The sun set, and darkness engulfed the sky once more. Rain left behind a soft, muddy fragrance in the air, a reminder of the heavy storm that had taken place in the middle of the day.
Words came from the Imperial Palace: Duke Velmoris will come to Nyxveil Mansion as the man delivering the Imperial Gift.
How ridiculous. Given how Duke Velmoris had glared at me in the throne room when I arrived with the so-called dead body of the so-called first prince, had he possessed the nerve, he would have killed me right then and there.
I sighed, studying my reflection in the mirror. Master, perched on the dressing table before me, wiggled his soft, fluffy black tail as he stared at me with narrowed eyes.
"The Gens of this family are indeed dangerous," he mused, his gaze lingering on my unusually polished appearance.
I adjusted the pearl necklace around my neck, the bright purple gown I wore leaving one shoulder bare. My silver hair, perfectly combed, cascaded down to my waist. For once, I had applied my own makeup instead of relying on Mika and Rina.
"I can't exactly receive the Imperial Envoy dressed in rags, can I?"
Master nodded sagely. "That's right. The greatest thief is the one who shows the utmost respect and loyalty."
"Thief?" I gasped, feigning offense. "Are you calling me a thief?"
He smirked, clearly amused. "Didn't you just devise the perfect plan to steal the dragon heart right under that bastard Duke's nose and pin the blame on him for mishandling it?"
I blinked, then shrugged. "It's them who stole the dragon heart in the first place. I'm merely returning it to its rightful owner."
Master's smirk faded, his expression turning serious. "That's a fair point. But you're reckless, you know? I can't speak for the Duke, but your father isn't an easy man to deceive." His silence seemed to press into me, heavy with unspoken warning.
"Foxy, your father is far sharper and slyer than he appears. There's a strong chance he already knows everything you're doing."
I scoffed lightly, though Master's stern gaze told me he wasn't joking—and neither was I.
If Father were truly as cunning as Master believes, Nyxveil would never have fallen to ruin in my past life under the Emperor's schemes.
In truth, I'd almost welcome it if he did know. Perhaps the pressure of my actions would force him to act—revealing his stance, whether as an ally or an obstacle.
"Master," I said, meeting his eyes in the mirror, "whether my father knows or not doesn't matter, so long as he doesn't stand in my way. My goal is to destroy the Imperial family, annihilate the demon cult, and seal the demon world so they can't slaughter our people anymore."
Master licked his paw, shaking his head with a tired sigh.
"You're only sixteen. Why are you carrying the weight of the world's survival on your shoulders?" His voice held a note of pity.
A sad smile touched my lips as I studied my reflection—the face of a sixteen-year-old girl who had lived forty-eight years in a future so dark it had scarred her body, mind, and soul.
"Master!"
Hao Ran leaped through the window, landing gracefully on his cat paws.
"I planted the magic bomb under Duke Velmoris's carriage!" he announced proudly, tail flicking with satisfaction.
I knelt to pat his head, warmth flooding my chest. "Good job, Salmon."
He nuzzled into my palm, blissfully unaware of how much his presence meant to me.
After regressing, I'd felt an aching loneliness—no one in this world knew of my past life, my struggles, my triumphs, or my suffering. But now, with Hao Ran at my side, I could remind myself that at least one soul remembered the woman who had clawed her way from the depths to stand at the pinnacle of Ignis's court.
"How ironic," Master drawled, tail flicking. "You named a cat after a fish."
Hao Ran, unfazed, shot back, "Why? Are you jealous, Grand Mage?"
Master scoffed. "Jealous of a scrawny white cat whose only redeeming feature is his lack of self-awareness?"
Hao Ran smirked. "It's alright, Grand Mage. I understand your envy—my lustrous fur and striking blue eyes are rather intimidating."
Master hopped down from the dressing table and smacked Hao Ran's head, earning a yowl.
"Ow! How does a punch from a cat hurt this much?!"
Master rubbed his nose smugly. "Of course it does. I am the greatest mage of this age, after all."
I shook my head, smiling at their antics. To an outsider, our banter would seem harmless—no one would guess the destruction we were about to unleash.
"Enough, you two." I pulled them apart. Hao Ran pouted, while Master huffed but obeyed.
"Master, you know what to do, right?"
His eyes gleamed with mischief. "I can't wait to humiliate that fraud who dares call himself my equal. Just watch, Foxy—I'll stage the most dramatic theft of an Imperial Treasure this world has ever seen."
I grinned.
Dylan Velmoris, you may have deceived thousands, but the man I've set against you is the very one whose son you exploited.
The downfall of Duke Velmoris and Emperor Perseus would be poetic, extravagant—a reckoning for the 300,000 innocents slaughtered without mercy.
Under the heavens, countless beings existed—humans, demons, dragons, spirits, fae—each with their own dreams, morals, and desires. After the Cataclysm of Dusk and Dawn, dragons and fae retreated to their own realms. Spirits dwelled in their world, connecting only with their contractors.
Only humans and demons remained entwined—demons using humans for freedom, humans using demons for power.
Yet, beneath it all, fate governed everything. A system no power could defy.
And here I stood, defying the fate I had once suffered, challenging forces far greater than myself.
The stakes were high. I stood alone. I didn't know what awaited me at the end of this path, but I would fight—because wasn't this why the gods had granted me a second chance? My story should have ended with my death.
Yet here I was.
Sixteen again.
"Young lady, you're summoned."
Rina bowed at the door. I glanced at Master, who gave me a reassuring nod. Hao Ran rubbed against my legs, as if urging me forward with pride.
"Let's go," I said, straightening. "It's time to greet the Imperial envoy."
Rina opened the door wide.
Once again, I stood at the beginning.
I would succeed. I would protect those who had never abandoned me, even at my worst. I would shield this land that had given me purpose.
My enemies might be the strongest under the heavens—but so what?
My sword would carve through their flesh, and from their ruin, I would build a better world.
No fucking way I will live that trashy life again in the name of redemption.
**********************************************************
The imperial carriage, marked with the golden eagle crest of the royal family, moved steadily along the forest road toward Nyxveil Mansion. Thirty armored knights marched alongside it, their steel boots crushing fallen leaves underfoot.
Inside, Duke Dylan Velmoris held the black lacquered box tightly in his lap, his fingers tracing the rubies embedded in its surface. Protective spells shimmered faintly around it—his own handiwork.
The dragon heart.
His crimson eyes burned with hunger.
Immortality. Power beyond human limits. The key to summoning a Great Demon into this world.
The heart within pulsed faintly, as if sensing his greed. It had been steeped in demonic energy for decades, fed by the blood of the Yusk massacre. And now, it was his to deliver—but every fiber of his being screamed to keep it.
Why give this to Zaphery? If I consumed it now...
His breath hitched. His skin flushed with feverish heat. Dark energy slithered through his veins, whispering of dominion, of a throne drenched in the Emperor's blood—
The carriage exploded.
Dylan barely had time to throw up a shield before he was hurled into the dirt. Splinters of wood rained around him. The knights shouted, swords drawn, but thick white smoke billowed from the wreckage, swallowing them whole.
Magic-nullifying fog.
Dylan's mana flickered—then died. He gasped, clawing at his throat. The box—where was the box?
His hands closed on empty air.
"The dragon heart—!"
Panic spiked through him. He dropped to his knees, scrabbling in the dirt like a madman. The smoke choked his senses, but he knew—it had been in his grip seconds ago. It couldn't be gone.
Unless it was stolen.
Through the haze, steel glinted. Nyxveil knights advanced, their captain bellowing orders. And then—
Her.
Selentia Nyxveil emerged from the mist like a wraith, Slayer's hilt resting in her palm. Moonlight bled silver through her hair, her green eyes glacial.
"Duke Velmoris." Her voice cut through the chaos. "Where is the Emperor's gift?"
Dylan's lips peeled back in a snarl. "You scheming little—!"
He lunged, magic erupting from his fingertips. Five cerulean spheres shot toward her, each crackling with enough power to vaporize stone.
The knights recoiled.
Selentia didn't move.
A flick of her wrist—Slayer's aura flared crimson. The magic balls split midair, dissipating into harmless sparks.
Silence.
Dylan's rage curdled into dread. No novice could do that.
"You dare attack an Imperial envoy?" he spat, desperate.
"I dare accuse a thief," she said coldly. The Imperial knights shifted, their loyalty wavering as they took in Dylan's wild eyes and the missing relic.
The captain dropped to one knee. "Young lady, His Majesty would never sanction this treachery!"
Selentia's smile was razor-thin. "Then I await his justice."
As the knights seized Dylan, she turned—and met her father's gaze.
Sylvester Nyxveil watched her, silent as always.
Then, just for her, his lips curved.
Well done.