Ray's eyes snapped open.
The stench hit him first—thick, suffocating, rotten. His body was lying half-submerged in a swamp, cold mud clinging to his skin. The fog was dense, curling like living shadows through twisted trees that loomed over him. Every breath dragged in the taste of iron and decay.
A wet, tearing sound came from below.
Ray froze. Slowly, his gaze shifted—only to see a grotesque creature latched onto his leg, gnawing. Its body was half-rotten, its gray flesh leaking pus from dozens of holes that oozed like bursting sores. Its jaw was unhinged, tearing into his flesh with a sick, slurping noise.
"Wha—what the actual fuck?!" Ray gagged, horror twisting his gut.
But before he could react—before panic could fully consume him—the creature suddenly stiffened. Its body convulsed, then collapsed lifeless into the muck.
Ray's chest heaved, his mind racing—when a voice whispered, smooth and inhuman, right in his ear.
[You have slain: Creature Unknown.]
"What the hell do you mean slain? That thing just keeled over!" Ray barked, anger and confusion mixing in his voice.
But the whisper came again—colder this time.
[You have been poisoned.]
His veins burned. The world spun violently, and darkness swallowed him whole.
---
When he opened his eyes again… everything was different.
Ray sat on a throne.
No swamp, no fog, no rotting monster. Instead, a vast hall stretched around him—dark stone walls, towering pillars etched with glowing runes, and shadows that pulsed like they were alive. The air was heavy, divine, suffused with an ancient presence.
And the throne beneath him… it felt right. Too right. That vague sense of familiarity he had felt before? This time it anchored itself deep into his soul. He wasn't just sitting on it. It was his.
"…You've got to be fucking kidding me," Ray muttered. His voice echoed through the temple. "What, did I reincarnate? Again? Just my damn luck…"
He leaned forward, pressing a hand to his face, and started cursing under his breath—then louder.
"Shit! Of all things, I get dumped into some fucked-up swamp with a corpse chewing on my leg, only to wake up here? A goddamn throne in a haunted temple? Really? FUCK!"
His curses spiraled into rambling insults at the world, at gods, at whatever cosmic asshole had decided his fate. After a long while, his voice cracked into laughter—half madness, half exhaustion.
Slowly, he calmed, breathing hard. His mind cleared, turning sharp.
He remembered.
The throne.
The whispers.
The inheritance.
"…So this is it, huh? A new world."
A chill swept through the temple.
From the shadows lining the hall, movements stirred. Figures began to emerge, six in total, gliding silently as if birthed from the darkness itself.
Three appeared on his left, three on his right. The first two were men—handsome wasn't enough to describe them. They were impossibly attractive, perfect in a way that didn't belong to mortals. The rest… four women, each more stunning than the last, their beauty so intoxicating it made Ray's breath hitch despite himself.
They knelt in perfect unison. Their voices rose together, reverent and resounding.
"Glory to the True God."
Ray's eyes widened. His heart hammered, not from fear—but from awe.
The whisper returned, brushing against his ear like silk.
[They are yours to command, Inheritor of the True God.]
From beneath him, his shadow rippled. It stretched unnaturally, and from its depths, a woman stepped forth. She was beyond beautiful—her presence alone suffocated the hall, her form sculpted like temptation itself. She rose gracefully, every movement dripping with allure, until she stood before him.
Her voice was soft, yet it carried the weight of eternity.
"We are yours, my lord."
Ray leaned back on the throne, staring at them. His lips twitched.
"…Fuck me. This is some real Shadow Slave shit." He let out a bitter laugh, dragging a hand down his face. "And of course—I never finished reading the damn book. Figures."
He exhaled, shoulders sinking.
"But hell… I'll figure it out as I go. I always do."
The throne pulsed faintly beneath him. The temple walls seemed to listen. And the shadows, his shadows, waited in perfect silence for their master's command.
---