Her eyes. That was the detail I'd missed in my last life.
Beneath the veneer of the perfect, pure-hearted princess, Lyra's eyes were ancient. They held the cold, calculating depth of a forty-year-old woman who had lived and died in the shadow of gods and monsters. And right now, that ancient gaze was fixed on the ledger hidden beneath my robes.
She couldn't know what it was, not specifically. But her 'Destiny's Whisper' skill, likely a gift from her regression, had warned her. I had just walked out with a piece of her future.
My own expression was a flawless mask of brotherly concern. "Lyra! You should be resting. What are you doing all the way down here?" I rushed to her side, feigning worry. "Is your Qi stable? Do you feel any discomfort?"
I reached out to take her arm, a gesture of support. It was also a test.
She allowed the touch, but I felt her muscles tense for a fraction of a second. Her smile remained, a perfect, beautiful lie.
"I am perfectly well, brother. Thanks to you," she said, her voice dripping with manufactured sincerity. "In fact, I feel better than ever. The pill you brought… it was a miracle."
"I would do anything for you, little sister," I said, the words tasting like ash in my mouth. We were two predators circling each other, wrapped in the skins of loving siblings.
"I know," she replied, her gaze unwavering. "Which is why I wanted to invite you. To celebrate my recovery, Father has permitted me to host a small, private banquet in my garden pavilion tonight. Just a few of our closest friends and allies. Seraphina will be there. I would be honored if you would attend."
A private banquet. An invitation from a hostile regressor. It was a trap. Obviously. It was a hastily arranged plan to probe my secrets, to figure out what I had taken and how much I knew.
And it was the most perfect opportunity I could have asked for.
"A banquet?" I feigned a weary sigh. "Lyra, I am honored, but after the day's events… I am truly exhausted."
It was the perfect response for the 'old Kaelen'. The lazy, hedonistic prince who would rather sleep than attend another stuffy social gathering.
Her eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly. "Oh, but you must come," she insisted, her voice taking on a sweet, pleading tone that had always worked on the old me. "It wouldn't be a celebration without the hero who made it possible. Please, brother. For me?"
She was pressuring me, using our public image against me. Refusing now would seem churlish and suspicious.
I let out a long-suffering sigh. "Alright, alright. For you, little sister. I will be there."
Her smile became genuine for the first time, a flash of triumphant coldness. "Wonderful. I will see you tonight."
She turned and glided away, leaving me in the cold silence of the vault's antechamber. The Imperial Chamberlain, who had watched the entire exchange with the silent impassivity of a statue, bowed his head. "This way, Your Highness."
As I walked back to my own chambers, my mind was a whirlwind.
She was going to test me. The banquet would be filled with her allies from the previous timeline, people whose abilities and loyalties she was already aware of. She would try to isolate me, pressure me, perhaps even use some truth-seeking artifact or poison.
She was walking into the arena, confident that she knew the strength of every beast. She had no idea she was walking into a cage with a monster she had never met before.
"System," I commanded as I entered my room and secured the door. "According to Malakor's ledger, where is the Soul-Devouring Imp's slumbering place?"
...ANALYZING THE LEDGER'S TEXT AND PALACE BLUEPRINTS.
...LOCATION FOUND. THE IMP IS HIBERNATING IN A DORMANT STATE WITHIN THE 'FORGOTTEN CISTERN' BENEATH THE OLD AVIARY. IT IS PROTECTED BY A BLOOD-SEAL THAT RESPONDS ONLY TO THE RAVENCREST BLOODLINE.
The old aviary. A derelict, half-ruined part of the palace that no one had used in centuries. A perfect hiding spot.
"How long to awaken and bind it?"
...THE RITUAL OF AWAKENING REQUIRES A SIGNIFICANT BLOOD OFFERING. ONCE AWAKENED, THE BINDING PROCESS WILL DEPEND ON YOUR STRENGTH OF WILL. ESTIMATED TIME: 30 MINUTES.
The banquet was in three hours. More than enough time.
My plan was set. I would arrive at her banquet not as the foolish brother she thought she knew, but as the new master of her secret weapon.
Two hours later, under the cloak of twilight, I was moving through the ruined gardens of the old aviary. [Shadow Stealth] made me a whisper in the gloom. I found the entrance to the cistern easily, a moss-covered stone hatch hidden beneath a tangle of thorny vines.
It was sealed, but not with a lock. A small indentation in the center of the hatch glowed with a faint, crimson light. The blood-seal.
I drew the Shadowfang Dagger and sliced open my palm without hesitation. The pain was a dull, familiar sting. I pressed my bleeding hand against the seal.
My royal blood, the blood of Malakor's line, sizzled as it made contact. The runes flared to life, and with a deep groan of ancient stone, the hatch slid open, revealing a dark, spiraling staircase leading down into the earth.
The air that wafted up was stale, heavy with the scent of stagnant water and something else… something metallic and faintly ozone-like. The scent of a slumbering demon.
I descended into the darkness, the Shadowfang Dagger held ready.
The cistern was a circular, stone-lined chamber filled with a foot of murky water. In the exact center of the room, perched on a small, dry stone island, was a grotesque, obsidian statue of a winged gargoyle, no bigger than a large dog. Its eyes were closed, and it was covered in a thick layer of dust and cobwebs. It looked like nothing more than a forgotten, ugly piece of statuary.
But my [Eye of Scrutiny] saw the truth.
[Creature: Soul-Devouring Imp (Dormant)]
[Status: Blood-Bound Hibernation. Awaiting Awakening.]
[Loyalty: Unclaimed. Bound to the Ravencrest Bloodline.]
This was it. My family's hidden devil.
I stepped onto the stone island, the ledger in my other hand, opened to the page detailing the awakening rite. It was simple. Brutal. It required the offerer to pour their own life's blood onto the statue until the creature's spiritual core was reactivated.
I held my already bleeding palm over the creature's head and squeezed, letting my blood drip down onto the cold, obsidian stone.
One drop. Two drops. A steady trickle.
The stone drank my blood, the crimson liquid vanishing into its surface as if it were a sponge.
A faint, deep-red glow began to emanate from within the statue's chest. I could feel a nascent, ancient consciousness stirring. It was hungry.
Just as the process was beginning, a new, urgent quest notification exploded in my vision, overriding everything else. It wasn't from the main system. The text was jagged, chaotic, and colored a burning, abyssal purple I had never seen before.
[!!! ABYSSAL INTERFERENCE DETECTED !!!]
[A Contracted Servant of the Shadow Lord has been detected nearby!]
[WARNING: THE NEXUS CODEX AND THE SHADOW LORD'S DEMONIC CONTRACT ARE INCOMPATIBLE EXISTENCES!]
[PROTOCOLS OF CORRECTION ARE IN DIRECT CONFLICT WITH PROTOCOLS OF DAMNATION!]
[A 'SYSTEM ERROR' QUEST HAS BEEN GENERATED:]
[Objective: Devour the Soul-Devouring Imp. Absorb its connection to the Netherworld and claim its authority as your own. Sever the Ravencrest bloodline's contract with the Shadow Lord forever.]
[Reward: ???]
[Failure Penalty: The Nexus Codex will be corrupted by Demonic energy, resulting in SYSTEM ANNIHILATION.]