When consciousness slowly returned to me, the first voice in my mind was—of course—Aeldir.
[Bro… finally awake?]
I exhaled tiredly.
Yes. I'm awake.
He clicked his tongue.
[Then answer me first—whose ridiculous name did you try to speak that nearly broke half your soul?]
I know the nickname… but I can't pronounce it. Unless you want me to collapse again, I replied dryly.
He went quiet. A rare, wise choice from him.
Only then did I notice her.
The princess lay on the bed beside mine—legs crossed, posture neat, immersed in a thick book titled Soul Oaths & Arcane Contracts.
Even breathing gently, she carried that same ethereal aura—white hair cascading like snowy silk, and those unmistakable cosmic eyes: blue swirling with purple, starlit like a fragment of the night sky.
She finished a paragraph, exhaled, and turned her gaze—only then realizing I was awake and staring.
She lowered her book.
"At the speed you collapse, it doesn't seem like you're suitable to be my attendant, you know."
I bowed my head lightly.
"I apologise, Your Highness."
She chuckled softly.
"Relax. I'm not like the others in this castle."
Her tone softened, but her gaze sharpened.
"I was waiting for you to wake up. I want to ask you something."
"Go ahead."
"Whose contract did you form before mine? Breaking even a small path of an oath has side effects… and your condition proves it."
I paused.
"Serin Lunaris."
Her eyes widened—not fear, but calculation.
"As I thought… that explains why your collapse was severe. You're not fully healed yet."
She closed her book, stood, and said:
"Rest. I'm going to sleep too. You should follow my example."
Then she walked away, her cosmic eyes lingering for a moment—almost… thoughtful.
A nurse approached soon after, placing her hand on my forehead, mana gently flowing.
"His Majesty has summoned you. Please prepare."
Her touch was warm, professional. And with her support, I walked toward the throne hall.
In the grand hall, the King awaited—his expression heavy with responsibility. Instead of mages, a single pedestal stood beside him, holding a simple silver ring with faint golden runes.
"This is an Age-Bending Artifact," he said.
"Academy entry requires seventeen years of age. You are far from that."
I nodded.
He continued, "The ring will accelerate your physical maturity by ten years. One day equals one year."
I slipped the ring on.
A soft mana circle bloomed beneath my feet—intricate, elegant, harmless—
—until it wasn't.
The circle spasmed.
Runes glitched.
And then—
It shattered like broken glass.
Fragments of light rose and evaporated into nothing.
Aeldir muttered inside me:
[…Bro, even artifacts are exploding because of your messed-up bloodline.]
The King massaged his temples—clearly frustrated but trying to stay composed.
"You may go. We will… attempt another method later."
I bowed and left.
I knocked gently.
"I'm resting. You should too," her voice came through the door—firm but not unkind.
I obeyed.
Returning to my room, I collapsed on the bed, eyes half-closed—
And then the screen appeared.
Bright.
Cold.
Silent.
---
[ System has detected the user's requirement. ]
[ A Host wishes to fulfil it. ]
[ Do you wish to view the Contract? ]
Yes / No
Aeldir asked:
[Bro, who are you talking to?]
…You can't see the screen?
[Screen? What screen? I don't see shit.]
So—only I could see it.
I exhaled.
"Show Contract."
The screen shifted.
[ Host : The Curse Weaver of Fallen Timelines ]
Mission : Clear a Dungeon alone
Objective : Slay all beasts and defeat the Dungeon Boss
Reward : Age Manipulation Spell
Difficulty : -----
Time Limit : -----
Failure : You will repeat the mission until success
I froze.
Repeat until success?
That wasn't mercy.
That was a cage.
Aeldir faded a little, voice distant.
[Bro… you suddenly got quiet. What's happening?]
Nothing. Just… figuring something out.
My throat tightened.
If I failed this, I might never escape it.
But if I ignored it, I'd lose my place beside the princess in the academy.
So I pressed START.
The screen answered immediately:
[ Mission Initiated ]
[ Temporary Skills Granted : ]
• Light Magic (Basic)
• Regeneration (Low-tier)
• Adaptive Combat Instincts
• Temporary Equipment : Sword of the Adventurer (Grade-B)
[ Additional Condition : User will appear in a female form to meet narrative requirements ]
[ Teleporting player in 3…2…1… ]
Aeldir shouted in confusion:
[BRO WHAT'S—]
And then he vanished.
Silence swallowed me.
The world flickered—
—and I stood alone.
A dense forest surrounded the entrance. Mist curled around ancient roots. Wind whispered through the leaves like warnings carried by ghosts.
I looked down.
The system wasn't lying.
My body—shape, proportions, hands—everything reflected the silhouette of a girl, not myself. Not even Aeldir's presence remained.
Just me.
Alone.
Holding the B-grade Adventurer's Sword—lightweight, perfectly balanced, infused with faint mana spark.
Ahead stood a wide stone gate carved into a cliff.
Above it, a wooden board hung crookedly:
"Do NOT Enter the Dungeon."