Two hours.
That was how long Moon had spoken.
Two full hours of names, laws, divine systems, noble bloodlines, and palace rules that felt more like invisible chains than governance.
About the empire.
About the nobles.
About the gods.
About how little the Eleventh Princess mattered in this palace.
About how easily she could vanish.
Her voice had been gentle while she explained it. Almost kind.
That was the strangest part.
She spoke about my possible death the same way someone might speak about rain falling tomorrow.
No fear. No anger. Just certainty.
I sat on the edge of my bed, hands folded in my lap, nodding whenever she paused. My body played the role of a listening princess, but my mind was somewhere far away, desperately trying to keep up with the reality I had woken up in.
An empire ruled by nobles.
A palace that functioned like a battlefield.
A god that watched everything.
A royal family that would gladly discard one of its own.
None of it felt real yet.
It was all too big. Too absurd. Too cruel to be real.
But one word kept echoing in my mind.
Magic.
In this world, magic wasn't a fantasy.
It was currency.
It was authority.
It was survival.
Magic was power.
And power was the only thing that mattered here.
So this world really has it.
The realization sent a strange, electric feeling through me.
A fantasy world with magic… and I'm inside it.
The kind of world I used to escape into when my old life became unbearable. The kind of place I had dreamed about in novels and games and late-night fantasies.
For a moment—just a moment—something dangerously close to hope stirred inside me.
Yeah. God… maybe you didn't screw me over completely.
Maybe dying wasn't just some cruel joke.
Maybe being reborn here meant something.
Maybe this world had something I could steal back from fate.
"Did you actually give me a chance?" I whispered under my breath, not even sure who I was speaking to.
The air, the gods, or the version of myself that had died.
Of course…
Reality never lets you hold onto hope for long.
Even as a princess, my status here was lower than most maids.
Royal blood meant nothing without power.
I was royalty in name only — a decorative title that didn't protect me from anything. In truth, I was beneath servants, beneath guards, beneath anyone who mattered.
Some maids in this palace could speak louder than I ever could.
Even whispers outranked me.
But that didn't matter.
Not if I had magic.
Not if I had power.
If I had even a fraction of real power, I could change everything.
I could protect myself.
I could stop being prey.
I could stop being disposable.
"Princess, are you ready?" Moon's voice came from outside.
I looked at the door.
Moon… was the last fragile shield I had in this palace.
And even she wasn't permanent.
"Yes," I answered automatically.
Then I corrected myself.
"I am ready."
The door opened.
Moon stepped aside and bowed, and I walked past her into the long, echoing palace halls.
Each step felt heavier than the last.
My heartbeat sounded too loud in my ears.
So this is where they judge me…
Where a few glowing rocks decide whether I live as a person… or as something barely above trash.
The Temple of God loomed ahead.
From the outside, it looked like a cathedral carved by divinity itself. Tall spires pierced the sky, and light reflected off white stone as if the building itself was holy.
But when I stepped inside—
There were no seats.
No warmth.
No welcoming candles.
No sacred atmosphere.
Just stone.
Cold. Empty. Silent.
This doesn't feel like a temple…
It felt like a courtroom.
A place where verdicts were passed, not prayers.
A place where faith was stripped down to intimidation.
And at the center of it all stood one thing.
A massive statue of Auriviel, the kingdom's god.
White stone. Perfect features. Eyes carved so precisely they almost felt alive.
So that's Auriviel…
The god who ruled this world.
The god who had already decided my worth.
"You're just stone," I muttered under my breath.
But even as I said it, the statue's gaze made my skin crawl.
It felt like it was looking straight through me.
Three crystal orbs floated in front of the statue, slowly rotating, humming softly.
Power radiated from them.
Not warmth.
Not holiness.
Power.
Those things decide my fate?
It felt less like divine judgment…
And more like a trap dressed up as ritual.
The priest was waiting.
His expression was calm. Detached. Like a man preparing paperwork instead of deciding a person's future.
"Just get this over with," I muttered.
"Princess, be at ease. This ordeal will soon be finished," he said politely.
No—did I say that out loud?
My heart skipped.
The priest bowed slightly. "Forgive my rudeness. Greetings, Princess Elowen Rynvaris. May Auriviel's sacred light watch over you."
I returned the bow mechanically.
"May Auriviel bless you as well."
The words tasted empty.
"Do you understand the ritual?" he asked.
It wasn't really a question.
Understanding didn't matter.
"Yes."
One word.
One lie.
"The first crystal measures elemental talent," he said. "Fire, water, earth, and wind — the foundations of magic."
"The second measures Miki, the life-force that fuels warriors and mages alike."
"The third checks for special-born abilities. Powers gifted by fate… or cursed by it."
The priest raised his hand.
The movement felt final.
Like a judge lifting a gavel.
"Begin."
I placed my hand on the first crystal.
It was cold.
Not just physically.
It felt like something inside it was touching me back.
Four elements, right? Fire, water, earth, wind…
Come on. Just give me something.
The silence stretched.
My heart started pounding.
Why isn't it reacting…?
Then—
The orb darkened.
Not dim.
Not flickering.
Black.
Dead black.
A chill rippled through the temple.
Even the air felt like it flinched.
"What?" I whispered. "That bad?"
"…Princess," the priest said slowly, "this means you possess no elemental talent."
That's impossible.
"You're lying to me, aren't you?"
"Princess, I am not," he replied calmly. "If you possessed elemental magic, the crystal would glow red, blue, green, or yellow. If you carried two or more elements, it would turn white."
He stared at the black orb.
"It reflects the color of the soul. I have never seen a black soul before. But it means one thing — you possess no elemental talent."
"Then why did you look startled?" I demanded.
"Because the High Priest once proclaimed that you bore the wind element."
So that belonged to the original Rynvaris.
Not me.
That power died with her.
The priest gestured toward the third crystal.
"Special-born abilities," he said. "Some are chosen by fate. Some are cursed by it."
I pressed my hand against it.
Here goes…
Black.
Again.
Nothing.
"You possess neither elemental talent nor special-born blessing," he said.
"So I have nothing?" I asked quietly.
A bitter laugh escaped me.
"Why would I be special?"
I turned to the second orb.
My last hope.
"Then at least tell me I have absurd Miki or something."
The crystal glowed.
Barely.
A thin, weak light.
"You have Miki," the priest said. "With training, you may reach the First Level. Perhaps the Second. If you are fortunate, the Third. Beyond that… never."
No elements.
No gifts.
Barely any Miki.
Useless.
"The ritual is complete," he said. "You may leave."
I turned away.
So that's how it ends…
I walked toward the massive temple doors.
Each step felt lighter than it should have.
Not because I was relieved—
But because something inside me had gone numb.
No element.
No blessing.
Barely any Miki.
In a world where power decided your worth, I had just been stamped as nothing.
Behind me, the doors of the Temple of God slowly closed.
The sound echoed through the vast stone chamber like a coffin being sealed.
I didn't turn back.
I didn't want to see the god who had judged me worthless.
I didn't want to see the priest who had delivered the verdict.
I didn't want to see the crystals that had measured my soul and found it lacking.
For a moment, there was only silence.
Then—
The three orbs trembled.
A low hum vibrated through the air.
The black color inside them began to spread, like ink bleeding through water.
It wasn't just darkness.
It was something deeper.
Heavier.
Like a shadow swallowing light itself.
The temple grew cold.
Even the massive statue of Auriviel seemed to sink deeper into shadow, its carved features twisting under the dimming glow.
Something had changed.
Something had gone wrong.
But I was already outside.
Moon was waiting for me in the hallway, her hands folded in front of her like always. The moment she saw my face, she knew.
"What happened, Princess?"
I didn't look at her.
I couldn't.
"It would have been easier if something had," I said quietly.
If even one crystal had lit up.
If even one path had opened.
Moon's face went pale.
"…I understand."
She didn't ask more.
She didn't need to.
Inside my chest, something twisted.
Not breaking.
Sharpening.
No talent.
No power.
No destiny.
The words repeated in my head like a curse.
So this is the world you threw me into, God.
A world where even being a princess means nothing.
A world where strength decides whether you live as a human or a tool.
A slow smile crept onto my lips.
They had looked at me and seen nothing.
They had measured my soul and declared it worthless.
That was fine.
In this world, worthless things were ignored.
And ignored things were free to grow.
Free to survive.
Free to sharpen themselves in the dark.
I clenched my hands.
If I couldn't be chosen…
Then I would take what I needed.
If I couldn't be blessed…
Then I would carve my own power from this cruel world.
Let the nobles keep their thrones.
I would rise without their permission.
And when they finally noticed me…
It would already be too late.
In this world, monsters weren't born from talent.
They were born from being abandoned.
And I had just been abandoned by everything that mattered.
Good.
That meant I had nothing left to lose.