Scarlett sat quietly for a long moment, her thoughts drifting inward.
The previous Scarlett's mana core had been fire-attributed. That memory was clear and unambiguous—the heat, the sharp aggression of the mana, the way it surged violently during her failed breakthrough.
"If nothing else," Scarlett murmured, "I'll probably be fire too."
It made sense. Same body. Same foundation. Even if the soul had changed, the vessel remained the same—at least for now.
She exhaled slowly and pushed herself off the rock she had been sitting on, brushing imaginary dust from her clothes. The inner space stretched endlessly before her, open land rolling into the distance under a calm sky that never seemed to shift.
"Well," she said to no one in particular, "let's explore."
She began walking.
The grass beneath her feet was soft and warm, almost unreal in how perfect it felt. The air carried no dust, no scent of decay, only a clean freshness that reminded her faintly of early mornings in the abbey gardens from her former life.
As she walked, a question pressed itself forward.
"How exactly do I leave?"
She slowed to a stop, frowning slightly. She hadn't consciously decided to enter this place. One moment she had been dying in a cave, and the next she was here.
Think.
She replayed the memory in her mind—pain, panic, wiping sweat from her forehead—
Her hand rose instinctively.
The moment her fingers brushed her forehead, the ring on her finger pulsed with warmth.
The world folded.
And she vanished.
—
Cold stone greeted her back.
Scarlett gasped softly, eyes snapping open as she found herself lying once more inside the cave. The scent of blood and damp earth filled her senses, harsh and grounding.
"…Huh."
She pushed herself upright, resting her chin on her hand in thought.
"So that's how it works."
Curious, she lifted her hand again and mimicked the same wiping motion across her forehead.
The ring glowed.
The cave vanished.
She reappeared in the space.
She stared at the endless land for several seconds before letting out a long, tired sigh.
"…Isn't this stressful?"
She rubbed her temple.
"So I have to raise my hand and touch my forehead every time I want to enter this place?" she muttered. "What is this, some kind of ritual?"
Her gaze dropped to the ring.
"Is this thing damaged?"
The ring was blood-red, simple in shape yet ancient in presence. As she stared at it more closely, something stirred in her memory.
Her previous life.
She had worn this ring before.
As a venerated mother.
She froze.
"This…" she whispered.
She vaguely recalled wearing it daily, though she could no longer remember where it had come from—or when it had first appeared. What unsettled her even more was the faint recollection that the original Scarlett had also worn the same ring.
But how?
When?
Her brows furrowed.
"This world," she murmured quietly, "is already strange enough."
Deciding to put the mystery aside for now, she continued exploring.
The space was vast—far larger than she initially thought. Rolling plains stretched endlessly, broken only by the occasional rise in terrain. In the distance stood a ranch-like structure—simple wooden buildings, fencing, and what appeared to be farmland.
She walked toward it.
Minutes passed.
Then more.
Her legs began to ache—not painfully, but enough to remind her that this body was still young and recently injured.
"…How long would it take to farm all this land?" she muttered, eyeing the expanse.
The thought alone exhausted her.
"Sigh."
Finally, she reached the ranch.
Or rather—almost reached it.
The moment she stepped closer, an invisible wall stopped her cold.
She blinked.
Then stepped forward again.
Thud.
Her forehead hit something solid.
"Ow—!"
She staggered back, rubbing her brow as disbelief settled in.
"…What?"
She reached out cautiously, palm extended.
Her hand met resistance—smooth, unyielding, completely invisible.
A barrier.
She stared at it in silence.
"What is the meaning of this?" she muttered.
Before she could test it further—
BOOM.
The ground trembled.
The air shook violently, as though struck by thunder.
Then—
Laughter.
Loud.
Unrestrained.
Utterly shameless.
"YO YO YO—!"
Scarlett froze.
"I FINALLY HAVE A SUCCESSOR!" the voice boomed, echoing from everywhere and nowhere at once. "HAHAHAHA! It's time again for the world to TREMBLE!"
Scarlett's mouth slowly fell open.
"…What?"
Her eyes darted around, searching for the source of the voice—but there was nothing. No figure. No shadow. Just sound.
Her first thought was not awe.
It was dread.
"…Is this ring really damaged?" she whispered. "Please don't tell me I'm trapped here forever with a lunatic."
The voice continued, utterly unconcerned.
"Fear not, disciple! For I have already accepted you—EVEN THOUGH you are flawed."
Scarlett's eyebrow twitched.
"…Flawed?"
The voice pressed on enthusiastically.
"I, your glorious master, am the QUEEN VENERATED OF THE FIRST CONTINENT! HAHAHA!"
Scarlett stared blankly.
First continent?
Queen venerated?
She didn't even know where the voice was coming from—it seemed to vibrate through the land itself.
"Yo yo yo!" the voice laughed again. "Are you scared speechless? Honored, right? Hahaha! It's fine, it's fine! It's your lucky day!"
Scarlett's lips twitched.
"I'll reluctantly accept you as my successor," the voice declared magnanimously, "even though you look ugly, scrawny, and weak. Sigh… truly my cheap luck."
That was it.
Something snapped.
Scarlett straightened slowly, her expression darkening.
"Ugly?" she repeated softly.
Her eyes narrowed.
"Scrawny?"
"Weak?"
She inhaled deeply.
Then erupted.
"EXCUSE ME?"
Her voice rang out sharp and clear across the space.
"Pot calling the kettle black, don't you think?"
The laughter stopped abruptly.
Scarlett pointed at the empty air.
"If I'm ugly, then what are you?" she continued coldly. "A monster who hides and only speaks behind a curtain because your appearance would scare ghosts?"
Silence.
She wasn't finished.
"'Queen Venerated of the First Continent'?" she scoffed. "Don't make me laugh."
Her gaze sharpened, every trace of fear gone.
"You want to scam someone and you think it'll be easy because I look like a child?" she said flatly. "You'd better not have any rotten ideas."
She crossed her arms.
"I'm not easy to offend."
The space was quiet for a long moment.
Then—
"…Oh?"
The voice returned, lower now.
Interested.
"Hahaha…" it chuckled. "Interesting."
Scarlett didn't relax.
If there was one thing she had learned over ninety-five years of life—
It was that confidence intimidated predators far more than fear ever could.
And whoever—or whatever—this "Queen Venerated" was…
They had just met the wrong successor.