Chapter 6
1 Second Invincibility in the Game
âIâm not Hersel.â
Is this really possible? In most games or web novels, the moment someone talks about regression or possession, a fourth wall appears to filter the conversation and prevent such statements.
âI canât explain it in detail, but⦠I was originally someone else. Somehow, I ended up in this body.â
âSo⦠you mean someone else is inhabiting the young masterâs body right now?â
âExactly.â
âI see. But why are you saying this all of a sudden?â
âItâs simple. I need your cooperation.â
At this point, the scenario hasnât even started. Not knowing the world before the game is frustrating enough, but everyone in the mansion is insane and trying to kill me. Itâs like being dropped in the middle of a dark forest without a lantern. I desperately needed even a small light, like a firefly, to illuminate my surroundings.
âCooperation?â
So, in an attempt to improve our relationship, I grabbed at straws. As expected, Sellyâs gaze turned icy, her lips drooping, and her entire complexion seemed to wilt.
âHow much have you drunk?â
Of course. If I were in her shoes, I would also think it was the ramblings of a madman. Damn it, was the fact that I could even make such a statement proof that I had no one to trust, allowing me to speak freely?
âWell, never mind. You donât have to believe me. Youâll end up helping me anyway.â
ââ¦Do you think I will?â
âJust continue doing your job. Itâs only a matter of time.â
Selly bit her lower lip. Her eyes, filled with suspicion, bore into me as if trying to decipher my intentions.
âYouâre not punishing me or kicking me out? You just want me to continue serving you? Even though I might try to kill you again?â
âHave I died yet?â
Selly looked bewildered. She scrutinized my body, inspecting it like a buyer checking for scratches on a second-hand item.
âHow can you be completely unscathed? You fell off a cliffâ¦â
âThereâs a secret. A secret to not dying.â
Only for a second, though.
âWhat nonsense is that?â
âIâve said all I wanted to say. If you have no business, you can leave.â
âI was planning to anyway.â
âOh, wait. Before you go.â
âWhat now?â
After pushing me off a cliff, she thinks she can just leave? She should be punished for her crime. I gave her a good flick on the forehead.
âOw!â
Selly teared up, clutching her head. Seeing her like that, I felt a sense of relief. Ah, refreshing.
âAlright. You can go.â
Selly turned and stormed off, fuming. I chuckled at her retreating figure. The rest would be resolved with time; I just had to wait.
* * *
Two days passed. Selly couldnât shake the tension from the change in atmosphere.
âMy laundry is missing? Is that what youâre saying?â
âYes. What can I do, Selly?â
The maid responded with a stiff posture and a blank face, showing no hint of remorse. Her attitude was more infuriating than the mistake, but Selly couldnât say anything more. Åά
It didnât help that the other servants stopped to watch, their faces devoid of any emotion, just blankly staring.
âWhy is this happeningâ¦?â
Since yesterday, something felt off. The mansion was busy as usual, but no one gave her any tasks. The usual friendly greetings were gone, replaced by cold indifference. The faces that once smiled warmly now looked as lifeless as a burned-out field.
âSelly?â
Hearing her name, Selly turned reflexively.
âHead maid?â
âAre you busy right now?â
âNo, Iâm free. Whatâs the matter?â
âThe mistress wants to see you.â
Sellyâs eyes widened. It was rare for the mistress to summon a servant who wasnât directly under her. She wanted to ask why, but the expressionless gazes around her kept her silent. She followed the head maid without a word.
Click-clack, click-clackâ
They arrived at a sunlit terrace. There, a woman sat, wearing a wide-brimmed hat, sipping tea gracefully.
âMistress, I brought Selly.â
âThank you, Elma.â
The high-pitched, yet elegant voice added to Sellyâs nervousness. As the head maid left, Selly composed herself and greeted respectfully.
âSelly Daelden. It is an honor to meet you, mistress.â
Achille von Teneste. This woman before her was the true power. With the duke away, she ruled the mansion and had hosted the festival to hunt Hersel. Selly couldnât help but feel tense.
âWhat does she want?â
Trying to read her expression was useless, hidden as it was by the hatâs wide brim. All Selly could see was the lipstick stain on the teacup.
The mistress took a sip and spoke.
âI heard youâve been working here a long time. I thought it polite to meet you in person.â
Polite? Sellyâs face asked the question, but the mistress simply waved a hand, signaling there was nothing more.
âGood work. You may go.â
Confused, Selly bowed and prepared to leave.
âIt was an honor to meet you, mistress. Iâll take my leave.â
Click-clack, click-clackâ
As Selly walked away with the head maid, she tried to speak, but the head maid spoke first.
âSelly, I thought you were smart. Why did you make such a choice?â
âExcuse meâ¦?â
With wide eyes, Selly was stunned into silence as the head maid slapped her. The slap was hard enough to make her head turn, and her cheek, already bandaged, bled again.
âDonât play dumb. Rumors say you sided with the hunted!â
The head maidâs shout snapped her back to reality.
Sided with Hersel? Why would the head maid think that?
âCould it be⦠because of that encounter with Erucel?â
It dawned on her. During her confrontation with Erucel, Hersel had defended her, claiming he had ordered it. Though she had genuinely pushed Hersel off the cliff, to others, it must have looked different.
Despite being ordered, falsely reporting Herselâs death could be seen as an insult to the mistress. Yet, she obeyed Herselâs suicidal command, appearing loyal in the eyes of others.
âWait a momentââ
Selly tried to explain, but the head maid was already leaving. She reached out, then let her hand fall. Even if she ran after her now, would she be believed?
She genuinely pushed Hersel, but he didnât die and even saved her. Who would believe such a story? Not even she could fully believe it yet. Realizing the futility of her situation, Sellyâs face turned pale. The changing attitudes of others were the least of her problems; her life was in danger. The mistress would never let someone perceived as siding with Hersel live.
â âGood work. You may go.â
The mistressâs parting words sent chills down her spine. Was it a farewell? Could she, just a maid, survive the mistressâs wrath? Her face lost more color. Then, Herselâs words came to mind.
â âNever mind. You donât have to believe me. Youâll end up helping me anyway.â
* * *
I was reading by candlelight with the curtains drawn. The book in my hands was filled with fanciful ancient tales.
âSplitting a mountain? Seriously.â
The exaggerated stories were laughable. No one would believe tales of creating plains with a single sword strike. Even with maxed-out character stats, it would be impossible. As I turned the page to read another tale, the door suddenly opened.
âYoung master.â
I put down the book as Selly entered without knocking. Her rudeness irked me, but her appearance stopped me from scolding her.
âWhy donât you wipe the blood from your mouth first?â
I handed her a handkerchief. Even such a small gesture was met with wary acceptance.
âWhy is the room so dark? And a candle in broad daylight?â
ââ¦Thereâs a reason.â
âThings are really strange lately.â
âWhy donât you get to the point?â
Selly hesitated, then cautiously spoke.
âDid you know this would happen?â
âOf course.â
It was inevitable. I had essentially declared her as my ally. Naturally, the others wouldnât take kindly to it. So her only remaining option was me.
âSo, what do you want?â
âWell⦠that isâ¦â
Selly clenched her fists and looked down. Finally, she spoke, squeezing out the words.
âIâll accept your offer⦠I will help youâ¦â
Why was it so hard for her to say that? It must have felt like making a pact with the devil to her. Still, this was crucial.
âSpeak clearly. Otherwise, leave.â
She shut her eyes and shouted.
âIâll accept your offer, young master!â
She should have done that from the start.
âIs that so? Too bad, Iâve changed my mind.â
Her eyes widened.
âWhy?â
âYou havenât even thanked me or apologized yet.â
I pointed to the floor and spoke calmly.
âIâll give you one last chance. Kneel and apologize properly. Then Iâll accept.â
Sellyâs eyes trembled. Asking for forgiveness was humiliating, but what choice did she have? She had to swallow her pride to survive.
âOr leave and die.â
I pushed her harshly. Slowly, her head bowed.
âIâm sorry for pushing you off the cliff. I wonât do it again. Please, forgive me, young masterâ¦â
Eventually, her forehead touched the floor. I considered giving her another flick on the forehead but stopped when I heard her sobbing. I waited until she calmed down, continuing to read.
Ten minutes later, she seemed composed, so I asked.
âAlright. First, I need information. You said everyone in the mansion wants me dead?â
âYes. Youâve made a lot of enemies.â
If that were the only reason, I would have died long ago.
âThe bounty the mistress placed on my head. Is that why everyone is after me now?â
âYes. The mistress promised a huge reward for your assassination in front of everyone in the mansion.â
Publicly ordering the death of a noble familyâs heir? She was either crazy or had enough power to lose nothing from such an act. Definitely the latter.
âTheyâll try to disguise it as an accident, right?â
âPreferably. She warned that obvious methods wouldnât be protected, as killing a noble is a serious crime.â
No blatant attacks, then. This was crucial information. The worst-case scenario was continuous assassination attempts, which even my one-second invincibility couldnât handle.
âDo you think I can survive?â
âYouâll likely dieâ¦â
Her answer was bleak. She must have come to me, seeing a one percent chance as better than certain death.
âBut if you can hold out until the duke returns, it might be possible. The mistressâs deadline is then.â
That piqued my interest. The duke was Herselâs father, Aol von Teneste. The mistress must be acting while heâs away.
âWhen is he returning?â
âHeâs on an expedition to subdue a demon territory. It should take just over two months.â
An expedition⦠If he returns, this situation will end.
âI have a condition if Iâm to help you until the duke returns.â
âA condition?â
âWhen you leave, take me with you.â
Where to?
âIf I stay here alone, I canât guarantee my life. If you canât agree, then forget this conversation.â
âTake you where?â
I stared at her. She narrowed her eyes.
âYou promised the duke you would go to the academy.â
The academy? A headache began to form. The academy was where the stories of thirty playable characters unfolded, a perilous place.
âGreat.â
Never mind. Iâll deal with it later.
âFine. You can come.â
She didnât seem reassured.
âDo you have a plan to survive until then?â
âOf course.â
Just as I was about to explain, the candle burned out. The roomâs only light source gone, I moved to the window and threw open the curtains.
Bright sunlight flooded the room, revealing the scenery outside. Maids cleaning windows, gardeners tending trees, and butlers bustling about. All eyes seemed to be on my room. They quickly averted their gazes.
âThatâs why you kept the curtains closed.â
âThe attention is overwhelming.â
I handed Selly an illustrated book.
âWhatâs this? The Arrogant Immortal? A myth?â
This was why I was reading ancient tales. I found a story that suited my one-second invincibility: the tale of a half-human, half-god who couldnât die. In Asareâs world, religion was pervasive, with firm beliefs in divine retribution and myths. I planned to use the guise of a mythical figure.
âI am the reincarnation of the Arrogant Immortal.â
My voice, combined with âNoble Bloodâs Ember,â was solemn. Selly looked at me with a mix of awe and disbelief.
âCrazy bastard, weâre doomed.â