The black-haired girl didn't answer directly, which was as good as an admission. She continued to squint at Eros, her gaze filled with suspicion. "It’s truly bizarre. Why is the Mistress’s aura so incredibly potent on you?"

  Eros was genuinely confused. "I’m a direct descendant," he offered tentatively. "Isn't it normal for me to carry my ancestor’s scent?"

  "No, it isn't," she retorted, shaking her head vehemently. "Your elders carry none of it. When I first woke up and sensed you, for a fleeting moment, I actually thought the Mistress had returned."

  Eros frowned. A thought began to take root in his mind, and he decided to test a theory. "Is the Ancestor’s True Name... Alicia?"

  The girl’s eyes ignited with a sudden, joyous light. "The Mistress’s name has long been buried by the Authority of Secrecy. In this era, barely anyone remembers it. How do you know? You have seen her, haven't you?"

  Eros fell silent. He remembered the Elven Goddess calling him "Alicia" in that vision. At the time, he thought it was a mistake or a glitch. Now, it was clear: she hadn't been calling for a stranger; she had been addressing his ancestor.

  But... could a God truly be mistaken?

  Probably not. Yet, Eros knew his own truth. He wasn't from this world. He was a transmigrator who had arrived in this life with his memories of Earth fully intact. There was no way he was the Goddess of Night. Besides, the Ancestor was a woman, and he was very much a boy. The more he thought about it, the more the logic coiled into a messy, impenetrable knot.

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  After a long pause, he spoke hesitantly. "The Elven Goddess mentioned it to me. But she seems to have mistaken me for someone else—she mistook me for the Ancestor."

  The black-haired girl’s eyes went wide. Her jaw dropped in sheer disbelief. "You? This perverted junior... the Mistress? That’s impossible!"

  Her expression was that of a devastated superfan watching their favorite idol’s reputation crumble in real-time.

  Feeling a bit self-conscious under her horrified gaze, Eros cleared his throat. "Exactly. Like I said, she was definitely mistaken."

  The girl bit her lip and went quiet. Even if she agreed that the Elven Goddess was wrong, she couldn't shake the question: Would a being of that magnitude truly make such an error?

  Silence stretched between them until she finally spoke again. "Hey! Junior! Form a contract with me."

  Eros was caught between shock and delight. Wait, there’s a free lunch after all? I get to 'white-haul' a literal Divine Artifact?

  Though excitement nearly short-circuited his brain, he managed to cling to a shred of rationality. "Why me? Why choose to sign a contract now?"

  "My power was exhausted ten thousand years ago while I was searching for the Mistress," she explained, her voice dropping. "Since then, I’ve been in a deep sleep, only waking for brief moments. Even though your ancestors offered Spirit Marrow as tribute, those two dogs—the other artifacts—hogged all the resources while I was unconscious. I’m incredibly weak right now. I can barely even maintain the form of these clothes."

  A faint blush touched her cheeks, but she pressed on. "If this keeps up, I’ll fall back into a slumber very soon. I want to sign a contract because only through a bond can I draw 'Spirit' from you. It’s the only way I can stay awake."

  She looked away, her tone becoming uncharacteristically fidgety. "And... I want to observe you. I agree with you that the Elven brat was probably mistaken, but the aura on you is real. If I follow you, I might actually find the Mistress."

  As she spoke the last part, her eyes wandered, pointedly avoiding Eros’s face.