I made a big mistake.

  I assumed it was morning and that breakfast hadn't been served yet. Jane might have forgotten, or assumed I was still in a bad mood — so I went straight to the kitchen myself.

  They both looked up at me, confused.

  "…?"

  I looked down. Something white was trailing along the floor behind me. I looked again to confirm.

  It was coming from me.

  What the hell is this?!

  I bolted back to my room and threw myself in front of the mirror.

  Flowing white hair that glowed faintly at the ends. Eyes as radiant as sunlight. The fairest skin I'd ever seen on any living person — and a face so unreasonably beautiful it didn't belong in the same world as the rest of us.

  "Who the hell are you?!"

  It was undeniably my face. But how had it changed this much?

  [Due to increased divinity, all stats have reached their peak.]

  Huh?

  [Your appearance will also shift in accordance with your divinity.]

  Shit. Then why isn't the Appearance Changing Kit working?

  [With high divinity, your true appearance cannot be masked — you are immune to all status effects.]

  I was practically shaking. I turned away from the mirror, turned back, turned away again. There was no angle from which this was better.

  A knock at my door. "Lady...?"

  "Jane...?!"

  I yanked the door open and pulled her inside before she could finish being confused. Wait — Josephine wouldn't act like this, would she?

  Weird. This felt less like Josephine and more like... me. My old self bleeding through.

  I didn't think too hard about it. I wrapped my arms around Jane's waist and buried my face in her skirt.

  "Jane! Help me!"

  "Eh?! Lady—! What are you—" She went red, gesturing urgently for me to let go.

  Before I could cling any harder, I spotted Peter peering in from the open doorway.

  I kicked the door shut in his face.

  "Jane — what I'm about to tell you sounds insane, but—"

  "It's fine, my lady." She took both my hands in hers and smiled, clear and steady. "If the Lady is willing to talk to me, that means you're finally opening up. Right?"

  "Jane...!" How could someone like her exist in this mansion? In the main house, everyone was two-faced — it was practically a job requirement. But Jane was just... kind. Straightforwardly, inconveniently kind, with no angle to it whatsoever.

  I hugged her as tightly as I could manage.

  "You'll stay by my side forever, right?"

  She startled — then puffed up her cheeks. "Of course. You are my only Lady. I don't serve the Konrow family. I serve Lady Josephine."

  "Thank you, Jane. For everything."

  She didn't answer. But I felt the dampness of tears against the back of my hand.

  The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

  After a while, I explained everything — well, not quite everything. I left out the gods and the memories to avoid confusion. As far as Jane was concerned, it was the Philosopher's Stone and nothing more.

  "But Lady — what do we do about your appearance?" she said, already working my hair into a braid so it wouldn't drag on the floor.

  "That's exactly the problem. I genuinely don't know."

  My knowledge only stretches as far as I remember, and even that has limits.

  "How beautiful—!" Jane seemed to have forgotten the crisis entirely, admiring her own work. "I haven't even put any makeup on you! You're lovelier than any princess I've heard of."

  I exhaled slowly. "This is going to be a problem."

  "It's just so pretty..." She pinched my cheeks.

  "Jane." I pouted.

  "I'll need to visit the city," I said.

  "It's been a while since you went, hasn't it?"

  The Information Guild. The Intelligence Guild.

  Josephine had visited it frequently — a way of keeping tabs on things that never made it into polite conversation. She was connected to the underworld, yes, but she knew her limits. Overextend, and it only invites ruin.

  I pulled on the robe Josephine had buried at the bottom of her closet — the kind that swallows your identity entirely when fully worn.

  "Tell Peter it's his day off." Jane bowed and made a note.

  "I'll be back before supper."

  "Lady."

  "Yes, yes — maybe a little after supper." I saw her brow crease with doubt and decided not to push it further.

  "Wait. I haven't eaten breakfast or lunch."

  I realized this while running through the forest like a shinobi, threading between trees at full speed. I always thought that style of running looked impractical in a certain anime — but it was genuinely effective.

  Occasionally a monster lunged at me. I punched it. It turned to pulp. I kept running.

  Eventually, Old York appeared through the treeline. With my current abilities, scaling the city walls was barely an inconvenience.

  The Fortress City, York — Old York to the locals.

  It had been the old capital of the Byzan Empire during the demonic wars of the last century. The damage it sustained and its geography meant it was eventually relocated within the Wailes, near the Northern mountain ranges — roughly the center of the Lantis Continent. Abandoned after the fall. Later rebuilt by the Krutzen Kingdom after they overthrew Byzan in what history would call the "Pseudo-Demonic Crusade," hunting down the remnants of the demon race. The old empire had dealings with them. Krutzen didn't.

  What actually matters: York is a hub — goods for common folk, and a home for criminals in equal measure.

  I cleared the wall and moved across the rooftops with ease.

  None of this was the Philosopher's Stone. Josephine was already capable of this. It was simply how she was raised.

  There — I found it.

  In the middle of the city's bustle, a narrow alley swallowed by foot traffic. Concealed within it, a wall held in place by magic — a barrier that stopped any further advancement. I stepped up to it.

  "In the void, lies GOD."

  The wall dissolved. A door took its place — heavy, like the entrance to a dungeon. I pressed my palm flat against it.

  "Stars, cosmos, gods, antrum, universe, anima, animusphere."

  The door swung open on its own. A warm, dim light spilled through.

  Inside: a small, windowless room. Cold despite its coziness. Two chairs and a table between them. In the far seat, a masked figure — one-eyed mask, swirling patterns like a sun etched across it.

  I sat across from him.

  "What would you like?" His voice was deep. Almost completely flat.

  I placed an emblem on the table — a goat-like devil cradling gems of different colors in each hand.

  "I'd like to see Umbra."

  Umbra — a name no one says aloud in York. But those in the intelligence guild know exactly what it means: the person at the top. The one who controls this city from inside the shadows.

  "As you wish."

  The figure disappeared through a door on the far side. After a short wait, a different figure entered — green robes, a mask split down the center, red on one half, white on the other.

  The aura rolling off them was meant to be intimidating.

  It didn't land.

  "Interesting..." The voice was almost inhuman. Something about it felt out of place in a room with walls.

  I knew their ability.

  [Eye of Truth] — a skill that sees past any opponent's surface. Every layer, every secret, laid bare.

  [Due to the effects of divinity, you are immune to all abilities!]

  It had no effect on me. Their most annoying trick, neutralized outright.

  I crossed my arms, crossed my legs, settled back.

  "Tell me — what do you seek, blessed one?"

  "A relic. Something that alters one's appearance."

  Pleasantries are not recommended in this line of work.

  They regarded me in silence for a moment, then tilted their head.

  "Is there not an alchemic method for such a thing?"

  "That's not your concern. What you provide is information, not opinions. I specified a relic for a reason."

  Their head tilted further — past the angle any human neck should comfortably allow.

  "Is that so?"

  I placed a pouch of platinum coins on the table. They spilled across the surface.

  "No... no... no..." They pushed the pouch back toward me, each word slow, each push deliberate. "Such information cannot be purchased with money."

  "Then..." I paused. "Information, in exchange."

  Their head raised. A flicker of something — surprise. "Information? We are the intelligence guild. Why would we need information from you?"

  "Because..."

  They waited.

  "I know who you are. Bephelgor."

  Their hands shot forward — tentacles unfurling from beneath the robes in an instant.

  [Your Divine Protection nullifies any influence!]

  "That doesn't work on me."

  "Tsk."

  The illusion collapsed. What sat across the table was, against all expectation, a perfectly ordinary-looking human being.