The staircase we were in was grim. Thin light bled through the high window, doing little to cut through the gloom of the landing. The stairs, once wide enough for four people side by side, now felt suffocatingly tight.
"Centurion," I said. "We need to drop him."
"High Priestess," he replied, his words fighting against the pounding in my ears, "forgive this humble servant—"
"We don't have time." I stood up, shaking off the dizziness. "Brutus, carry Saint Leonard over to the landing above." My hands rested weakly on Centurion's shoulders. I looked him close in the eyes. "Potion is highly effective. We need to forcefully guide it before it's too late."
Pylades jumped to his feet with a sharp inhale. He quickly joined Brutus, who was already placing Leonard on the landing above. Leonard's motionless vessel hung in his arms; the sight made a knot in my chest.
"Take his legs," I said to Brutus. "Centurion, you take his arms."
They did as I said. I didn't see Brutus's face in Shadow Knight's armor, but Pylades's eyes were wide open, no trace of past fatigue on his face.
"Good. Now lift him up."
I underestimated their strength and enthusiasm. They lifted him like a sheet to be placed on a bed—too high.
"Lower, lower, just above your ankles. That's it."
*Aide, Cursed Eyes.*
The catalyst swarmed Leonard's body—some particles nervously drilled his bones, others wandered his flesh aimlessly.
*I have to do this. It's to help him. Forgive me, Leonard.*
The words felt like thick paste on my tongue. I had to force myself to spit them out.
"N-now drop him."
A quiet thud as he fell like a doll. For a moment, catalyst navigated toward the skull, shoulder blades, and hips. But it quickly dissipated chaotically.
"This is not working. Higher, below your knees."
They released him simultaneously, and I hated myself for saying that. He slammed into the ground like a sack of wet sand. His head made a plushy crack—and my heart skipped a beat.
This time more of the catalyst found its way, but not enough. Potion was still releasing more than we could guide.
I ran up toward the landing and crouched near Leonard. I tilted his head, ignoring the growing headache from overusing the Cursed Eyes. A tiny fracture was visible on the back of his skull, where most of the force went.
*This is not happening. No, no.*
My thoughts raced but there was no solution.
*I can't continue to drop him like this. Not effective enough.*
I blinked rapidly as if it could change reality. Aide deactivated Cursed Eyes on the mental order. Colors returned to the world, but faint.
*Can't raise higher, his bones will break. He... if injured, h-he won't be training tomorrow.*
The walls leaned in toward me, in a rhythm of my heart pounding in my ears.
*This is not happening. Not again. I won't lose another one.*
"High Priestess, what's going on?" Brutus asked, but I barely registered it. "Do we go again?"
I looked at Leonard in a futile attempt to find a solution, and I noticed his eyeballs moving quickly behind his eyelids. His shoulder twitched.
~ ? ? ~
Victoria sat beside me, Veronica on her lap.
I was lying in the hospital, the cannula in my wrist stinging unpleasantly.
The light was cool, bright white.
Rhythmic, silent blip of medical machinery that monitored me.
Resonant thrum of the respirator.
My labored, wheezing breath in the mask.
All that melted into one muffled murmur.
"You should agree, Leonard." Victoria said, her eyes teary.
"Agree to what, mama?"
"It may be your only chance," she said, ignoring my sweetheart.
The mask was not a mask, it was intubation and words stuck in my throat.
I tried to reach out my hand to her, but it stopped on an invisible wall. Curved around my vision.
*Vivi.*
Air became chilly. The glass separating us got frosty, hiding their faces.
*Don't wait...*
The cuffs appeared on my wrists and ankles, pinning me to the hospital bed.
*...for me...*
Then cold metal around my neck and chest tightened, pushing the air out of me.
*...too lo-*
The blip one last time, then a constant, flatline tone.
My heart stuck mid-beat. Suspended. Like my thoughts.
The tone broke into a sharp jolt, a painful surge that ran through my body.
I gasped, eyes half closed. Someone was leaning over me. Something pulled at my stomach like tightening strings, forcing my body upright, and I sat up.
"Leonard, potion is going out of control," Althea said coldly. "But don't worry, I woke you up and you can continue now."
With eyes half closed I saw my guard. His name was...
"Leonard!" A woman's voice rang in my ears. It was—it was Evadne.
Arms pulled me up. "Quickly, help him descend," she added.
I stood, but my legs, as if made of cotton, rejected my will. I felt the cozy darkness enveloping me, a well-earned rest.
A lesser jolt from my wrist shook my nerves, robbing me of the peace that had just started.
Then again, straight to my legs, just enough to tighten my muscles. I stood, but the world began to tilt.
I felt arms pressing against me just enough so that I didn't fall, but they weren't more helpful than that.
I made a step. When my heel hit the stairs, something inside my body woke up.
Angry.
It chipped at my heel with fury. And my companion, pain, came back.
Next step, again. But miners in my back joined the assault.
Next step, again. Reinforcements came; I was overwhelmed.
*We're in the elevator again—when did that happen?*
Out again.
Stairs.
*How many times now?*
I didn't know. I didn't even have the strength to ask. Every time I was close to my well-earned rest, Althea prevented me. "Not yet, Leonard."
My bones were not bones anymore; they were hot lava. My heavy head fell against my chest, giving slight relief to my back, but someone pulled it back in place, and the pain intensified. Was it Evadne? Or Althea?
My flesh was not flesh anymore; it was itching.
All that was left was my resolve, scarred and crumbling, yet I pushed forward.
The elevator doors opened. Again. Have we done this ten times? Twenty? I couldn't remember.
Stolen novel; please report.
I walked down the stairs and walked and fell into Brutus's arms, and walked again, and fell again.
Finally, Althea said:
"Leonard, the catalyst is fully bound. You can rest now."
And the nagging jolt pulsing from my wrist finally stopped. Colors of the staircase lost intensity, faded into a grey blur, then snapped to pitch black like somebody turned the lights off.
~ ? ? ~
My body, as if made of stone, weighed on the bed. I heard quiet, steady breathing that wasn't mine. Two sources, actually. From behind my closed eyelids, I sensed daylight.
I was dry as sand when I rasped, "Water."
A hand slipped behind my head, lifting me, and put a cup to my mouth. I drank greedily, and as cold fluid entered my burning body I felt slight relief. After I finished a cup, I tried to open my eyes and succeeded with effort. A stone ceiling greeted me, cold and indifferent.
*My cell. I'm sore all over. But only a bit, like in a cold. I expected worse.*
The annoying, creeping itching slowly woke up deep down inside my bones.
*I'm quite fine. Except that I can't move.*
Muscles ignored my commands. All they did was respond with spasms. A few more attempts and my brain finally convinced my limbs to obey. I managed to place a hand on my forehead. It was hot.
*Do I have a fever?*
"Evadne?" I asked, but someone hushed me, "Quiet, she's sleeping."
I tilted my head. I met calm, silver eyes above a slender neck with red jewelry. Pythia. My blurred sight focused. Evadne was lying on the floor on a thick, stuffed mattress behind Pythia. A thin grey blanket was Evadne's only cover besides her daily robes. Her breath deep and noisy. Dark circles shadowed her closed eyes. Beside her sat a cup with a cold, grey beverage.
*Coffee? No, different.*
A mint-like scent sent a chill through my nose and cleared my thoughts a little.
Pythia placed a spoon near my mouth. The faint smell of bland glue attracted me as if it were first-class food made by the best chef in the world. My stomach growled with demand.
Fortunately, my bed had a function I didn't know about. Pythia pulled a lever beneath the frame, and with a low groan, the mattress hinged upward. I was propped at a forty-five-degree angle, ready to eat without moving a finger. I cherished every second of resting like that.
As I ate, Althea chimed in, "Congratulations, your first day of training is complete!"
I ignored her, Pythia did the same, focusing on feeding me.
*If that was the first day, how would the next one look?*
I pushed the thought away, focusing on Pythia's words.
"I have good news and a bad news." Another spoon landed in my mouth. "You have hyper-compatibility with the Crucible potions." I chewed the glue and the thought alike, trying to weigh the value of that 'news'. "That means you will get excellent results, if you complete."
*This is... nice, I guess. So what's the bad news?*
"But prepare yourself to face the day like yesterday for the next three months."
*Shit, I knew it wouldn't be easy. But... that was a bit much. One day done, just eighty-nine to go?*
After a few more spoons the bowl was empty. The whole metallic pot waited on the desk. I raised an eyebrow, but my belly convinced me with another growl that the pot was actually a very welcomed sight, so I didn't comment.
Pythia stood up, lifted the pot's cover letting the steam come out, and soon sat back with another full bowl on her lap. She was mixing the contents slowly with the spoon, clearly waiting for my reaction.
"Can't you just give me less of the potion then?"
"We can't. You're fully and totally addicted to the potion right now."
"Addicted?" I asked just before the wooden spoon landed in my mouth.
"Yes, it's part of your metabolism now." Pythia's eyes darted away for a moment. "You'll die without it."
*Ah! Of course. I expected no less from this fairy-tale world. Damn.*
"Can't we lessen the dosage slowly?" I asked with my mouth half full. She placed a faint smile on her face, but it didn't meet her eyes.
"We will, but it will be part of the normal Crucible protocol. Next potion will take its place for the next month. Then, finally, the last potion for the last month. That's the only way out of this."
We looked each other in the eyes, but I didn't see Pythia. I saw... the stairs moving below my feet. I felt the helmet's cushion pressing against my skull. Involuntary muscle spasms. Jolts.
A simple walk down the stairs, if not for the potions. It turned out to be a hell of its own.
*I'm not sure if I can make it.* My chest deflated. Something faded inside me, shrunk and became weaker.
Then a spark lit up. *You're already strong where it matters,* Hector's words echoed in my mind, patching up my crumbling resolve. *Now work on the rest.* I swallowed the lump growing in my throat.
*Yes. Yes, I did push through.*
*With Pylades' guidance.*
*With Brutus' and Silas' protection.*
*With Evadne's care.*
*With Althea's... with her help.*
*With my resolve, with my purpose, I will make it.*
*It will be hard, brutal effort, but I can do this, I convinced myself. I have to.*
Now that I thought about all the effort from yesterday, I was probably stinking. But Pythia's expression didn't show anything. Sun from behind clouds shone weakly through the window on my left, but it was enough to make Pythia's red jewelry shine on her neck.
I traced the sheets beneath me. They held the damp weight of my cold sweat. My nostrils widened for a moment as I tried to judge if I stunk, but I didn't smell anything in particular.
"Maybe I should take a bath," I said, hesitantly.
"Evadne washed you already," she said without a hint of shame or embarrassment. Contrary to what I felt when I heard that. I gulped.
*How thoroughly? Nevermind, it's just a distraction. What's done is done. They took care of me, that's all.*
Pythia's eyes shifted to the letter beside the pot with a red wax seal. It was lying exactly where I put it yesterday.
*It was yesterday, right?*
My paranoia almost made me ask Pythia if only one day had passed, but everything proved it had been just a day.
Pythia took a breath, readying to ask me about the letter, but then a heavy knock on the door interrupted her.
"Highest Priestess," *Corvus?* "Inquisitor with urgent report demands audience."
For one who was never saved, to bring salvation to all.
In the vast continent of Aethelgia, legacy is power. Bloodlines decide talent, ancient Arcana shape nations, and forgotten miracles still echo through the roots of Aethelhum, the cosmic tree worshiped by millions. Empires rise around inherited might, and behind every noble crest lies a history written in magic, conquest, and silent tragedies.
Siegfried Fors was not born into this world. He once lived behind screens and firewalls, a hacker who bent digital laws until fate bent him instead. After dying in an act of selfless instinct, he awakens as a child in Fors Barony. But peace is fragile. Strange forces hunt for children marked by destiny, empires whisper of national treasures gone missing, and ancient powers stir beneath the soil. In the middle of it all stands a boy who was never meant to exist here.
Yet Siegfried’s arrival is not a coincidence but the beginning of a quiet upheaval. For one who was never saved in his first life, he now walks a path where salvation becomes something he must forge with his own hands, for himself, for his family, and for a world teetering between old rivalries and awakening dangers. As empires maneuver in the shadows and forgotten legacies resurface, a single boy carries the potential to tip the balance… or shatter it entirely.
What to expect:
- Emotion-rich storytelling centered on flawed, compelling characters
- Unique magic systems, elemental paths, and Arcana
- Deep worldbuilding with layered mysteries that expand across arcs and continents
- A progression system tied to growth, struggle, and discovery
- A protagonist who grows through vulnerability, not perfection, moving through grey area.
- Themes of redemption, family, salvation, and destiny
Appeals to readers who enjoy: Mushoku Tensei, Frieren, Lord of the Mysteries, TBATE.
Volumes One & Two ongoing — steady releases.
New chapters released regularly — join the journey.