The lack of cold metal of my left hand felt strangely light. Walking out toward the grand exit of the estate mansion, my thumb instinctively brushed against my empty ring finger. Sylvia had taken my Space Ring earlier, claiming she needed it for a "modification."
Shehuang trailed a perfect step behind me, maintaining the flawless distance of a highborn noble's maid. A faint, knowing smile played on her lips as she felt the sudden phantom weight missing from my hand.
"Master, based on the noble etiquette knowledge you bestowed upon me, I believe the Duchess simply wished to engrave her name onto the gold band as your wedding jewelry," Shehuang murmured, her voice smooth and reassuring. "She does not have the time to alter its magical properties before tonight, haha."
I nodded, though the phantom limb syndrome remained. After getting used to having an entire dimensional storage unit attached to my hand, walking out without it felt exactly like leaving the house without my wallet.
I glanced back at her, my eyes catching the striking contrast of her black and white maid attire. I couldn't help but smile. "Shehuang, I've been meaning to ask. Why did you design that outfit with a short, mid-thigh skirt instead of the traditional long dresses the other estate maids wear?"
"Two reasons, Master," she replied smoothly, tilting her head. "First, it allows for an immediate transition into my Lamia form during an emergency. Second... I thought you might enjoy the view, or perhaps want to feel my legs while we travel. No?"
I let out a soft sigh, rubbing the bridge of my nose.
The emergency aspect was fair. Shehuang was a force of nature, but her deadliest assets were entirely locked away while she maintained a human vessel. To tap into the seven legendary auras of a Swift Knight, she needed her true Lamia form.
Without it, she couldn't access Fast Attacks, the unavoidable, aura-cloaked strikes that perfectly mirrored my own Wind Bolt spell. She lost Fleet Movement, which infused aura directly into the nervous system and muscles to double a user's ground speed—the exact power, unfortunately, that had led to my humiliating capture on the night of the panty incident. Her human form couldn't utilize Elusive Movements to dodge the undodgeable, nor could it sustain Heightened Awareness, the low-upkeep "sixth sense" that sharpened vision, hearing, and reaction times for hours on end.
Worse, her lethal finishers were completely sealed. She couldn't deploy the critical-seeking Vital Strike to instantly pierce eyes or hearts, nor could she unleash Triple Strikes, a terrifying flurry that hit three times simultaneously, forcing an opponent to block all three vectors at once or die. Even her utility was crippled; her Blink Teleport, which allowed her to phase through space at a rate of ten feet per Circle level, was out of reach. At the 7th Circle, her true form could bridge a seventy-foot gap in the blink of an eye.
Losing all of that just to look human was, frankly, a tragedy.
When we reached the stables, the massive silhouette of Sleipnir loomed in the shadows. I turned to my new summon, offering a brief warning. "Sleipnir is one of the fastest Demonic Clydesdales in existence. But he travels recklessly. Don't let him startle you."
Shehuang tilted her head, watching as the great beast eyed us with unmistakable mischief. The damn horse was brilliant, and he knew exactly how to make a fool of me in public. He loved pushing the pace just enough to make me yell for him to stop, acting like a sports car with entirely severed brake lines. He only ever behaved when Sylvia or Shade were within striking distance. The moment they were gone, he turned into a menace.
I stepped forward to hoist the heavy leather saddle, completely missing the silent interaction happening right behind my back.
Shehuang stepped into Sleipnir’s personal space. Before the horse could even register her movement, her hand clamped down over his snout. Her grip was like a steel vise, her manicured nails digging just deep enough to show they were sharper than steel.
Suddenly, the intelligent Demonic Beast froze. The casual facade shattered as he felt the suffocating, terrifying aura of a 7th Circle apex predator radiating from the woman before him. Sleipnir began to shiver violently.
Shehuang offered the beast a perfectly harmless, dazzling smile. "Listen well, animal," she whispered, her voice dripping with sweet poison. "If my Master is frightened by you even once today, I will personally show you why horse meat is considered a delicacy in the East. Do you understand?"
Sleipnir’s large eyes widened in sheer terror. In that exact moment, the stallion realized a horrible truth: understanding human language perfectly, but lacking the vocal cords to scream for help, was a nightmare.
He nodded frantically, doing everything in his power to keep from peeing on the stable floor.
Satisfied with the "friendly request," Shehuang released his snout and stepped back, smoothly transitioning back into a dutiful maid as I tightened the girth strap.
"Alright, Shehuang," I said, turning around and wiping my hands. "Do you want to ride behind me or in front of me?"
A flash of pure mischief sparked in her eyes, a tiny smirk tugging at her lips. "I'll hold onto you from behind, Master~♪!"
I swung up into the saddle and braced myself for the usual chaotic launch. To my absolute shock, Sleipnir trotted out of the barn with the pristine, disciplined grace of a royal parade horse. It was as if Sylvia herself were holding the reins.
Unfortunately, my relief was short-lived. Letting her ride behind me was a catastrophic mistake.
The moment we cleared the estate gates, her hands began to roam entirely inappropriate territories beneath my tunic. She leaned in close, burying her face in the nape of my neck, inhaling deeply before whispering lewd, teasing descriptions of what she wanted to do to me later just to drive me insane.
"Please, stop!" I hissed, my face burning as the cobblestone streets of the shopping district finally appeared. "We're at the jeweler's. Pull it together."
"Giggle~! Don't worry, Master," she purred into my ear, finally loosening her grip as we slowed to a walk. "When I tease you, I always ensure no one is looking, hehe."
I practically threw myself off the horse, catching my breath before reaching up to help Shehuang down. The moment her feet touched the ground, she immediately began smoothing out the wrinkles in my clothing—wrinkles she had entirely caused in the first place.
The trip to the jeweler was an absolute necessity of Myst's marriage customs.
Weddings here were typically straightforward, practical affairs meant to legally and socially recognize a union. The process followed a strict five-step progression. First, you exchanged a binding marriage contract, much like the soul-bond agreement I had already shared with Shade. Second, you hosted a grand banquet to feed your family, friends, and whatever local nobles you needed to show proper respect to. Third, the couple exchanged vows before sharing a single, unified cup of wine.
Fourth came the wedding jewelry. Unlike the rigid Western Earth tradition of rings, Myst allowed for rings, necklaces, earrings, or bracelets, so long as they were engraved with the partner's name. Finally, the couple was legally required to share the same bedroom and the same bed for the first night—no escaping to the floor or a guest couch allowed. Strangely, actually consummating the marriage on night one was entirely optional. I later learned this loophole existed for practical reasons, like a bride's monthly cycle, or in cases like mine, where a man was marrying multiple partners at once.
Inside the boutique, I carefully selected two heavy, beautifully crafted bracelets. I chose a deep, radiant gold for the Duchess, and a sleek, polished silver for my Mage Captain wife. I wasn't entirely certain about their specific ring sizes, and I didn't want to limit their options for personal jewelry in the future. In Myst, a heavy bridal bracelet on the wrist was the universal sign of a happily married woman.
I paid the shopkeeper, tucked the three velvet boxes safely away, and stepped out onto the bustling street. I hadn't even taken three steps when a deep, booming voice cut through the crowd.
"Jesus Christ, Loki! I haven't seen you in weeks and the rumors traveling down the river are absolutely nuts!"
The voice carried the unmistakable, heavy cadence of Western Common—a strange linguistic blend of Old English and Icelandic that dominated this side of the continent. The speaker was Thorin, my brother. He had once mentioned to me that back on Earth, his native Swedish tongue shared a lot of structural roots with how people spoke here in Myst.
As for his choice of deities? Thorin had been a Swedish covert operative who died fighting a shadow war against the Soviet Union in his past life.
Cursing by the old names was a hard habit to break. Unfortunately, due to our massive geographic and generational gap, he didn't understand a single piece of modern Earth slang, and my meme references flew entirely over his head. But I digress.
"What rumors?" I asked, offering a wry smile. "And what's up, brother?"
Thorin’s sharp blue eyes swept over the pristine, perfectly behaved Sleipnir, before locking onto the exotic, breathtakingly attractive maid standing at my elbow. He hesitated, looking visibly unsure.
"Father told me I had to be at the Duchess's estate by three o'clock sharp for your wedding," Thorin said, his brow furrowing. "Are you actually marrying Shade, or what? Because there’s another rumor flying around that Father refused to confirm... is Duchess Sky actually getting married tonight too?"
I missed it in the moment—the tiny, sharp seed of jealousy and envy that suddenly sprouted in my brother's chest.
"Cough... Um, yeah," I muttered, scratching the back of my neck. "I'm actually marrying both Shade and Sylvia Sky tonight. So..."
Thorin literally staggered backward, his boots scraping against the cobblestones as his face drained of color. "Holy flying fuck, Loki! You haven't so much as looked at a woman or gone out on a double date with me in years. Now you're telling me you bagged the literal Duchess? How?!"
Buzz.
Without a word, I quietly channeled my mana. A miniature sphere of condensed, roaring wind materialized over my open palm, and within its center, a single, perfectly formed acorn hovered in place. I held up the Wooden Bullet, letting the raw power of a dual-element spell hum between us.
"I became a Mage-Knight," I lied smoothly, keeping my voice level. "A dual-element user of Air and Life. The magical compatibility was a massive factor in our marriage."
I couldn't exactly tell him about the forced soul-bond that had actually kicked off the whole romance.
Thorin's pupils dilated as he stared at the acorn spinning inside what looked remarkably like a nature-infused Rasengan. His voice hitched. "Damn... you're like me? You can combine two elements?"
Outside of my romantic attachments, I trusted Thorin more than anyone in this world. I rarely kept secrets from him. But even the most loyal of brothers, friends, or comrades can be deeply wounded when the one thing they pride themselves on—their unique strength—is effortlessly matched or eclipsed.
It was a subtle shift, but it was the exact moment the foundation of our relationship began to warp. Years later, the bond between Thorin and I would become a tangled, complicated mess of mixed feelings and rivalry. But standing in the marketplace, that future was still too distant to worry about.
"Well, the Duchess took a liking to my magical theory," I added, keeping my tone casual so it didn't sound like I was rubbing his face in it. "After spending a month working closely together, we decided this was the best path forward."
Thorin took a long, steadying breath, forcing the tension out of his shoulders before offering a weak chuckle. "Damn. Wish I’ve been born a Mage instead of a Knight, then. Maybe I would've had a shot at a duchess, haha. Oh, right—who is the Eastern lady?"
Despite my trust in him, I kept my mouth shut about Shehuang's true nature. Being a Summoner was a secret that had to remain buried until we eventually traveled to the capital together. Thorin was a great brother, but when he drank, he sang like a canary.
Shehuang clearly picked up on the sudden, lustful shift in Thorin's gaze. Her expression melted into a warm, incredibly kind smile, though I could feel the sheer, icy annoyance radiating from her emotional bond.
"My name is Shehuang," she said, her voice dripping with artificial sweetness. "I am the Master's bed-warmer, graciously gifted by Duchess Sky to ensure Loki Sky remains warm every single night. It is a pleasure to meet you, brother of Loki."
Caw~!
High above, a stray crow broke the suffocating silence that immediately followed her introduction. Thorin and I exchanged an incredibly awkward, painfully stupid look, neither of us knowing where to put our eyes.
I quickly pointed toward the horses, desperate to shatter the tension. "Let's get moving, brother, or we're going to be late for our own banquet."
Thankfully, Shehuang kept her hands to herself for the ride back, spared by Thorin's presence. If she had tried anything while my brother was riding alongside us, I would have died of pure embarrassment right there on the road.
When we arrived back at the estate, the heavy atmosphere of family expectations was waiting for us.
We sat in the sprawling, lavishly decorated guest parlor, sipping expensive tea while I was systematically interrogated. I spent the better part of an hour constructing a delicate web of half-truths and plausible explanations to justify the absolute insanity of this sudden triple-union.
My mother sat right beside me, her face absolutely beaming with pride as she tightly held my hand. Across the table sat my father, flanked by Thorin's mother. Father had only brought these two wives today, as they were the human women responsible for giving him his two exceptionally talented, completely absurd sons.
My mother leaned in, her expression turning uncharacteristically solemn as she squeezed my fingers. "Son... the Duchess is a powerfully proud, terrifyingly independent woman. Tonight, in the bridal chamber... do not try to force anything with her. Do you understand what I mean?"
I stared at her, completely numb. Did she honestly think I was going to try and physically overpower a 9th Circle Arch-Mage on our wedding night? I'd be disintegrated before I could untie my boots.
If I hadn't been terrified of causing my father and brother to suffer simultaneous heart attacks, I would have laughed and joked right then and there. 'Mom, you don't understand. She's the one who forces me down!'
Instead, my brain short-circuited. I flashed back to this morning, remembering the terrifying ease with which Sylvia had physically dragged me backward across the bedsheets.
My mouth completely betrayed me. "Mom, but she pushes me down?! Huh—no! I didn't say that! Whistle~♪!"
My mother’s hand snapped across the table, forcefully clapping over my mouth as her eyes darted around the room in absolute horror. Beside her, my stepmother, my brother, and my father all froze. The collective expression on their faces looked exactly as if they had just been struck squarely in the chest by heavy ballista bolts.
I swallowed hard, silently thanking whatever gods were listening that Shehuang was currently stationed outside the room. If she had felt that sudden spike of sheer, unadulterated embarrassment through our bond, I would never hear the end of it.
Mercifully, the agonizingly awkward silence didn't last forever. Time blurred, the heavy grandfather clock in the corner ticked down the remaining minutes, and a head servant finally opened the double doors, bowing low to signal the start of the ceremony.
I stood up, smoothing the front of my tunic. I wasn't going to inherit the title of Duke tonight, but as I walked toward the grand hall, I knew my life as a commoner was officially over. Tonight, I was becoming a true Mage-Knight noble.
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