Isolde awoke to a cold, delicate fragrance.
It smelled like old roses dried beneath the sun, then sealed inside a coffin.
When she opened her eyes, the black canopy was still above her.
Dark red tassels hung from its edges, swaying gently in a breeze that seemed to come from nowhere within Sylvain Castle.
“Miss, you’re awake.”
Lia’s stiff voice came from beside the bed.
Isolde turned her head.
The doll maid stood quietly at her bedside. One sleeve of her uniform had been torn open, and grimy bandages hung loosely around her face.
She looked even more like a broken doll than before.
A tray rested in her hands, holding a glass of black-red liquid.
Isolde only glanced at it before her stomach cramped on instinct. Acid rose in her throat.
“What is that?”
Lia lowered her head.
“Bloodroot Tea. It soothes the soul.”
“Take it away.”
Isolde couldn’t stand the sight of anything like that right now. It kept reminding her of the rotten apple.
Lia obediently moved the tray farther away.
Isolde pressed a hand to her temple and tried to remember what had happened.
“How did I get back here?”
“You collapsed in the banquet hall,” Lia answered evenly. “I carried you to your bedroom to rest.”
Isolde braced herself against the bed and sat up.
The moment she moved, it felt as though countless silver threads had been pulled tight inside her skull. A web of fine pain spread through her mind.
The voice she had heard at the end of the previous night surfaced from her memories.
Her vision darkened, and her fingers tightened slightly.
She immediately realized something serious.
The original Isolde might still be here.
Or at least, the fragment of the original Isolde’s soul hadn’t completely disappeared when Evelyn entered this body.
It was like an anchor buried deep inside her.
Most of the time it remained silent, but it might decide to make its presence known at the worst possible moment.
The feeling was deeply uncomfortable.
Still, she had no time to argue with the former tenant inside her body. As long as the woman didn’t interfere, Isolde could tolerate her.
She closed her eyes and simply ignored the faint presence.
Then she looked at Lia.
“What’s the current state of the castle?”
Lia answered immediately.
“Following Duke Valen Sylvain’s death, absolute authority over Sylvain Castle was transferred to you.”
“From this moment forward, you are the sole master of Sylvain Castle.”
As soon as she finished speaking, faint footsteps sounded outside the bedroom.
A faceless servant entered with its body bent forward.
It had no features. Only a smooth layer of pale skin covered its face.
It carried a silver platter in both hands and knelt respectfully before the bed.
Everything dropped during the previous night’s battle had been arranged neatly on the platter.
[Bone Blade Fragment]
[Remnant Necrotic Light]
[Damaged Bone Bow Component]
[Tarnished Silver Candlestick]
There were also two unused Beginner Healing Potions, a badly chipped dagger, and several copper coins stained with black blood.
Isolde’s gaze lingered on the Tarnished Silver Candlestick.
She couldn’t help laughing.
Rowan had stolen it without the slightest hesitation. He probably never imagined that both he and the candlestick would eventually be delivered straight back to her.
If those three “heroes” hadn’t been so eager to offer their services and trigger player loot drops, obtaining these materials wouldn’t have been nearly as easy.
The Remnant Necrotic Light was especially valuable.
It was considered an excellent early-game material and could apply a low-grade enchantment to undead or Soul-Stitcher equipment.
In her previous life, even glancing at something like this had earned her a mocking question.
“Do you even know what that is?”
Now it had been delivered directly to her bedside without her lifting a finger.
Most of their other equipment had probably vanished with them because it was bound to its owners.
Isolde was about to tell Lia to put everything away when something caught her attention.
Three small gray stones lay near the edge of the platter.
They had been hidden beneath the Damaged Bone Bow Component.
Isolde moved the materials aside and touched the dusty stones with her fingertips.
Each one was small enough to fit comfortably in her palm. Faint concealment runes had been carved across their surfaces.
At first glance, they looked like ordinary gravel.
Then her status screen appeared.
[Rare Item, Concealed Inventory Stone.]
[Description, Conceals one inventory slot from low-tier detection skills. Drops upon death.]
Well, well.
Three unexpected bonuses.
She crushed the Concealed Inventory Stones one at a time.
When the first stone broke, a small gray-white fragment of bone rolled out.
It was as thin as paper, but its edge gleamed with razor sharpness. A line of tiny ancient script had been carved into its surface.
[Special Material, Oathbreaker’s Jawbone.]
[Quality, Rare.]
[Description, The jawbone of someone who broke many promises during their lifetime. May be used to create contract items.]
[Special Effect, The bound subject cannot lie to the contract holder. If the bound subject breaks a promise, they will suffer soul backlash.]
Useful.
With this jawbone, she wouldn’t have to worry about being betrayed or cheated during an important deal.
Empty promises would finally come with consequences.
Unfortunately, it appeared to be a single-use material, so she would have to save it for the right moment.
The second Concealed Inventory Stone broke apart, revealing an ordinary-looking silver button.
[Special Equipment, Secret-Seeker Button.]
[Quality, Rare.]
[Description, Touch any button on a target’s clothing to replace it automatically. Reveals loopholes in contracts and the target’s most recent concealed action. Detection will fail if the target possesses a Concealed Inventory Stone, disguise item, or concealment spell.]
[Restriction, May be activated three times per day. After a failed detection attempt, the button becomes unusable for 24 hours.]
Isolde studied the plain silver button with growing interest.
She didn’t know which of the three had owned it, but its owner had probably used it to spy on the other two.
That would explain why they had chosen the Black Glass at the final moment.
When the third stone shattered, a single drop of black wax appeared in midair.
It didn’t fall.
Instead, it writhed slowly like a living creature while a faint, cold fragrance spread through the room.
[Special Item, Night Prayer Wax Tear.]
[Quality, Rare.]
[Description, When lit, creates an Illusion within a designated area. Targets who enter its range will become Afraid and complete the illusion with the scene they fear most.]
[Special Effect, Illusion realism increases if the target is Exhausted or Afraid.]
[When the Wax Tear burns out, the Illusion will collapse inward, inflicting Cognitive Confusion on all affected targets for 3 seconds.]
Isolde’s eyes flickered.
No wonder all three had promised to choose the White Glass while reaching for black the moment the timer ran out.
Every one of them had been hiding a trump card.
Each had believed they could take the other two’s skills and items and rise to power overnight.
From the beginning, they had assumed everyone else would lie because that was exactly what they would do.
Isolde scoffed.
“People cut from the same rotten cloth always seem to find each other.”
Lia’s cloudy eye shifted slightly.
“Are you pleased, Miss?”
Isolde tossed the items back onto the platter.
“Not particularly. I just don’t think their deaths were unfair.”
She had seen plenty of the same behavior in her previous life.
Players would lure teammates into swarms of monsters for a single rare skill book.
So-called permanent parties would fall apart overnight over one piece of equipment, sometimes tricking their healer into becoming a sacrifice along the way.
Some people even pretended to help beginners. They waited until the newcomers had gathered enough materials, then murdered them and took everything.
That was the most useful thing about this game.
It stripped away the disguises of those who believed they were merely here to “experience a virtual world” and revealed what they had always been underneath.
Isolde lazily leaned back against the bed.
“Put it on the desk.”
The faceless servant bowed and carried the platter to the writing desk.
Even the arrangement of the items looked formal enough to be an offering.
Lia remained beside the bed.
“Would you like them sorted and placed in storage?”
“Not yet.”
Isolde pushed aside the covers and got out of bed.
She swayed when her feet touched the floor. Lia immediately reached out to steady her.
Once Isolde regained her balance, she frowned.
“How long was I asleep?”
“Eight hours and thirteen minutes.”
That wasn’t bad.
At least it was a normal night’s sleep.
She summoned her status screen.
A gray display quickly appeared before her.
This time, it was no longer the plain status panel of an NPC.
A dark red border surrounded it, making it resemble an old sheet of parchment soaked in blood.
[Name, Isolde Sylvain.]
[Affinity, Dark Path.]
[Current Identities, Master of Sylvain Castle, Soul-Stitched Witch, Soul-Stitcher.]
[Faction, Sylvain Castle.]
[You have become the new master of Sylvain Castle and completed your first Blood Banquet Judgment.]
[Reward, Castle Intimidation increased.]
[Reward, Loyalty of low-tier servants locked.]
[Reward, Basic castle modification authority unlocked.]
[Personal attributes greatly increased.]
[Health, 350 to 450.]
[Mana, 80 to 140.]
[Defense, 50 to 100.]
[Agility, 10 to 20.]
[Strength, 10 to 18.]
[Intelligence, 120 to 130.]
Isolde fell silent when she reached the final lines.
Eighteen Strength.
She had evolved from a harmless chicken wandering outside the beginner village into a chicken that could peck someone.
What a remarkable achievement.