Isolde took half a step forward and lowered her voice.
“Father, since the fusion is about to begin, I’d like to inspect the materials in the underground laboratory ahead of time.”
Valen said nothing.
His cloudy eyes rested on her slender figure.
Isolde acted as though she hadn’t noticed his scrutiny and went on.
“The black salt, soul-sealing wax, potions, and the bone ash used to anchor souls all need to be counted again.”
She lifted her eyes, her voice softening.
“This batch of body parts is far more precious than before. I don’t want some minor mistake to affect your perfection. After all, if everything goes well, a part of me will be included in that perfection too.”
The words clearly struck Valen right where his twisted obsession with “perfection” lived.
After a moment, he slowly nodded.
“Very well. Go.”
Isolde bowed her head.
“Yes.”
As expected, that kind of shameless flattery suited Valen perfectly.
A deranged father, a deranged daughter, and a touching display of family affection, all wrapped in damp darkness and shared insanity.
Valen then waved one of his misshapen forelimbs, signaling for her to leave.
The nerves pulled tight in Isolde’s mind finally loosened a little. She put on a reluctant expression, as though she hated to leave him, and withdrew from the room.
The study door closed behind her.
The expression on her face faded in an instant, and only then did her breathing settle back into place.
Lia stood outside the door, her gray eye fixed on Isolde.
“Miss, you look very pale.”
Isolde glanced at her.
“I was overwhelmed by Father’s magnificent presence.”
Lia paused.
“Would you like me to prepare a basin?”
Isolde said nothing.
She raised a hand and rubbed her brow.
“No. Back to my room.”
Once they returned and the door shut behind them, Isolde leaned against it for a long while before finally forcing down the lingering nausea.
This dungeon was even more hellish than she had imagined.
In her previous life, she had only heard people say Valen was disgusting. She had never known the real thing could be that bad.
So the game had skipped right over virtual immersion and gone straight to full-body horror, had it?
But now wasn’t the time to complain.
She needed to figure out exactly what cards she had in her hand.
If this was still the world from her previous life, then players had status screens. NPCs affected by the same rules should have something similar.
Besides, what was she now?
An awakened NPC?
Some limited-edition hybrid of rebirth and game corruption?
Isolde closed her eyes and tried silently calling out in her mind.
System?
Status screen?
Hello?
The air stayed dead quiet. It was practically missing a raven flying over her head for effect.
She frowned.
Did she not have one?
No. That was impossible.
In her previous life, someone had revealed that the people of this continent were not all that different from players in terms of abilities.
If there had to be a difference, it was that they couldn’t summon a system screen.
But not being able to summon one didn’t mean they didn’t have one.
Those who joined certain classes or faiths gained basic abilities tied to them, while ordinary civilians had none.
Since Isolde was a Soul-Stitcher, she had to have at least the most basic class stats.
She tried a different approach.
She focused her mind and reached toward that faint, hard-to-name familiarity buried in her thoughts.
The next moment, a translucent gray screen appeared before her eyes.
[Name, Isolde Sylvain]
[Primary Path, Malice]
[Class, Soul-Stitcher]
[Secondary Path, None]
[Health, 350]
[Mana, 80]
[Defense, 50]
[Agility, 10]
[Strength, 10]
[Intelligence, 120]
[Passive Skill, Witch’s Mask]
[Skill Description, You possess exceptional talent in disguise and performance. You can charm creatures with lower Intelligence than your own, reducing their wariness by 60%.]
[Active Skills, None]
In Fallen Realm, a Primary Path was not a moral judgment. It was the source of one’s power.
Malice included darkness, curses, undeath, souls, and decay.
Her early stats weren’t bad.
But Isolde stared at the final line and fell silent.
She had been mentally prepared for this, but facing it head-on still made her want to fall apart.
She was supposed to be a beautiful madwoman NPC, Duke Valen’s adopted daughter, and one of the key figures in the castle’s lure-and-kill dungeon.
And yet she did not have a single active skill.
Did that make any sense?
Actually, yes.
It made perfect sense.
Isolde held her forehead and nearly laughed from sheer frustration.
No wonder the original Isolde’s main job in the dungeon had been deceiving people.
She really had been a pure actress.
Fragile body, low attack, low agility, no active skills.
If she got caught, she was dead.
Her only advantages were high Intelligence and a half-decent Mana pool.
With her current stats, fighting Valen head-on wouldn’t even count as scratching him.
At best, she would be giving him a free massage.
Still, she wasn’t completely doomed.
The continent in Fallen Realm was called Celandria.
The most terrifying thing about Celandria was its sheer freedom. It had multiple faiths, different races, countless factions, and enough chaos to make anyone lose their mind.
She remembered the five major powers.
Whitehaven, the Frostspine Northern Alliance, the Redwing City-States, the Greenrest Court, and the Forgepeak Dwarven League.
Each faction controlled different resources, and each had its own distinct faith.
Skills came in every shape and form, and there were countless ways to obtain them.
Since there were no visible levels, figuring out how to raise basic stats and improve skill strength had become one of the biggest research topics among players.
Based on what Evelyn Hart knew, attributes could be improved by wearing equipment, drinking potions, or training.
As for skills, people could open treasure chests, steal scrolls, learn from one another, collect Fallen Shards, or even build advanced skills from basic spell formulas.
In her previous life, there had been a group of truly unhinged and absurdly hardworking elemental players who collected basic spell formulas and brute-forced them into ridiculously powerful skills.
They had steamrolled everything in their path.
One of them had even solo-cleared an entire city.
Those people had been the best of the best.
Most others died on the road long before reaching that point.
Back then, Evelyn could only watch them shine from a distance, or hide nearby and steal a few scraps of useful advice.
But things were different now.
This body was weak, yes, but it had a brain.
A brain with 120 Intelligence.
If she still ended up kneeling and begging others to carry her, she might as well crawl back into a snake pit and start over.
Isolde continued reading.
At the bottom of the screen, another small section appeared.
[Soulbound Contract, Lia]
[Primary Path, None]
[Class, Doll]
[Health, None]
[Mana, None]
[Defense, 50]
[Agility, 60]
[Strength, 100]
[Intelligence, 20]
[Status, Absolute Obedience]
Isolde’s gaze froze.
She slowly raised her head and looked at the maid standing not far away.
Lia stood quietly in the shadows, half her face wrapped in yellowed bandages. Her gray eye held no emotion at all.
She was so thin she looked like a dry branch.
Her wrists were so slender that the hard knots beneath the bandages were visible.
No matter how Isolde looked at her, Lia did not seem like someone who could fight.
And yet her Strength was 100.
The limit for an ordinary person was 99.
Lia had somehow gone one point past the limit.
She was a walking stat monster.
Meanwhile, Isolde’s own Strength was 10.
She was about as strong as a freshly spawned chicken outside the beginner village.
If Lia wanted to, she could probably punch Isolde, dignity and all, straight into the wall.
Thankfully, Lia was a doll who didn’t think much for herself, and she was absolutely obedient.
The two of them also covered each other’s weaknesses.
In a way, Lia was the bodyguard made exactly for her.
According to Evelyn’s memories from her previous life, there had been very little information about Isolde. After Valen died, no one ever mentioned where she went.
Looking at Lia again, Isolde suddenly felt a little safer.
“Lia,” she said.
Lia immediately raised her eye.
“Miss.”
“Lift that cabinet.”
Lia walked over and placed both hands on the heavy old cabinet.
There wasn’t even a visible strain in her movements.
She lifted it smoothly and steadily into the air.
The bottles and jars inside rattled loudly.
Isolde fell silent.
What kind of delicate maid was this?
She was a household version of a human forklift.
Sure, she looked weak.
Sure, she had the settings of a pure tool character.
But so what?
A tool character used properly was the answer to the whole damn patch.
“Put it down,” Isolde ordered.
Lia obeyed and placed the cabinet back where it had been.
Isolde watched her for a moment, then asked,
“Lia, if I ordered you to attack Valen, would you do it?”