The silver-haired maiden narrowed her eyes dangerously at the youth.

"Good thing you’re not my enemy."

The Northern Coalition’s powerbrokers had thrust Verlith onto the throne of First Knight—a title bearing not just prestige, but terrifying authority over life and death.

They granted him troops, wealth, and fame for one purpose: to be their executioner, wielding power from the shadows.

Anyone opposing their laws would be branded with fabricated crimes. Then Verlith, the First Knight, would "uphold justice" by carrying out death sentences.

At first, Verlith believed his targets deserved their fate. But over time, fragments of truth surfaced. Among the dead’s belongings, he uncovered damning evidence of the powerbrokers’ own crimes.

Only then did he realize—he’d been used.

Refusing to remain a pawn, Verlith had long planned to flee the Northern Coalition. But they’d never let a man who knew their secrets escape. To avoid a lifetime of running, he’d stayed hidden these past years, lying low.

Now, with his changed appearance, a chance to break free entirely had finally come.

"Hey—earth to Verlith?" Ansal waved a hand before his friend’s distant gaze, frowning. "Shouldn’t *I* be the one saying I’m glad you’re not my enemy? Your methods with foes are... questionable. And those you hate? Real scum. I’d rather not join their ranks."

"Relax," Ansal grinned. "No one else would recognize you without a single hint."

"Fine. Since you *did* recognize me," Verlith shot him a disgusted look and exhaled slowly, "I might forgive whatever you’ve done to wrong me."

"Really?" Ansal’s eyes lit up.

"So you *have* wronged me! Confess!" Verlith’s sharp gaze pinned him, teeth gritted.

Ansal froze. A flicker of panic crossed his face before he forced a strained smile.

"You—you tricked me! What about basic trust between people?!" His voice trembled.

"Trust requires credibility. Yours with me hovers near negative infinity." Verlith’s stare could kill.

"Hah! As long as it’s not *below* zero..." Ansal visibly relaxed.

"Why does your relief piss me off?" Verlith snarled, grabbing Ansal’s collar. "I’ve lent you money countless times. How many repayments? Five fingers’ worth? If your family hadn’t helped me when I was broke, your credibility would’ve gone negative years ago! Want to end this friendship? Just say the word!"

"W-wait! If I *must* confess..." Ansal flailed, shameless. "I only... fantasized about your body! You know how it is—I propose sleeping together on our first date, and boom, breakup city."

"That’s because you ask to sleep with girls *the same night* you confess!" Verlith sneered, looking at Ansal like a cockroach.

"H-hey! Last time we met, you were still a man! You should understand my needs. And now..." Ansal leered, waggling his eyebrows. "You’re a stunning woman. ‘Don’t let good water flow to outsiders’ fields,’ right? How about helping your old friend ‘become a man’?"

"You little pervert! Can’t stay serious for ten seconds!" Verlith’s face flushed dark red. He slammed a fist into his palm. "I’ll strip you naked, tie you up, dump you in a pigpen, and dose the sows with aphrodisiacs. *They’ll* make you a man!"

"B-bro! No! I take it back!" Ansal yelped.

*Thud! Thud! Thud!*

Verlith yanked his clothes and unleashed a flurry of punches.

"I renounce all fantasies about your body! Okay?!" Ansal lay sprawled on the floor moments later, back turned, desperately clutching his half-ripped trousers.

"Hmph. Wise choice." Verlith exhaled sharply, as if emptying his lungs.

Dealing with Ansal drained him. This new body was weaker than his old one. Remembering his former self—confident, dashing, powerful—he lost the will to torment his friend and released Ansal’s belt.

"Eh? EH?!"

*Thump!*

Ansal yelped as gravity yanked him down. He rolled over, ready to complain—then choked on his words.

Before him stood the silver-haired maiden, breathing lightly from exertion. Her vigorous movements made her ample chest rise and fall—a sight to make any girl envious.

"...Is this the legendary ‘breast sway’?" Ansal’s breath hitched.

Her furrowed brow held none of their earlier playfulness. Beads of sweat glistened on her skin, dampening the silk white dress clinging to her porcelain flesh. With slender fingers, she brushed silver strands from her forehead.

Those pink eyes held no youthful innocence. Instead, they carried the weight of years—like a radiant pearl that, though fallen into darkness, still blazed with stubborn light.

This was her defiance. A hidden allure even she didn’t recognize. An allure that struck most men like lightning.

*Thump-thump. Thump-thump.*

Ansal’s heart hammered. His throat went dry. He swallowed hard.

*Breathtaking.*

Only that word filled his mind.

Though her face had changed utterly, the soul within felt bone-deep familiar.

If his old friend had been a violence-obsessed brute...

Now stood a goddess whose beauty radiated natural magnetism.

A beauty that touched the very pinnacle of human desire.