"The Demonic Sword... turned into black mist... and burrowed into my wound?"

"Correct."

"Burrowed into my wound? Are you sure?"

Eunice nodded again, her expression flickering with slight impatience.

Standing on the dark red carpet, "I" looked frail—easily toppled—with an ordinary gray jacket, casual jeans, and white sneakers. Outwardly, it was still me. But inside? A completely different person. He—no, she—seemed lost, scrutinizing me with a hint of unease hidden in her gaze.

"If that’s truly the case..."

Understanding dawned as I stepped closer to Eunice, reaching out to confirm my suspicion.

She flinched back instinctively, eyes sharp with caution.

"What are you doing?"

I gripped Eunice’s shoulders, locking eyes with grave seriousness.

"I need to verify something."

Eunice frowned, her shoulders tensing briefly before relaxing. "What?"

"If that sword really burrowed into my wound, does the wound still exist? Where did the sword go? If the wound healed, is the Demonic Sword trapped inside?"

"Hmm..." Eunice nodded slightly, then swatted my hand away and stepped back. "Don’t get so close. It makes me uncomfortable."

Her instinct rejected others—even her own body sparked revulsion. Yet I had no choice but to approach. Just as Eunice guarded her body, I had to protect mine. A chilling thought haunted me: if the Demonic Sword truly entered me, would Eunice flee with both the sword and my body? Leaving me utterly bewildered and stranded? I’d never allow that. I’d died once already—I feared nothing.

Resolute, I edged forward.

"Eunice, if we find a way to swap back... will you return my body?"

I stared into her night-dark pupils. My legs trembled slowly. Why were these eyes so terrifying? Were they still mine? Black, secretive, ominous—they held a strange power that chilled me to the core.

Her eyes blinked once.

"What are you saying? Of course we’ll switch back. It’s my body too."

Relief washed over me. I forced a laugh. "Ahaha... nothing. Just doubts. Let’s start searching for the Demonic Sword."

Eunice eyed me suspiciously but didn’t press. Calmly, she stated, "Your wound did heal."

"Any odd sensations? Pain? Tingling?"

She shook her head. "Nothing. It’s as if the Demonic Sword never hurt me."

"Huh. Then our search hits a dead end. What happened after you killed me with that sword?"

Eunice paused, recalling. "The Demonic Sword turned to black mist and burrowed into your wound. Before I could react, I lost consciousness. I woke up like this."

So she knew little either?

I opened my mouth to ask more—when the ground lurched violently. The entire hall shuddered. Black crystal lights blurred.

What?!

Off-balance, I stumbled and crashed down before my ankle could even register pain. The world twisted.

Eunice stayed steady, face unreadable. She seemed to hate showing emotion.

"Time’s up. The Demonic Sword was drawn. The Levitating Tower is teleporting the living."

"What? I don’t understand! What’s happening?"

"It’s the Distortion Field. Your weak spirit can’t withstand its magic."

Vision warped like ripples shattering a water reflection.

"Eunice, I can’t see!"

A roar erupted—not from outside. It blasted inside my ears, drowning all sound. Covering them did nothing; the noise drilled into my skull. Forehead, back of head, eyes—it pulsed with a single, terrifying tone.

I couldn’t speak. Not from silence, but from forgetting how. My mouth moved uselessly. Even if I screamed, I’d hear nothing but that roar. Was this sound torture... or just human hearing? Trapped in a kaleidoscope box, I saw only warped light.

Then darkness swallowed the last glimmer. The roar continued, unending. Ground tremors sharpened without sight. A strange sensation washed over me—I was being pulled up. Dizziness faded. Thought stopped. I sank into blackness.

Cold darkness. No—no cold either.

Like waking from ordinary sleep, I blinked open my eyes. Bright sunlight made me squint, hand raised to shield my face.

"Where... am I?"

Fully awake, I scrambled up, ignoring the glare, searching for Eunice.

That person—occupying my body—where was she?

Confusion settled as I took in the surroundings. Mountains stretched ahead. Distant trees were lush, but here, sparse woods opened into wide clearings. Green leaves, dry earth and stones underfoot. Faint birdsong carried on a breeze that soothed the soul.

Birdsong... I shuddered, remembering that roar. Thankfully, the agony had passed. Everything felt intact.

"Distortion Field," Eunice had called it. It teleported me out—but I still understood nothing. Last thing I recalled: someone pulling me up. Eunice? She mentioned the Levitating Tower teleporting the living. Did the dead stay behind forever?

Good thing I wasn’t dead. Just body-swapped.

But where was Eunice now—in my body?

Brushing dirt off my clothes, smoothing tangled hair, I decided: I had to find her. She’d killed me once, but my body was mine. Letting someone else control it felt deeply unsettling.

I turned to leave—when distant voices cut through the trees. Many people, approaching fast.

People? Strangers? In the wilderness?

What to do? Approach? I had no strength. Were they friendly or hostile? Danger loomed—and no 911 to call.

Hide. I ducked behind a tree instantly.

They rushed past, unnoticed. All armed, but their formation was chaotic—like prey fleeing a predator.

Ahead, where they ran, a figure dashed into view. A silver-haired girl in a white battle skirt, a Knightly Sword at her waist. She stood alone, blocking their path.

"Your insignia marks you as Sword and Axe Mercenary Corps, Third Division. Stop running. What’s chasing you? Why the panic?"

Dramatically, the mercenaries ignored her. They kept sprinting, silent.

The silver-haired girl’s eyes flashed cold. She gripped her Knightly Sword’s hilt and drew it with a screech.

"Apologies. To protect Her Royal Highness the Princess Royal, no one passes this point."

The sword screeched—piercing, metallic. I clapped hands over my ears instinctively.

She slashed the blade forward. A gale erupted, slamming an invisible wall into the mercenaries. They flew backward, crashing to the ground.

This girl felt stronger than Eunice.

She sheathed her sword calmly, stepping closer. "Now explain. Are you assassins targeting the Princess Royal... or just running for your lives?"

She hadn’t been nearby moments ago. Her speed was inhuman.

The mercenaries groaned but weren’t badly hurt. One leader struggled up, terror in his voice.

"A dragon! A giant dragon is chasing us!"