One of the grenadiers finally stepped forward, summoning the courage to stand a little closer before Alexion.
"My Lord, we received a direct order from our squad leader to proceed immediately to the manor's east corridor!" he reported firmly. "But… we accidentally got separated from him along the way..."
"...What?"
Alexion stared at him in disbelief. The words made almost no sense. How could trained grenadiers get separated—inside a building that wasn't even particularly large?
Anger surged in his chest. He was on the verge of unleashing his fury at the awkward-looking soldiers standing before him. But as his gaze swept over their young faces, something dawned on him.
These soldiers... were fresh recruits.
And deep down, Alexion knew—part of this was his fault. In recent years, his focus had been so consumed by administrative duties that military oversight had begun to slip through the cracks.
"Damn it... forget it."
"Forgive us, My Lord!"
"I said forget it!" he snapped. "Don't waste time!"
"Y-Yes, sir!" The young recruit stammered, then continued, "Suddenly, our squad leader came and told us that... that you yourself had ordered us to go to the east corridor!"
Alexion's brows furrowed immediately, confusion clearly etched on his face. He couldn't recall giving any orders recently—certainly not anything this urgent. Something was wrong... and now, this chaos was beginning to undermine the entire chain of command.
"What was the reason, Grenadier!? Didn't they teach you that in the military, every report must be brief, precise, and clear!?"
"I-I apologize, My Lord! But… from what we heard, he said there's… there's a sinister creature roaming the east corridor!"
The report was vague—painfully so. A "sinister creature" was all the soldier said. That did nothing to clarify the situation.
But the moment that phrase entered his mind, Alexion's thoughts flashed back to something that had nearly killed him—during his very first deployment alongside his father.
"Don't tell me it's… Eldirith…"
Just saying the name made his body go rigid.
And yet, that was highly unlikely. The last known appearance of an Eldirith among humans had been during a battle on one of the plains in the Middleland Countries.
Back then, amid a brutal clash, an Eldirith had suddenly manifested in the middle of the battlefield. Fortunately, a priest of Luben had been present—and with great sacrifice, they had managed to defeat it, though at the cost of many lives.
What made it more terrifying was the fact that the Eldirith they fought was among the weakest of its kind—and had only appeared there by pure accident, having been teleported into the human world by unknown means.
"I don't know for sure, My Lord," the recruit replied, "but the last time anyone saw it, it was in the east corridor!"
"The east corridor?"
The voice came from behind the slightly open door—and in an instant, Eudoria appeared, her face visibly pale with worry.
Ah... of course, Alexion thought. He suddenly remembered—their daughter Seraphelle's room was located in the east corridor, along with several rarely used chambers.
Without hesitation, Eudoria rushed toward the grenadier giving the report. Panic radiated from her every movement—even lifting her gown to run faster, something completely unbecoming of a noblewoman.
"Hey! What about Seraphelle's room!?" she cried, clutching the soldier's shoulders and shaking him. "Answer me! What's her condition!?"
All noble protocol and decorum vanished from her mind. Only one thing mattered now—her daughter's safety.
Meanwhile, the grenadier looked completely overwhelmed. He couldn't even form a response as Eudoria shook him anxiously, scattering his thoughts into nothing.
"Hey, calm down," Alexion said quickly, pulling Eudoria away from the poor soldier.
"Calm down!? But Seraphe—"
"I understand. That's why you must stay calm."
Alexion knew all too well that her panic could only worsen things—especially in a situation already spiraling out of control. Steadily, he grasped both her shoulders—firmly, yet gently. He could feel how violently her body was trembling.
His pale blue eyes, which usually made others feel small in his presence, now served as a source of calm for Eudoria. His steady, warm gaze helped her slow her breathing—even if the anxiety in her heart hadn't fully eased.
"Stay calm. I know how much you worry about our daughter," he said, his voice low and steady. "And so do I."
Eudoria bit her lip, then gave a small nod. "Forgive me..."
"I'll go and see what's happening. But you need to stay here."
"No. I'm coming with you."
Alexion frowned, his brow deeply creased. "Have you lost your mind? We don't even know what's out there. I won't put you in danger."
"But—"
"No." His voice was sharp and final. Then, to soothe her nerves completely, he leaned in and pressed a kiss to her forehead. He gently brushed her hair aside, looking deep into her worried eyes.
"I will not let our only child die just like that."
Eudoria finally lowered her gaze. "...Thank you, My Lord."
Alexion nodded, then looked around. Just then, Aeson appeared behind the door.
"Aeson," he called. "You'll stay here. Watch over Eudoria. Consider that a direct order."
"Understood, My Lord."
Once he was sure Eudoria had calmed down enough, Alexion prepared to leave. He turned to go—but just before stepping out, a gentle hand caught his arm from behind.
"Be careful..." Eudoria whispered. Her eyes held a hope too heavy to speak aloud.
"Of course."
There was no more time to waste. With determined steps, Alexion led his grenadiers toward the east corridor.
Eudoria didn't say a word as Alexion finally walked away. She simply watched his back until he disappeared from view, then lowered her head in silence. Aeson stood beside her, not daring to utter a single word.
Only silence remained… and hope.
---
*
"Hmm..."
My fingers brushed against my cheek as my gaze met a pair of unfamiliar eyes staring back at me from the surface of the water.
"No matter how many times I see it… it still feels unreal."
I stood in the middle of a garden filled with bright, blooming flowers, surrounded by soft, green grass. At its center, an old fountain trickled gently, and in the still water below, my reflection appeared clearly.
I stared at the face in the water—at eyes that didn't feel like mine, at least not the ones I remembered.
I still didn't understand how I ended up in such a strange place. When that girl of light did something to my body, I thought she was sending me to my final resting place—or at the very least, to some kind of peaceful ending.
But that wasn't what happened.
What I got instead… was a whole new confusion. I woke up somewhere else entirely, surrounded by walls and antique furniture straight out of another era. Then suddenly, a girl appeared—dressed like a Victorian-era maid. But before I could even say a word, she screamed and bolted from the room.
Of course, I chased her. But by the time I caught up, she was already with a group of others dressed just like her. And when I tried to speak to them, their reactions weren't any better: more screaming, more frantic running—like they'd just seen a ghost.
And it kept happening.
Every time I encountered someone in the halls, it was always the same—they'd scream and flee, just at the sight of me.
As if being stuck in a small, unfamiliar body wasn't bad enough, now everyone seemed to avoid me like I was cursed. Even a passing glance was enough to send them into a frenzy.
Since no one would talk to me, I decided to explore on my own. I wandered from corridor to corridor, room to room, with no real direction.
Until finally, I found this place—a quiet garden, full of colorful flowers and a gentle fountain in the center.
It was beautiful...
But stil....
"There she is!"
A loud shout suddenly rang out behind me. "Don't let her escape!"
I turned around quickly—and what I saw made my blood run cold.
A man wielding a raised sabre appeared not far from me. What made me freeze wasn't the weapon, but his uniform—an 18th or 19th-century-style military outfit, jet black with striking red accents down the center. Atop his head sat a tall shako, complete with a vivid red plume that bobbed with each step he took.
Behind him, a squad of men appeared in rapid formation. They wore nearly identical uniforms and quickly moved into position, forming a long, organized firing line.
Are those... muskets?
In an instant, every man in the line raised his weapon toward me. The row of long barrels pointed straight at my chest made my whole body tense—like I was standing in front of a firing squad, just waiting for the command to shoot.
What the hell is this...?
Is this a dream?
Maybe I fell asleep because that Napoleon movie was so unbearably boring, and now I'm stuck in a dream about being killed by some mysterious creature and trapped in another weird dimension... only to get dumped into another surreal place all over again.
If that's what really happened, I swear when I wake up, I'm suing the director for emotional trauma. I'll demand enough compensation to retire for life.
"But Captain, isn't she just a little girl?" one of the uniformed men asked the one who appeared to be their leader.
He's right. No matter how you look at it, this body I'm in now is literally a little girl's. Isn't pointing that many guns at a helpless kid just a bit... excessive?
"Are you stupid!?" the captain snapped at his subordinate. His fear-stricken eyes locked on me.
"Look at her eyes! Those are the eyes of a man-eater—an Eldirith!"
Ah.
Right. I was a little shocked too the first time I saw my own reflection in the mirror. I've never seen anyone with eyes this intensely red. Although, to be fair, waking up in a girl's body was even more surprising.
...I mean, seriously?
A girl?
"Hey, demon!" the captain shouted at me. "Tell us how you came to our world!"
His voice trembled with fear.
"And where are your allies hiding!?"
"Gentlemen, please calm down," I said casually, raising both hands in the air and waving them gently up and down like a preschool teacher trying to settle a group of sugar-high toddlers.
"I have no idea what you're talking about, but I swear I'm not evil."
No response.
The line of muskets stayed trained on me. The captain even stepped forward, his right hand gripping the hilt of his sabre with absolute resolve. His eyes were locked on mine—full of suspicion, fear, and the kind of readiness that doesn't hesitate.
"I don't have any weapons," I continued. "I'm not carrying anything. I haven't even had breakfast. Are you seriously going to shoot a little girl who hasn't eaten yet?"
The captain didn't budge.
But I did hear whispering from the line behind him. A few of the soldiers exchanged uncertain glances.
"I've seen Eldirith disguise themselves as humans!" the captain barked. "They can mimic voices, faces—even tears! But the one thing they can't imitate... is innocence."
He drew his sabre with a chilling metallic sound.
"And you, girl, are anything but innocent."
I raised an eyebrow.
"Okay, ouch. That was kinda rude."
Sweat began to bead at my temples.
Despite my calm tone, I was fully aware that this negotiation was starting to feel a lot like standing in the middle of a pack of starving tigers… while holding a sign that says "I'm a vegetarian."
"Damn it!" the captain spat with a sneer. "I was a fool to try reasoning with a demon!"
Without another word, he spun on his heel and shouted,
"Grenadiers—ready arms!"
At once, the soldiers raised their muskets back toward me. Some hesitated, their eyes uncertain, but it was clear—they had no choice but to follow orders.
So this is it, huh…?
I've barely woken up in a world I don't even understand—and I'm about to die. Again? Seriously?
My eyes darted around, searching for any way out. But it was hopeless. With this much firepower pointed at me, I wouldn't even make it half a step before being turned into a heap of hot, smoking lead.
And even if, by some miracle, I survived the bullets, they were ready to charge me with bayonets—sharp, cold, and mercilessly designed to pierce flesh like paper.
If I had to choose, I'd rather be shot than stabbed to death over and over like Julius Caesar.
No. No. No.
Was I really going to die here? Just give up?
No. There's always a way—there has to be. I have to try something!
"W-Wait!" I cried out, voice shaking.
"Don't listen to her! Fire—!"
Too late.
The order had been given.
I shut my eyes, I can feel my body stiff as stone, bracing for my second death.
But…
I didn't hear gunfire sound at all and not even feel pain on my body.
Only silence—deep, heavy, and unnatural.
Not even the click of a trigger.
And then—
"Captain, what do you think you're doing?"
A voice—calm, masculine—cut through the silence. My eyes opened slowly, and what I saw wasn't a cloud of musket smoke. Instead, I saw a man dressed in a striking black coat, pointing what looked like a flintlock pistol directly at the back of the captain's head.
The captain's eyes went wide. Clearly, he was really shocked as I was.
"M-My Lord!?" he stammered, voice cracking.
I swallowed. Who is this guy?
I'd never seen him before, but one thing was certain—he wasn't just anyone. The weight of his presence, the cold precision in his eyes—this man wasn't here to play games.
The captain opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came. He looked like a fish gasping for air.
I stared at the man in black, caught between awe and confusion. He looked like he'd walked straight out of a classic action film's climactic moment—so dramatic, I could almost hear background music swelling behind him.
And most importantly…
He just saved me.
Vive la mysterious man in black!
"Captain, I asked you a question."
His tone was calm—but it carried a tension sharp enough to draw blood. The air itself felt stretched tight, like a violin string about to snap. Even the breeze in the garden seemed to freeze mid-motion.
The captain didn't dare move. Sweat dripped from his temples, one slow bead at a time—like a countdown to the end of his career.
"My-my lord… I… I thought she was an Eldirith—"
"And based on unverified suspicion," the man cut in coldly, "you were about to execute an unarmed child—in my manor's garden?"
"Forgive me, My Lord! But she has—"
"—red eyes and black hair?"
His voice sharpened.
"Isn't that also the description of… my daughter?"
Silence dropped like a guillotine.
The grenadiers froze. A few stared at the ground in horror, slowly realizing just how close they'd come to disaster. The captain's sabre lowered shakily. His hand, trembling, wiped sweat from his brow.
"C-Could it really be… Lady Seraphelle…?"
Ah. So that's the name of this body.
The man in black—clearly someone of immense authority, likely nobility, judging by the "My Lord"—slowly lowered his flintlock. He took a step toward me. Each movement was deliberate, steady, and commanding.
But strangely… I didn't feel threatened by him.
We finally stood face to face. I looked at him, and the mysterious man stared back at me without blinking.
He was really tall. I mean, really tall—the kind of tall that made me crane my neck so far back I nearly pulled a muscle just to look at his face.
"I didn't expect you to grow this much," he said flatly. "Considering all you do is sleep."
"...Excuse me, what?"
"But compared to other kids your age, you're still short."
"I… WHAT!?"
I stared at him in disbelief, nearly tempted to throw a shoe at him—if only I wasn't afraid he had another weapon hidden under that his fancy clothes.
"All right, let's go," he said suddenly.
"Ehh—ahh?!"
Without warning, he stepped closer, and before I could step back or protest, his arm wrapped around my waist. In one effortless motion, he lifted me up and placed me on his shoulder—like I was a sack of potatoes, not a living person.
"W-Wait! What are you doing?!"
"For someone who just woke up after seven years of sleep, you're surprisingly energetic," he said casually, as if I wasn't a squirming child flailing on his shoulder.
"Put me down, damn it!"
I kicked, punched his back, struggled—none of it worked. This man was absurdly strong. He kept walking at a relaxed pace, as if I were just a rag doll slumped over his shoulder.
"Be still," he said firmly. "Move too much and you'll fall."
Honestly, he didn't even need to warn me. My energy and spirit to fight were already draining away. Eventually, I just gave up, bouncing slightly with his steps like a powerless rag doll whose batteries had run out.
We passed the line of soldiers, and I could see the confusion plastered across their faces. Even the captain—who had been so eager to shoot me moments ago—stood frozen, not daring to interfere.
"This matter is far from over, Captain," the man said coldly. "Return to the barracks and await the punishment you deserve."
"Y-Yes, sir!"
"And the seven of you," he continued, turning his gaze to the soldiers behind him, "go with him. Make sure he doesn't try to run."
"Yes, My Lord!"
After leaving them behind, the man carried me through a long corridor. Only now did I start noticing the details of the place—solid stone walls, tall windows with heavy curtains, oil lamps hanging evenly along the sides. The architecture... felt 18th century. Or maybe early 19th?
And considering they were using muskets earlier...
Is this really the past? Or another world with stagnant technology?
Am I seriously trapped in some fictional story—like those novels I used to read between teaching session.
I let out a quiet sigh.
Dear God, please let this just be a really weird dream.
The farther we went down the hallway, the more maids began to appear from various directions. Some froze mid-task, others simply stood along the walls and watched with curiosity. This man clearly drew attention wherever he went—but I wasn't the only thing they were staring at.
"Who's that Lord Alexion carrying?" whispered one of the maids.
"You haven't hear it? That's Lady Seraphelle. His own daughter."
"Huh? So the rumors are true!? This is my first time seeing her."
"Shh, not so loud… Honestly, the last time I saw her was seven years ago. But now... she's really grown up, hasn't she? Even though Lord Alexion kept her in the east wing..."
The whispers grew louder. None of them made much effort to hide what they were saying.
Honestly, I didn't care all that much about their chatter. But...
This position I'm in... being carried like this...
This is humiliating.
Utterly, painfully humiliating.
Huh? Wait a second—this man named Alexion is… my father?
Did I hear that right?
But before I could process it any further, Alexion suddenly stopped and turned sharply toward the maids. His gaze was like a drawn blade—cold and piercing—and the maids immediately fell silent.
"Don't you all have work to do?" he asked, voice filled with irritation.
"F-Forgive us, My Lord!"
"Get out of here! Back to your posts! I don't want to see any of you standing around like porcelain dolls!"
Like birds scattered by a sudden storm, the crowd dispersed in a flurry of hurried footsteps echoing in every direction.
Alexion let out a soft scoff and rubbed his temple.
"God… even this manor's starting to feel like a night market," he muttered under his breath before resuming his stride.
"Ouch…"
I started to wonder how much longer I'd have to stay in this position—because the longer it went on, the more uncomfortable my stomach became.
Corridor after corridor passed beneath Alexion's steady pace. I was still slung over his shoulder like an overpriced sack of potatoes, while the sound of his boots echoed against the stone floor with a rhythm far too dignified for such an absurd situation.
I had long since stopped struggling. It was useless. All it did was make my stomach twist and my dignity plummet even further.
"I'm not that weak, you know," I muttered.
"Hm."
"You can put me down now. I promise I won't run away."
"I find that hard to believe—and I'm not convinced you wouldn't get lost."
"You really annoying, you know that?."
"I know."
I could only sigh in frustration.
At last, we entered a corridor wider and brighter than the rest. Large windows lined the right side, flooding the hallway with warm, natural light.
It was there that the shaking finally stopped. My head was still facing backward, so I couldn't immediately see why the man—who I'd now learned was named Alexion—had suddenly come to a halt.
"Look who I found," he said casually before lowering me from his shoulder.
I was now standing on my own feet. But after being carried like a sack of potatoes for so long, my balance was completely off. I nearly stumbled, but Alexion quickly steadied me from behind.
As soon as I was upright, my gaze met the two figures standing in front of me.
The first was a well-dressed man in the attire of a classic butler—black tailcoat and all. When our eyes met, he quickly looked away, but at least he didn't flee like the other servants had. A small improvement, I guess.
But the one who stood out more was the woman beside him.
Her strawberry blonde hair shimmered under the sunlight streaming in from the windows, and her gown flowed elegantly to the floor. But what drew my attention most was how her entire body trembled. Her wide eyes stared at me, as if she couldn't believe what she was seeing.
"...Sera...phelle?"
She knew the name. The name of the body I now inhabited.
So… she must have been someone very close to the original owner of this body.
But if that's true—why does she look like she's about to break just from seeing me?
Her steps were slow. Not away from me, but toward me. And then, to my utter shock—tears began to stream down her face. Not gentle tears—she was crying with everything she had.
And then—
"Ack!"
The woman, who had been walking so carefully, suddenly rushed forward and threw her arms around me in a tight embrace. I had no time to react. My body jolted backward.
"Watch out...!" I yelped in panic.
Thankfully, Alexion somehow moved fast enough to catch both of us before we hit the floor. Now the three of us were sprawled on the ground—and I was still locked in that intense, tear-soaked hug.
"Seraphelle... Seraphelle..." she whispered, her voice cracking.
I didn't know what to say. I couldn't even move—she was holding me so tightly, like she was afraid I'd disappear if she let go.
"...I knew it... I knew you'd wake up, my sweet girl..."
Her chest trembled with each word. I could feel her sobs through the embrace so warm, damp, and heavy with years of buried sorrow.
"You see!?" she suddenly shouted, her voice rising with emotion. "Everyone said my Seraphelle would never wake up. But look at her now!"
She turned, searching for someone to witness the moment with her.
"Aeson, look!" she called, locking eyes with the man in the black suit—so his name was Aeson, apparently.
"I share in your joy, My Lady," Aeson said with a respectful bow, his tone calm, though there was a faint glimmer of relief in his eyes.
"My Lord... My Seraphelle is awake, finally awake," she said again, turning to Alexion now, as if needing him to confirm this wasn't just a dream.
"Ah. Congratulations."
Alexion's reply was short, almost dry—but a faint smile tugged at his lips. Whether it was relief or just awkwardness, I couldn't tell.
As for me... I remained silent.
Caught between the warmth of her arms and their overflowing joy, I felt more like a stuffed doll being hugged too tightly than an actual person.
And honestly...
I had no idea how to respond.