As Joo Sang-uk's hands danced through the air, the mystical energy swirled around him. The water balls he conjured floated above the pool, rippling with an otherworldly power. The king's eyes widened as he peered into the water, his curiosity getting the better of him. Suddenly, the alchemist's hands rose higher, and a burst of flame erupted from the ground, shooting flames high into the air. The king stumbled back, his eyes fixed on the inferno.
As the king's soul inhabited Joo Sang-uk's body, a radiant smile spread across his face. He stretched his new limbs, marveling at the restored vitality. The once-bedridden monarch now walked with purpose, his eyes gleaming with renewed vigor. In contrast, Joo Sang-uk's soul, now trapped in the king's frail body, gazed out with a mix of calculation and acceptance, aware of the drastic turn of events. The palace's grandeur seemed to mock him, a stark reminder of the new roles they would play.
The king, now in Joo Sang-uk's body, approached the young woman with a charming smile, playing the part of the devoted husband. His eyes gleamed with excitement as she welcomed him with open arms, unaware of the switch. "Welcome home, my love," she said, her voice filled with warmth. The king's smile grew wider as he wrapped his arms around her, savoring the moment. "I've missed you," he whispered, his voice laced with a mixture of desire and manipulation. The young woman's innocence was palpable, and the king reveled in the knowledge that he could now claim everything Joo Sang-uk once had and have an heir to his throne as well.
Joo Sang-uk's eyes widened in horror as he gazed at his reflection. The king's frail, aged face stared back, its sunken eyes and pale skin a stark contrast to his own robust physique. He struggled to reconcile the unfamiliar body with his own sense of self. The mirror slipped from his grasp, and he stumbled backward, collapsing onto the bed. "*No...this can't be...*" he whispered, his voice shaking with desperation. The reality of his situation crashed down on him like a tidal wave. He was trapped in the king's weak body, and his own life was now in the hands of...himself. The thought sent a chill down his spine.
"Do-hwa!" he screamed inwardly, heart pounding.
Meanwhile, the king stood before Do-hwa, gazing into her eyes. "You are beautiful," he whispered, voice trembling with both admiration and desperation. "Truly beautiful."
He reached out and gently guided her closer, the weight of his duty heavy on his shoulders. That night, the king sought not only affection but also an heir — a future for his kingdom.
The torches in the king's chamber flickered, casting restless shadows across the marble floor. Joo Sang-uk stood motionless, his heart pounding like war drums in his chest. Words trembled on his tongue, but to speak them felt as though lifting mountains—each syllable a burden too heavy to bear.
"No… no! That cannot happen!" he rasped, his voice cracking under the weight of dread. He staggered forward, desperate to reach the door, to find his wife, to halt the calamity before it took form.
But his legs betrayed him. Weak and trembling, they buckled beneath his will. He fell hard against the cold stone, his breath shallow, his vision blurring into shards of light and shadow.
Blood spilled from his lips, dark as the night that awaited him. Still, he forced out the words that burned in his chest.
"That cannot happen… no…" Joo sang-uk died.