The sky over the Imperial Capital was a bruised purple, the color of a fading crush. For Elena von Malice, it was the last thing she would ever see.
She knelt on the rough wooden planks of the execution platform, her hands bound behind her back with magic-suppressing shackles. The crowd below—the same people she had fed during the Great Famine—were throwing rotted vegetables and screaming for her head.
"Traitor!" they shrieked. "Poisoner! Die for the Saintess!"
Elena's long, raven-black hair hung in matted clumps over her face. She didn't look at the crowd. She looked at the royal balcony.
There sat Crown Prince Alaric, the man she had loved for seven years. Beside him sat her younger sister, Sarah, who was dabbing at her eyes with a lace handkerchief. To the world, Sarah was the grieving Saintess whose life Elena had tried to steal. Only Elena knew the truth: Sarah had poisoned herself just enough to frame Elena, and Alaric had known it all along. He just needed an excuse to replace the "Dull Duke's Daughter" with the "Holy Saintess."
"Elena von Malice," Alaric's voice boomed, cold and devoid of the warmth he used to fake. "By the authority of the Sun Throne, you are sentenced to death. Do you have any final words before the blade falls?"
Elena raised her head. Her eyes, once filled with devotion, were now twin craters of cold obsidian.
"I have no words for a man who builds his throne on the bones of his most loyal ally," she said, her voice raspy but steady. "But I have a promise. If there is a hell, I will wait for you there. If there is a life after this, I will come for you first."
Alaric's jaw tightened. "Executioner. Proceed."
The heavy iron blade of the guillotine was released. It slid down the grease-slicked tracks with a terrifying shhhhhh sound. Elena closed her eyes. She felt the sudden, sharp rush of air.
Ping.
A sound, sharp and digital, echoed in her brain. It was a sound that didn't belong in a world of swords and sorcery.
[SYSTEM OVERLOAD DETECTED]
[Condition Met: Host has reached 'Total Life Failure']
[Calculating Karma... Error. User 'Elena' is a 'Legacy Asset']
[Initializing Developer Menu... Overclocking Reality...]
The world froze.
The blade stopped an inch from her neck. The screaming of the crowd turned into a low, distorted hum. The raindrops falling from the sky hung in the air like static glass beads.
Elena looked up, but she didn't move her body—she moved her consciousness. In front of her eyes, a translucent, blood-red window flickered.
> [HIDDEN COMMAND FOUND: TIME REGRESSION]
> [Do you wish to rewind the clock? Y/N]
>
Yes, Elena screamed in her mind. Yes! A thousand times yes!
[Executing... Year 442 Selected.]
[Passive Skill Unlocked: 100x Speed (Overclock)]
[Good luck, Player. Don't get patched.]
Elena gasped, her lungs burning as if she had just surfaced from deep water. She sat bolt upright, her hands flying to her neck. It was smooth. No cold steel. No blood.
She was in her bedroom at the Malice Ducal Estate. The morning sun was streaming through the curtains, highlighting the dust motes dancing in the air.
"I'm... alive?" she whispered.
She looked at her hands. They were smaller, softer, without the scars she had earned from years of fighting the Prince's wars. She was eighteen again. This was the year she was supposed to get engaged.
Knock. Knock.
The sound of the door made Elena's blood run cold.
"Sister? Are you still sleeping? You're so lazy!"
The door swung open, and Sarah stepped in. She looked exactly as Elena remembered—a vision of innocence in a white chiffon dress, her blonde hair curled to perfection. In her hands, she carried a heavy porcelain pitcher of ice-cold water.
"Father says since you can't even wake up on time, you aren't fit to attend the Imperial Ball tonight," Sarah said, a cruel glit in her eyes that she only showed when they were alone. "Here, let me help you wake up!"
In her previous life, Elena had been too slow. Sarah had drenched her, ruined her only silk gown, and Elena had been forced to stay home while Sarah charmed the Prince at the ball.
Sarah tilted the pitcher. The water began to pour.
Overclock, Elena thought, the name of the skill naturally surfacing in her mind.
[100x SPEED ACTIVATED]
[Stamina: 100/100]
The world turned grey. The water leaving the pitcher stopped mid-air, forming a frozen arc of crystalline liquid. Sarah's face was locked in a hideous, triumphant sneer, her movements so slow she looked like a statue.
Elena felt a strange, electric hum in her veins. She felt light—so light that the air felt like thick syrup she could push through.
She stood up from the bed. To her, she was moving normally. To Sarah, she would be a ghost.
Elena calmly walked around the frozen arc of water. She stood in front of her sister. Looking at Sarah's face, Elena felt no sadness—only a cold, clinical curiosity. She took the pitcher out of Sarah's hands. It was heavy, but with her increased speed, the weight felt negligible.
She turned the pitcher around and held it directly over Sarah's head. Then, she reached out and gave Sarah a sharp, stinging slap across her left cheek.
Deactivate.
[100x SPEED DEACTIVATED]
[Stamina: 95/100]
SPLASH!
SLAP!
The room was suddenly filled with the sound of chaos. Sarah shrieked as the ice-cold water drenched her from head to toe, her expensive curls collapsing into wet strings. The force of the slap—accelerated by the speed of the overclock—sent her spinning. She hit the floor with a wet thud, the porcelain pitcher shattering beside her.
"AHHHHH! MY FACE! MY DRESS!" Sarah screamed, clutching her cheek which was rapidly turning a dark, angry purple. She looked up, shivering and gasping. "You... Elena? How... I didn't see you move!"
Elena sat back down on the edge of her bed, crossing her legs elegantly. She didn't have a weapon, but the way she looked at Sarah was sharper than any blade.
"You should be more careful, Sarah," Elena said, her voice cool and melodic. "You're so clumsy, you nearly tripped and poured that water on yourself. Oh wait... you did."
"You hit me!" Sarah hissed, her 'Saintess' mask completely slipping. "I'll tell Father! I'll tell him you attacked me! He'll have you thrown in the dungeon!"
"Go ahead," Elena said, leaning forward. "But remember, Sarah—the Duke values strength. If his 'precious' Saintess can't even handle a single slap from her 'lazy' sister, he might start wondering if you're worth the investment at all."
Sarah flinched. The Duke of Malice was a man who only cared about power.
Suddenly, a blue window appeared in Elena's vision, blocking out her sister's trembling form.
> [QUEST COMPLETED: THE FIRST REVENGE]
> [Experience Gained: 500 XP]
> [Level Up! Level 1 → Level 5]
> [Stat Points Awarded: 10]
> [New Skill Unlocked: 1-Second Perception]
>
Elena felt a rush of power surge through her heart. Her vision became clearer, her muscles more defined. In her last life, it had taken her three years of grueling military service to reach Level 5.
Now, it had taken her one second.
"Get out," Elena commanded.
"You'll pay for this!" Sarah scrambled to her feet, slipping on the wet floor before finally fleeing the room in tears.
Elena ignored her. She looked at her hands again. The 100x speed was just the beginning. The world thought she was a villainess destined for the block? Fine. She would play the part. But this time, she wouldn't be the one losing her head.
She had three years to level up. Three years to dismantle an empire.
"Alaric," she whispered to the empty room. "I told you I'd be your nightmare. I'm ahead of schedule."
She looked out the window. The Imperial Ball was tonight. The night she was supposed to be "hidden" away while her sister stole her fiancé.
Elena stood up and walked to her wardrobe. She didn't pick the modest, dull dress her father had bought her. She reached for the back of the closet, pulling out a gown of midnight silk she had bought with her own savings—a dress meant for a queen, not a victim.
"Time to start the speedrun," she said.