The white light slowly faded away into a deep, empty darkness. Camilla felt like she was floating in the middle of nowhere. Her body felt light, like a feather in the wind. Then, a voice echoed inside her head. It was a clear voice. It did not sound like a man or a woman.
"Welcome to the novel: Lady Camilla's Tyrant General," the voice said.
Camilla frowned in the darkness. Her mind was fuzzy. "Who is speaking?" she thought.
The voice continued to echo in her mind. "Since you left a very confident comment, and since you believe you can do a better job than the author, she has given you a special opportunity. You are here to prove yourself. Your mission is simple. You are to finish this novel properly. If you do not finish the story, or if you fail, you will be stuck in this novel forever. Till we meet at the end of the novel. Good luck."
The voice clicked and went completely silent.
Camilla felt a sudden, sharp pain in her chest. She gasped for air. Her eyes flew open.
"What?" she said out loud. Her voice was raspy and dry. She coughed heavily, spitting out dirty, cold water.
She quickly looked around. She expected to see her beautiful swimming pool and her comfortable balloon raft. She expected to see the glass doors of her modern house. But she was not in her pool. She was sitting on the hard, cold ground.
She looked to her left. Right beside her was a large, round well made of gray stones. Green moss grew all over the stones. The water she had just spit out tasted like mud and old leaves. She looked down at herself. She was not wearing her dark blue swimsuit anymore. She was wearing a heavy, wet dress. It was pale pink and covered in mud. It stuck tightly to her skin. She was completely soaked.
Before she could process what was happening, loud voices surrounded her.
"My Lady! Oh, thank the heavens! She is breathing!" a high-pitched voice cried out.
Camilla turned her head. Three young women were kneeling on the wet grass around her. They were wearing simple brown dresses and white aprons. They looked like maids from an old historical movie. Their faces were pale. Their eyes were wide with fear.
"My Lady! Are you alright?" the first maid asked. She reached out her shaking hands and grabbed Camilla's cold, wet arm.
Camilla stared at the maid's hands. As a professional assassin, her first instinct was to twist the girl's wrist and break it. But her body felt incredibly weak. Her arms felt like they were made of heavy lead. She could barely move her fingers.
"Stop yelling," Camilla whispered. She closed her eyes for a second. "My head is ringing."
The second maid wiped her nose with her apron. She leaned closer. "The doctor is on his way, My Lady! Please hold on. Please do not close your eyes again!"
"Why are you crying so much?" Camilla mumbled. She tried to push herself up off the wet ground, but her arms gave out. She fell back down against the hard stones of the well. This body was useless. It had no muscles. It had no strength.
Suddenly, the sound of heavy boots hit the ground. A fourth maid came running toward the well. She was pointing a finger at Camilla.
"Over here! She is over here!" the fourth maid shouted.
Right behind her was a tall, broad man. He wore a silver chest plate and carried a long sword on his belt. He was a guard. He had dark hair and a very serious expression on his face. He pushed past the crying maids.
"Move away," the guard ordered in a deep, rough voice.
The maids quickly scattered like frightened birds. They stepped back, twisting their aprons with their hands.
The guard knelt beside Camilla. He did not ask for permission. He just slid one thick arm under her knees and the other arm behind her back. With one easy movement, he lifted her off the cold ground.
Camilla was pressed against his metal armor. It was cold and hard. She looked up at his chin. "Put me down," she tried to say, but the words barely came out of her mouth.
The guard did not look down at her. He just started walking very fast toward a huge stone building in the distance.
Everything around Camilla started to spin. The green trees blurred together. The voices of the crying maids faded into the background. Her brain felt like it was wrapped in thick cotton.
"This is a dream," Camilla told herself inside her mind. "Yes. That makes perfect sense. I fell asleep in my swimming pool. The sun was too hot. Winston cat is probably sleeping nearby. This is just a very strange, very detailed dream. The lightning strike was just a dream too."
She rested her heavy head against the guard's cold metal shoulder. She closed her eyes.
"If I sleep, I will wake up," she thought. "When I wake up, everything will be fine. I will be back in my own house. I will delete that stupid Webnovel app."
Her breathing slowed down. The dark, comfortable void returned. She completely blacked out in the guard's arms.
Several hours later, Camilla felt a soft warmth on her face.
She wiggled her toes. They were touching very soft, silk sheets. She felt a thick, heavy blanket covering her body. It was very comfortable.
She took a deep breath. She stretched her arms above her head and let out a long, loud yawn. She felt rested. The headache was completely gone.
She kept her eyes closed and smiled a little bit.
"I better start packing for the Maldives," she said out loud to the empty room. Her voice was cheerful. She thought about her bank accounts full of money. She thought about the handsome men waiting to serve her cold drinks on the beach. She needed to buy a new sun hat before her flight tomorrow.
She slowly opened her eyes, ready to look at the familiar white ceiling of her bedroom.
Instead, she saw a piece of dark red cloth hanging right above her face.
She blinked twice. The cloth did not disappear. She turned her head slightly to the left.
There was no flat-screen television. There was no glass coffee table. There was no modern air conditioner humming in the corner.
Instead, she saw a large wooden door. She saw thick, heavy curtains blocking out the sunlight. She saw strange, old paintings of people riding horses on the stone walls. She was lying in a giant, old-fashioned wooden bed with tall posts at each corner.
She sat up very quickly. She pulled the thick blanket up to her chest. She looked down at herself. She was wearing a long, white, scratchy nightgown. It went all the way up to her neck and all the way down to her wrists. She looked at her hands. They were pale, thin, and completely soft. There were no calluses on her fingers from holding weapons.
"Wait a minute," Camilla whispered. Her heart started to beat a little faster. She looked around again. "Something is very, very wrong here."
Just then, the heavy wooden door slowly opened. It made a loud creaking sound.
A young girl walked into the room. It was one of the maids from the well. She was holding a large silver bowl filled with warm water. A clean white towel was resting on her shoulder. The maid looked down at the floor as she walked. She seemed very nervous.
She walked to the side of the bed and carefully placed the silver bowl on a small wooden table. She finally looked up. When she saw Camilla sitting up, her eyes grew wide.
"Oh!" the maid gasped. She quickly bowed her head. "Are you alright, My Lady? The doctor said you needed to rest for three days. You swallowed so much dirty water."
Camilla stared at the top of the maid's head. She remembered the voice in the dark void. Welcome to the novel. She remembered the comments she typed. If you cannot finish a story… I am sure I can do a better job. Camilla tilted her head. She looked at the young, nervous girl in the brown dress.
"Your Lady?" Camilla asked. Her voice was flat and serious.