The Duke stared at for a long, uncomfortable mont.
Then finally, he asked, "What do you want in exchange?"
Straight to the point. No wasted breath.
Of course he understood.
He wasn’t stupid. He’d already done the math. In his eyes, I was fated to die anyway.
So, why the hell would I offer to take his son’s place in hell?
Why offer redemption when I had no future to return to?
That must be his thought process.
He had no idea and that made him nervous.
Good.
–
I let the silence hang for a second longer—just enough to make him think I was hesitating.
Then I spoke.
I deliberately kept my voice low as if I was pleading to him rather than requesting.
"My price is simple."
"Support my father in family politics for the next three years."
I was even surprised by how natural my acting seed. I an I wasn’t an actor.
Maybe a hidden effect of my [Poker Face] skill?
The duke’s expression didn’t change.
Of course it didn’t. The Duke didn’t do expressions.
Instead, he leaned back and pretended to consider it.
A classic negotiation move.
Make your opponent think you’re the one holding the cards.
But I wasn’t buying it.
He’d already decided. He just didn’t want to look like he was agreeing with .
Three years of political protection for a suicide mission?
Yeah. He’d take that deal every ti.
_
The silence stretched.
I didn’t blink.
He finally nodded once.
"I accept."
"Good." I gave him a thin smile. "Then let’s sign a soul contract."
Because like hell was I trusting this guy’s word without ink and blood to bind it.
The Duke nodded, resigned. He knew the deal was in his favor. Rejecting it now would just make him look stupid.
He didn’t trust but he trusted the leverage.
Politics made people predictable
His mana spread outward, forming a glowing blue scroll mid-air.
A soul contract.
The classic "you break the deal, you die screaming" variety.
It bound your soul to the terms without any loopholes or second chances.
...Unless you knew a very specific way.
You know, the dangerous ones. The kind only the protagonist would ever try.
Not that anyone else knew about those.
I watched as the terms etched themselves onto the scroll, line by glowing line.
[Terms and Conditions:
→Rael Von Ashborn will voluntarily take the place of Michael Von Astravore for admission to Noxvalen Academy.
→In exchange,Duke Astravore shall not directly or indirectly take any action that would result in the death of Rael Von Ashborn.
→Duke Astravore will also provide political support to Reynold Von Ashborn in the family matters for the next three years
__
It was simple, clean and deadly binding.
Duke Astravore reached out and tapped his finger against the contract. A flash of light shot into his chest. It was the confirmation.
Then he looked at , waiting.
There was just one small problem.
You see, to sign a soul contract, you need to channel your mana into it.
But, I haven’t ford a mana core yet.
So, controlling mana wasn’t possible for .
Luckily, there was another way.
A little more... old-fashioned and a lot more painful.
A blood pact.
It worked in rare cases, but it still needed one thing—consent.
After all, if it didn’t, people would’ve been forcing others to sign soul contracts at knife-point every damn day.
The signature had to be voluntary. Willingly offered. Not just spilled blood—but chosen blood.
I extended my hand toward my mouth.
Yep.
Ti for the Xianxia Protagonist Blood Signature style.
I bit down on my finger, fully expecting to draw blood like they always do in novels.
Nothing.
I tried again.
Still nothing.
Apparently, human instinct doesn’t like the idea of chewing your own fingers off.
Turns out, self-preservation’s a bitch
Duke Astravore raised an eyebrow. I ignored him.
My eyes landed on the fruit bowl in the center of the room.
A knife was resting beside it.
I hesitated just for a second as I felt a tiny tremble in my fingers. It was barely noticeable but there.
It wasn’t fear of the contract.
It was him.
The Duke’s presence. That bastard was constantly oozing a dangerous amount of aura passively.
Hell, it was a miracle I wasn’t already on my knees.
So yeah... a little shake was expected.
I needed this deal to hold.
So, I walked over casually, picked it up and sliced the blade across my index finger. Just enough for a sting and a slow bead of blood to rise.
I pressed my thumb into the blood and reached out.
The mont my thumb touched the glowing contract, the magic surged.
A bolt of light shot out and slamd into my chest.
I gasped.
For a second, I felt like sothing inside had been chained and locked.
It wasn’t just symbolism.
That was my soul, officially shackled to the deal.
I wouldn’t say it was a pleasant feeling.
The contract burned away in a soft blue fla.
A deal sealed in blood, soul and desperation.
Duke Astravore gave a final look. Cold and unreadable.
Then he stood up.
"Prepare yourself," he said quietly. "The students will depart in a month."
I didn’t answer. Just nodded.
A month. That’s all I had.
But I wasn’t afraid or even nervous.
The reason? I got exactly what I wanted.
Entry into Noxvalen academy or more popularly known as Demon academy.
The place where the real story begins.
And more importantly...
The place where the Forest of Unmasked is located.
Astravore walked past , the mana barrier around the room vanishing as the door clicked shut behind him.
Only to open again a mont later.
My father stepped in, his eyes sharp with concern—searching for injuries or maybe sothing deeper.
But I just smiled at him.
Because it was done.
I’d survived the first death flag.
By walking straight into the next one.
__
Author’s Note:
So yeah... he survived.
By selling his soul and walking straight into hell.
Classic Rael move.
Drop a comnt, toss a power stone and pray he doesn’t die soon.
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