Curiosity killed the cat.
A saying most people used to describe a certain kind of scenario—one where sothing obviously suspicious was better left untouched.
The logical answer was always to ignore it, walk away, or at the very least, observe from a safe distance.
But ? No, of course not. That would be too easy.
"…This'll definitely get in trouble,"
I mumbled under my breath, fingers brushing across the surface of the thick wooden table before .
It felt real—solid, sturdy—but too perfect.
Too deliberate.
Out here, in the middle of an endless adow filled with wildflowers and sunlight, this pristine white table stood out like a single nail in the center of a glass floor.
I sighed.
If there was anything I'd learned by now, it was that nothing was ever placed in front of without reason.
The ornate cups.
The freshly poured tea.
The empty seat across from mine.
Soone—or sothing—was expecting .
And now, with everything else laid bare, I could finally begin to piece it together.
Why I'd been trained so ticulously by those three masked weirdos.
Why I'd been dressed like I was about to walk into a political dinner hosted by royalty.
It wasn't just for show.
This was all preparation.
This atmosphere—its gentle warmth, the subtle hum beneath the soil, the light that wrapped around not just like sunlight but like presence.
There was divinity here. Faint and deceptively gentle, like it was trying not to draw attention to itself.
But I could feel it, cloaked in golden comfort yet unmistakably vast… ancient… cold beneath the surface.
This place—it was Erebil's domain.
Or at least, her version of it.
Shaped and crafted to look like an idyllic sunny field, as if to match sothing I might be familiar with… sothing that would ease the tension of what was to co.
A formal greeting….
That's what this place probably was.
And judging from the teacups… she intended this to be cordial.
My eyes narrowed slightly.
Thinking back now, the training I received made more sense than ever.
The way Miss Red taught table etiquette with almost motherly grace, how the masked man—Black Giraffe—pushed on every micro-movent until I could sit, walk, and speak with seamless poise.
And the child… she had trained to control my presence, my aura—so I probably wouldn't explode in her presence….
Though I doubt that would happen considering her fondness of it still wasn't off the table in the realm of possibilities.
Though with this type of setting… it feels like those three were just preparing for a date…
A part of wanted to scoff at that idea… but rembering how obsessed he was with teaching how to hold a lady's hand properly at dinner, how to offer a seat, how to respond with elegance but confidence…
Yeah.
This was truly a set-up.
Though I wasn't sure how much of that so-called training would actually translate in a place like this—a wide, open, sunlit field that stretched endlessly in every direction—it still echoed in the back of my mind.
The kind of presence I was supposed to carry.
The grace in my posture.
The way to handle a teacup without looking like I was about to smash it by accident.
But let's be honest.
This wasn't the formal dinner hall setting they drilled into .
The large, parasol-like umbrella stretched overhead provided a generous shade that gently softened the golden rays of the sun, casting a comfortable glow over the table.
It was nice, sure—pleasant even—but far from what I'd been trained for.
This wasn't a candle-lit ballroom, nor a polished chamber brimming with tension and politics.
It was… cozy and serene.
That, in itself, made it even more suspicious.
And if those three really had been preparing to et Erebil… couldn't they have just told straight to my face?
Would that have been so hard?
I sighed, dragging a hand down my face as I leaned lightly against the table.
Thinking too hard about their motives only sent into more confusion.
For every answer I managed to grasp, five more questions blood.
Their cryptic riddles, casual avoidance of explanation, and whimsical treatnt of ti made it impossible to know anything for sure.
And there was even that….
"Han…."
They knew my na.
I never thought I'd hear that na again after the trials.
Them knowing my na shouldn't be a plausible….
They weren't gods—not exactly.
Not in the way Erebil was.
But they weren't normal beings either.
But considering how little I truly known about the world anything was probably possible at this point…
My hand moved slowly to my chest.
There was no longer that slight ache or flicker I'd grown used to feeling since my battle with the White Queen.
My soul—it was whole now. Fully repaired. Balanced.
And that, suddenly, made everything click.
Now that I was fixed, completely… I could finally face her.
A part of wondered if she'd ordered those three masked figures to train , but judging by their behavior, their snide remarks, and the way they seed almost gleeful about doing sothing behind her back… I highly doubted it.
They said it was out of curiosity. That they simply wanted to et . Help and see who I really was.
And considering how casually they acted, how unafraid they were about hiding sothing from Erebil, it was clear—they weren't just confident.
They believed, with absolute certainty, that they could get away with it.
"Hmm~ you arrived earlier than I thought…"
"?????"
"…And here I was wondering why I couldn't feel your soul. Did you manage to stumble upon the little doorway I tucked into it~?"
I turned.
There she was.
No longer the shadowy silhouette wrapped in intangible dark mist like the first ti.
No—this ti, she stood in the flesh.
Or rather, in sothing that probably mimicked it.
Erebil.
A woman of haunting, almost surreal beauty, as if soone had taken the essence of midnight and wove it into human form.
Her obsidian hair flowed like liquid ink down her shoulders, catching the light in ways
it shouldn't have—unnatural, too smooth, too perfect.
The gentle breeze teased it at the edges, framing her face with a softness that contrasted the power she radiated.
Her crimson eyes locked onto mine, sharp and unreadable, but glittering with amusent—and sothing more.
Hunger.
Predatory interest.
A foxlike tilt in her gaze gave her an air of sly curiosity, as if she were sizing up, wondering just how much I was worth… and how quickly she could devour .
A single beauty mark beneath her left eye stood out.
Every detail about her felt constructed to seduce.
To make one kneel without a word spoken.
And yet… I stood.
Barely.
Though it felt like a stranger had suddenly appeared in front of , my soul knew who this was.
The system's sudden influx of warnings only confird what my instincts were already screaming:
[Note: You are in the presence of a Divine Being.]
[Darkness Swells within your soul!]
[Note: Primordial Evil and Darkness is masking your light!]
[Note: All divine based skills are now locked!]
[Note: Foreign divinity within the user's soul matches resonance signature: Erebil.]
[Note: User's divine resistance has been activated. Soul Aura stabilized.]
[Note: Warning!!! It is strongly advised to exit the soul dinsion imdiately!!!]
[Note: Laws of causality have taken your side. Your soul has gained favor. Divine presence acknowledged. Your divinity has temporarily increased.]
I didn't really need the notifications.
I could feel it in my bones, in the way the wind paused between her footsteps, in the way the sunlight behind her seed to dim slightly—as if even the sky didn't want to challenge her presence.
Even now, the grassy adow, with its illusion of peace, bent to her existence.
As if the entire domain had been painted over by her influence.
The system is sowhat implying of resisting her divine presence but... why can't I properly move?
And her form it was a form I never saw in the ga... I was aware she had a sowhat human form based on her silhouette but... this was much too human...
I swallowed once, instinctively straightening my posture.
Erebil watched with a quiet, unreadable expression—half-smile, half-smirk.
"So, your ascension's improved your perception, hasn't it? Not many manage to locate a hidden soul-door so soon… How curious~"
Her crimson gaze narrowed slightly.
"Tell , little fla… just how much of that divinity are you aware of now?"
Even if I wasn't sure how to answer, one thing was certain.
The woman in front of was no longer just so voice in the void.
She was real.
Her right hand moved with the kind of fluid grace that only beings beyond mortality possessed—soft, deliberate, confident.
With a gentleness that felt out of place given the weight of her presence, she cupped my right cheek, her cool fingertips brushing against my skin like silk dipped in snow.
Then, her lips curled—not into the amused smirk of a playful stranger, but into sothing far more dangerous.
Capricious. Seductive and Powerful.
"A man of elegance must always take the lead."
The masked man's words echoed in my head, almost mockingly now.
And yet here I was—my soul barely holding together under the weight of hers, and my body reacting more like a stunned student than the "proper gentleman" I'd been trained to be.
"You've dressed quite properly for the occasion,"
She whispered, her voice laced with sothing like curiosity… or was it hunger?
"Tell —did soone give you a little advice? A whisper in your ear? Perhaps a certain… masked gentleman~?"
I froze.
So she's aware?
"Well~" she purred, brushing past as her long fingers trailed from my cheek, "whatever the case… Let's sit down first, shall we? We don't have long before my presence starts breaking your soul apart."
Without waiting for consent, she took my hand in hers—firm, yet delicate—and guided toward the table.
With a simple, almost lazy motion, she directed into the chair opposite hers.
I sat, or rather, was made to sit.
She moved like gravity itself bent around her—like even my body answered to her unspoken commands.
Haha… fuck.
All that training, all that etiquette, all the drills and preparation—for absolutely nothing…
I felt like I'd been dragged into the deep end by a smile and a single brush of her hand.
As I adjusted myself in the chair, trying to regain any sense of composure, she crossed her legs and leaned back into her seat with the elegance of a queen who knew she owned the room.
"Before we begin," she said, tilting her head slightly, "what do you think of this form I've chosen? Do you like it?"
Hmm?
"… I don't think my opinion—"
"Do. You. Like it?"
"…Yes...?"
She smiled—genuinely this ti, as if that single word had been a gift.
A piece of praise she'd been waiting for.
"Good~" she murmured, sitting back fully now, her crimson gaze never leaving mine. "Now then… let's get to the real fun."
She leaned in ever so slightly, her voice low and smooth.
"What secrets about my sister have you brought , little light~?"
[Note: Presence of Divine Light is waiting patiently within your soul!]
[Soul Corridor access is now open—User may permit connection!]
[Incoming ssage: Divine Light wishes to enter!]
[MY CHILD, LET IN!]
[DON'T TELL HER ANYTHING, PLEASE!!!]
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