I was cold. My hands were moving—I could feel it—but I couldn’t see anything. The ground beneath me was uncomfortable, rigid… rock? Yes, definitely rock. Hard, rough, with tiny points that dug into my back as if judging me for lying there.

  My vision… was strange. Everything was covered in mana. Not just in front of me, but all around, enveloping every corner of this place. It sounded familiar, as if some part of me already knew it. But… why?

  Where the hell am I?

  My body ached. I tried to sit up, but I couldn’t even lift myself a little before a stab of pain shot through every fiber of my being, as if Eleanor had grabbed me like a punching bag and delivered her best blows.

  "Don't try to get up, or it will hurt more."

  Eh?

  Is anyone else here?

  I tried turning my head in every direction, but even my neck protested with excruciating pain.

  "Who…?"

  "Don't speak either."

  Well, at least I tried.

  Even my vocal cords are screwed? What the hell happened to me? Normally, when I get hit, waiting a few seconds is enough for everything to return to normal. But now… no. I have no mana. Damn.

  The voice was feminine. It wasn’t Eleanor. This voice was different. Its tone… I can’t quite explain it, but it gave me a strange feeling—something between familiarity and a nostalgia for something I’d never experienced.

  I couldn’t see her. Everything was dark. Yet, she seemed to be stirring something.

  She came closer and extended her hand, holding what looked like a bowl.

  "Drink this, it will help with the pain."

  She pressed the rim of the bowl against my lips.

  Something inside the liquid was moving. Should I drink it?

  Before I could decide, she pressed the bowl even more firmly against my lips.

  "Just drink it."

  Damn, so insistent.

  I opened my mouth and let the liquid slide down my throat. Bitter. Stronger than coffee.

  Then her hand began to glow with a faint red light. A small ball of fire appeared in her palm—enough to illuminate our surroundings.

  Ah… back in a cave again. How the hell did I end up here? Did that light save me? Impossible.

  "An unknown light saves the leader of the Four Souls of Prósopon." Ha. What a damn joke. Not even if I were paid would I believe it. Lights don’t have that kind of power, do they?

  ...

  Now I could see her face. Beautiful. Blonde hair cascading softly over her shoulders, reflecting the firelight in gentle golden flashes. She shifted slightly to search for something, and when she turned back around, I found myself gazing into her eyes.

  Purple eyes, like lavender in full bloom.

  Damn. Why am I blushing?

  "Is something wrong?"

  "Eh? No, not at all."

  I looked away without even realizing it.

  Damn, she really is beautiful. I turned back to watch her.

  I could stare at her all day.

  "Hey… what’s up with your eyes? Wait, I think I have a remedy for that," she said, a little excited as she began rummaging for something behind her.

  "What? No, it’s not necessary. It’s not a disease, it’s a skill," I replied quickly before she pulled out something useless to "cure" me.

  Well… I guess having lifeless eyes with no pupils isn’t exactly a skill… But let’s call it that for now.

  Finally, I sat up. The pain was slowly fading away, as if the wind were carrying it off. That liquid... it was definitely working.

  I glanced around. The woman who had helped me was no longer paying attention. Well, I suppose that’s a good sign... or maybe she just doesn’t care. Either way.

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  I scanned the cave. It was dark, cold, and had an atmosphere that was somewhat... menacing? And in the background, among the shadows, something made me blink a couple of times.

  Was that a scythe?

  Yes, it definitely was a scythe.

  That looks dangerous.

  Really dangerous.

  I took a deep breath and looked back at the woman. She didn’t seem hostile, but you never know.

  "Who are you?" I asked firmly, even though inside I was as confused as a cat seeing its reflection for the first time.

  The woman opened her mouth... and nothing. Not a single sound. She looked up at me with a strange expression, as if caught in some inner dilemma.

  I said nothing. I waited. And finally, she spoke.

  "My name is Charlotta. Charlotta Rousgard. And... well... I think this is going to sound strange, but... I am your wife."

  My thoughts came to an abrupt halt.

  "What?"

  "Wife." I knew that word. I knew what it meant. I’d heard it before, but... I can’t recall in what context.

  "My wife?"

  "Yes, that's it."

  "Wait. I don’t even know you."

  "And I don’t know you either," she replied coldly. "It’s not something I like at all, but it’s something I have to accept."

  "And how exactly do you know you’re my wife?"

  My confusion grew. I mean, for a girl to just say "I'm your wife" out of the blue is like someone handing you a baby and saying, "Congratulations, it’s yours." It’s just hard to process so quickly.

  "It was your master," she said with a sigh. "He told me. He said that was my destiny. That I was meant to marry you... because that was my promise."

  There was something in her voice—a slight tremor, a lack of conviction. She wasn’t lying, but she didn’t seem sure of her own words either.

  "Your promise?"

  "I know it sounds stupid. This is the first time we’ve spoken, and it’s impossible for him to have promised you anything. But... your master wasn’t an ordinary man. So, even though I dislike it, I have to trust his words."

  I fell silent.

  I mean... it might have been easy to say, "Oh, well, then let’s just accept it," but no. Having a wife isn’t something to take lightly.

  There’s a saying that goes, "A flower that grows in the shade never gets to shine."

  The same applies here.

  If it’s a forced relationship, without love, then it won’t flourish. Or at least, that’s what I think.

  I sighed.

  "It's going to take me a while to process this... I’ll put it aside for now. There’s something else that worries me. How did you end up here? There doesn’t seem to be an exit."

  Charlotta looked at me intently, her brow furrowing slightly.

  "How did you figure out there’s no exit? I never mentioned anything about it."

  "Oh, right. I didn’t mention it, did I? My eyes can see the flow of mana in people and in everything, really. I can even tell if someone’s mana is human or demonic. But in exchange... my eyes lose their pupils and any trace of life."

  She tilted her head.

  Yes, I’d be confused too. Explaining this without sounding like a lunatic is complicated.

  "And thanks to being able to see the flow of mana in everything... I realized that the entire cave is covered in a strange kind of mana."

  I frowned.

  "What is this place?"

  Charlotta crossed her arms, looking pensive.

  "So how can you see?"

  "…"

  "…"

  We fell silent.

  How I can see...

  Well, honestly, I hadn't thought about it. I just see. Don't judge me, okay? It's not as if I've read a treatise on human anatomy before going to war. I don't even know exactly how sight works in normal people, so I'm even less likely to understand my own.

  "Well... I see the flow of everything. I just see, plain and simple. I can perceive the complete flow of mana in people, which basically encompasses everything—their physical, mental, and spiritual form."

  Charlotta looked at me even more confused. Her expression was that of someone trying to solve a puzzle, but the pieces just didn’t fit.

  Finally, she shook her head and furrowed her brow.

  "Wait. Are you telling me that you see nothing, yet at the same time you can see my physical form, my mana flow, and my spirituality?"

  ...Well, said like that, even I sound like a lunatic.

  "It's hard to explain," I huffed. "These eyes are... almost like a curse. I can see like a normal person, but I also see the flows of mana, the mana dispersed throughout the environment, and people's spiritual essence. It's as if my vision has multiple layers, and I can choose which one to perceive at any moment."

  I folded my arms, but my body ached, so I simply dropped them and sighed.

  "Thanks to these eyes, I've found the weakness of many enemies. But they also bring me trouble... There are places where the mana flows are so dense, so chaotic, that they end up causing a stabbing pain in my head."

  Charlotta fell silent for a moment, then nodded slightly.

  "I understand..."

  Did she really understand? Because I certainly didn’t.

  "So then? How do we get out of here?" I asked, crossing my arms.

  Talking about my eyes is... uncomfortable. It's not a topic I can bring up lightly—especially considering how I got them.

  Charlotta didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she turned without a word and walked straight to the scythe leaning against the wall. She took it with both hands... and then the scythe vanished.

  I blinked several times, perplexed.

  That magic... seems familiar to me. I know of storage abilities—the kind where you open a small hole in nothingness and store things in an invisible space. But this is different. There was no portal, no crack, nothing. It was as if the object simply vanished from reality itself.

  It was reminiscent of the technique of...

  "Whose?"

  ...I can't remember.

  "I don't know. I've been here for over a thousand years," she said suddenly.

  "A thousand years?" I repeated without thinking, as if my thoughts had taken control of my mouth.

  Charlotta nodded.

  "Yes..."

  "Are you immortal? Like me?"

  "What? No."

  ...Then, what the hell?

  I tilted my head, and before I knew it, a little cloud with a question mark floated above me, formed by magic.

  Charlotta sighed.

  "This place... as you saw, contains a vast amount of mana. That mana stops time at an atomic level, which means I don't age, I don't feel hunger or thirst... and I can't be destroyed either."

  That sounded dangerous. Extremely dangerous.

  "This was created..." I began to say, but Charlotta interrupted me before I could finish.

  "By your master."

  Interrupting someone while they're talking is rude. Kids, don't do that.

  "Is that why the mana here is so unusual?"

  Yes, it was unusual. Very unusual. Mana normally has a greenish hue, similar to that of a caterpillar. But in this cave... it was white. White and brilliant.

  It gave me a strange feeling. Something I couldn't quite describe.

  It was...

  It was something nostalgic.

  It was an oddly familiar feeling—a distant echo of my childhood. It reminded me of those days when I would spar with my master, drenched in sweat, muscles trembling from the effort. Back then, my world was simple: train, endure the scoldings, and, if lucky, receive a pat on the back as recognition. I strove to exceed his expectations, to be stronger than the others... and for what? To save the world? Back then, I believed it. Now... well, now I'm not so sure.