I walked slowly through the desolate streets of the old capital, each step echoing in the hollow silence that filled the ruined city. The mausoleum loomed ahead like a ghost from another time, its dark silhouette against the faint light of the setting sun casting long, eerie shadows that stretched across the cracked cobblestones. My aura flared ever so slightly as I moved, something I had once always kept carefully restrained. Now, I didn't bother. The holy power emanating from me was enough to push the dark spawns back, driving them away within a hundred meters, almost like a protective shield. They didn't dare get close, and in a way, I wished they did—at least then I'd have something to focus on other than my thoughts.
Melancholy draped over me like a heavy cloak. I couldn't help but lament as I stared out at the empty streets and crumbling buildings. In my past life, I'd always been a loner, someone who didn't care about anyone or anything. I didn't need anyone. I was the type who lived to prove people wrong, who wore their scorn as armor and their underestimation as fuel. I was strong, smart, and I knew it. That's what kept me going, right?
But this life… This life was different. The more I walked in Josephine's shoes, the more I realized what Trynda meant when they said I wasn't seeing things from Josephine's perspective. I had spent all this time projecting myself onto her, onto the character of Josephine von Konrow, never really considering how she felt. Kim Yoo-ra might've been content being alone, might've steeled herself to endure and to prove everyone wrong. But Josephine… Josephine yearned for something deeper, something that Kim Yoo-ra never even thought to seek.
Josephine longed for connections, for the love and acceptance that had been denied to her, especially from her family. No matter how hard she trained, no matter how skilled she became in magic or swordsmanship, her family never acknowledged her. And unlike Kim Yoo-ra, Josephine cared. Deeply.
I had spent so long focusing on revenge—my revenge—that I never really considered what Josephine wanted. Sure, I'd promised her that I'd help her take revenge, that we'd get even with those who wronged us. But I was always too focused on escaping, on finding a way out, to really ask what Josephine herself wanted out of all this. Would revenge really bring her the satisfaction I was after? Did she even want it in the same way I did?
I sighed, watching as the holy aura I exuded continued to push away the lingering miasma. Being strong, being almighty—it didn't just magically make your problems disappear. That was a bitter pill to swallow. Trynda had tried to tell me, over and over again, that taking the easy way out would only lead to more conflicts, more problems down the line. But I didn't want to listen. I wanted power, thinking it would solve everything. I wanted to crush those who stood in my way, wanted to carve out my own destiny.
But Josephine… she was different. The more I merged with her memories, her feelings, the more I realized how deeply our desires conflicted. I was driven by cold logic, by the need to survive and get even. But Josephine had lived her entire life striving for recognition, for warmth, and for a place where she belonged. She wanted something more than just power. She wanted meaning.
The old capital was a perfect metaphor for the emptiness I felt creeping in. Once, this place was the heart of a thriving empire, where nobility walked these streets in grand attire, where the best and brightest of society gathered. Now, it was nothing more than a ghost town, filled with decay and haunted by its own past. No matter how great it once was, it couldn't escape its fate. Maybe that's what Josephine felt—like no matter how much she fought, how much she tried, her fate was already sealed.
We—I—finally reached the inner town square. The closer I got to the palace, the heavier the air seemed to become. The miasma was thick here, swirling in the distance like a living, breathing entity. It seeped from the cracks of the palace walls, the mausoleum that once housed the rulers of this fallen empire. The air around it was suffocating, like it was pressing down on me, reminding me of just how insignificant I really was.
But I pressed on. My footsteps echoed in the emptiness as I crossed the once-grand square. I could almost imagine it in its prime, filled with bustling nobles and lively gatherings. Now, it was just a desolate wasteland, much like the feelings I had buried deep within me. How could I reconcile my need for vengeance with Josephine's desire for something more?
Kim Yoo-ra might not care, I thought bitterly, but Josephine does.
That was the crux of it all, wasn't it? I wasn't just Kim Yoo-ra anymore, and I wasn't just Josephine either. We were both, fused together, sharing the same body, the same fate. It was strange, realizing how much more complicated things had become since I took over Josephine's life. I thought that having power would make everything simpler, that it would pave the way for me to get what I wanted. But it didn't.
Instead, it made everything harder.
I reached the center of the square and looked up at the towering palace ahead of me. It was dark and foreboding, with the miasma leaking from every crevice, making it look like it was alive. The source of it all, and the next step in whatever twisted fate Josephine—or maybe I—was supposed to follow.
Power wasn't the answer to everything. I could feel that truth settling into my bones the closer I got to the palace. Just like Josephine's family, just like this forsaken capital, some things couldn't be fixed by brute force alone. Josephine knew that. I was the one still learning.
And as much as I hated to admit it, I had a feeling that whatever lay inside that mausoleum wasn't just another obstacle to be bulldozed. It was going to test me—us—in ways I wasn't prepared for. In ways that even all the power in the world couldn't make easier.
With a deep breath, I gathered my strength, letting the holy aura flare up around me once more as I prepared to face whatever awaited in that cursed place. Josephine's memories stirred, and for once, I didn't push them away. I let them rise, let myself feel what she felt.
For the first time since arriving in this world, I wasn't just fighting for survival or revenge. I was fighting for her, for Josephine von Konrow, and for the piece of her that still longed for something more than vengeance.
And I wasn't sure if that would make the road ahead easier or harder.