John carefully tugged the hood back, checking her reaction every second. His right hand gripped a table lamp, ready to knock her out if she woke up.
As the hood was lowered, purple hair spilled out, making John uneasy. He slowly flipped the woman over to see her face.
Her eyes were wide open, completely dark, with no pupils or irises.
John caught a glimpse of them and immediately pushed her over, turning her eyes away from him. Fear gripped him like a vice; his heart rate spiraled out of control. Gazing into those eyes for more than a second had felt like staring into an abyss that would devour his soul.
It took him a minute to calm down and process what he had just seen. Her power likely came from the spirit realm, as did the price she must pay. The spirit realm wasn't thoroughly explored in the original novel because the main character didn't specialize in dealing with it.
His mind was still reeling, struggling to make sense of the situation. But one thing was clear: this woman had to be someone important. Purple hair wasn't natural in this world, suggesting she had acquired it through a special Mystic power or inherited it from her parents. Alternatively, it could be dyed, but colorful hair often signified someone of significance.
Who is she?
John could only think of one character with purple hair, Onia Fynimen. She was a major character in the novel, who eventually ended up with Klad, the protagonist.
Onia was the daughter of a crumbling baron house, which was on the brink of collapse. Their downfall began when her father fell ill and left no son to inherit the house, leading to family conflict as relatives eyed their assets.
Onia's awakening of Mystic power, which allowed her to summon a divine tiger through a flute, had given her family a second chance. The royal family recognized her talent and admitted her into the academy, promising to support her if she graduated at the top of her class. Her position as the future baroness seemed secure.
But this couldn't be Onia. She was supposed to be in the academy right now, accompanying Klad and reviving her family's fortunes in future story arcs. She couldn't be mixed up with heretics right now.
Moreover, this girl's powers were different. Instead of summoning a tiger, she had called forth a turtle and a frog—very powerful spirits. One had stopped three priests in their tracks, and the other had quickly transported her and John away. John had a sneaking suspicion that this wasn't a normal path of power.
No wonder the backlash had knocked her out cold, leaving her with those black, soul-sucking eyes. This was a stark reminder of the dangers in this world. One wrong move could lead to disaster.
uh
John noticed her body begin to stir. His hand tightened around the table lantern, ready to strike if necessary. He waited as she slowly pushed herself up, her movements stiff and sluggish. When she finally turned her head to look at him, John braced himself, squinting his eyes in case she still had those terrifying black pupils.
But to his relief, her eyes were normal now. When he saw him, she readily went into panic mode.
"I... I'm sorry, master! Because of my lack of skill... we were caught."
Girl, I'm the reason you got caught, John thought wryly.
The girl immediately bowed deeply, her hands trembling as she did so. This confirmed John's suspicion—she either didn't know who the real master heretics were or the body he inhabited had originally belonged to someone else. NOt of the original Reeva but that of a heretic.
Maybe, in the original story, the Duke didn't execute his own son but rather a heretic who had taken over his body. That would explain why the Duke let him go, only to act differently later in the story.
"You did a good job," John said, testing the waters.
The girl remained silent, but John could see her body quivering with happiness at his praise. He pitied her, such a reaction suggested she had little to no self-worth. She would be easily manipulated by whatever the heretic was supposed to be here.
"But still, we got caught," John continued, trying to gauge more information.
"I'm sorry, master!!" the girl cried out, raising her voice. "P... Please punish me."
"I'm not going to punish you," John replied, trying to maintain the façade.
"Really!?" Her voice was filled with astonishment and relief as if he had just given her the greatest gift imaginable. John felt a strange mix of guilt and awkwardness. He could tell she was desperate for approval, and it made him uncomfortable.
He needed to think about his next move. The key was to figure out why they were supposed to meet up. If he was indeed the person she was meant to connect with, it meant the real heretics had prepared her in advance, expecting him to occupy this body.
A Duke's son with a broken circle of power was the perfect candidate for a heretic to take over—wealth, influence, and a weakened state made him vulnerable. Reeva, as Duke Antores' son, was the ideal target.
But why am I here? John wondered. That was a question he couldn't yet answer.
The dark mystic, if he truly wanted to use this body, would need to form a heretic circle as soon as possible to regain his power. The first step would require a mystic ingredient, and John needed to manipulate this girl into providing it.
"Did you forget something?" he asked, watching her reaction carefully.
"I'm sorry, master! I will get the thing you asked for!"
Bingo, John thought.
The girl quickly stood and walked over to a table on the side of the room. She removed a black cloth, revealing something hidden underneath. As she pulled it back, John's eyes widened.
It was an eyeball, suspended in a jar of murky liquid.