A girl stood on the edge of a balcony on the top floor of the castle, her delicate feet mere inches from a perilous drop that would surely be fatal for any normal person. Yet, she felt no fear. Rather her mind and body were calm as if they were in unison, silently awaiting a drop to death. Her skin was pale, as if she had been confined in a tower for eighteen long years. Her long black hair cascaded down her back, silky and well-groomed, a testament to her care during her isolation.
This delicate flower looked down at her trembling hands, a look of confusion and distress on her face. "What are these slender fingers and wrists?" she thought, her mind racing. "Where are my calloused hands from years of training as a child?"
She placed her hands on her chest, feeling the mounds there. "This is... These are breasts? Why do I have breasts?" Panic welled up inside her as she put her hand under her skirt, searching for something that was no longer there. "Where is my... This... This isn’t me..."
Suddenly she recalled who she was—
A small wail escaped her lips as she tugged at her hair, her voice rising to a scream.
"Ahhh... Ahhhhhhh!!!!" The moments after her death flashed through her mind like a nightmare’s grasp she couldn't escape.
The memory of the agony was vivid and fresh, as if it had just happened. The sensation of boiling water being poured down her throat, into her eyes and ears, was seared into her consciousness. The memory of rusty butcher knives slowly tearing off her skin, prolonging her suffering, was unbearable as if she was still experiencing it.
She recalled the searing pain, the feeling of her soul being ripped apart, and the excruciating agony that seemed to last an eternity, punishing her for the most extreme crime.
“How can anyone die peacefully if death itself is so excruciating painful” is what any person would think if they went through the same thing.
She tried to recall what had killed her but her fragile mind only made her see a golden light and recall the voice of a familiar woman.
As she stood on the balcony, the reality of her situation began to sink in. She was not the girl she appeared to be. The body she inhabited was unfamiliar, yet it was hers now. The memories of her former life, the life of training and struggle, were fading, replaced by the strange new sensations of this body. She looked out over the vast landscape, feeling the weight of her new existence bearing down on her.
“…Why am I crying…? I’ve… I’ve never cried before…”
Tears continued to well up in her eyes as she grappled with the reality of her situation.
The isolation, the confusion, and the fear were slowly beginning to overwhelm her fragile mind. She felt utterly alone, standing on the brink of an abyss that had no sources of light to guide her path. There were no other voices in this abyss, highlighting how alone she felt. If this isolation continued, she would begin to hear the voices of others—perhaps those she killed.
The night was dark, and a cold wind blew, ruffling her hair and sending shivers down her spine, a sign that she was still alive somehow. She closed her eyes, trying to steady her breathing. The pressure from her current situation seemed to improve somewhat after she calmed down her breathing.
Within the castle, she heard faint sounds—footsteps and distant voices. It was a reminder that life continued, indifferent to her plight. She had to find answers, to understand what had happened to her and why she had been thrust into this new existence. But for now, she was left with only her confusion and a sense of loss that weighed heavily on her heart.
As her eyes looked up at the lonely moon in the sky, she knew she had to step back from the edge. There was a life to live, questions to be answered, and perhaps, a way to securing vengeance. With a deep breath, she was about to turn away from the balcony's edge, determined to face whatever challenges lay ahead.
“Eh--?” Just before she could take a step back, a powerful wind pushed her back.
At that moment it felt like the sounds of seagulls, the crashing of waves against rock, the voices within the castle—all vanished in that moment when her small feet were pushed off the edge.
A plead echoed deep within her mind like a bellow within a cave.
Nooo, I don’t want to experience death again! Help me! Help—!
The deafening silence vanished, a troubled woman’s voice reaching her ears:
“—Why would you commit suicide right after we revived you?”
Now floating in mid-air and surrounded by four magic circles that seemed to hold her in place, the girl turned her head to face the voice.
The voice belonged to a young girl who had the voice of a mature woman. She had blue skin, golden eyes and long, wavy dark blue hair that rested on her delicate shoulders and naked back to make up for lack of cloth.
There was a small golden rune carved onto her left cheek that seemed to be a piece of an unfinished rune.
[Greater Fragmentation Rune]
“…Lyra…?”
◊◊
The two said nothing else to each other when the woman— “Lyra”—helped the girl down from the balcony.
The two were talking down a dark hallway, a gentle magic orb floating above the blue-skinned woman’s head and illuminating part of the hallway.
The girl glanced at the woman who she had called “Lyra”.
All “Lyra” said was to follow her. The reason for how she ended up here was unknown to her but the girl had a feeling she was about to find out.
The woman suddenly turned to the right as they reached a door at the far end of the hall. Without a word, she opened it and stepped inside. The girl hesitated for a few seconds, her eyes darting around nervously before she timidly followed after her.
Inside, the room revealed itself to be a vast laboratory, rivaling the grandest Magic Tower labs the girl had ever seen. The lab was filled with an eerie, sterile ambiance, the air humming with a faint, almost imperceptible buzz of magical energy. The walls were lined with sleek, metallic surfaces, reflecting the harsh white light that illuminated the entire space.
In the room, a series of large glass barriers housed clones—rows of identical black-haired girls, each one eerily alike in appearance. They stood perfectly still, their eyes, a cold, unblinking stare, following the two visitors as they moved. The clones' expressions were devoid of emotion, giving them an unsettling, doll-like appearance. Their pale skin and uniform features made it impossible to distinguish one from another, and their lifeless gaze seemed to pierce through the glass, creating an unnerving atmosphere.
The lab was meticulously organized, with tables and counters cluttered with various magical apparatuses, alchemical tools, and strange, glowing crystals that are usually found near portals in the Sky God Dungeon. Familiar but otherwise complex runic diagrams adorned the walls, pulsating softly with magical energy, indicating ongoing experiments or containment spells which were probably implemented to keep the outside of the lab completely unharmed if anything goes wrong inside it. Shelves lined with ancient tomes and scrolls hinted at the depth of knowledge and research that took place in this space over a period of decades.
The blue-skinned woman, looking no older than a thirteen-year-old girl, moved with a purposeful grace, her presence commanding attention despite her small stature. Her eyes scanned the room with a knowing gaze, as if she was intimately familiar with every corner of the lab. She seemed unaffected by the clones' watchful eyes, her expression calm and composed.
In contrast, the girl who followed her hesitated at the threshold, her eyes wide with a mix of awe and trepidation. She looked strikingly similar to the clones behind the glass, sharing their black hair and delicate features. Her resemblance to them was uncanny, making it clear that she was somehow connected to this mysterious experiment.
As the girl stepped further into the lab, she couldn't help but feel a chill run down her spine. The clones' silent scrutiny was unnerving, and the room's clinical, almost inhuman atmosphere only heightened her sense of unease.
What was this place? Who were these clones, and why did they look like her? And most importantly, what did the blue-skinned woman intend to do?
“Before you explain to me how you know me and who you really are, I want you to go to the very end of the facility. Someone is there waiting for you.” The woman sat down on the chair nearby in front of a bunch of computer screens.
The girl stood still for a moment as she looked at the back of the blue-skinned woman who was reading through some documents.
“She’s waiting for you” was all she said as she pointed down the gigantic facility.
The girl gulped a little and slowly began walking through the facility, her bare feet tapping on the unusually clean floor.
She reached the far end of the facility, the blue-skinned woman from before now the size of her index finger in the distance.
Unlike the other glass chambers, this chamber was open so there was no need to wait outside for it to give her access. Without a second thought, the girl headed inside the room, her eyes blasted by an unusually white light coming from the ceiling.
The room was simple, had almost no furniture besides a bed, some chairs, a closet and cupboards. There was also a door that was connected inside the room and the sound of utensils and porcelain plates could be heard. It was probably a kitchen and the person Lyra was talking about was there.
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The girl’s eyes scanned the room before it landed on the bed. On top of that bed…
“Is that… me…?”
On the bed lay a tall young man with dark blue hair, his skin pale and tinged with a bluish hue as if he had been pulled from the depths of a lake. Golden veins threaded beneath his skin, wrapping around every muscle in his body, starkly visible to the naked eye. Clad only in underpants, the cause of his condition—no, cause of death—was painfully clear—a gaping slash across his chest, radiating with a pulsating golden energy.
A shiver went through the girl—no, Arnold’s body.
Song’s [Judgment - Lament of Malevolence], a skill of the holy sword that promises suffering to even the dead.
Arnold’s knees weakened and he fell onto the cold floor, his dead eyes looking down at his hands. If looked at from the back, anyone would see a frail girl with small shoulders that needed to be protected.
He was now such a weak existence that showed the pathetic feelings he was trying to shove down all his life.
The sound of a plate falling on the floor interrupted the overwhelming silence. It was coming from the door that was connected to this room, and not the entrance.
“—Arnold…?” a familiar voice came from behind the girl.
She jolted and her head slowly turned to look at the voice.
Standing there was a young woman—judging by her supple white skin and youthful wide hips—who was wearing the helmet of Gergois’ complete armor set.
Her feet slowly neared Arnold before she broke into a run. She threw the helmet off her head, her tears making an arc as she ran and jumped onto Arnold while shouting his name.
The two rolled on the floor when she hugged him.
Rafaela buried her face in his chest, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs. The sound of her muffled crying was heart-wrenching, a raw expression of pain and relief. Arnold felt a lump form in his throat as he realized the depth of her feelings, the sheer joy and sorrow mixed together.
He could feel her tears soaking through the dress he was wearing, warm and real, grounding him in the moment.
For a moment, neither of them spoke. Arnold’s mind raced, trying to process the whirlwind of emotions. Rafaela's embrace was tight, desperate, as if she feared letting go would make him vanish. He placed a trembling hand on her back, feeling the tension and fragility in her form.
“Rafaela... I’m here,” Arnold whispered, his voice choked with… emotion…?
“…I’m really here.”
She pulled back slightly, just enough to look up at him, her eyes red and swollen from crying. Her lips trembled as she tried to speak, but no words came out. Instead, she shook her head, tears streaming down her cheeks, and buried her face in his chest again, holding him even tighter.
Arnold felt his own eyes well up, the weight of the moment pressing down on him. The relief, the confusion, the overwhelming surge of emotions—they were all too much. He held Rafaela close, his own tears finally spilling over, mingling with hers as they clung to each other, united in their shared grief and relief.
In that moment, the world around them seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of them, wrapped in each other's arms, finding solace in their reunion.
In that moment, he felt more human as an artificial clone than he did as Arnold.
…
…
“—I hate to interrupt this reunion but there’s some news concerning the boy’s body.” Lyra appeared in the doorway, a hologram tablet floating next to her showing an X-ray of a body.
Rafaela and Arnold stood up while wiping the tears from their eyes. After looking over at Arnold’s real body for a few seconds, Lyra began speaking.
“Before I get to that,” she looked at Arnold, well, the body he was using now, “You called me by my name even though this is our first time meeting each other.”
Rafaela looked at Arnold with a confused expression.
“…Well, you were the one who told me that your soul was split up in fragments due to one of the holy sword’s skills.”
Thinking about how both of them are in perilous situations due to the holy sword, this must be fate.
“What?” a frown formed on her brow, “You met another version of me? Where?”
“She’s locked to the grounds of the Ardark Academy in the Eulia Empire. She can’t leave the academy and spends most of her time in the library, isolated from the staff and students.”
“She can’t leave? What kind of magic is keeping her confined there?”
“Neither of us know why she’s trapped in the academy specifically or what magic was used…”
“Is she older or younger than me?”
“Why does that matter…?”
“Because!” she grabbed her non-existent chest, “These aren’t what I had before I fought the Hero! They were way bigger than this! I look like a child for goodness’ sake!”
Arnold mentally produced the Lyra from the academy next to the Lyra in front of him.
“She’s about two heads taller and her breasts are about this big.” He made a circular motion on his own chest, indicating that Lyra’s breasts were D-cup.
“Two heads taller… Then that means… My theory about soul fragmentation is true! The skill that cursed me separated my soul and body into cycles. There could be a baby me out there and an old lady version of me. The one you met is probably five years older than me.”
So, basically an 18-year-old adult by human standards from earth?
Bookworm Lyra (from the academy) would be the one going to college and scientist Lyra would be in middle school. Which means there’s a mature version of Lyra out there as well and a grandma, like scientist Lyra said.
“So, there are four versions of you in total….”
“I believe so. There could also be a toddler version of me or even an unborn version but I can’t conclude that yet since pregnancy should be taken into account as well. Humanoids aren’t exactly pregnant for hundreds of years.”
She smiled to herself as if she learned something interesting, “I need to go see the version of me from that academy before I embark on my mission. I might be able to find a way to merge our bodies together with her present.”
A system window suddenly appeared above Lyra’s head when her movements froze as if time stopped.
‘What…? The system still works even though I’m technically dead?’ ignoring that for a second, he looked at the contents.
· System updated!
· Patch notes: An additional subquest has been added to one of your two active main quests.
· Requirement(s) for completion: Tell Lyra (Beta) that you know how to free Rafaela and help the Elven Mother of Nature at the same time.
Rewards include:
1. Half of all locked skills will be unlocked upon completing subquest
2. Access to Star Shop
3. 25 000 Star Points
4. System hardware update (note: more features will be made available)
Arnold looked at Rafaela at that moment. He noticed that she had been glancing at him while he was conversing with Lyra.
“Free Rafaela”.
He silently looked at those two words.
“Why would Rafaela be included in the quest requirements?”
· She has the [Godling Seed] that is required for gods to possess a mortal body and assimilate with its lifeforce without any consequences.
“Godling seed…” his gaze shifted from the status window to Rafaela, the status window, then back at her again. The words didn’t change so he wasn’t imagining things.
“…I’m guessing she’s going to inherit the Elven Mother’s soul, right?” He concluded as such after remembering what was happening to the World Tree.
This never needed to happen in the main story, well, that’s if players weren’t lazy to do the Elf Queen’s quests upon journeying to the Elven Country before the endgame arcs. One of those quests involved travelling down to the roots of the World Tree to find out what is causing it to die out. But players find out later that the Elven Mother was actually the reason for that since she was on the end of her long lifespan. Her soul was connected to the World Tree as its creator. If she dies then so does the World Tree and the aftermath of that happening was best left up to imagination.
Arnold could spare the Elven Mother her suffering and give Rafaela hope by telling them that he knows how to save the World Tree.
He looked at Rafaela again and recalled that night when she showed him her back—the self-inflicted wounds fresh in his memory.
“What does her condition look like…”
· Condition: happy
“….”
He then noticed the many cuts on her arms and the mark around her neck.
…Despite the contrasting emotions that was going on inside her head, her eyes held a special kind of warmth that he hadn’t seen before.
He could finally bring happiness into her life if he just revealed what he knew.
However—
‘It’s not the right time to tell them that I know about the Divine Fertilizer…’
He mentally told the system to go away, which it obeyed.
“—About the news of your body,” Lyra unfroze and began speaking again as she glanced at Arnold’s body a second time, “It seems the aura that was being regulated throughout your body has mysteriously stopped as if it was frozen like water.”
Aura continuously flows through a person’s body even after their death. Your aura begins to dry up after a while though since your body isn’t producing more aura after death. In Arnold’s case as a blue aura type, it should take up to a week for his aura to stop regulating throughout his body.
Arnold already knew why his aura had mysteriously stopped flowing. The system told him moments before his death, after all.
“…Is it possible to put my aura nerve network inside this clone’s body? Without my aura… I’m nothing…”
“I can do that but your aura channels have been maturing for almost two decades within your body and constantly produced power to your body, which is why your muscles are so hardened and tougher than the average male. That much power will only end up shutting this homunculi’s body down even after only one fight.”
“So that means I won’t be able to fight until I remove that skill…”
“Why is it needed for you to fight?” Lyra tilted her head, “You can simply go home, no?”
“There’s something I still have to get and to do that I need to possibly fight…” every battle he’s been through and the cause of his death flashed past his mind, “If I don’t get it then I went through so much for nothing.”
He couldn’t focus on Arthur or anything else now. The pure martial arts book was more important. It will serve as his stepping stone to become one of the most powerful martial artists on the entire continent of Diacree.
“Do you know what body you’re currently in possession of?” Lyra asked and continued without giving him time to respond, “A homunculi that I personally created and nurtured for almost a century. The girl you took possession of might be just an empty vessel but she was my child.”
“So, I’m supposed to obediently wait here until I can get my body back…?”
“That’s what I want you to do but given the state of your body and your desire to continue fighting even now, I know what you seek is very important, thus I will not stop you. But you should remember that their bodies are fragile despite being high-leveled. Two of them died during your soul transfer. We had to link your lifeforce with five others in case the current body shuts down as well.”
‘That does sound concerning… She said her clones are high-leveled but how high exactly?’
He brought up his status. He was unsure if he still had his own status so he pulled it up to clear his doubts.
· Due to Player Arnold’s lack of insight of this body, only a limited version of the status can be shown:
_______
Race: Homunculi (Imperfect)
Level: 90
Strength: 2089
Agility: 5500
Aura Power(AP): 0
Defense: 1000
Dexterity: 760
Magic Power: 0
_______
“….”
“Is something wrong?” Lyra waved in front of his face, “You’ve been silent for a while now.”
“No… It’s nothing…” this wasn’t the time to act bewildered.
He had important tasks to focus on. Before that, he had a question concerning these creations of Lyra:
“Why did you create these homunculi?”
“Yes, master, you’ve never told any of us why you created the clones in the first place…”
“I’m…” Lyra averted her eyes as if she was embarrassed to admit something and took a deep breath before continuing, “—I’m researching soul bending. It’s the art of repairing, breaking apart and transferring souls between bodies, even that of demigods.”
“You’re researching it? Not just anyone is capable of controlling souls. The rare few who can get involved in shady practices like cults or get employed to keep their masters alive forever by transferring souls to other bodies.”
There were actually side quests in the game with these cults, Arnold’s cultists being one of them. They wanted to find a way to keep Arnold alive forever so he could dominate the martial world. Of course, soul transfer is illegal in Diacree just like necromancy. It involves taking away someone’s human rights and using them for experimentation. While this in itself isn’t a big issue to a nation if a few commoners are the guinea pigs, allowing something like this sets a bad precedent among criminals who can escape punishment after committing grievous crimes. The act of controlling souls is also considered heresy because in the eyes of Melis’ followers those who commit these deeds are playing God.
“Hold on, if you’re still researching it, then how did you put me in this body?”
“I wasn’t the one who did it. Even if I was capable of doing something like that, your soul wouldn’t be in its original state before death.”
“Then how was my soul put inside this body…?” he urged her to explain.
At that moment, someone else came into the room.
“—That would be me, dear customer. You needn’t thank me, kakaka!”