Harkon remained kneeling before me.
Sweat trickled down his temples, soaking the collar of his disheveled shirt. His hands were bound behind his back. His eyes darted wildly—from me to the sword at my hip, to the closed door, and back to me.
He was calculating his odds. Searching for a gap. Looking for a way to escape.
I recognized that look. I had seen it before. In the life I could not remember, I had faced many men like Harkon. Men who were trapped. Men who were terrified. Men who would say anything to save their own skin.
"You look like a smart man," I said softly. "So I'll get straight to the point."
Harkon swallowed hard.
"I could kill you right now. Here. No one would come looking. The Marquis has already surrendered you to me. You are no longer his asset. You are the refuse he threw away."
His face paled to a ghostly white.
"But..." I crouched down, bringing my eyes level with his. "I don't like wasting things that are still useful."
Harkon blinked. A glimmer of hope appeared in his eyes. Faint, but I saw it.
"W-what do you mean, My Lady?"
I stood up and walked over to one of the wooden crates in the corner of the warehouse. I pried it open. Inside, stacks of gold coins shimmered under the dim oil light. Beside them lay piles of parchment—debt records from dozens of villagers.
"You run a tidy operation," I said, picking up a parchment. I read it aloud. "A farmer named Borin. A loan of 10 coins. 20% interest. Three months overdue. Collateral: his farmland."
I picked up another.
"A widow named Mella. A loan of 5 coins. 25% interest. Due next month. Collateral: her house and livestock."
I set the parchment down and turned back to Harkon.
"You don't lend money, Harkon. You buy people's desperation. You make them dependent, then you strip them of everything they own."
Harkon lowered his head. "I... I was only following the Marquis's orders..."
"I know." I walked back toward him. "And that is why you're still alive. Because you are useful."
I stopped directly in front of him.
"From now on, you work for me."
Harkon looked up, bewildered. "But... the Marquis—"
"The Marquis doesn't need to know." I smiled thinly. "You will continue to 'work' for him. Report whatever he asks. But every report you send... will be vetted by me first. You will feed him the information I want him to receive. Not the truth."
Harkon's eyes widened. "My Lady wants me to... be a spy?"
"I want you to be an asset." I looked him straight in the eye. "Do this well, and you stay alive. You may even keep a small portion of your profits. But if you betray me..."
I didn't finish the sentence. I didn't have to.
Harkon swallowed again, the sound loud in the quiet warehouse.
"I... I understand, My Lady. I will do whatever you command."
"Good." I stepped behind him and cut the ropes binding his hands with my short sword. "Now, let's discuss the details."
An hour later, I stepped out of the warehouse.
Kael was waiting outside, his face tense. The moment he saw me, he approached.
"You were in there a long time. I was about to go in."
"There was no need." I walked past him. "Harkon has been... handled."
Kael followed. "He's still alive?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
I stopped and turned. "Because he's more useful alive than dead."
Kael stared at me. I could see his mind working. He didn't fully understand, but he didn't argue. "What did you do to him?"
"I made him ours." I resumed walking. "He will continue to work for the Marquis. But every piece of intel he gathers will reach us first. The Marquis will hear only what I want him to hear."
Kael remained silent for a few paces. Then he said quietly, "That's... clever."
"I know."
"And a little cruel."
I didn't answer. He wasn't wrong.
We returned to the castle as dawn approached. The sky was shifting from black to a dull grey. In the distance, I could see the silhouette of the castle—old, weathered, but still standing.
Like me.
Once inside, I headed straight for my room. But before I reached the door, I heard footsteps behind me.
"Mother."
I turned. Reno stood at the end of the hallway. His white hair was a mess, his eyes bloodshot—he likely hadn't slept all night.
"You haven't slept," I noted.
"Neither have you." He walked closer. "What happened at the warehouse?"
I looked at him. Reno wasn't a child who could be fooled with half-answers. He was far too sharp for that.
"I took over Harkon's operation," I said. "He works for us now. The Marquis doesn't know."
Reno blinked, then smirked. "You made him a double agent."
"Yes."
His smirk widened. "That's... brilliant."
"I know."
He let out a short laugh—a sigh of admiration. "You know, Mother... the longer I observe you, the more certain I become."
"Certain of what?"
Reno looked at me, his gaze piercing. "That you aren't the mother you used to be. The old mother would never do this. She would cry, beg for mercy, pray to the gods."
I remained silent.
"The current you..." Reno continued, "you're like a snake. Quiet. Patient. But once you strike, it's lethal."
"Is that a compliment?"
Reno smirked. "Perhaps."
He turned and walked away. But before vanishing around the corner, he stopped.
"I like the current you," he said without looking back. "At least this version won't die in vain."
I stood in the silent hallway. Reno's words echoed in my head.
The old mother would cry. Pray to the gods.
I didn't remember that woman. But I believed him. And for some reason... I didn't want to be her ever again.
I entered my room, closed the door, and unbuckled the sword from my waist. I set it on the table and sat on the edge of the bed, staring at my hands.
These hands were small. Smooth. Without calluses. The hands of a noble girl who had never worked a day in her life.
But tonight... these hands had just seized control of a man's life. These hands had turned Harkon from an enemy into a tool. These hands had won a battle without shedding a single drop of blood.
Who am I, really?
In the corner of my vision, the blue screen appeared.
[ SOUL GUIDE SYSTEM – SLEEP MODE ]
[ Data Recovery: 13% ]
[ New Fragment Detected: "Facing the Trap". ]
[ Description: You walked into an enemy trap and emerged with that enemy as your subordinate. This is not luck. This is instinct. This is who you truly are. ]
[ Query: Continue recovery? ]
I stared at the screen.
This is who you truly are.
The phrase looped in my head. Not as a question, but as a statement.
I was someone who turned traps into opportunities. I was someone who wasn't afraid to walk into the lion's den alone. I was someone who preferred turning an enemy into a tool rather than killing them.
I was...
"Not now," I whispered.
The screen vanished. But this time, my refusal felt different. It wasn't because I was afraid. It was because... I wasn't ready for the answer. Not yet.
I needed more proof. I needed to know who I was—not from the System, but from my own actions.
The next morning, I summoned Kael and Reno to the dining hall.
"I have tasks for both of you," I said without preamble.
"Reno. You will return to the village. Meet Harkon. He will give you copies of all debt records and a list of the villagers involved. I want you to map out who we can recruit."
"Recruit?" Reno arched an eyebrow.
"Desperate people are easy to control—but they are also fiercely loyal if you give them a way out." I met his gaze. "We are going to give them that way out. Their debts to Harkon will be erased. In exchange, they will be our eyes and ears in the village. Every move the Marquis makes, every stranger that arrives, every whisper—I want to know."
Reno smirked. "Mother wants to build a spy network."
"I want to weave a spiderweb. The Marquis won't be able to twitch without me knowing."
Reno nodded. "I like it. When do I start?"
"Now."
He stood up, gave a playful salute, and walked out. I turned to Kael.
"Your sword training... how is it?"
He hesitated. "Still... far from enough."
"Show me."
The armory was just as I had last seen it. Dusty. Stifling. Filled with rusted old swords.
Kael stood in the center of the room, a longsword in his hand. I stood by the door, observing.
"Begin."
Kael raised his sword and slashed forward. The movement was stiff. Too much tension in the shoulders, not enough in the hips.
"Again."
He slashed again. Slightly better, but still lacking.
"Again."
And again. Kael kept slashing, sweating, his breath coming in ragged gasps. But he didn't stop. He didn't complain. He had resolve. That was good.
"Stop."
Kael halted, looking at me. His eyes were full of frustration. "I can never be that fast," he said. "Father never taught me—"
"I know." I walked closer. "But you can learn. You just need..."
I grabbed a short sword from the rack. The weight was familiar.
"...instinct."
I swung the blade slowly. The movement wasn't perfect—this body wasn't trained—but the direction was right. The angle was precise.
"Look. Don't think of the sword as a foreign object. Think of it as an extension of your arm."
Kael stared at me, then at his sword. He tried again. A slash.
Still stiff. But then—
His eyes. They flared with a faint red light. It was subtle, almost invisible, but I saw it. And his strike this time... it was faster. Stronger. The blade cut through the air with a sharp whoosh.
Kael gasped, staring at his own blade. "What was—"
"Aura," I said softly.
The word came out instinctively. I didn't know where it came from, but the moment I said it, it felt... right.
"Aura?" Kael looked at me.
"The power of a knight. Born from training and will." I looked into his eyes, which still held a faint red glow. "You have talent."
Kael was silent. Then he looked at his sword again, this time with different eyes. Not frustration. But... hope.
"I will keep training," he said, his voice trembling—not from fear, but from something else. He had found something to be proud of.
That night, I sat alone in the dining hall. A map of the Varen territory was spread before me. I marked the village, the main roads, and the borders with the Marquis's lands.
The spiderweb was beginning to form.
Harkon as a double agent. Reno as the liaison. The villagers as spies. Kael as a knight whose Aura was beginning to awaken.
It was only the beginning. But it was a good beginning.
I touched the locket around my neck. The Eternal Eye. The Marquis. The Academy. My past.
One by one. I would face them all.
In the corner of my vision, the blue screen appeared again. But this time, I didn't read it. I already knew what it would say.
I was someone who didn't give up. I was someone who turned weakness into strength. I was someone who protected what was hers.
And this family... was mine.