The Royal Dungeon of the capital smelled exactly how Ethan imagined a medieval dungeon would smell: like wet stone, stale blood, and horrendous life choices.
Two burly guards practically carried him down the spiraling stone stairs.
Ethan made sure to let his head loll to the side, occasionally letting out a wet, pathetic cough just to sell the "I am dying of Black Lotus poison" act.
Internally, however, it was a completely different story.
It felt like a thousand tiny ice-cold needles were violently unblocking his veins. The agonizing, sludgy pain in his chest was dissolving, replaced by a rushing, electric sensation that made the hairs on his arms stand up.
[System Reward Processing: Full Poison Cleanse... 100%!]
[System Reward Processing: Mana Pathways Unlocking... Success!]
'Oh, yeah. That's the good stuff,' Ethan thought as a surge of raw, unadulterated energy flooded his system.
It felt like he had just chugged five espresso shots and a Red Bull, but instead of a heart attack, he got magic.
The guards threw him into the deepest cell at the end of the corridor. He hit the damp straw floor with a heavy thud.
"Don't die before the Cleric gets here, scum," the lead guard spat, slamming the heavy iron-barred door shut.
The tumblers clicked loudly, locking him in. "The Sword Maiden will have our heads if you cheat the headsman."
Their heavy boots echoed up the stairs, fading until the dungeon was entirely silent, save for the dripping of water and the scurrying of a very confused rat.
Ethan laid there in the straw for exactly three seconds.
Then, he smoothly sat up, cracked his neck, and let out a long, satisfied exhale.
"Status," he whispered.
[STATUS]
Name: Ethan Nox
Level: 3 (Mortal Realm)
HP: 100/100 (Healthy)
Mana: 150/150 (Awakened)
Strength: 4 (Still Pathetic)
Agility: 5 (Still Sluggish)
Charm: 95 (Peerless)
System Points: 1,000
"Look at that," Ethan muttered, admiring his full HP bar. "I'm a brand new man. A physically weak, highly attractive man, but a man nonetheless."
Pop!
A cloud of golden sparkles erupted in front of his face, and his tiny Soul Guide materialized. She was holding her tiny glowing clipboard, staring at him with her jaw completely unhinged.
[You...] she squeaked, pointing a tiny finger at his nose.[You are a monster. You are a pathological, sociopathic, Oscar-winning liar!]
"I prefer the term 'tactical storyteller'," Ethan corrected, dusting the straw off his ruined silk shirt. "And it worked, didn't it? My head is currently attached to my neck. I'd call that a resounding victory."
[You completely broke her brain!] the fairy yelled, flying in circles around his head.[Lysandra Vance is known as the Unshatterable Blade! She is the most resolute, unyielding woman in the Empire! And you gave her a sad smile and gaslit her into thinking you were an undercover martyr?! She's up there right now questioning her entire reality!]
"Good. Off to a great start then," Ethan grinned, leaning back against the cold stone wall.
He glanced at his System log.
[Target: Lysandra Vance's Murderous Intent has stabilized at 60%.]
[Target's Confusion is at 85%.]
[Passive EXP generation decreased to 2 per second.]
Ethan frowned. "Wait. My EXP generation dropped from 40 to 2?"
[Of course it did, you idiot!] the guide said, landing on his knee.[Your Unique Skill, 'Peerless Scapegoat', runs on their desire to murder you! By convincing Lysandra that you might actually be a good guy, you lowered her Murderous Intent. Less hate equals less EXP!]
Ethan rubbed his chin, realizing the terrifying tightrope he was walking.
If they hated him 100%, they would instantly chop his head off.
If they forgave him 100%, his cheat skill would turn off, and he'd be stuck as a weak Level 3 noble in a world filled with monsters.
"So, I have to keep them trapped in a toxic cycle of 'I want to kill him' and 'Wait, maybe I can fix him'?" Ethan realized, a slow, devious smile spreading across his face. "Fairy, I was a psychology minor for two semesters. I was born for this."
[You are a menace to society.]
"I'm a survivor. Now, open the System Shop. I have a thousand points burning a hole in my pocket, and I need to prepare."
[Prepare for what? The Cleric?]
"The Cleric isn't coming first," Ethan said, his crimson eyes narrowing as he looked at the iron door. "Did you see the look on that Fire Mage's face on the balcony? Lysandra might have bought the tragic hero routine, but that mage was ready to turn me into KFC. She's not going to wait for an interrogation."
The fairy gulped. [Right. Fated Harem Member #2. Seraphina Ignis. The Crimson Witch. She has a bit of a... temper.]
"Shop. Now."
A golden storefront materialized in the air. Ethan quickly filtered the results by his current budget of 1,000 points.
He didn't have time to buy offensive spells; with 4 Strength and only 150 Mana, he wasn't winning a magical duel against a prodigy. He needed defense. He needed a prop for his next performance.
His eyes landed on an item.
[Item: Ring of the Salamander's Spite]
[Rarity: Rare]
[Cost: 950 System Points]
[Effect: Passively absorbs the first fatal Fire-attribute attack directed at the Host and completely nullifies it. Cooldown: 24 Hours.]
"Buy it," Ethan commanded.
[Purchase confirmed! 950 Points deducted.]
A heavy, obsidian ring with a glowing ruby center dropped out of thin air and landed in Ethan's palm. He immediately slipped it onto his right index finger.
It was perfectly timed.
Because at that exact moment, the temperature in the dungeon spiked.
It wasn't a gradual warming.
It was as if someone had just opened the door to an industrial blast furnace. The puddle of water near Ethan's boots began to violently bubble and hiss.
The confused rat squeaked in terror and squeezed through a crack in the wall to escape.
Clack. Clack. Clack.
The sound of high heels echoing against the stone steps was slow, rhythmic, and utterly terrifying.
Ethan scrambled to his feet, instantly shifting his posture. He leaned weakly against the iron bars, coughing once more for good measure, playing the part of the dying prisoner.
At the end of the dark hallway, a glowing orange light appeared.
Seraphina Ignis stepped out of the shadows.
She was devastatingly gorgeous, clad in flowing crimson robes that seemed to gently ripple like liquid fire. Her dark hair was pinned up with golden hairpins shaped like phoenix feathers, and her eyes were a terrifying, glowing amber.
She didn't have a key to the cell. She didn't need one.
Seraphina raised a single, perfectly manicured hand. The heavy iron lock on the cell door began to glow cherry red, then blinding white, before it simply melted like butter, dripping onto the floor in a puddle of molten slag.
She pushed the iron door open with the tip of her staff.
[WARNING!]
[Target Identified: Seraphina Ignis - The Crimson Witch]
[Status: Fated Harem Member #2]
[Current Murderous Intent: 850%]
[Host is generating 25 EXP per second!]
"Lysandra might be a gullible, honor-bound idiot, Nox," Seraphina purred, her voice like velvet wrapping around a razor blade. "But I am not."
She stepped into the cell. The air was so hot Ethan could feel his eyebrows threatening to singe.
"You stole my family's grimoire. You humiliated me in front of the Arcane Academy. You broke our engagement to sleep with a common barmaid," Seraphina listed his sins, a ball of swirling, blue-hot fire manifesting in the palm of her hand. "I don't care if you took poison. I don't care about your little 'hidden hero' sob story. I am going to turn you into a pile of ash and scatter you in the royal latrines."
Ethan looked at the swirling blue fire. It was absolute death.
He took a slow breath, letting his '95 Charm' go to work. He didn't cower or beg. Instead, he let out a soft, mocking chuckle.
"I broke the engagement because you deserved better, Sera," Ethan whispered, using her nickname.
Seraphina's amber eyes widened in sheer outrage. "Excuse me?!"
"You were shackled to a dying, corrupt house," Ethan lied smoothly, staring right into her fiery eyes. "You are the Crimson Witch. You are destined to rule the Arcane Towers. If you married me, my family's enemies would have dragged you down with us."
"Liar!" Seraphina screamed, thrusting her hand forward. "DIE!"
The blast of blue fire erupted from her palm, moving so fast Ethan couldn't even blink.
It struck him dead in the chest, a roaring inferno designed to vaporize flesh and bone instantly.
The fire engulfed him completely.
Seraphina lowered her hand, her chest heaving with rage. She glared at the smoke, waiting for it to clear to see the ashes of the man she hated most.
But as the smoke parted, a silhouette remained.
Ethan stood exactly where he had been, completely unharmed.
The Ring of the Salamander's Spite had absorbed the blast perfectly, though the system prompted him that it was now on a 24-hour cooldown.
He didn't even brush the soot off his shoulders.
He looked at Seraphina, who was staring at him in absolute, reality-breaking shock.
"If killing me helps you achieve your destiny, Sera..." Ethan said softly, taking a deliberate step forward into her personal space. He reached out and gently wrapped his hand around her trembling wrist. "Then cast it again."
[CRITICAL HIT!]