Chapter 22: 1. the starting line (1)

“Arg.” Clutching at her burning throat, Lillian stumbled. Someone frantically grabbed her and righted her stance. She leaned over the unfamiliar hands, the cool touch blissful to her searing skin. She’d been alone in her apartment. No one entered without her saying so. Not unless they were prepared to face the consequences.

The burning sensation trailed from her throat, dying out, but additional pains spread through her body.

“Young ma- “

“Mast- “

“Hurry- “

“Get the Du- “

“Bro- “

The voices kept coming, falling over each other. Making Lillian’s pounding head even worse. Her disordered mind became fuzzy. She felt as if her brain toyed around with a hammer, trying to see what part of her skull broke easier. It sat, prepared to jump out of her body. The overwhelming flood of sensory information and the constant voices calling to her mixed terribly with the chaotic mess in her head. Lillian grabbed at it and grunted.

Annoyance bubbled in her chest before shock and anger took hold. Her horrified eyes turned to saucers and her lips twisted into a trembling snarl as she tried clawing frantically at her hair but brushing nothing other than short locks. What miserable bastard dared to touch her hair?

Hands grasped her own and pried them from her scalp. She flinched and tried to fling herself from the gentle hands, but the person maintained a firm hold on her.

She tried looking around, but her vision blurred, and her eyes burned.

As the seconds ticked by, controlling her body became harder and harder.

Her legs buckled as they vainly tried holding her weight. Her body sank to the ground after her shaking limbs became too much to handle. The dull thump shook through her body as her bruised knees contacted the ground. She heard the cringing slap as her exposed skin met something other than the wood floors of her apartment. The gentle person who clung to her followed her descent. She gripped their hand and grasped her leg. Lillian leaned forward, resting her head against the floor.

A cold pressure pressed against her forehead as her pinched face merged with the ground.

The cool temperature helped her head, and Lillian gathered a ragged breath. Her chest heaved with each inhale.

Glancing up with narrowed eyes, Lillian observed the blurry scene of people rushing frantically around her. She tried placing them. She had a foggy vision, like a window after a rainy night.

What happened? The dark-coloured surroundings, the walls, the floor, blurry or not. She knew every obscure corner of her shabby apartment, and this was not it.

Her eyes were useless, so Lillian used her ears.

She heard the people, their concern, their annoyance. She focused on the sound of their voices. Tones were too deep, commands came too sure, and voices shook too much. No person she had any interactions with within the last few years of her life matched these voices.

Seven in total, a young boy who left. A man that clung to her, throwing out commands. A woman approached and dropped wearily in front of Lillian. Four others scurried around, hesitant. Their voices were meek with hidden annoyance.

If the miserable bastards didn’t care, they should have left. Not hang around and be a bother to the concerned people that were trying to help.

“A-ah,” Lillian squeezed her lips together and pressed her head back against the floor. She clenched her eyes shut, trying to ignore the minor embarrassment at the pathetic noise.

Two pairs of hands embraced her. A woman’s voice whispered reassurances, and a dainty hand ran through her hair, massaging her scalp. Lillian balled her hands into fists. A person’s face pressed into her shoulder. The man’s voice cracked as he joined the woman in spouting an endless number of empty words.

Lillian felt her body turn feverish with heat and the sticky feeling of too much sweat. A fast-acting poison? More burning pain spiked through her body, and she grunted.

Lillian hated this, hated the pain. She doesn’t know what to compare it to. She’s never felt so much at once.

The bodies of the two that embraced her had a frosty temperature compared to the heat that usually radiated from the skin. A soothing balm to her overheated skin. She pressed herself further into their chilled embrace, breathing out with each icy touch they gave her body.

Her ears perked at the new sounds of rapid steps. The footfalls of the young boy with a new person. A grown person, heavy, the eighth person to join. The woman shifted and moved to Lillian’s side.

The new man settled in front of her. His body heat destroyed the cool air from her two caretakers.

“Le-”

Lifting her head, Lillian’s bleary eyes shook as she tried to look at the person crouched in front of her. To her annoyance, her sight faded and shrunk. She clenched her eyes shut but kept her head high. Instinct clawed at her head, telling her he was important.

“Relax. The more you fight it, the more it hurts. Let it go.” A smooth, thick baritone came from him. One Lillian knew she’d never heard. She catalogued the males she interacted with, and her certainty grew.

Fight it? Lillian took in his words. Fight what? Her brows furrowed, and she grunted at a new, unpleasant spike of pain. Lillian grimaced, curling up even more. She breathed as her head met the floor. Let what go? What was she meant to let go? It made no sense. She wasn’t holding on to anything.

“You’re still fighting it.” The man sounded exasperated. Lillian grew even more annoyed with him. She tried lifting her head to glare. Wanting to cuss him. If she knew what she wasn’t supposed to be fighting, then she wouldn’t fight. Lillian gasped and tilted forward. Her eyes slipped closed.

She fell into a pair of comforting hands.

To be honest, if she was dying, it was a lame way to go. She preferred dying in her sleep. Far less pain that way.

---

Kurio sighed for the hundredth time since his young master had his awakening. He walked through the damp halls of the castle. The other servants gave him a wide berth and anxious glances as they scurried away like rats.

He’d panicked at first when the young master grunted and started clutching at his throat. So did the other servants in the hall, few as they were. The servants feared for their lives. Kurio had feared for his masters.

They didn’t care as much as he had.

His duty was to care for the young master. If his young master had gotten sick or died, he’d have been furious at the culprit and himself for failing to protect one of the people most dear to him.

Kurio was excited, compared to the terror he had felt a few hours before. His lips remained frozen in a terrifying grin.

The hunter class was a dream for most humans. To have a god acknowledge you and grant you the ability to become something more. The young master was one of those now.

Kurio sighed to himself in pity. His grin faded into an exasperated frown, the hunter class always brought danger and quests.

He could feel the grey hairs forming. Worry would be constant in his future.

He was too young for this.

“Can you believe he actually got it?” A maid spoke. Her snarly voice grated Kurio’s ears. His wrathful eyes flicked to where the sound came from.

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A group of careless servants stood gossiping. Their low voices and crude eyes, their curled lips and mocking voices. Kurio hid his annoyance as he passed by them. He thought the Duke of the household was far too lax with the servants. Allowing them to get away with speaking ill of his oldest son. His lips coiled into a menacing smile.

“I would suggest you keep your opinions to yourself while working for this family.” His voice was low but calm, contradicting the sinister expression he bore. “And what are you standing around for? Is there not enough work? Should I find you some?”

The frightened servants scampered away, shooting him fearful and annoyed glances. They could do nothing to him. He was the personal butler to the oldest son. Kurio had more power in this house than them. He smiled as the servant who spoke ill of his young master fell. He expected her ankle to give her problems for a while.

Terrible shame that Kurio wasn’t allowed to kill the pathetic servants.

A faint trickle of a peaceful piano melody playing reached her ears. Not something Lillian expected to hear. Her eyes snapped open. She sat up, alert, in the bed. Lillian’s hands bundled under the thick blanket. Her heart pounded in her ears as her eyes jumped around the room.

Juniper-painted walls with dainty sage patterns. An oak desk standing in the corner with, Lillian shuddered, paperwork scattered on top. Quills and a pot of ink, a small stone creature she couldn’t place. A long, pretty couch with an empty table in front of it. A stone fireplace with a painting of a woman she had no recollection of above it.

Open glass doors lead to a balcony, a farming community behind gigantic stone walls. Dark tiled floors and a giant bed. She frowned at the unfamiliar sight.

After climbing out of the bed, Lillian made her way around the room. Bare feet touched the cold floor. A shiver ran through her body.

She glanced out beyond the balcony. Lillian lifted her hand and rubbed her eyes. She blinked. Her gaze returned to the farming community at a distance far beyond what a average person should see. No, she still had a clear view. She saw them as if they were right in front of her. Lillian shut her eyes. She breathed out.

Opening her eyes, she glanced at the area outside the immediate vicinity of the balcony.

Her eyes fell on the tree with its sturdy branches. She eyed the distance and estimated how far down the bright green grass below was. Jumping to the tree and then to the grass would reduce damage to her body. She stepped out of the room and hung over the railing. The fresh smell of grass and woodland forest enveloped her nose.

She looked from side to side. Lillian gaped, her eyes blew into spheres the size of a soccer ball. The ancient stone walls and looming towers spanned her vision, snatched her breath away. The distant forest with trees stood three times taller than any she’d ever seen. Leaves coloured in hues other than green and the stump was far thicker than it was meant to be. Strange but still beautiful.

Yes, this was not her apartment building.

Lillian tumbled back and leaned against the door frame. She nervously clutched her chest, trying her best to soothe her erratic breathing and thumping heart.

Turning her attention back to the room, Lillian allowed her hands to trail the patterns along the wall. An unfamiliar design. Unique, dainty, and captivating. It swirled, twisted, and danced. Adding personality to the room.

It wasn’t her bedroom, yet she felt like it was. The unusual sense of belonging that settled in her mind piqued her curiosity.

Lillian picked at the decor hanging from the top of the bed, a sheet with glinting little orbs and puffy tassels. She rolled the gold orb between her fingers. It wasn’t real. Her eyes took in all the pieces attached to the sheet. Right?

She pushed open a door and peeked inside. The sight stole her breath. Stepping in, Lillian allowed her eyes to flick around, taking in the marbled space. Her fingers trailed around the gold designs on a basin with a feather-light touch. She salivated at the luxurious-looking bathtub. Glancing to the side, she choked back a scream.

A man clutched at his chest, his terror-filled eyes staring at her. He gripped at the basin, trying to hold himself up.

Straightening her stance, Lillian lifted her hand from the white marble. The man followed suit. She struggled to control her breathing for a few seconds. Panic briefly struck through her chest until she pushed it back.

“Oh, my god.” She breathed out shakily.

His lips formed each word as she spoke them. Lillian stepped closer to the full-body mirror and reached out to poke at it. Her finger and the man’s touched as close as they could, with it being a reflection.

“What the hell.”

She brought her hands to her chest and felt the flat but toned surface. Her heart pounded. Lillian felt as if something was stuck in her throat.

This was not something she expected. Lillian lifted her hands, analyzing them. They were broader than what her old ones had been. She plucked at her clothes, lifting her head to look in the mirror again. The style she was wearing now reminded her of Egypt or ancient Egypt.

Her hair was weird. It made her feel like she was ancient, but her face showed radiant youth. Lillian didn’t even look like she was in her late twenties, let alone thirty-six like she had been.

The click of a door opening sounded.

“Young Master!” the chipper call came. Lillian swallowed back a sound of mild surprise. Her best bet was to play along and figure out what was happening. She needed accurate information. She needed someone to give it to her. Lillian cleared her throat, testing out the voice that accompanied her new body. She’d spoken earlier but was too busy trying to not die of surprise to focus on it.

“In here, I’ll be out in a second.”

The person called out in acknowledgement as Lillian covered her mouth with her hands. Her eyes shook in awe. Her voice. She’d have turned to goo if this was a man she met on the street. How could a person have a voice that hot?

Stepping out of the bathroom, her eyes zeroed in on a young woman. She stood next to the bed. Her hands folded in front of her, and she had a cheerful smile on her sculpted face. The attractive woman’s flowing hair fascinated Lillian. Brilliant blue, so inky that it was almost black. How much dye would she need to keep her hair like that? It is balanced between the two colours. The hairdresser must be a pro. Lillian was kind of jealous.

“I’m happy you’re awake, Young Master,” the woman beamed at her, and Lillian threw a charming smile back. The woman blinked at her as Lillian trailed closer.

She kept the open balcony doors in her direct line of sight.

“Ah.” Lillian rubbed at her neck. She mustered a bashful smile and fluttered her lashes. “What exactly happened?” She kept her gaze soft and leaked curiosity.

“Young Master doesn’t remember? You gained the Hunter Class Young Master! We’re all very excited!” The woman smiled. Her glittering intelligent eyes scrutinized Lillian’s face.

Hunter class? Was she joking? Like that stupid story?

“The pain?” Lillian asked.

“Yes, it’s said to be common for those who become blessed with the class to feel pain as it settles into their body. Usually, the more powerful the god-given skill is, the more painful it is.”

“Right.”

Dropping onto the luxurious bed, Lillian sat in breathless silence for a second before looking up at the Inky-haired beauty. Her eyes were sharp and dark lava in colour. She wore a relaxed style of dress with fabric that gathered and somewhat hung over a corset. Coloured in white, but lined with a shocking deep blue. Lillian could have written it off as the woman matching it with her hair. Only the pin that kept the loose fabric together showed that it was not the case.

The Black shadowed knight. His raised sword and the electric-blue sun illustrated behind him. The house symbol of Hosyn.

“Faier?”

“Yes, Young Master?”

A breath escaped her lips. Lillian was in a novel.

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