The silence that followed my revelation was heavy, thick enough to choke on. The name "Jack the Ripper" had already been spoken by the Generals as the one who had humiliated them, but hearing that he was a legend from my old world, a ghost from a place without magic, seemed to curdle the very air of the throne room.

  I stood there, my fingers twisting the hem of my crisp white apron, feeling the weight of every gaze in the room. I was just a girl who used to count heartbeats in a sterile room; now, I was the bearer of a history that made even the strongest generals of the Demon Realm look pale. My maid uniform, which usually felt like a badge of my new life, now felt like a fragile shell against the darkness I had just described.

  Valerius was the first to break the silence. He adjusted his spectacles, the glass catching the dim purple light from the windows. His expression was one of deep, analytical calculation.

  "Two hundred years," Valerius murmured, his voice echoing softly against the obsidian pillars. "Miss Vespera, if this 'Jack' truly lived two centuries ago in your world, it presents a mechanical impossibility for the reincarnation cycle as we understand it. If he really died 200 years ago, that would mean he’s been reincarnated here for two centuries, which may not be the case. If he was human, there is no way he can live that long, except if he found a forbidden way to halt aging, or if he wasn't reincarnated into a human."

  He paused, his eyes narrowing. "It is extremely rare to be a different species when you get reincarnated. It’s already rare to even be reincarnated with the form you had when you died. That’s even if it was him. Or... he could have been reincarnated recently through some darker means. He is truly a mystery."

  "Knowing that might be interesting, but it doesn't help much," Malphas interrupted.

  I flinched. Malphas hadn't moved from his throne, but the aura radiating from him was like a physical heat. His knuckles were white where he gripped the obsidian armrests. He was beyond livid; he was insulted.

  "All this confirms is that he's not the main culprit," Malphas spat, his voice dropping into a chilling, low register. "If he's truly a foreigner, there’s no way his presence could mask itself even from me. That, and having the ability to disappear and reappear into smoke with distance like that... the ability to summon multiple knives mid-air... able to cut the mana flow of others and mask his presence so thoroughly that even a Demon Lord can't sense it? Yeah, there’s definitely a higher power involved."

  He stood up, the movement so sudden that Lyra jumped. He began to pace the dais like a caged predator, his heavy boots echoing like drumbeats.

  "There must be some kind of buff provided to his servants," Malphas hissed, his red eyes glowing with a dangerous intensity. "Not to mention the Black Rider, Kaelos. He was extremely powerful as well. His ability to erase your memories, to erase an entire town’s history, an entire domain, is a massive feat. And to lead a Demon Lord into a trap? Yes, it didn't work out in the end, but he still fooled me for a bit."

  He stopped and looked at his hands, his jaw tightening. "I could sense his power; though it was no match against mine, I still used my Mystic Eyes to severely weaken him, making his mana so low he could barely do anything. And if it wasn't for that 'Jack,' we could have gotten the full details,. But at least it confirmed one thing: they are working together. And they are working for Vorgath the Despiser."

  The name felt like a curse. Valerius went rigid, and even the boisterous Korgath fell silent.

  "Vorgath... who to all rights should be dead," Malphas finished, his voice trembling with suppressed rage.

  I looked down at my hands. They were trembling. I looked at the soot on my white cuffs, the small tear in my sleeve from our scramble through the mountains. I had worked so hard. I had learned to sense mana, I had faced dragons, I had tried to be a "professional" maid for the man who gave me a second chance at life. But standing here, listening to them talk about ancient, world-ending threats, I felt like that sick girl in the hospital bed all over again.

  I felt useless. All that training, all that effort, and the enemy was still miles ahead of us. My face must have betrayed me, my lip quivered slightly, and I felt a hot sting behind my eyes. I was supposed to be the "strongest maid," but I couldn't even stop a man in a mask from taking our lead. I felt small, just a girl in a maid outfit playing at being important while real monsters tore the world apart. I felt the weight of my own inadequacy pressing down on me, heavier than any gravity spell.

  Malphas stopped his pacing. He looked at me, his sharp gaze catching the way I was trying to hide my face. The atmosphere in the meeting grew incredibly tense; the Generals watched him, their own frustrations simmering. Instead of snapping, Malphas stepped down from the dais, his presence looming over me.

  "Vespera," he said, his voice less like a king and more like the man who had shared tea with me. "Stop that. Your face looks like you've been sentenced to the pits."

  "I... I just feel like I didn't do enough," I whispered, wiping a stray tear with the back of my hand, my voice cracking. "I learned so much on this mission, but in the end, I just watched them get away. All my training... it didn't stop them from hurting Seryna or attacking the home you gave me."

  "You provided the only link to his identity we have," Malphas countered, his presence grounding me. "Without your knowledge, we would be chasing a ghost with no origin. You did your part. Now, do not let your spirit break over the actions of a coward hiding in the smoke."

  Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

  He turned back to the room, the atmosphere turning icy and lethal once more. "Generals! Prepare the defenses. If Vorgath thinks he can haunt my domain from the grave, I will show him why I am the one who survived the Great War. This meeting is over. We prepare for war."

  The Generals bowed, their faces grim. The air in the throne room was thick with the scent of ozone and the looming threat of a dead god's return. I stood by Malphas’s side, clutching my apron, knowing that the peace of my new home was officially over. Even with the lingering feeling of uselessness, I knew one thing: I wouldn't just be a bystander for what was coming next.

  ─── ??☆?? ───

  A week had passed since the name "Jack the Ripper" turned the throne room into a freezer, and since then, the atmosphere of the Black Obsidian Throne had undergone a radical, somewhat terrifying transformation.

  The castle was now operating at, and I’m not joking, 101% maximum security. Don’t even ask why I added the extra one percent; it just feels right. It was as if the very stones of the fortress were holding their breath, pushed beyond their limit. Every corridor was patrolled by gargoyles with eyes that tracked movement like heat-seeking missiles. The kitchens, once a place of savory smells and lighthearted gossip, now looked like a tactical staging area. I went in to grab a ladle yesterday and almost got a spear to the throat because the head chef was currently "practicing his thrusts" while the soup simmered. Even the cooks were heavily armed now.

  Me and Lyra, who were technically just the maids responsible for the cleaning and cooking, hadn't been left out of the preparations. Malphas, or "Scary Dad," as my brain affectionately called him when he wasn't looking, clearly wasn't taking any chances with our safety.

  He had called us both to the dais and handed us each a gift. It was a thin, elegant arm strap made of a material that looked like liquid obsidian.

  "Wear these," he had commanded, his voice deep and absolute. "They are enchanted to stabilize your internal circuits. They will increase your mana capacity by fifteen percent and your mana recovery by thirty."

  I stared at the band on my arm, feeling a cool, steady pulse of energy bleeding into my skin. Lyra, being human like me, looked just as surprised. We were the only two "unpowered" residents of this castle, and this gift was a lifeline. Lyra adjusted her strap over her sleeve, her usual playful smirk returning for a brief second. "Well, Akari, at least if we have to run for our lives, we won't run out of breath so fast, right?"

  But the gifts came with a price: a training schedule that was nothing short of brutal.

  My days were split in two. One day, Lyra would take me aside for what I called "Survival School." Nowadays, her training was more like a classroom setting. She was incredibly knowledgeable about the history of the realms and the theory behind mana flow. Since we were both human, she understood the limitations of my body better than any demon could. She taught me how to conserve energy and how to read the "mood" of the atmosphere to tell if a spell was being cast nearby.

  The other days, however, were for the Butler.

  Valerius might look like a kindly, precise old man whose only concern was the perfect temperature of tea, but damn, is he strong. He might look weak, but he is a monster in a suit. He was tasked to train me personally, and funny enough, when he trains me every second day, it’s not just me he’s training. It’s Lyra and the three Generals, Seryna, Korgath, and Vahn, all at once. When the Generals aren't being put through the ringer by Valerius, they’re taking turns training the regular guards.

  Just to give you an example of how strong Valerius is: we spar with him constantly, and he beats us all without even using a drop of mana. One afternoon, we actually tried to 5-v-1 him, me, Lyra, and the three Generals all attacking at once. He kicked our butts effortlessly, moving like a blur of black cloth and silver hair, parrying Korgath’s massive strength and Seryna’s speed with nothing but a wooden cane.

  Despite the bruises, I did actually feel myself getting a little stronger. It seems the more you know of the power and its history, the easier it is to use it. I was starting to be able to summon a steady spark without my heart feeling like it was going to explode. Though, to be honest, I’m still far from even mastering what you would call the "tutorial level" in my original world. I was a level one character trying to learn how to swing a sword while everyone else was casting meteors.

  While we were busy trying not to get beaten up by the butler, Malphas was playing a much darker game. He had formed ten different spy task force groups, elite units designed for deep-cover reconnaissance, and sent them across the realm to search for any detail on Jack, Kaelos, or the return of the Despiser.

  But the news was grim. Or rather, there was no news. No info had come back at all. Worse, two of those elite groups had gone missing without a trace. They were the best of the best, yet they had simply vanished into the shadows. Malphas’s face grew darker with every passing day, though he immediately replaced the units when he feared they had disappeared, refusing to let the search stop.

  Now, the entire castle is on edge for a different reason.

  Tomorrow is supposed to be a big meeting of the Demon Lords, held right here in this castle. The subject: Vorgath the Despiser and the rising threat of the "Foreigner" assassin. The point is that all the Demon Lords should share their info, if they have any, to stop the realm from sliding into chaos.

  I spent the evening polishing the long, obsidian table in the grand hall. My face reflected in the dark stone, looking pale and tired. I had learned so much this week, about Jack, about mana, about the terrifying power of the man I served, but I still felt like a small girl caught in a storm of giants.

  "Don't rub the finish off, Akari," Lyra said, walking up behind me. She looked tired too, her arm strap glowing faintly through her maid outfit. "The Lords will be here tomorrow. They won't care if the table is shiny if they’re too busy shouting at each other."

  "I just want everything to be perfect," I whispered, my voice echoing in the vast, silent room. "If they see we're prepared... maybe they'll actually work together."

  Lyra sighed, leaning against a pillar. "Demon Lords aren't big on 'working together.' But with Malphas leading the charge? They’ll have to listen. They’re all scared, Akari. Even if they won't admit it, they’re terrified of a ghost coming back to claim his throne."

  I looked at the empty chairs, thinking of the "Jack" I had described, the one who never was caught, the one who lived in the fog. He was here now, in this world, and tomorrow, the fate of the realms would be decided in this very room.

  I gripped my polishing cloth, the 15% mana boost from my arm strap humming against my skin. I was still just a maid. I was still just "tutorial level." But as I looked at the heavy obsidian doors, I knew I wouldn't be hiding in the kitchen tomorrow. I had a part to play in this, even if it was just serving tea to the most dangerous beings in existence.

  The meeting was coming. And the shadow of London’s greatest monster was looming over all of us.