Ray sat alone in his chamber, the cool night breeze brushing through the open window as the moonlight spilled over the marble floors like a silent ghost.
He hadn't slept.
Couldn't sleep.
His silver eyes, now full of intensity and sharpness, stared at the ring on his finger—the same obsidian black ring with a deep crimson gem embedded at its core. His mother's last gift. The only thing left of her. It had never responded to anyone. Not the royal mages. Not the priests. Not the scholars. It refused to be removed, and its nature remained a mystery to all—except now.
Now, Ray knew.
It was a summoning item.
A link.
A contract.
For the Merchant of the Void.
Ray leaned back against his chair, exhaling deeply. His thoughts were a tangled knot—emotions whirling, twisting, and snapping against each other.
"I made a deal… with an otherworldly creature."
The memory of that moment—standing at the edge of death, the execution blade above him, the sky blue and mocking—flooded his mind.
The man had appeared from a rift in reality, dressed like a noble from a foreign land, with that calm smile and silky voice. A creature far beyond anything that existed in this world. Neither god nor demon—something older. Something that operated on rules unknown to man.
A being who called himself… a Merchant.
Ray stood up, pacing now.
He remembered how, in his past life, during his time as a senior advisor to the royal court, he had investigated a string of strange events: ordinary people suddenly developing monstrous strength, talents far exceeding their natural capacity, sudden genius in swordsmanship or magic. They rose like meteors—then fell just as quickly. Madness. Curses. Death.
None survived long.
At first, Ray thought it was coincidence. Perhaps divine intervention or a hidden sect's experiment. But then he found the records. Hidden, dusty scrolls buried in the vault of forbidden knowledge, sealed behind multiple ancient arrays. In those records, there were whispers… stories of a mysterious entity who made "deals" with humans. People who asked for strength, wisdom, beauty, or power. And in return… they gave something precious. Their memories. Their loved ones. Their names. Their futures.
It always ended the same.
Regret.
Madness.
Death.
Ray had pieced it together then—but it was too late. He had no proof, and the mysterious entity never left a trace.
But now… now he had met him.
In person.
He touched the ring again.
"Was this ring the key all along? Mother… who were you, really?"
That question haunted him more than anything else. His mother had vanished when he was barely twelve. No body. No note. No signs of struggle. Only this ring left behind and a promise: "Ray, never take this off. One day, it will protect you."
Back then, he thought she meant it figuratively.
Now…?
"What even is this ring?" he muttered, staring at the glowing gem. "And why did she have it?"
He remembered his mother's soft smiles, her distant eyes, how sometimes she'd whisper in a language no one else could understand. How she could read ancient texts without studying them. How even the emperor seemed afraid of her presence.
She wasn't ordinary.
Not by any stretch.
And now Ray was certain—this ring wasn't just a keepsake. It was a relic. A contract token. And if his mother possessed it, then maybe… just maybe… she had made a deal too.
Or worse—she had known the Merchant personally.
Ray's fists clenched.
He didn't believe in coincidences anymore.
---
A knock at the door pulled him from his thoughts.
"Come in," he said.
The door creaked open, and George entered, carrying a tray with warm tea and documents. The ever-loyal butler bowed with practiced grace.
"Your Highness," George said softly, "your schedule for the week. Also… a reminder. The Awakening Ceremony will take place in seven days."
Ray's expression didn't change, but something flickered in his gaze.
Seven days.
That was when it all began.
The lie.
The betrayal.
The fall.
But this time, he would be ready.
"Thank you, George," Ray said, accepting the documents.
The older man lingered for a moment. "Is something troubling you?"
Ray looked up at the man who had died mysteriously in his past life—strangled in the palace archives, blamed as a traitor. Ray had mourned him quietly, doubted the official story… but never had the chance to prove anything.
And now he was alive again.
Ray's expression softened.
"No," he lied. "Just preparing."
George nodded, bowed, and exited silently.
Ray waited until the door shut.
Then his expression changed.
Cold. Focused.
He turned to the papers on his desk and pulled out a scroll he had hidden earlier. He unrolled it, revealing sketches and names—noble houses, officials, court mages, priests.
All potential suspects.
"Someone tampered with my Awakening."
He knew it wasn't a curse. That was the lie they wanted him to believe.
Someone had used advanced spirit-sealing techniques to suppress his affinity. Just enough to make it appear like he had no spiritual talent. A perfect way to discredit him and push him out of succession.
Who would benefit from that?
The first name was obvious: Crown Prince Aldren.
Eldest son of the emperor. Cold, calculating, and deeply territorial. Aldren hated threats to his rule—and Ray, the third prince, had once been considered a genius child.
But Aldren wouldn't have done it personally.
He was too cautious. Too insulated.
No, he would've used someone else. A priest. A court mage. Someone involved in the Awakening Ceremony.
Another suspect: the High Priest Verion.
He had overseen the ceremony. Too many things had gone "wrong" that day under his guidance. He claimed the spirits had abandoned Ray. That it was divine will.
And then… there was Lady Mireya.
One of the emperor's favored concubines and a master manipulator. Her son, Prince Henry, had once been Ray's rival for political attention. After Ray fell, Henry's influence surged.
Ray exhaled slowly.
There were too many pieces to move at once.
But he didn't need all of them right now.
He just needed one to take the bait.
---
The Trap
Ray stood in front of the mirror the next day, dressed in modest training robes. His expression was neutral, even innocent. The same boy he used to be—obedient, hopeful, unaware.
He would play the role again.
He would attend every event, speak with the priests, act excited about the ceremony, smile when the mages tested his affinity.
He'd let them think history was repeating.
He'd lower their guard.
But behind the mask, everything was different.
Ray had already sent anonymous messages to a few lower-ranking officials—whispers about a "rare spirit root" awakening within him. He made sure the right ears would hear of it. He planted just enough hope, just enough uncertainty, to make his enemies nervous.
"If they plan to sabotage me again," he thought, "they'll act soon."
And this time, Ray would be watching.
Every servant.
Every handler.
Every artifact.
He had already bribed two assistant mages to report anything unusual.
He placed subtle magical seals around his own room—runes that would trigger if any cursed energy or foreign spiritual interference was used nearby.
Even the water he drank and the food he ate were now secretly tested by loyal shadow agents—former friends who still remembered his kindness in the past.
Ray was weaving a performance, and his stage was the palace itself.
---
But amid all the planning, one thought continued to haunt him.
The Merchant.
Why him?
Why offer a second chance?
Ray had been powerful before, yes—but he was far from the strongest. He wasn't the most spiritual, or the most ruthless. Just a broken prince at death's door.
"What do you gain from saving me?" Ray murmured aloud, staring at the ring again.
It didn't respond.
He wondered if the Merchant was watching now. Waiting. Amused by his struggle.
Ray had offered nothing during the deal—only his desperate plea. Was that the price?
Desperation?
Could it be… that the Merchant fed on regret?
On pain?
Or… maybe Ray was part of a larger plan.
He didn't like that idea.
Ray had always believed in controlling his own fate. But if he had unknowingly become a piece in something greater—
Then he needed to know what game was being played.
And soon.
---
Ray rose from his seat as the palace bells chimed, echoing through the halls. A summons from the emperor.
He would go.
He would smile.
And play the fool again.
But this time, he was walking into the Awakening Ceremony with his eyes wide open.
Let them come.
Let them try to ruin him again.
He was ready.
And whoever moved first—
Would expose themselves.
And when they did…
Ray would be there.
Watching.
Waiting.
And he would strike.
This time, it was their turn to fall.