Kenneth found himself running through the rice fields, the familiar scent of earth and open air filling his lungs. The countryside stretched endlessly before him, a vivid reflection of the place where he’d grown up before moving to the city. The sun hung low in the sky, casting a golden hue over the landscape.

  He recognized this place instantly, yet something felt off. He was in his child form, laughing and playing with friends, but his movements were not entirely his own. It was as if he were watching from inside his body, unable to fully control it, like a passenger in his own memories.

  In the distance, he saw his parents standing by the doorway of their home, their familiar figures bathed in the warm glow of the house’s light. His mother waved at him, her voice carrying over the fields. “Kenneth! Come inside, we have a guest.”

  The warmth in her tone pulled him forward, and he ran toward the house, his small feet kicking up dirt as he approached. At the door, his mother smiled at him, a soft, comforting expression that eased the strange unease lingering in his chest.

  “Go greet him,” she said gently, gesturing toward the living room.

  Curious, Kenneth stepped inside, the familiar creak of the wooden floor beneath his feet grounding him. In the living room, a figure sat on the sofa, dressed in elegant, noble attire. His posture was composed, his presence commanding, and yet there was something unsettlingly familiar about him.

  “Hello!” Kenneth began, his voice small and distant, as though coming from somewhere far away. “Nice to meet you…”

  The man stood, his sharp gaze locking onto Kenneth’s. There was an intensity in his eyes that sliced through the dreamlike haze, grounding Kenneth in an instant.

  The stranger stepped closer, bending down so their eyes were level. A faint, knowing smile played on his lips.

  “Wake up, kid,” he said, his voice sharp and crystal clear—jarring in contrast to the muffled world around them.

  Before Kenneth could react, the man snapped his fingers, and the world around him dissolved. The warm fields, his home, the comfort of familiarity—all of it shattered like glass, leaving only darkness.

  Kenneth jolted awake, his heart racing as the fragments of his dream slipped into place. The memory of the man—the First King—lingered in his mind, sharp and vivid.

  He blinked, his childlike form reminding him of the potion’s effects. As his eyes adjusted, he took in his surroundings: a simple room lined with beds, the morning light filtering through the windows.

  Children moved around him, silently tidying their beds and heading out. Kenneth turned to the boy beside him, ready to ask a question, but stopped short. The boy’s face was blank, his eyes dull and lifeless—just like the other children.

  A chill ran down Kenneth’s spine. They’re all under the spell. He glanced down at his own hands, realizing the truth. And so was I.

  The dream resurfaced. That guest… the First King. Did he break the brainwashing?

  How long had he been under her control? The thought made his stomach churn. I hope this mission wraps up before I revert back.

  Kenneth forced himself to follow the others, descending the stairs with careful, calculated steps. The house felt like an orphanage—long tables stretched across the dining area, the wooden furniture worn but sturdy. He glanced out the window and saw nothing but an isolated stretch of countryside. How will they find me in a place like this?

  “Mother!”

  The children’s chorus echoed through the room, and Kenneth stiffened as they ran toward a woman standing in the dining hall. She smiled warmly, her arms outstretched as the children swarmed her, their dazed expressions unnervingly eager.

  Kenneth’s stomach twisted at the sight. She’s the one who did this to them.

  Swallowing his unease, he mimicked the others, walking forward with outstretched arms. When it was his turn to embrace her, he forced himself to hug her briefly, his skin crawling at the contact.

  The woman looked down at him, her smile unwavering but her eyes sharp and scrutinizing. Kenneth’s heart pounded as he met her gaze. For a moment, he thought she’d seen through him, but he forced himself to smile, mirroring the vacant expressions of the others.

  Kenneth stepped back, blending in with the group again. It’s disgusting… everything about her is disgusting.

  ＊＊＊

  It was bedtime, but Kenneth couldn’t sleep. The day had been a grueling exercise in pretending to be under the woman’s spell, and his mind churned with worry. He still hadn’t seen Lucy. Is she okay?

  Lying in the darkness, surrounded by the rhythmic breathing of the other children, Kenneth knew this might be his only chance to look around. Quietly, he slipped out of bed, careful not to make a sound as he padded across the room and down the creaking stairs.

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  The house was silent, the only sound his soft footsteps echoing in the stillness. The faint glow of moonlight filtered through the windows, guiding his way. As he reached the ground floor, a dim light caught his attention. It seeped from beneath a closed door at the end of the hall.

  Kenneth moved closer, his breath catching as he heard a muffled sound—a child’s faint, pained moan. His heart pounded as he pressed himself against the door, peeking through the narrow gap.

  What he saw made his blood run cold.

  Lucy lay on a table, her small body limp and pale. The woman stood over her, one hand hovering above Lucy’s forehead. Her fingers curled unnaturally, as though pulling something invisible from within. Her face was twisted in a grotesque smile, her eyes gleaming with a hunger that made Kenneth’s stomach churn.

  “Ahh,” the woman murmured, her voice dripping with satisfaction. “As expected from the Luminel bloodline—such rich pnevma. After feasting on mere Commoners, it’s been ages since I’ve tasted something this… exquisite.”

  Kenneth clamped a hand over his mouth to stifle the gasp that threatened to escape. She’s extracting pnevma. His chest tightened with horror as the realization sank in.

  Before Kenneth could act, another figure stepped into view. Cloaked in dark fabric with a mask obscuring his face. His voice was low and restrained, but there was an unmistakable edge to it.

  “My Arch Lord,” the man began, his tone measured and sharp, “this wasn’t part of the agreement. Harvesting pnevma from the Elemental families requires explicit permission”

  Lust froze for a moment, her long, slender hand hovering Lucy's limp form. Slowly, she turned to face him, her lips curling into a sly, dangerous smile. “Permission?” she purred, her voice thick with mockery. “Since when do I, of all people, need permission?”

  The man's gaze flickered briefly to Lucy before snapping back to Lust. “She's from the Luminel family,” he said evenly. “If Arch Sloth learns what you've done—”

  Lust's sharp laugh caught off, echoing through the storm like a blade. “Sloth?” she repeated, tilting her head with exaggerated amusement. “The great Sloth, who stirs from his shadow only when it suits him? Do you honestly think he cares about something like this?”

  “He doesn't notice because he trusts us to honor the agreements,” the man countered, his voice growing firmer. “If he finds out you've violated them, there will be consequences—even for you.”

  For a split second, Lust's expression faltered, a shadow passing over her face. But then her smile returned, sharper and more menacing. She stepped toward him, closing the distance in an instant.

  “You're afraid of Sloth?” she murmured, her voice soft yet brimming with mock tenderness. Her hand rose, brushing lightly against the edge of his jaw. “How pathetic.”

  The man stiffened, but before he could react, her fingers slid to his neck, tightening like a vice. The playful tone in her voice vanished, replaced by a low, venomous hiss. “Do you think Sloth cares about what I do? That he would come to me?” Her grip tightened further, cutting off his air. “Let me make something clear—you're nothing but a servant, and I will do as I please.”

  The man's hand clawed desperately at her wrist, his voice faltering under the crushing pressure. “If… he finds out… he… won't overlook this,” he gasped, his words choking out through strained breaths.

  Lust's eyes darkened, her playful mask slipping further as the room seemed to grow colder. Finally, with an irritated click of her tongue, she shoved him backward, releasing him with a dismissive flick of her wrist.

  He stumbled, clutching his neck and gasping for air.

  “Then report me,” she sneered, her voice icy and dripping with disdain. “Run along and tattle to Sloth if you must. But don't think for a second I'll let go of this girl. She's mine.”

  She turned back to Lucy, her focus fully on her prey once more. The man, still catching his breath, glared at her but remained silent, knowing there was nothing more he could do.

  Without hesitation, she resumed her ritual, placing her hand on Lucy’s head. Kenneth’s stomach churned as he watched from his hiding spot. Lust’s face twisted in a grotesque mix of satisfaction and hunger as a faint, glowing thread of pnevma began to draw out from Lucy.

  Kenneth sank to the floor, trembling. In his current child form, his fire magic was out of reach. He clenched his fists, frustration building as the oppressive energy in the room pressed against him. Lust and the masked man radiated an aura of power that was overwhelming. I can’t fight them—not like this. We need to get out of here.

  A sudden, piercing scream shattered the tension—Lucy’s voice.

  Kenneth froze, his heart racing as the sound reverberated through the hall.

  He peered through the door just in time to see a brilliant magical seal flare to life around Lucy. The air thickened as a force erupted outward, sending Lust and her accomplice flying against the walls. Both crumpled to the ground, unconscious.

  The room fell deathly silent. Kenneth hesitated for a moment, then pushed the door open and stepped inside cautiously. His gaze fell on Lucy, lying still on the table, surrounded by the faint glow of the seal.

  What just happened? Kenneth’s thoughts raced as he moved closer. Reaching out, he touched the shimmering mark hovering above her.

  The seal dissolved at his touch, fading into the air like smoke.

  Realizing this was his only chance, Kenneth quickly hoisted Lucy onto his back. Her small head lolled against his shoulder as he adjusted her weight, his own child-sized frame straining under the effort.

  He cast one last glance at Lust and the masked man, ensuring they were still unconscious, before slipping out of the room.

  Navigating the dim corridors, Kenneth moved as fast as his small legs could carry him. Every step was a struggle, his body threatening to give out under Lucy’s weight. I have to keep going. I can’t stop now.

  The faint glow of the front gate came into view, and hope surged through him. But as he approached the exit, his body jolted backward as if he’d hit an invisible wall. Both he and Lucy tumbled to the ground.

  Kenneth groaned, quickly sitting up to steady Lucy against the wall. Breathing heavily, he reached out toward the gate again, his hand pressing against an invisible barrier. Panic set in as he felt along the edge of the fence, searching for an opening. But the barrier stretched across every inch, unyielding.

  We’re trapped, Kenneth realized, dread sinking into his chest. His breaths quickened as he scanned the area, his mind racing. There has to be a way out. There has to be.

  But the oppressive energy of the barrier loomed, and for the first time, he felt the weight of hopelessness begin to settle over him.