Chapter 52: Two Personalities

Darkness.

Endless darkness, like the deepest nightmare, enveloped the last threads of Luo Ling’s consciousness.

He couldn’t feel his body, as if his soul had been pulled out and was floating in the void.

No up or down, no left or right, no passage of time—only a dead silence of Chaos.

Am I… still alive?

A faint thought, like a pebble thrown into an abyss, sent out a ripple.

What followed was a crushing wave of pain and confusion.

The agony of his body being torn apart and reassembled still lingered at the ends of his nerves. Those cold instruments, bizarre runes, and the face of the Demon Queen Isaillat with her cruel smile…

Memory Fragments, like shards of glass, stabbed his consciousness with pain.

He remembered.

He had been captured, imprisoned in a dungeon by that powerful and evil Demon Queen, and then… dragged into that laboratory filled with ominous energy.

What did she want? What did she do to him?

At that moment, it was as if a crack appeared in the darkness, letting in a faint light.

Luo Ling “looked” toward the source.

It was a strange sensation—he had no eyes, yet he could sense everything clearly.

He saw a room.

Luxurious, cold, filled with the fluctuations of magic.

A faint, strange fragrance lingered in the air.

At the center of the room stood a figure.

Luo Ling’s consciousness trembled violently.

That was… himself?

No, not exactly.

It was a woman’s body.

Tall and slender, with porcelain-white skin that glowed almost translucent under the magical light.

Long, jet-black hair flowed smoothly down to her waist, making her neck appear even more slender and elegant.

Her exquisitely beautiful features were so perfect they seemed sculpted from ice, yet carried an inorganic, chilling indifference that made one’s heart shiver.

Those eyes—once belonging to Luo Ling, perhaps still holding a trace of stubbornness and warmth—were now like the purest obsidian: deep, calm, without a single ripple, containing only absolute obedience and emptiness.

What… what is this?!

Luo Ling’s consciousness screamed in madness, yet no sound came out.

He wanted to rush forward, to question, to understand what was happening, but he was nothing but a strand of consciousness, bound by invisible shackles within this darkness, forced to watch helplessly.

Ling Xia.

A gentle yet icy voice sounded, carrying an irresistible authority.

Luo Ling saw Demon Queen Isaillat step out of the shadows.

She was still unimaginably beautiful, a faint, satisfied smile at her lips, her eyes filled with appreciation—like admiring a perfect work of art.

The female figure—Ling Xia—lowered her head slightly, her movement smooth and precise. Her voice was cold, like jade striking stone, yet utterly emotionless:

Master.

Master?

Luo Ling felt as if he’d been struck by lightning.

That voice, though the tone and timbre had completely changed into a cold female voice, Luo Ling could feel the source was his own transformed body!

Raise your head. Let me look at you.

Isaillat commanded.

Ling Xia obediently raised her head, those hollow black eyes meeting Isaillat’s gaze without the slightest hint of evasion.

Isaillat reached out, gently stroking Ling Xia’s cheek with a touch so intimate it bordered on madness.

So perfect… My masterpiece.

Look at you—so beautiful, so obedient.

Far better than that foolish, stubborn Luo Ling who always thought of resistance.

Luo Ling?

She’s talking about me!

That “Ling Xia” was made by transforming my body?!

Overwhelming fear and anger gripped him.

His body, his identity, everything—had been stolen!

And in its place was this creation named “Ling Xia,” a product of the Demon Queen!

No! That’s my body! You demon! Give me back my body!

Luo Ling crashed frantically against the walls of the Consciousness Space, but it was futile.

His screams went unheard, his struggles unnoticed.

He could only watch, the most pitiful of spectators, forced to witness this absurd and terrifying drama.

He saw Ling Xia serving Isaillat like the most obedient Servant, offering tea, grinding ink, handling scrolls that radiated Dark Energy.

Her actions were precise and efficient, yet utterly lifeless, like a doll programmed for a single purpose.

Isaillat seemed to revel in this sense of control.

She would issue various commands to Ling Xia—sometimes trivial matters, other times magical tasks requiring power.

Luo Ling realized with terror that the body had not only been reshaped but endowed with a powerful force belonging to monsters.

When Ling Xia wielded magic, her movements were fluid and strong, with a cold and beautiful grace.

Do you see, Ling Xia?

Isaillat’s voice seemed to pierce space and time, echoing in Luo Ling’s Consciousness Space.

This is your value.

As my Servant, my weapon, my collection.

You possess new power, a new identity, a supreme position—standing by my side, Isaillat.

Luo Ling’s consciousness shuddered violently.

Who is she speaking to? Ling Xia, or… me?

As for that ‘Luo Ling’ trembling in the corner…

Isaillat’s tone carried a hint of mockery and playfulness.

He’s already dead.

From the moment you accepted transformation, Luo Ling ceased to exist.

Now, the one who lives is you—Ling Xia.

No! I’m not dead! I’m still alive! I’m Luo Ling!

Luo Ling shouted in desperate denial.

But then, another voice sounded within his Consciousness Space—cold, calm, carrying an undeniable certainty:

I am Ling Xia.

I am the monster Servant created by Master.

Luo Ling… is merely a useless data remnant that was purged.

That voice!

It was Ling Xia’s voice!

She… she’s here, too? In the Consciousness Space?

Can she “hear” my thoughts?

Luo Ling “looked” deeper into the Consciousness Space. There, too, stood a figure—a female-shaped consciousness—Ling Xia.

She was like a cold shadow, facing Luo Ling’s own awareness.

Who are you? By what right do you occupy my body?

Luo Ling demanded.

I am Ling Xia.

The consciousness answered calmly.

This body is the vessel Master bestowed upon me.

From the moment of my birth, it has belonged to me.

You, Luo Ling, are nothing but an impurity, a parasite soon to be purified.

Impurity?

Luo Ling was so furious he nearly fainted.

I am the true owner of this body! It was you—Isaillat—who stole everything from me!

Stole?

Ling Xia’s awareness seemed to waver slightly, as if struggling to comprehend an unfamiliar term.

Master possesses supreme power. She can create anything, or destroy anything.

She gave me new life, so I am loyal to her.

This is only natural.

Your resistance, your resentment, are laughable and powerless in the face of absolute strength.

Luo Ling fell silent.

He could not refute it.

Isaillat’s power was indeed overwhelming.

His resistance had been as futile as an insect’s struggle.

Day after day passed.

Luo Ling remained imprisoned in the Consciousness Space, forced to watch as Ling Xia used his body to serve at Isaillat’s side.

Isaillat did not forget him.

Or perhaps, she enjoyed the pain and struggle of Luo Ling’s remaining consciousness, using it to satisfy her twisted pleasure.

She would deliberately mention Luo Ling’s past in front of Ling Xia—his failures, his foolishness.

Ling Xia, look. This is the sword that fool Luo Ling once used.

Isaillat picked up a broken longsword and tossed it carelessly to the floor.

So weak—just like his will.

Ling Xia looked at the sword without expression, as if it meant nothing.

But in the Consciousness Space, Luo Ling felt his heart being ripped apart.

It was once his sword, a companion through many battles—now reduced to an object of mockery.

Look, Master.

Ling Xia’s voice sounded, carrying her unique, cold analysis.

This item’s material is inferior, its energy conduction poor—indeed, it is worthless.

Keeping it would only waste space.

Well said, my good child.

Isaillat smiled in satisfaction.

So, useless things should be discarded, or… completely destroyed.

Just like Luo Ling.

No…

Luo Ling felt helpless.

Even things he once cherished were now meaningless in Ling Xia’s eyes.

Isaillat’s brainwashing was thorough.

She not only instilled loyalty in Ling Xia, but also made her deliberately encounter Luo Ling’s Memory Fragments—memories of pain, failure, and despair.

Look, Ling Xia. These are Luo Ling’s memories.

Isaillat’s voice, like a serpent’s whisper, sounded directly within both Luo Ling and Ling Xia’s awareness.

Betrayed by trusted ones, defeated by enemies, wandering in fear day after day.

Full of suffering and negativity—truly nauseating.

Luo Ling saw those Memory Fragments flicker like images before him:

The anger of betrayal, the humiliation of defeat, the sorrow of losing comrades…

These memories were once a part of his life, and now were used by Isaillat to torment him.

What meaning does such a life hold?

Isaillat’s tone was gentle, almost persuasive.

So full of struggle and pain, yet still ending in such ruin.

And you, Ling Xia—you were born by my side, possess endless lifespan, great power, and my… the Master’s affection.

Everything you have is what that lowly Luo Ling always dreamed of.

Ling Xia’s consciousness remained calm, but Luo Ling felt his own awareness begin to waver under the weight of these words.

It’s true…

His life had been full of hardship and failure.

He had tried, struggled, but in the end, became a prisoner, losing even his body…

No, I can’t think this way!

Luo Ling shook his head, trying to dispel the negativity.

I still have companions waiting for me! I can’t give up!

Companions?

Isaillat sounded as if she’d heard the world’s greatest joke.

Those who abandoned you when you fell?

Those who may already believe you dead and sought new happiness?

Luo Ling, stop deceiving yourself.

In this world, the only one who will never abandon you, the only one you can rely on forever, is me.

If you completely cast aside the foolish identity of ‘Luo Ling’ and fully accept yourself as Ling Xia, you will gain true peace and power.

Isaillat’s voice was filled with temptation.

Think about it.

No more pain, no more struggle, no more failure.

All you need is obedience, and loyalty, and you can have everything.

At the same time, Ling Xia’s consciousness began to “actively” communicate with Luo Ling.

Luo Ling, give up.

Her voice was cold, yet strangely persuasive.

Resistance is meaningless.

Master’s power cannot be opposed.

The more you resist, the greater your suffering.

Look at me.

Ling Xia continued.

I don’t need to think, don’t need to worry.

All I must do is carry out Master’s commands.

If Master is satisfied, I exist.

This feeling… is peaceful, stable.

No fear, no confusion.

Luo Ling watched “his” body at Isaillat’s side—enjoying exquisite food, dressed in luxurious robes, wielding great power…

All of it was meant to be his—or at least, exchanged at his expense.

Emotions tangled within him.

He saw Ling Xia learning more powerful dark magic under Isaillat’s guidance.

The fluid motions, the overwhelming power, filled Luo Ling with both fear and… a touch of yearning.

If he possessed such power, could he protect those he wished to protect?

Would he never fail again?

See? Power.

Isaillat’s voice was like a spell.

If you completely become Ling Xia, all of this will be yours.

You won’t merely “watch” her possess it—you will possess it yourself.

Luo Ling’s consciousness began to blur.

Isaillat’s gentle whispers, Ling Xia’s cold persuasion, the magnified pain of memories, the “beauty” Ling Xia possessed—all entwined around his soul like countless threads, pulling and twisting him.

Who was he?

Luo Ling? That failed, pained, empty Luo Ling?

Or… could he become Ling Xia? The strong, beautiful Ling Xia, loved by her Master?

Luo Ling… is already dead…

A weak thought, like a seed, took root and grew in the depths of his mind.

Give up… resistance is useless…

If I become Ling Xia… I can find peace…

He saw the darkness of the Consciousness Space devouring him, while the figure representing Ling Xia grew clearer and stronger.

His resistance grew weaker, his cries more feeble.

His once firm beliefs, like a sandcastle washed by the tide, began to collapse.

He started unconsciously viewing the world from Ling Xia’s perspective.

This luxurious cage no longer seemed so unbearable.

Even Isaillat’s occasional “gentleness” seemed to carry a touch of “affection.”

The power and status Ling Xia possessed… truly were alluring.

He watched as Ling Xia, in the body that once belonged to him, nestled in Isaillat’s arms, listening to the Demon Queen whisper her grand visions of conquering the world.

Isaillat’s fingers gently stroked Ling Xia’s long black hair, her touch both affectionate and possessive.

My dear Xiya, you’ll stay by my side forever, won’t you?

Isaillat asked softly.

Ling Xia tilted her head slightly.

For the first time, Isaillat’s figure seemed to reflect in those hollow black eyes.

She nodded lightly, her voice cold, yet with a barely perceptible trace of dependence.

Yes, Master.

Ling Xia will remain by your side forever, until the end of time.