Owen woke from a damp, heavy darkness.
No, it seemed she should be called Flora now.
Her eyelashes fluttered slightly, as if they had been lightly touched.
She first heard her own heartbeat — light and unfamiliar, unlike the steady, powerful rhythm in her memory. This caused her to frown involuntarily.
She opened her eyes, and her gaze fell upon a soft, golden magic lamp. Its light was gentle, unlike anything the demon race would use, as light as if wrapped in fog.
She was stunned for a few seconds, her consciousness slowly crawling back into her body. Then, she subconsciously sat up.
The movement was too fast, and her long hair poured down her shoulders. The strands were incredibly soft, like being brushed by a cloud.
Flora froze for a moment, looking down to grab a lock of hair. The white, glowing strands slid between her fingertips, turning into a faint, hazy purple, like thin clouds dyed by the morning sky.
“This isn’t my hair,” Flora whispered. Her voice was light and soft, yet carried clear unease.
She pulled back the covers to get out of bed, freezing the moment her feet touched the floor. They weren’t the feet she knew; they were slender, fair, and as light as weightless porcelain.
She tried to stand straight, but her center of gravity shifted, and she almost fell, only steadying herself by grabbing the bedpost just in time.
Flora’s fingers gripped the wooden post tightly, her lips turning white. Her heart raced even more chaotically because of the unfamiliar body.
Supporting herself against the bed, she walked step by step toward the mirror. Every step was cautious, as if she were stepping onto the edge of an unfamiliar world.
Coming before the mirror, she lifted her head, and the young girl in the mirror came into view. The girl’s skin was as white as snow, her long hair falling smoothly, and a layer of fine silver light mixed into her pale golden eyes. She looked as if she were eternally surrounded by a soft glow.
She stared at her reflection for a while, her fingers trembling slightly. She seemed afraid to touch her reflection, yet compelled to confirm it. Finally, she reached out and touched the glass. The cold sensation made her spine stiffen.
“This isn’t me,” she whispered. Her voice was light, but it sounded as if she were barely suppressing her emotions. “How did it become like this…?”
Just as she took a step back, a deep, gentle voice suddenly sounded from behind her. “Are you awake?”
Flora’s heart skipped a beat, and she whipped her head around.
Ilya was sitting by the edge of the bed, looking as if she had been sitting there quietly for a long time. Her deep blue hair was scattered over her shoulders, and her silver eyes watched Flora quietly.
The warmth in those eyes made Flora unable to tell for a moment whether they were familiar or strange.
She instinctively sucked in a breath, her voice filled with obvious panic. “You… when did you get there?”
“Ever since you passed out,” Ilya stood up. Her movements were natural yet as light as flowing water. “I’ve been here the whole time.”
Flora was stunned for a few seconds, as if something were choking her. Then, her emotions were gradually pushed up by fear and confusion. She raised her voice. “Why… why have you been staring at me?!”
“Because you would be afraid when you woke up,” Ilya said in a flat tone. “So, I kept watch.”
“You!” Flora’s emotions suddenly surged into her throat. “Even if you were keeping watch, you should have said something! This is… this is too strange!”
As she spoke, she realized her voice was becoming more and more unfamiliar. That soft lilt made her even more panicked. She tried to suppress it. “And what’s the deal with… with me?! Why did I become like this?!”
Ilya took a step closer. Flora immediately backed away, her foot hitting the mirror frame, nearly causing her to stumble. Her breathing was erratic, but she forced herself to say, “Don’t come near me.”
Ilya didn’t stop. She walked right up to Flora and gently brushed aside a stray lock of hair. “Do you feel uncomfortable?”
“No… it’s not just that!” Flora inhaled, her chest heaving visibly. She forced herself to calm down, but the more she spoke, the more confused she became. “The way I am… this isn’t me at all! I was originally…”
She grit her teeth and shouted with all her strength, “I WAS ORIGINALLY A MAN!!!”
The air stayed still for half a second.
Ilya’s expression didn’t change. She only said softly, “Not anymore. Now, you are Flora Vilantia, the princess of the demon tribe.”
“The princess of the demon tribe?” Flora was completely ignited by those words. “How can you say that?! What did you do to me?! Why am I like this?!”
She was angry and panicked; all her emotions were squeezed together. She screamed with a suppressed, sharp voice, “Did you turn me into this?! You — “
“Flora.”
Ilya’s voice was steady, yet it carried a certain power that instantly silenced the air.
Flora was stunned for a moment and instinctively retorted, “Don’t call me that! I’m Owen!”
However, just as she finished speaking, Ilya raised her hand and lightly tapped the air with her fingertip.
In an instant, a pressure as cold as metal, yet invisible and colorless, weighed down.
It wasn’t pain; it was the sensation of her spirit being pinned down. It was as if some cold hand had grabbed the back of her neck, forcing the sound in her throat to be cut off halfway.
Flora’s pupils shriveled, and she remained motionless. Her breathing became noticeably rapid.
Ilya’s voice remained gentle. “Don’t scream.”
Flora stared at her, fear appearing in her eyes for the first time.
It wasn’t a panicky fear, but an instinctive, suppressed terror.
Ilya withdrew her hand, and the pressure vanished instantly.
The temperature returned to normal as Ilya pulled back. “I didn’t like what you just said.”
“Which… which part…” Flora’s voice was so thin it was almost inaudible.
“You said I turned you into this,” Ilya said indifferently. “That’s inaccurate. Don’t say it again.”
Flora was stunned, her face slightly flushed from suppression, looking as if she were afraid to breathe.
But she wasn’t truly afraid yet. Her personality was stubborn by nature, and she hadn’t fully realized the danger.
So, after a brief silence, she shouted once more.
“Then tell me what happened! Is it not your fault that I became like this?! Why give me a name and surname from the demon race?!”
Her voice grew higher and higher, her words becoming more chaotic. Her eyes were full of flushed resistance and an inability to accept the situation.
The look in Ilya’s eyes finally changed. Her gaze lowered by a few millimeters, like a silent shadow.
In the next instant, a force as sharp as a blade pressed against the skin.
Ilya didn’t raise her hand again.
She simply stood there, her piercing gaze landing on Flora.
A sound, almost inaudible, like space itself cracking, rang out.
Flora felt as if a cold hand had squeezed her heart. Her legs felt so weak she almost knelt. She could no longer make a sound; her breathing was pressed into sharp, broken gasps, and her chest hurt as if blocked by a stone.
“Ah!”
Flora felt pain all over her body, as if thousands of needles were piercing her skin. A hissing sound echoed in her ears, feeling as though it would pierce her eardrums.
All sorts of perceptions flooded Flora’s brain, but she couldn’t think about anything. Only one word remained in her mind.
‘Pain!’
‘It hurts so much…’
“Ugh…” The pain caused Flora’s consciousness to gradually blur, and she could only let out a small whimper.
“No… no… stop… I beg you…” Flora’s trembling voice came out in fits and starts. It was very weak, so weak it would scatter in the wind.
This heart-piercing pain was not something the current Flora could bear. Instinctively, she began to beg for mercy.