NIWA 25

Chapter : 25

I slowly opened my eyes, feeling dazed.

My body was floating as if suspended in a vast, pitch‑black space.
Nothing existed there—only the thin white light that wrapped lightly around me.

All the muscles in my body loosened, a wave of languid comfort washing over me, and my eyelids drifted shut.
When they opened again, a girl in a white dress stood in front of me.

She slowly approached and cupped my cheeks with both hands.

The moment my eyes met her blue ones, the endlessly deep darkness around us shifted in an instant into the edge of a cliff.

The girl vanished without a trace.

At the same time, the space beneath my feet warped and began to tear open.

I had never seen one forming with my own eyes before—because of how dangerous they were, devouring everything around them as they expanded—but I knew exactly what it was.

A crack.

The crack widened, sucking in everything nearby.
Before long, it swallowed even something falling from the cliff above.

Boom!

With a deafening crash, a carriage plunged from the cliff and was sucked into the crack.
My eyes flew open.

It happened in a blink, but I clearly saw a girl through the carriage window.

A girl who looked exactly like the one who had just held my face.

Cracks consume everything around them.
If a person is unlucky enough to be dragged inside, their chances of survival are almost nonexistent—most people simply assume they die.
But on the rare occasions someone did survive, they reappeared not from the same crack, but from a different one that opened elsewhere, after spewing out a number of monsters—for reasons still unknown.

Because of that, researchers learned that all cracks are somehow connected.
But that was all they ever managed to discover.
Every survivor returned so insane that normal life was impossible, and they suffered seizures at the mere mention of cracks or monsters.

Without thinking, I reached my hand toward the crack the girl disappeared into.

…

My eyes opened.

Morning sunlight leaked through the curtains, illuminating the room.

“A dream…”

Of all days, why did I have to dream about cracks today?
Nothing could be more ominous.

As I tried to sit up, a bolt of pain shot through my neck and I groaned.

I’d fallen asleep slumped over my desk while making a present for Lillia.
Apparently your neck can hurt this badly just from that.

I rolled my stiff neck with a few cracks and clicks, then pushed aside the scattered pieces of magic stone and picked up a pair of faintly glowing earrings.

Held to the light, the purple mana stones shimmered, thin strands of mana twisting inside like tangled spider silk.

I placed them carefully into the velvet case I’d prepared and set it on the desk.

Even with a solution in hand, I didn’t feel relieved.
Today was Lillia’s birthday, after all.
Who would be happy watching their father “die”—even if it was only drug‑induced—on their birthday?
And while I had warned her brother, Viscount Strien, ahead of time, I hadn’t told Lillia at all.

I closed my eyes.

“…Hah.”

I needed to clear my head.

No amount of fretting would change what had to be done.
And quitting halfway wasn’t an option.
Better to think of nothing at all.

Shaking off my thoughts, I went to Sierra’s study and knocked.
A half‑dead voice told me to come in.

Papers were piled chaotically across her desk—she must’ve been sorting documents.

“Oh, you’re here?”

Buried halfway in paperwork, Sierra sprang to her feet the moment she saw me, her eyes shining like she’d found a savior.

“Where do you think you’re going? I’ll explain the medicine, and then you’re going right back to work. That pile is a mountain.”

“…But—”

Zap.

Her flimsy resistance evaporated immediately.

A Sierra who avoids work really picked an ideal aide.

After her aide bowed to me and departed, Sierra rummaged through her drawers for a long while, shoved the document piles aside, and placed a small crystal vial on the table.

Inside was a clear liquid that could easily be mistaken for water.

“…This is it?”

“Yep. The effect is certain, so don’t worry. Just down it in one go. He’ll wake up about a week later.”

I carefully picked up the vial.

“Does it act immediately? He’ll collapse the moment he drinks it?”

Sierra nodded.

“It’ll spread through his whole body within a minute or two. Faster if it takes well. Then all bodily functions enter a suspended state.”

“…Suspended?”

“I explained it roughly to the Duke, but—
Remember how elves use this as a healing potion?
I’m not too clear on the details, but apparently in elves it moves their skin tissue to regenerate wounds.
In humans it doesn’t move tissue—it completely shuts down the organs.
So a human who drinks it goes into a deathlike trance, and when they wake up, their body is exactly as it was a week earlier.”

A theory I’d heard before, about freezing humans in stasis with magic.

“Anyway, the effect is practically instantaneous, so time it well.”

I nodded.

“Okay, that’s all for the potion. Now—time to glam you up!”

“…What?”

Sierra smiled wickedly.

“You’re going to a banquet. Of course you can’t go plain. What time did the prince say he’s picking you up?”

“Four… Wait—Sierra!”

Sparkles lit up her eyes, and before I finished answering she had seized my wrist and dragged me out of the office.

“My lady!!! Come back!!! Do you know how many documents are piled up?!”

“Lien’s going to the ducal banquet today!!! If I leave her alone she’ll show up wearing a robe again!!! Are you trying to shame me?!”

“Why is that—your shame…?”

Not sure whether she was thrilled to dress me up or thrilled to escape paperwork, Sierra ignored her aide’s anguished screams and hummed cheerfully as she hauled me toward the dressing room.

And I screamed at the sheer number of dresses she made me try on.

Two hours later—

“If we were going back to the first dress anyway, why did I try on so many…”

Wearing the very first dark navy gown, I slumped on the sofa, utterly drained.

“This wasn’t even that many. You’re fun to dress up. Come on, sit—makeup time.”

By the time four o’clock came—the prince’s arrival—Sierra’s work had transformed me completely.

My black hair was curled and pinned with layered jewel‑studded hairpins that glimmered faintly; shimmering powder dusted my hair.
My already pale skin had been made porcelain white, my eyes elongated into a languid catlike gaze, and my lips tinted a soft rose.

“I kept it restrained—tonight’s star is Lady Strien.”

Reality wavered a little, so I poked my cheek.
The girl in the mirror poked hers back.

“Have a good time. And be careful with the potion.”

I tucked the crystal vial and the earrings for Lillia into my dress and nodded.

Sierra watched me, a faint wry smile on her face.

“At last—the first step.”

I caught a glimpse of myself reflected in her black eyes.
My own lips curved—I was probably smiling the same way she was.

A contract with the prince.
A false pact with the crown prince.

But today was the first real step toward revenge.

“Yeah.”

I nodded quietly, slowly.

Sierra—the one who, together with Zema, pulled me out of that back alley.

I never imagined we’d become friends, but Sierra had watched me from the moment I entered the Tower—watched me coughing blood as I gambled my life learning to control mana.
I wasn’t much different now, but back then I was all fire and fury—stubbornness and hatred driving me to master spirit arts and summon spirits, fueled only by spite and loathing for the ducal house, the crown prince, and the emperor.

Since I lacked the natural affinity other spiritists had, Zema struggled to teach me, and I fought tooth and nail to keep up.

“I’ll be back, Sierra.”

“…Yeah. Let’s grab a drink later.”