Naomi underestimated the power of his family aura. He had believed he could withstand the trials of this world, but the harsh reality was becoming painfully clear – he was far weaker than he thought.
Thanks to Seraphina, he had safely reached the Chamber. Exhausted, his mind swirled with thoughts of his next challenge – defeating Murmin Darkstar. Yet, a darker question lingered in the back of his mind. Why was he even here? Back in his own world, he had purpose – hunting down thugs and gangs, delivering justice. But here? He was just surviving, a lost soul.
"Am I just an imposter?" he thought, clenching his fists. "Do I tell them I'm not their son? That I'm merely a ghost walking in Nel's body?"
As these doubts gnawed at him, a warm hand rested gently on his shoulder.
"My Lord," Seraphina's voice broke through his spiraling thoughts. Her touch was firm but comforting. Naomi turned to her. She still wore her usual cold expression, but there was a flicker of warmth in her eyes.
"Please, do not feel small," she said, her tone softer than he had ever heard.
Naomi managed a weak smile, the darkness within him momentarily eased. He looked into her steady gaze. For all her icy demeanor, Seraphina had always stood by him.
"Seraphina," he whispered, struggling to find the words. "I... I don't know why I'm even alive anymore. I have no purpose here."
She knelt beside him, her hand never leaving his shoulder. "My Lord, such feelings are not rare. At some point, everyone questions their purpose. You are not alone in this. Just belive in your heart, My lord."
Naomi scoffed, shaking his head. "Is that really enough? Just checking your heart for direction? It sounds... foolish."
Her eyes softened, a faint smile playing at her lips. "Perhaps, but it worked for me. When I was a child, everyone said I should serve the Empire, lead the royal army, and bring honor to my family.
But when I searched my heart, I saw you, my Lord. From that moment, I chose to serve you. I have never regretted that decision."
Naomi felt a sharp pang in his chest. The weight of her words struck deeper than he expected. For a moment, he wondered if she truly loved Nel – the real Nel – and what that would mean for him, a stranger wearing Nel's skin.
"Thank you, Seraphina," he replied, his voice barely more than a whisper. "But promise me this... if you ever feel that I am not Nel anymore, if you feel I am not Nel anymore, I want you to leave me or kill me."
Seraphina's eyes widened, her normally stoic face betraying a flicker of shock. She hesitated, then bowed her head.
"As you wish, my Lord," she whispered.
Naomi felt his chest tighten. He turned away, unable to meet her gaze any longer. He feared the day she would realize the truth, that the man she served was nothing more than an imposter, a spirit from another world.
Later that night, Naomi lay on his thin, worn bed, his mind a tangled mess of thoughts and regrets. His aura began to stir, a deep, resonant energy pulsing from within him. This time, it felt different – sharper, almost painful.
He bolted upright, clutching his chest as the aura thickened, swirling around him in dark, smoke-like tendrils. He glanced to his side – Seraphina was resting beside him, unaware of the growing chaos.
The smoke formed strange symbols in the air, and two words stood out clearly – "Blood" and "Summon."
Naomi's eyes widened. He recognized this from an old text he'd read in the library – a dangerous, forbidden form of magic. Without thinking, he reached for his knife, slicing a small cut across his finger, letting the blood drip into the swirling darkness.
The moment his blood touched the mist, it began to twist and condense, forming a shape. He watched in awe and fear as the black aura coiled tighter, until it solidified into a small, sleek lizard with violet eyes. It blinked at him, its gaze strangely intelligent.
Naomi reached out to grab the creature, but before his fingers could close around it, his vision blurred, and darkness swept over him.
Summoning had drained his mana completely. He collapsed onto the cold stone floor, slipping into unconsciousness as the violet-eyed creature scurried closer, watching its master with quiet, curious eyes.
Early morning
Naomi awoke with a sharp, throbbing pain in his head. He groaned, clutching his temples as the fog of sleep slowly lifted. Blinking against the dim light filtering through the tent, he reached to his side, expecting the familiar warmth of Seraphina. She was gone.
"Must have been a dream," he muttered, trying to piece together the strange events from the night before. The memory felt surreal – the smoke, the blood, the lizard with violet eyes. Maybe his mind was simply playing tricks on him.
Then, he felt it – a small, warm weight perched on his head.
"Good morning, Master," a voice echoed directly in his mind.
Naomi's eyes shot open. His heart pounded. He scrambled upright, clutching at his hair, and his fingers closed around something small and warm.
"Where... Where is that voice coming from?" he stammered.
"From your head, Master," the voice replied casually. "I'm sitting right here."
Naomi pulled the creature off his head and held it before his eyes. It was the same small, black lizard from his dream – the one with those piercing violet eyes. Its scales shimmered faintly in the morning light.
"So it wasn't a dream... I really summoned you," Naomi whispered, still trying to catch his breath.
The lizard wiggled its tiny legs, clearly unimpressed by Naomi's panic. "Yes, Master. You summoned me by offering your blood."
Naomi's pulse raced. He stared at the creature, turning it this way and that, trying to understand what he had done. "Alright then, if you're real, what can you do? Do you have any special powers? Can you breathe fire or something?"
The lizard let out a dry, hissing laugh. "Oh, come now, Master. I'm just a humble spirit lizard. My greatest power is catching small insects."
Naomi's eyes narrowed. He felt a wave of annoyance wash over him. He reached for his knife, his tone dropping to a threatening whisper. "So you're just a waste of my mana? I should kill you right now."
The lizard's eyes widened, and it flailed in his grasp. "I-I was joking! Forgive me, Master Naomi!"
Naomi froze. The air around him seemed to chill.
"Wait... What did you just call me?" he said, his voice dangerously low.
"Master... Naomi?" the lizard repeated, its voice tinged with confusion.
Naomi's heart skipped a beat. In this world, everyone knew him as Nel – the name he took on when he found himself in this strange place. No one should know his true name.
"How\... How do you know my real name?" he demanded, his grip tightening.
The lizard tilted its head, violet eyes shimmering with a hint of mischief. "Of course, I can see it. We spirits have a unique ability to peer into the souls of our summoners. I can see your skills, your level, even your true name. When I looked into your soul, it said you were Naomi, a soul from another world."
Naomi felt his blood run cold. He had tried so hard to bury his past, to blend into this new world as Nel. But now, this tiny creature held one of his deepest secrets.
"Y-you can see my soul?" he whispered, fear creeping into his voice.
The lizard simply nodded, its violet eyes gleaming. "Yes, Master. And if I can see it, perhaps others can as well..."
Naomi's breath caught as he stared at the small black lizard with violet eyes—born from his own blood, summoned by a power he didn't fully understand. It wasn't just a creature; it was something ancient… something aware. And in that moment, a terrifying thought gripped him—what if this spirit could see past the skin, past the flesh, down to the soul itself?
He had heard the rumors in the hidden corners of the library—how spirits, unlike humans, weren't fooled by lies or appearances. They didn't see the face you wore. They saw the truth burned into your soul—the name you were born with, the life you lived.
And if that was true…
If this thing—this lizard—could read the real name hiding inside him, then so could others.
The Duke.
Naomi's hands trembled. He thought he could survive by playing the role of Nel, by blending in, by faking the strength and legacy that wasn't his. But now, if someone like the Duke—cold, calculating, merciless—ever brought forth a soul-seeing spirit… then no amount of acting would save him.
He would know.
And the moment he does… he'll drag me out in chains, call me a fraud, and slit my throat before the court—just to make an example of me.
The lizard blinked once, as if amused. Naomi looked away, heart pounding, sweat dampening his neck.
He was running out of time.
He had to find a way to counter this—before the Duke discovered the trick and used it to expose his true soul… and end everything.
To be continued.