Unauthorized Reincarnation

  Chapter 8: The Pact Begins

  A lush green landscape stretched beneath the morning sky, cradled by dense forest on all sides. Nestled within it lay a small village, its homes built of stone with roofs of golden straw. Birds trilled cheerfully from the branches, their songs threading through the crisp air like strands of sunlight.

  Inside one cottage, a woman’s gentle voice stirred the silence.

  “Rufus… Rufus, wake up.”

  She moved to the window, pulling it open to let the morning breeze drift in. Then, with a playful sigh, she peeled back the blanket covering her son. The sunlight spilled across his face, illuminating his features with a golden glow. He was breathtaking, even the sun seemed to adore him, casting warmth and brilliance over every curve of his face.

  Unable to resist the charm of her son’s sleeping beauty, the woman leaned down and began planting kisses across his face, Rufus opened his crimson eyes.

  That morning, at their modest wooden table, they shared bread and steaming bowls of soup. Rufus looked up mid-bite, his gaze filled with innocent hope.

  “Mama… you said Father would come when I turned five. It’s been a week since my birthday. So… when will he come?”

  Her hand stilled, her smile softening with sadness. She brushed her fingers across his cheek.

  “Perhaps if we go to Castriel this Friday, we can send him a letter. Maybe then… he’ll come home.”

  “Really?” Rufus’s face lit with joy. “We’re going to the city?”

  She nodded, laughing, and for a while their laughter filled the little room. For that moment, nothing existed but warmth.

  That afternoon, Rufus ventured into the forest with a small satchel, gathering mushrooms for the journey. Sunlight danced across the moss as he hummed softly, hair glowing like fire between the trees.

  But then—

  A sharp, acrid scent. Smoke.

  Rufus froze. Birds scattered from the branches in frantic flight. The forest had fallen silent.

  The satchel slipped from his hands as he ran, heart pounding, branches clawing at his arms. He burst into the clearing—

  And his world ended.

  The village was aflame. Roofs collapsed in showers of sparks. The cottage he had called home burned brightest of all. The screams of neighbors drowned beneath the roar of fire.

  Rufus’s knees buckled. Tears blurred his vision as his hands pressed against his face, The world started trembling then shattered.

  As if cutting open a dream world, a man woke up sweating in a rented tavern room.

  He moved without sound, washing his face at the basin before lifting a worn iron mask from the table. With a steady hand, he fitted it over his features, hiding whatever remained beneath.

  Outside the window, two girls in armor walked by, their voices light , careless. His eyes—crimson and cold through the mask—fell on the burning rose in the middle of their breastplates.

  For a moment, hatred radiated from him, sharp enough to choke the air. Then the window closed.

  The room fell silent once more.

  At the street Shuyi felt it.

  A prickling along her spine.

  Her steps slowed, her sharp eyes scanning the crowd, the buildings. The sensation of being watched was too precise to ignore—focused, heavy, almost suffocating. She reached out and tugged lightly at Lily’s sleeve.

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  “Don’t move too quickly,” Shuyi whispered. Her voice was calm, but her hand trembled faintly. “Someone’s eyes are on us. And not with curiosity—malice.”

  Lily froze, her breath catching. She turned her head just slightly, trying to follow Shuyi’s line of sight. But when they searched, there was nothing—only merchants haggling, a group of adventurers boasting about their last hunt, a child tugging at her mother’s hand.

  The feeling faded as suddenly as it had come, like a shadow slipping back into the cracks.

  Shuyi’s brows knit, but she released Lily’s sleeve with a quiet sigh. “Whoever it was, they’re gone now. Let’s not draw more attention to ourselves.”

  Lily nodded slowly, though her heart still beat fast. The memory of that fleeting dread clung to her as they continued down the market road.

  They reached a weapons stall where steel glinted beneath the canopy. Rows of blades, from short daggers to curved sabers, lined the racks. The merchant, a balding man with arms as thick as tree trunks, eyed them with a calculating smile.

  Lily’s gaze lingered on the swords. “Kristina didn’t give us weapons. But… if Mariel and Sariel Kardelis wore armor, then they must have had swords, right?”

  For a moment, Shuyi didn’t answer. Her expression softened, something heavy flickering in her eyes. “They did,” she said finally. “But you won’t find those blades here.”

  “Why not?” Lily asked, puzzled.

  “Because they were buried with them,” Shuyi replied quietly. “The Kardelis family has a tradition they bury their family member with their most loved thing.”

  Lily fell silent, “I think I like the tradition, ahh I guess I choose these two” she held two identical swords made for dual wielding.

  Shuyi tilted her head as Lily hefted the twin blades, testing their weight with an awkward grip.

  “Have you ever even used a sword before?” she asked, her tone dry but not unkind.

  Lily froze. “…No,” she admitted after a moment, her cheeks warming. She lifted her chin defensively. “But everyone has to start somewhere.”

  Shuyi’s lips curved faintly, almost a smile. “True enough. Then let me ask—why two?”

  “Because they match,” Lily said with a small grin. “And besides… they just feel right in my hands.”

  Shuyi studied her for a moment, then set her own hands behind her back.

  “What about you?” Lily asked suddenly. “You’re not picking any?”

  “I don’t need to,” Shuyi replied evenly. “I use a bow and arrows—and a few basic spells when necessary. Swords aren’t my style.”

  Lily nodded thoughtfully, then glanced at the merchant, who wrapped the twin blades in cloth and handed them over. The weight of them settled against her arms, heavier than she expected—but the choice still felt right.

  By late afternoon, the two girls had returned to the Kardelis estate. The grand halls felt quieter than before, servants bowing as they passed.

  “We’ll need to ask Kristina,” Shuyi said as they walked. “There must be someone in her circles who knows proper swordsmanship. Training without guidance will just teach bad habits.”

  Lily adjusted the bundle in her arms, frowning. “You’re right. But… do you think she’ll actually have time for that? Or even care?”

  Before Shuyi could answer, a voice called from the corridor ahead.

  “Looking for someone to teach you?”

  Both girls turned. The wolf-girl—now clean, her hair brushed smooth, dressed in a simple but neat tunic—stood before them. Her golden eyes gleamed with a quiet sharpness that hadn’t been there in the alley.

  “I can teach you swordplay,” she said simply. “If you’ll have me.”

  Lily’s mouth fell open slightly. “You… can fight?”

  The wolf-girl’s lips curved into the faintest smirk. “I had to survive before you found me. Swords were my only friends.”

  Shuyi raised a brow, studying her carefully. “…Interesting. And your name?”

  The girl’s ears twitched as she straightened her posture. “Call me Fenra.”

  Before Fenra could say more, the sound of heels against marble echoed down the corridor. Kristina appeared, her presence commanding as always, a sly smile tugging at her lips as if she had been listening all along.

  “How convenient,” Kristina said smoothly. “I was just wondering how long it would take before you two realized that weapons without skill are nothing more than ornaments.” Her sharp eyes flicked between Lily, Shuyi, and Fenra. “You wish to learn swordsmanship?”

  Lily nodded quickly, clutching her blades tighter. “Yes. Fenra says she can teach me.”

  Kristina’s laughter was soft but edged. “Oh, does she now?” Her gaze settled on the wolf-girl. “Then prove it.”

  Fenra straightened, golden eyes unflinching. “How?”

  “I know someone skilled,” Kristina said, circling them slowly like a predator playing with its prey. “He can fight five of my best guards at once and walk away standing. If you can do the same, I’ll allow you to train Lily.”

  A hush fell over the hall. Even Shuyi’s sharp composure wavered.

  Fenra’s tail flicked once behind her, but she didn’t back down. “Five?” she echoed. “Then five it is.”

  Kristina’s smirk deepened. With a snap of her fingers, she gestured to a waiting servant. “Summon my personal guard. Five of them.”

  The servant bowed quickly and hurried away.

  Fenra glanced at Lily, then extended a hand. “Could you lend me your blades?.”

  For a heartbeat, Lily hesitated. Then she placed the twin swords into Fenra’s grasp. The wolf-girl spun them experimentally, testing their weight, then slid into a stance that was far too practiced to belong to a mere street survivor.

  The doors opened. Five armored guards marched in, each bearing the burning rose upon their chest. They moved with disciplined precision, their blades already drawn.

  The air thickened with anticipation as Kristina raised her voice.

  “Begin.”