CHAPTER 02
A violent heartbeat that seemed to spurt blood. A faint breeze brushing against the skin. The scent of flowers carried on the wind, and a soft blanket slipping through her fingers. Every sensation touching her skin felt like a dream.
Eleksena realized it.
“…Ah.”
I’ve returned to the living world.
Every sensation in this body felt intoxicatingly real. The boundary between life and death had been an empty void—nothing could be felt there. For Eleksena, who had remained in that place for over a thousand years, these vivid sensations felt almost unreal.
Am I really alive again?
She took a deep breath.
The cold air filling her chest, the warm breath escaping her lips—these confirmed it.
“I really am alive.”
I’ve taken over that fool’s body.
At that realization, Eleksena burst into laughter. Her lips curled upward foolishly.
To think she had forgotten this feeling—the sensation of being alive—for a thousand years. How wonderful it was.
She rubbed her flushed face against the pillow. The fabric felt smooth against her skin. Even pain, now felt faintly, was somehow welcome.
Eleksena looked at the bandage wrapped around her right arm. Though unseen beneath the blanket, both of her legs were also bandaged. This must have been what allowed that fool to reach the boundary between life and death.
Tch. How cumbersome.
Clicking her tongue, she removed the bandage from her right arm. It might have been a serious injury for the fool, but to Eleksena, it was nothing. The bandage only dulled her senses and was annoying.
Once removed, the arm was thinner than expected. But the pale hand, untouched by hardship, was still too large to belong to a four-year-old.
An adult?
No—not quite. Not fully grown. The body was still slender, probably between sixteen and twenty years old.
So that’s why she was called a fool. Her body and mind didn’t match.
Eleksena clenched and unclenched her hand. A faint pain lingered, but the movement was smooth without stiffness. Not a bad feeling. With time, she would be able to use it as if it had always been her own body.
A fragile body that had never been trained. Likely weakened from having hovered near death. Still, it had height and a solid bone structure. With muscle, it could become strong.
And body and soul influence each other. As her soul—the one that had become the strongest hero purely through strength—adjusted to this body, it would grow stronger as well.
By then, the fool’s revenge would be complete.
Eleksena sat up.
From outside, careful footsteps could be heard trying to stay quiet. Though she couldn’t determine the exact time, it was likely the maid who had been assigned to this body.
She must have been trained to serve her master properly.
Judging by the faint steps, the woman was likely in her late teens or early twenties. The sound of a tray clinking accompanied her steps. This must be the “Tia,” the maid the fool had complained about for giving her only terrible food.
“I’m coming in.”
With those words, Tia opened the door.
She was a maid with freckles across her cheeks and sharply upturned eyes. Her face carried annoyance and irritation.
So the fool said maids are commoners. That hasn’t changed.
But had basic manners disappeared while I was dead? How dare a commoner enter without permission?
The original Eleksena would have cut off her head immediately. For someone who had lived a life exalted as nobility until just before execution, such rudeness was a capital offense.
However, the fool had only asked her to “punish them”—not how.
So killing her immediately was not an option. Death was far too simple and peaceful an end.
Eleksena did not call that revenge.
To her, revenge meant returning humiliation a hundred or a thousand times over.
A promise must be kept. Breaking it was something kings did—not heroes.
And besides, the fool had been someone she had met after a thousand years. She could not casually ignore the promise made to such a precious being who had given her this body.
If she punished each of those who tormented the fool in the most agonizing way possible, the child—now reunited with her mother—would surely be satisfied.
Tia looked at Eleksena and smirked.
“Oh? You’re awake? You slept for an entire week.”
Her tone carried reprimand, as if scolding her for being asleep. Caring for an unconscious child must have been more troublesome than caring for a conscious one. But the lack of concern in her rude words was far from appropriate for speaking to a master.
Eleksena narrowed her eyes, curious how far this insolence would go.
Tia ignored her gaze and continued complaining. Most of it was about how difficult it had been to serve the foolish young lady.
“Do you know how annoying it was? Having to bring meals to a fool who wouldn’t even wake up.”
How unfortunate. Soon she would miss that “annoying” task dearly.
Eleksena sneered at her.
Meanwhile, Tia felt something off as she observed the unusually quiet young lady.
She’s different from usual.
That fool was never this quiet. She would always babble endlessly, trying desperately to say even a single word. And when Tia pinched her arm in irritation, she would cry loudly from the pain.
Now Tia found herself unable to continue her usual complaints and fell silent. Working as a maid had taught her only one thing: instinct. And that instinct told her something was different.
“Stop being troublesome and sit properly.”
Tia pushed the girl from the edge of the bed toward the center. It was a grave disrespect for a commoner to touch a noble’s body, but Tia didn’t care. The foolish princess wouldn’t even know it was disrespectful, and as long as her job was easier, that was all that mattered.
“You haven’t forgotten how to sit, have you, you idiot?”
Another complaint followed.
“Here! Eat quickly!”
On the tray placed on Eleksena’s lap was a single piece of bread. It was so black and hard that not even beggars on the street would eat it.
“I’m busy. Hurry up.”
The reason such food was served to a princess was because of the lady of the house. All servants knew it was wrong, but Tia obeyed orders. Not because of any deep reason.
The fool had no power, while the lady of the house held influence over every corner of the ducal estate. For Tia, obeying power was natural.
“If you don’t eat soon, I’ll take it away.”
Though the princess’s body was grown, her mind was no different from a five-year-old. Caring for even a small child was difficult—how much worse when the body was large?
She was an inconvenient, troublesome superior. There was no reward in serving her, and the shame of it only grew with time. No one wanted to risk the lady’s wrath for someone like her.
While Tia continued her complaints, Eleksena was lost in thought.
So this fool lived her entire life hearing things like this.
She truly was a fool.
It was obvious she hadn’t even told half of what she endured. Perhaps she couldn’t distinguish rudeness from normal behavior—or perhaps she had simply endured it, thinking it wasn’t serious.
Either way, she was still a fool.
But what did that matter now? The foolish girl was likely resting peacefully in the afterlife. Eleksena only had to complete her revenge perfectly.
How should I drag them down to the deepest pit of hell?
First, the insolent dog that couldn’t recognize its master—its teeth should be pulled out, and it should be left to drool in front of food until it starved.
And those who harmed the fool—perhaps their hands and feet should be cut off and fed to wolves.
Ah. Come to think of it, she also mentioned her mother.
The fool had said what hurt most was insults toward her mother. Then this would require the cruelest revenge of all.
Anyone who slandered or spread rumors about the fool’s mother should have their parents’ heads cut off and thrown before them. The rest of the bodies could be fed to pigs.
If that still isn’t enough, I’ll decide then.
For now, she would start by pulling out the teeth of this insolent subordinate.
Eleksena tapped the edge of the bread plate with her fingernail. The steady sound made Tia frown. The large room amplified every small sound.
“What are you even doing? Just eat already!”
Tia snapped irritably, her eyes now trembling with confusion. She was beginning to realize something was very wrong with the girl she served.
Seeing that confusion, Eleksena’s eyes gleamed with amusement.
This was who she was: one who ruled from the highest place, who never forgave disrespect, obstruction, or rebellion.
Yes. Soon she would give the final meal to the dog whose teeth she would pull out—so it could die slowly in agony.
And then Eleksena spoke.
“Tia. You’re loud.”
She let out a faint laugh.
