"HAAAAAA!!!!!"
Ceres screamed as she felt her body falling, her stomach twisting in freefall before…
Thud!
She landed with a gasp, her breath hitching as she was suddenly aware of a soft, plush surface beneath her.
"Your Highness!"
A woman's voice reached her ears, warm hands suddenly clasping her raised hand, which she hadn't even realized was hovering mid-air.
Dazed, Ceres blinked up at the elaborate canopy above her. The intricate gold embroidery on the deep blue fabric blurred as she tried to process her surroundings.
Her gaze followed the gentle touch on her hand, landing on a young woman about her age, dressed in what looked like a Renaissance-style maid's outfit. The woman had delicate, pleasant features, her chestnut hair neatly tied up in a bun.
"Are you alright, Your Highness?" The concern in her voice was genuine, her brown eyes scanning Ceres with deep worry.
Ceres's lips parted, confusion swirling in her mind. "Who… who are you?"
The maid blinked at her question but quickly composed herself.
"I am your personal maid, Your Highness. My name is Delphine," she said with a respectful bow.
"Delphine?" Ceres repeated, testing the name on her tongue as she glanced around the room.
The chamber was massive… just as grand as her bedroom back in the Monteverde Mansion… but there was something off.
There were no modern elements.
No sleek technology.
No hint of contemporary luxury.
Instead, the room was decorated in the rich, antique style of a medieval palace… tall, ornate windows with heavy velvet drapes, grand chandeliers hanging from the intricately carved ceiling, and golden candelabras lining the walls. The wooden furniture was large and regal, every piece intricately designed to reflect wealth and status.
Ceres frowned. Where the hell am I?
She tried to sit up, only to be met with an unfamiliar heaviness. Her body felt sluggish as if something was weighing her down.
Delphine immediately stepped in to assist, carefully propping her up against the headboard.
"Where… where am I?" Ceres finally asked, her voice hoarse.
The maid hesitated for a second before answering. "You are in Aquilonis, Your Highness."
"Aquilonis?" Ceres echoed in disbelief.
The name sent a dizzying wave of confusion through her already spinning head. Where the hell is that?
"A northern kingdom, just before the Frozen Sea," Delphine elaborated.
That only made her head hurt more. The Frozen Sea? What kind of fantasy novel setting was this?
Her thoughts were a jumbled mess, so she chose to stay quiet for now.
"You don't seem well, Your Highness," Delphine said gently. "Perhaps you should eat something first."
Before Ceres could respond, her stomach let out a loud, shameful growl.
Her eyes widened.
She had never… never… experienced something so humiliating before. In her past life, she always had food served at the right time, in the right amount. Her body was always well-maintained, polished, and elegant.
This… this was unacceptable.
Delphine, however, merely smiled, as if used to this. She reached for a bowl of steaming soup from the nearby table and scooped a spoonful, gently bringing it toward Ceres's lips.
Ceres stiffened at the gesture. Her first instinct was to refuse… she was perfectly capable of feeding herself… but something about the way Delphine moved told her that this was routine.
She had done this before.
And Ceres wasn't in a position to draw more suspicion onto herself.
So, reluctantly, she parted her lips and allowed Delphine to feed her.
The soup looked appetizing, resembling the rich, creamy stews served in high-end Italian or French restaurants.
But the moment it touched her tongue…
Her face twisted in displeasure.
'What the hell is this?'
It was bland. Tasteless. Like she was drinking thickened water.
"What is this?" she asked, frowning.
"It's Northern Velquin Stew, Your Highness. Your favorite," Delphine answered with a smile.
Ceres stared at her. Then at the soup.
"My favorite?"
She took another hesitant sip, but no matter how hard she tried to taste something, there was nothing.
Was it her? Was her tongue broken?
"I think my sense of taste hasn't returned yet," she muttered after a moment. "I don't want to eat anymore."
Delphine's expression softened in understanding. "Of course, Your Highness."
She placed the bowl down and gave a slight curtsy. "Please rest for now. If you need anything, simply ring the bell." With that, she quietly left the room, leaving Ceres alone.
The moment the door shut, Ceres sat up abruptly.
Ignoring the strange weight in her limbs, she scanned the room with sharp, observant eyes.
It was real.
Everything about it felt real.
And yet, it shouldn't be.
She had died. She had fallen into what felt like an endless abyss. And now she was here.
Slowly, she swung her legs over the side of the bed, feeling the cold marble floor beneath her bare feet. With effort, she pushed herself up, her body protesting with unfamiliar heaviness.
There… near the far end of the room… stood a mirror.
A large, full-length mirror framed in gold.
Something inside her urged her to look.
With careful, dragging steps, she approached it, ignoring the way her limbs felt uncoordinated, and unfamiliar.
And the moment she saw her own reflection, she froze.
Her breath caught in her throat.
Her golden eyes… same as before. Her platinum blonde hair… still long and flowing.
But the face staring back at her…
It wasn't her face.
She recognized herself, yes. But the woman in the mirror was different.
She was fat.
Not just chubby… obese.
Her face, once sharp and defined, was now round and bloated. Her cheeks were swollen, hiding the sharp elegance of her features. Her body, once graceful and slender, was now thick and heavy, her frame unrecognizably large.
She looked like a…
'A fat, ugly pig.'
The words shot through her mind like a curse, and her stomach twisted violently.
She opened her mouth to scream…
But no sound came out.
She was too shocked to even process what was happening.
Who was this person?
And more importantly…
Where the hell had Lucifer just thrown her into?!
She couldn't even scream. Instead, her body reacted in the only way it could… by violently throwing up.
A wave of disgust crashed over her, her stomach twisting as bile rose in her throat. The sight of her reflection, the reality of it, was too much for her to handle.
She barely registered the sound of the door bursting open.
"Your Highness!"
Delphine's voice reached her, laced with panic. The maid rushed inside, and with her came a tall man clad in blue trousers and a long-sleeved tunic. Strapped to his waist was a longsword.
Ceres barely had time to react before she doubled over again, retching.
She dimly felt the man's arms lifting her… easily, effortlessly… before carrying her back to the bed. Humiliation burned in her chest.
'How can he carry me like I weigh nothing?!'
Even without knowing her exact weight, she knew she had to be over 200 pounds now. And yet, he lifted her as if she were as light as a feather.
The sheer embarrassment made her stomach churn worse.
And just like that, she was throwing up again.
"Fück you, Lucifer!"
The curse slipped past her lips before she could stop it.
Delphine gasped audibly while the man stiffened. But neither questioned her outburst. Instead, the knight quietly stepped back, leaving Delphine to tend to her.
The maid gently rubbed circles on her back as Ceres continued emptying whatever was left in her stomach into a silver bowl… one that had seemingly appeared out of nowhere. She had no idea where it came from, nor did she care.
She just wanted to purge everything. If she could throw up all the fat in her body, she would have.
Then, suddenly…
Everything stopped.
The world around her went silent.
The air froze.
The gentle sway of the curtains, caught in a passing breeze, hung suspended in time. Delphine, still holding the silver bowl, remained completely still, her expression frozen in worry.
Time had stopped.
And then, she felt him.
A familiar presence.
Out of thin air, Azrael appeared before her.
Her eyes immediately narrowed.
"Don't look at me like that," he said, completely nonchalant. "I wasn't the one who shoved you here."
"Fück you!" she snapped. "Where the hell am I? And what kind of body is this?!"
Azrael barely sighed, like he was already so done with her tantrums. "As much as I would love to answer your questions, Celestial beings like myself aren't allowed to linger in the mortal realm for long. But since I technically failed my duty of briefing you before sending you off, I'll grant you a gift."
Before she could question him, Azrael reached out, pressing his fingertip lightly against her forehead.
A sudden warmth spread through her skin, seeping into her… like something was being embedded deep within her soul.
Then, as if it were an afterthought, he continued speaking, "Also, the Three Fates have granted you three divine gifts."
Ceres stilled, listening carefully.
"First, Silver Tongue." Azrael's voice remained indifferent. "As long as you will it, anything you say will become reality."
Ceres's eyes widened slightly. That sounds… incredibly overpowered.
"Second, Creation Magic. You can create anything and everything your mind envisions without limit."
Her breath hitched.
That was even worse.
"Lastly, The Monarch's Blessing. When you serve someone, their abilities and skills will be enhanced significantly."
That one, she didn't care for. Why would she serve anyone?
But then Azrael's voice dropped slightly.
"However, there's a catch."
Ceres tensed. Of course, there was always a catch.
"In order to use any of these gifts…" Azrael met her gaze with a knowing look. "…You'll have to use your life force."
Ceres felt a chill creep up her spine. "My life force?"
Azrael nodded. "Once I leave, my gift will activate, and you'll see something called a Life Force Indicator." He continued, "That indicator will show you exactly how much of your lifespan remains before you die. Normally, if it reaches zero, you die instantly."
Ceres frowned. "Normally?"
Azrael exhaled, his golden eyes flickering with something unreadable.
"Yes. Normally." He tilted his head slightly. "But Lucifer also bestowed a gift upon you, remember?"
"When the hell did that happen?" she demanded.
Azrael gave her an almost pitying look.
"That kiss he gave you."
Ceres froze.
"That wasn't just a kiss, sweetheart," Azrael said mockingly, using Lucifer's exact tone. "That was a binding. That kiss chained your soul to this body, making it impossible for you to die… until seventy-nine years have passed."
Her blood ran cold.
"What…?"
Azrael's expression remained unreadable.
"The chain will not break until the exact moment you are meant to return to the Judgment Hall. Meaning… no matter what happens to you, no matter how fatal the injury, you will not die. For seventy-nine years, that kiss ensures that your life force will never drop below five."
Ceres's hands clenched into fists. "You've got to be kidding me."
Azrael ignored her and continued, "However, that doesn't mean you won't suffer. Once your life force drops to fifty, you'll begin experiencing pain equal to the percentage lost."
Her breath hitched.
"What… does that mean?"
Azrael met her gaze without hesitation.
"It means that once your life force reaches fifty, any pain, injury, or discomfort you experience will be felt five times the normal intensity. Below forty, six times, and so on."
Ceres stared.
Her stomach twisted in horror.
"Are you serious?!"
Azrael gave her a slow, almost mocking nod. "Yes. And now…"
He took a step back, glancing around as if time itself was beginning to call him away. "I have to go."
"Wait!" Ceres lunged forward, reaching for him. "I still have questions!"
Azrael smirked.
"Any questions you have," he said coolly, "will be answered by the gift I just gave you."
And just like that…
He disappeared.
The moment he vanished, time resumed.
The curtains swayed once more.
Delphine's hand moved again, gently rubbing her back.
The weight of what just happened settled onto Ceres's chest.
She was stuck.
For seventy-nine years.
In this body.
Ceres closed her eyes, inhaled deeply…
And cursed.
"Lucifer, you motherfücker!"