Ch 4:
<3rd PoV>
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[23:59:59]
[23:59:58]
The cascade of mechanical messages flickered out as abruptly as it had appeared, leaving a soft, pulsating countdown hovering in the corner of Ray's vision. His brow twitched, a faint annoyance creasing his features.
"Twenty-four hours till... something," he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. "Thought the craziest part of my life ended with past-life memories. Guess I was wrong."
With a long exhale, he stepped onto the stone balcony of his mansion, the morning sun casting golden rays across the sprawling estate. The air was crisp, brushing cool against his bare chest, carrying the scent of dew-soaked earth and blooming orchids.
His private oasis stretched acres in every direction—encircled by towering trees and shimmering spell wards, with the mansion standing like a proud sentinel at its heart.
This was no inherited relic of noble excess; Ray had built this place with his own coin, earned through potions, patents, and sheer ingenuity. Every stone, every ward, was chosen for utility, not ostentation. To Ray, flaunting wealth by hoarding others' creations was the mark of a lazy braggart. True pride came from crafting something yourself and letting the world marvel at your work.
Today, he decided, would be a rest day—a rare pause to savor the fruits of his labor.
After washing up, he threw on loose training pants and draped a silk robe lazily over his shoulders, its fabric whispering against his skin. Breakfast awaited in the garden, where a round, white tea table sat beneath a canopy of flowering vines.
Ivy curled around the wooden trellis overhead, casting a patchwork of green and gold across the table's glassy surface. Fine porcelain, neatly folded napkins, and a bouquet of morning lilies adorned the setup, each item chosen for function over flash—a reflection of Ray's belief that beauty should serve a purpose.
"Good morning, Master!" a cheerful voice rang out, perfectly timed to his footsteps.
Lilia stood by the table, her maid uniform a damn masterpiece of tailoring. The black-and-white fabric hugged her body like it was painted on, clinging to every curve with sinful precision. The bodice cinched her slender waist, flaring into the lush swell of her hips, while the skirt—short enough to tease—traced her thighs like a lover's touch.
Her large, bouncy breasts strained against the fabric, their full, rounded shape stealing the spotlight with every breath she took. The neckline, edged with white frills, framed her chest like a work of art, the buttons glinting in the sun, daring his eyes to linger. The apron tied tight around her waist only amplified her hourglass figure, swaying with each step, a silent taunt that screamed look at me.
Her beauty was a punch to the gut. Crimson eyes burned like dying embers, flickering with shy warmth and a spark of boldness. Her silver hair, long as a moonlit river, shimmered in the sun, tied loosely with strands framing a face that could stop time—high cheekbones, a delicate nose, and lips so full and soft they practically begged to be kissed.
Her skin, pale as starlight, glowed with a radiance that felt alive, pulling him in like a spell he didn't want to break. Elf or not, she was a goddess in maid's clothing, every inch of her screaming perfection.
Ray froze for a moment, ensnared by her presence. His pulse quickened, a rare crack in his usual composure.
He wasn't one to be swayed easily, but Lilia—this morning, haloed by sunlight, her curves accentuated by that impossibly snug uniform—was a vision that could unravel even his ironclad restraint. Her beauty wasn't just striking; it was a force, demanding attention, stirring something primal within him.
He forced his gaze away, resisting the pull like it was a spell woven by a master enchantress. Still, he caught the flush creeping across her cheeks, her crimson eyes flickering with a boldness that hadn't been there before. She was growing braver, teetering on the edge of a victory she clearly craved.
Still as he looked at the sight of Lilia's blushing face, full of shy and nervous expression.
But the smile on her face? That was genuine.
Unlike before—when she was hollow and quiet, just another cursed experiment subject.
Yeah, Lilia had changed. And seeing her happy now? It stirred something even deeper than attraction.
A soft smile tugged at Ray's lips.
"Let's test something," he murmured, activating one of his newly acquired subskills. "Super Appraisal."
{STATUS}
Name: Lilia (0%)
Race: Demon Elf
Trait: Clear Glass Body (new)
Skill: Contract, Spirit Creation, Spirit Fusion (new)
Level-
Aura: None
Magic: 2nd Circle
Affinity:
Spirit Magic: SS
Nature: A
Darkness: S
Special Talent:
Spirit Magic: SS
Summoning: B
Description: Born as a half-elf with demon blood. Due to negative mutation, she was riddled with a curse of negativity and decay, making her look rather hideous. Due to some unknown phenomena, she evolved twice, allowing her to acquire a new skill each time, changing her race twice, and even enhancing her talent.
Previous Race: Dark Elf
Initial Race: Half Elf
____________________________
Yeah. She was the one.
The 'experiment subject' he'd casually referred to earlier? That was Lilia.
Back then, she didn't even have a name—just a label, a scratched-on tag hanging from a fraying collar. He'd found her in the slave market, shoved behind a cracked wooden stall, partially hidden beneath a moth-eaten cloak. Most buyers walked right past her. The few who looked seemed more puzzled than interested. Her features were still human, mostly. Just... altered.
Not grotesque, no—but there was something clearly wrong. Patches of discoloration marked her arms and jawline, like old spell burns that never healed right. Her left eye had a faint shimmer of decay magic leaking from the sclera, and her mana signature was warped—unstable, like static in the air. She didn't look monstrous. Just cursed. Unlucky.
And in this world, that was enough to make someone disposable.
Slavery was legal. Ugly truth, but Ray never bothered pretending otherwise. He didn't moralize; he minimized risk.
Most of his test subjects were criminals—people with long records and short futures. He never bought kids, never bought the innocent. That was his line.
So he almost passed her by.
Until he scanned her potential.
100%.
Perfect compatibility for Evolution-based trials. The first and only time he'd ever seen it. He thought the scanner was broken, tapped it twice, even checked another one just to be sure. Same result.
So he bought her. Cheap, too—the seller looked almost relieved to be rid of her.
Ray didn't expect much. Maybe she'd survive a few rounds. Maybe not. She didn't talk, didn't react, didn't fight back. Just stared through him with eyes that barely blinked. He didn't ask about her past. There was no need. She was a test subject, not a story.
And then—she evolved.
Just once. But it was enough.
The change wasn't flashy or violent. Her body refined itself like a sculptor slowly revealing the shape beneath the stone. The residue of the curse—those dull blotches and faint cracks in her aura—peeled away bit by bit. Her posture straightened. Her eyes cleared. Her voice returned, soft and hesitant.
She looked... normal. Healthy. Beautiful, in a subtle, unpolished kind of way. Still quiet. Still cautious. But alive.
After that, she stayed.
Not because he asked her to. Not because of obligation or debt. She just did. She made herself useful. Organized the mess in his lab, helped calibrate his arrays, swept the floor without a word. Then she started speaking. Asking questions. Offering tea.
Now?
She cooked. Experimented with flavor combinations. Took notes when he said he liked something and tried to outdo herself the next morning. Always precise, always quiet—her way of showing pride without showing off.
These days, she made the best damn breakfasts he'd ever had.
"Breakfast is served! I hope it's to your liking," she said, her voice bright but laced with nervous excitement. Her fingers fidgeted at the edge of the tray, betraying her attempt at composure.
Ray adjusted his robe, a faint, amused smile tugging at his lips. "Did you upgrade your charm stat overnight?"
Lilia's eyes widened, and her face flushed a deeper pink. "W-what!? N-no! I—I just… changed my hairband, and—oh no, does it look weird!?"
"It's fine," he said, settling into a cushioned chair with a quiet grin. "But you'll have to take responsibility if I get distracted during training."
Her flustered gasp nearly made him laugh. He liked seeing her like this—caught off guard, her composure crumbling under his teasing.
Ray raised a brow, amusement glinting in his eyes. "Still, you always say that, Lilia, yet somehow everything you make tastes better than the last."
Her smile deepened, flustered but glowing with pride. "That's because I keep trying new things based on your preferences! Today, it's honey-glazed toast with enchanted berry jam, poached egg over steamed herb rice, and… um, a chilled moon-milk smoothie to balance the heat."
Ray chuckled, leaning back. "You make breakfast sound like a three-course banquet."
"Well, it's the most important meal of the day," she said proudly, then looked away, embarrassed by her own enthusiasm. "A-and… I like seeing you enjoy it."
He took a sip of the smoothie—cool, sweet, with hints of vanilla and a refreshing minty undertone. "As expected," he said. "Perfect."
He cut into the egg, letting the aroma of herbs and yolk rise. "I've never eaten food prepared by a royal chef, but I'd bet they could learn a thing or two from you."
Lilia's face lit up, her crimson eyes sparkling with surprise and quiet pride. "Y-you're exaggerating again…"
"I don't just say things. I spit facts too big for commoners to handle."
She giggled, soft and bright. "Then… thanks, Master Ray."
They sat in peaceful silence, broken only by birdsong and the rustle of wind through the vines. Ray polished off his plate with a contented sigh, savoring the moment. This mansion, this garden, this life—he'd built it all, not to flaunt wealth like some noble fool, but to create a space where he could think, work, and grow. Every choice was his, a testament to his refusal to waste resources on meaningless displays.
"I'll be out training," he said, standing. "If I collapse, don't disturb me."
"Wha—?! Collapse?!" Lilia's voice spiked with panic. "Shouldn't you be resting? You were coughing up magic residue last week!"
"Relax," he said, stretching his arms overhead. "I'll be fine. Probably."
Lilia pouted, clearly worried, but held back her protests. "O-okay… just don't overdo it."
Lilia had much to say but stopped herself from speaking more, she doesn't want her master to fell like she was being annoying. And she knew what great pressure Ray must be under, she was also the same before she was saved by him.
Looking at his back getting smaller and smaller in front of her, her gaze become determined, "I must also work harder to not let master down!" She said while puffing out her cheeks, looking cute like a hamster.
She dropped her hand below and a magic circle around 2 meters wide appeared on the ground.
"Summon Spirit: Pebbin, Fizzel, Twiggle."
Three chibi-like elementals—earth, air, and nature—popped into view with cheerful squeaks.
"Master is working hard, we can't slack off. Let's get the housework done so that we can play later!"
"Kyu!" 3x
As the spirited squad left with the utensils, ray once again scene shifted to ray.
Ray stepped onto the training ground barefoot, the grass cold and alive under his feet, slick with morning dew.
Jogging had become a habit since last year's incident—a necessity to keep his body from deteriorating under the lingering effects of his failed experiment. If he didn't move, the internal damage would only worsen.
He started slowly, more to loosen up than anything. Each footfall was measured, each breath steady.
But then, something surprising happened—he didn't feel tired. His body moved with an ease he hadn't known in years, free of the usual stabbing discomfort that plagued his efforts.
Even walking fast typically made his injuries flare, but now?
Blood flowed freely, warmth flooding long-neglected corners of his body. Damaged muscle fibers no longer resisted his movements. His organs, once scarred and distorted by mana backlash, pulsed with a strange sense of renewal.
It was as if his body were finally functioning as it should have years ago.
Ray blinked, a grin spreading across his face. "Looks like Super Recovery didn't just work on the surface…"
He leaned forward, picking up speed.
Then faster.
Then faster still.
Adrenaline surged through him, a sensation so novel it felt intoxicating.
He didn't tire. His legs carried him effortlessly, and he decided to push further, testing a basic footwork technique—one so simple even commoners could learn it, requiring only a trickle of mana. So of course he also learned it.
Following the image in his mind he let mana flow through his feet, and suddenly, it was as if boosters had replaced his soles.
Wind roared past his ears, the ground blurring beneath him. Trees zipped by, the pathway a mere streak of color. His lungs expanded with clean air, his legs pumped like pistons, and not once did he feel the burning fatigue that should have followed.
Time slipped away as he reveled in the motion—sprinting, weaving, performing complex maneuvers and acrobatics.
Is this the world knights live in? he thought, exhilaration coursing through him.
This is awesome.
The feeling was addictive, unlike anything he'd experienced before. Unconsciously, he increased the mana flow, pushing his limits further—
Pain.
Not soreness. Not exhaustion.
Agony.
His veins ignited like molten wire, searing through his skin. His vision blurred. Mana backlash surged like a tidal wave, shredding his internal channels with ruthless precision. His knees buckled, and he slammed into the ground.
His muscles seized. His lungs refused to expand. His nerves—those beautiful, awakened nerves—screamed in betrayal. The pain wasn't just physical; it was spiritual, as if his soul were being crushed into sparks and fed back into his body, layer by agonizing layer.
He twitched violently on the grass, choking on nothing, hands clawing into the dirt as if he could rip the pain out by force.
Make it stop.
Words wouldn't form, but instinct—or perhaps sheer pride—pushed him to rasp out a command.
"S-Super… Recovery…!"
A ripple of warmth surged through him. The pain resisted, clawing back for an agonizing second before relenting, like a beast forced into its cage. The torment vanished.
Ray collapsed onto the grass, gasping, the sky above a dizzying swirl of clouds and spinning sunrays.
"Ray-sama!!"
A pair of arms wrapped around him, pulling him into a trembling embrace. A soft lap cradled his head.
Lilia.
Her crimson eyes were wide, wet with panic, her silver hair falling around him like a shimmering curtain. "You collapsed…! Ray-sama, I-I. What happened—!"
He blinked, dazed, and flashed a weak smirk. "Guess I burned the toast this time, huh?"
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To Be Continued:
[Word Count: 2535]
A/N: Any advice who should be in the chat group? 2 people i have decided, 3 remain undecided, you comment the rest.
Oh and comment before the 6-7 chapters, other vise i might have to add them much later.
Spoiler:
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Don't recommend protagonist of any anime/novel as the chat group member.