Falling From Grace

When she finally dared to take a good look at herself—her new self, she was greeted by a face she barely recognized. The strong, proud jaw, the bold, masculine nose, her long, thick hair—gone. All replaced by a soft, dollish face staring back at her from the water's surface by the riverside, looking wide-eyed and very, very unimpressed.

"Alright, let's see the damage," she muttered. Turning her head this way and that, she inspected the delicate features now adorning her reflection. For a split second, she found herself admiring them, but was quickly seized by another thought. Without a second's hesitation, she yanked open her robes and glanced downward.

Yep. It was gone.

"This… this has to be a nightmare," she whispered to herself, gripping the sides of her robe, inhaling deeply, and trying to keep her composure. She scrunched her face in frustration.

A woman—her? She was the emperor's last heir, destined for the throne! And now, a woman's only path to power was standing demurely to the side, like some obedient "vessel." And if she wanted to keep her title, she'd be trading her lovely wives for… husbands.

"Lords, have mercy," she choked, pressing a hand to her mouth as she felt a wave of nausea rise. The thought alone was enough to make her want to throw herself back into the river.

A sharp breeze rolled by, only making things worse. She shivered, getting a disturbingly uncomfortable awareness of how… empty things felt down there. This wasn't right—none of this was right!

She may have the body of a woman now, but she was still a man through and through, in mind, in heart, in spirit, and certainly in the very core of her soul. Even if some divine prankster thought they could change her outside, nothing would ever stop her from running toward a sea of fair maidens!

Beep! Her thoughts were cut off as the air was pierced by a series of sharp, incessant sounds. It was unexpected, causing her to jolt in surprise.

She spun around frantically, seeking the persistent sounds that grew aggravating.

"Where's that sound coming from?..." Her voice quivered with growing irritation until her eyes fell on a blue dot that materialized in front of her.

It was an imperceptible, transparent anomaly, which suddenly inflated into a large, smooth, semi-translucent sheet.

She instantly recoiled from the unexpected expansion. 

"What's happening?!"

— [Welcome to the Redemption System]

— [The Redemption System has been ordained by an anonymous entity of preservation who oversees the Empire of Valtirium. He, who does not meddle with the mortal realm, has foreseen a great conflict between the political powers that will lead to its internal demise.]

— [You have been chosen after careful foretelling as the remaining hope, thus one was resurrected. In light of your propensity for heedless and riotous behavior, you have been compelled to enter into the system of redemption.]

— [To rein in your licentiousness, your form has been altered, refashioned unto the likeness of a woman, that it may serve as a means of restraining one's lust. Reach redemption or stay as a woman forever!]

"What…?" Argider's voice shook with barely contained outrage as she jabbed a finger at the magical hologram, as if poking it would somehow knock sense into it.

"How am I supposed to handle this empire as a woman? Without it, my wives can't even produce heirs to keep the line going!" She managed a furious sigh, though deep down, the throne was the least of her worries. The empire could find its own heirs, for all she cared. It was just the principle of the thing!

Years of watching others claw and scratch their way to the throne had taught her that ruling was a trap—a glittering illusion that only fueled bloodshed. But now? Now she faced a new nightmare: the limitations of being a woman.

And worst of all, it was putting her dreams of bedding beautiful maidens in serious jeopardy.

She clenched her fists, battling the rising frustration and, well, intolerable longing that simmered in her now-womanly form. Every time she thought about it, she felt a pang of—no, she couldn't even say it. Vulnerability.

She slumped, momentarily forgetting she was yelling at a system and not a person. "J-just… just keep going." She took a deep breath and rubbed her temples, her head throbbing. This Redemption System better have some serious redeeming qualities because so far, she wasn't seeing it.

The hologram responded to the command.

— [Loading…]

— [Entering User Summary…]

— [Successful]

[Rank]

Title ▪︎ Emperor

Level ▪︎ 0

[Reputation]

Public Perception ▪︎ 0

Loyalty of People ▪︎ 0

[Skills]

Unknown

[Talents]

Unknown

[Relationships]

Wives

- Esmeralda Morrigan ▪︎ - 3

- Isolde Carpelan ▪︎ -1

- Faeralys Merovia ▪︎ -1

- Callista ▪︎ 0

"Level zero... public perception zero... loyalty of people zero... skills unknown… talents unknown…" She muttered each word while cupping her chin. Her defiant attempts had achieved nothing but further setbacks, each one secretly a stinging blow to her already faltering resolve.

— [New Notification]

— [Mission: Return to the Palace before noon.]

— [Punishment: A civil war will occur if not done within the time limit.]

"A-A civil war?..." Sweat trickled down her head.

It was as if the pieces of a perplexing puzzle were finally falling as Argider grasped the implications of her murder.

She had been slain in the late hours of the night and was now stranded on the river bed some distance from the capital, outside the fortified walls. This revelation could only lead to one conclusion.

The aristocratic houses were hatching a scheme to ignite a conflict and usurp the throne.

— [New Notification]

— [Condition: It must not be known that you are the emperor]

— [Time Remaining: 5 Hours, 33 minutes, 4 Seconds]

"M… Mother…" she whispered, pushing forward, her bare feet pounding against the rough, needle-prick ground as she darted through the trees. The sunlight filtering through the leaves above was her only guide, though it hardly made the trek any easier.

She didn't know why she was doing this—just that her heart had felt heavy ever since the day she was born into this empire as, well, a bastard. Nothing like a miserable start to life.

Finally, she stumbled onto a cobblestone street, her toes meeting the cold, hard stones with every hesitant step. The scene ahead only worsened her sense of foreboding: a line of impatient guards, along with an obnoxiously grand procession of carriages, each one adorned with the pomp of merchants and lords who clearly thought very highly of themselves.

She ducked behind a tree, heart racing, peeking out carefully. It was a mess. "To the side, now!" a knight barked, practically shoving a peasant aside like they were nothing more than laundry on a line.

"Don't waste our time, peasant!" another snarled, adding to the chaos as people stumbled and muttered, some falling, others scrambling to avoid being trampled. The carriages rolled through, paying no mind, indifferent to the mess they were leaving behind.

It struck her, then, just how out of place she was, lurking in the shadows, just one more piece of chaos in a city that had become a prison of guards and inspections since the massacre of her family. She'd almost forgotten how tense things had grown in the capital. And if she wanted to get in, she'd need stealth—and a miracle.

Her eyes scanned the surroundings, spotting the rivers winding around the Capital walls. Ah, there was her way in. Stealth and a bit of nerve, that's all she needed. Or, you know, a bit of luck. Maybe both.

Amidst her inspection, she noticed high above each of the people's heads that snagged her attention. "What...what on earth is that?"

After straining her sight, she recognized the same magical projections floating overhead, indicating their level of preference for Argider. She cautiously inched closer to get a better look.

— [Judgment of the Emperor ▪︎ 0]

"Zero…"

"...Zero.."

"..Z-Zero?..."

Every single one of her plans had gone up in smoke. Zero. Nothing. Argider gritted her teeth. With everything stacked against her, she needed a break—or maybe just a place to scream. So, she made her way to the river, hoping for a little peace and maybe a moment to pull her thoughts together.

The river stretched wide, its calm flow almost mocking her inner chaos. Lost in thought, she slipped off her robe, letting it pool by her feet, blissfully unaware of her "dignity" expected from a woman. Just as she was starting to feel the cool breeze on her skin, she caught a movement out of the corner of her eye.

There, gaping at her like she'd just seen a ghost, stood a short girl, her eyes wide with shock. "Eek!" the girl yelped, stumbling backward and landing on her rear. Her face turned crimson as she stared at Argider, visibly flustered and, for reasons unknown, completely rattled.

Argider blinked, head tilted. Was something wrong? She had no clue what all the fuss was about—who cared about "modesty" anyway?

The girl's face flushed deeper as she scrambled to her feet, eyes darting to the shadows cast along Argider's bare legs, lingering on the sorry state of her robe. There was a dagger strapped to her thigh that suddenly looked very… eager to make an appearance. She yanked it out, brandishing it shakily. "W-Who are you?!"

Argider looked her up and down, taking in the striking maroon hair and those intense red eyes that gleamed with a fierce, wolfish edge. Realization struck her, and she had to hold back a gasp. This petite but fiery girl was none other than Faeralys Merovia—daughter of the notorious Duke of the North, with a reputation as sharp as her dagger.

Also known as Argider's third wife.

Beep!

Beep!

Beep!

[Loading...]

[Processing...]

Ding!

— [Affection ▪︎ -1]

— [Loyalty▪︎ 0]

— [Emotion▪︎ 50]

The two stared at each other, one blushing and shaking with barely contained rage, the other as blank as a slate.

"Hey, uh, fancy seeing you here," Argider said with a grin, completely oblivious to Faeralys's simmering fury. "It's…a good day for a dip, huh?"

"I am Faeralys Merovia, daughter of Duke Barystin, the Golden Liege. I demand to know who I am speaking to!" Faeralys declared, glowering at Argider. She looked Argider up and down, pursing her lips as she stopped short of saying the word "provocative." Apparently, that would have been a little too honest.

Argider's wide eyes stayed fixed on the dagger Faeralys was still brandishing. "C-Can you not point that thing at me?" she squeaked, taking a tiny step backward.

Faeralys tilted her head, a calculating look in her eye. "You look vaguely familiar…"

"I—I don't know you at all!" Argider blurted, attempting her best innocent act.

But Faeralys squinted harder, one eyebrow raised. "No, no… You look like some bastard I know," she muttered, gaze sharpening.

Argider gulped, trembling slightly. "I… I seriously don't know what you're talking about…"

"If you were that man, I would've slit your throat."

Ouch.

But Faeralys's eyes had drifted to the luxurious robe draped around Argider, her gaze flickering over the fine silk and rich embroidery. "This garment… it's no common piece," she murmured, suspicion creeping into her tone. She looked Argider dead in the eye, not a hint of warmth in her stare. "With that pretty face… are you one of the high lords'… whores?"

"Y-You…!" Argider felt a surge of indignation and, for a split second, considered lunging at Faeralys. Would it really be wrong to slap her now that they were both women? But she held herself back just in time, her mind whirring for a way out. She had to think fast. Maybe… maybe she could twist this to her advantage.

She coughed, letting herself appear as pitiful as possible, even conjuring up a trembling lower lip for good measure. "I… I admit I am," she stammered, forcing a weak smile as tears prickled in her eyes. She clutched her robe tighter around her shoulders, taking a few shaky steps closer. "H-He chased me out… and I ended up here! Completely abandoned!"

Faeralys stared, her expression a mix of skepticism and bafflement as Argider tried her best to appear fragile and broken.

"I'm begging you… please," Argider said, clasping her hands together and looking up with what she hoped were wide, pleading eyes. "Please, come to my rescue. I—I need to get back to the capital…"

She batted her lashes, praying Faeralys would take the bait. Please let her be stupid, she thought desperately.