Chapter 154: Three Souls, One Woman

*** Highwood (6:13 A.M.) – Third Person POV

It was early morning in the depths of Highwood’s thick forests. The air was full of the sounds of magical beasts and wild creatures—and, strangely, the smell of ale and steel. All of it surrounded the entrance to a covered cave.

Inside…

“Tell me. What did you see?”

Evelina stood over the lone surviving dwarf, her boot pressing down on his chest as he lay on the packed earth. Somehow, he had managed to hide during Vance’s invasion of Highwood.

Evelina was here for one reason: to discover what Vance Arden had used to seize such a contested, hostile land so quickly that even the D’Arclights had been caught off guard.

She had seen the new Marquis unveil his mysterious new patron, but what she witnessed hadn’t been enough.

She needed more answers—for herself, and for her father.

“S–Spare me, please!”

“Quit your begging, worm. Speak, and you may live.”

Evelina pressed her boot harder into the dwarf’s chest, her heel threatening to pierce through his ribs if he didn’t talk. She could have just used her mind‑reading magic, but she had no intention of letting that spoil her sadistic fun.

“I-It was just darkness!” he cried. “That was it—that’s all I saw before all my comrades were slain! I promise!”

Evelina sighed. This wasn’t the first dwarf she had found over these countless miles, hiding in whatever hole he could fit in. She had already gone through hundreds of pitiful survivors.

All of them said the same thing.

“Useless.”

[Dark Manipulation]

Shadow coiled around her fingers as she conjured a ring of darkness around the dwarf’s neck. It tightened, choking the life out of him. A moment later, his body went limp.

Once again, she left the cave with no new information.

BEEP!

“Nothing. They all say the same thing,” she reported.

Evelina spoke into the transceiver, tapping her foot in irritation. On the other end of the line, she could clearly hear her father threatening someone as well.

He was running his own investigation.

“I’m a bit busy, sweetie,” her father said. “But yeah, I’ve got no leads either. This search has been useless. Go rest and regain your strength. Wait for my next instructions.”

“Fine, Father.”

BEEP!

She crossed her arms and slipped the transceiver into the pocket of her skirt.

“I could’ve been sleeping in Cael’s bed right now…” she muttered.

She pinched the bridge of her nose, annoyed and exhausted.

Then…

Darkness surged from beneath her. A huge inky circle spread from her feet to her thighs, swallowing her whole.

“W-What!? What is this!?”

She tried to cast a spell and escape, but it was useless. Her magic wouldn’t form, as if the darkness around her were chaos magic, tearing her spells apart before they could even take shape.

Here.

A terrifying voice echoed in her mind. Evelina’s eyes flew wide as a sharp pain stabbed through her skull.

The pain was so intense she had to squeeze her eyes shut just to keep from passing out.

FWOOSH!

In an instant, the pain vanished. So did the darkness that had engulfed her.

Something else rushed in to replace it.

Memories.

Not hers—two other people’s.

“W-What’s this?” she whispered.

One set of memories belonged to someone named Fiona. The other came from someone called T‑1… Trish? More importantly, buried in both women’s memories were two men: Cael, whom she knew, and another man who felt eerily similar to Cael.

“W-What did he get up to this time!?” Evelina hissed.

She didn’t know whether to be furious or just confused. Two lives’ worth of memories had crashed into her mind at once.

“Wait…”

She muttered to herself. She hadn’t just inherited their memories—she could feel their personalities, their quirks, their feelings for Cael… and for someone named Nathan.

“Nathan?” she echoed.

She already knew who it really was. It had to be Cael. The memories she’d taken even included this version of Cael explaining her—Evelina herself—to the woman whose memories she now carried.

It was all… incredibly confusing.

But Evelina had been trained to adopt false personas and keep her mind composed. She’d even studied demonology.

This wouldn’t break her, at least… not as easily. She’d read about things like this before—soul merging. But only a powerful demon could make it happen.

“B-Beelzebub,” she breathed.

She staggered toward a nearby tree, one hand braced against the trunk. She remembered Cael wearing Beelzebub’s ring before. Had he… made another deal with the demon prince?

And if so, what kind of deal dragged her into this—and stuffed her full of two other women’s memories, both of whom clearly loved him as much as she did?

“Should I be jealous? Enraged? He was obviously spending time with other women!” She flipped through Fiona’s memories and froze. “And this one’s recent!”

But…

“But wait, I’m technically them now? W-What?”

Evelina didn’t know how to react. She could feel herself becoming more bubbly than usual, her own emotions mixing with Fiona’s and Trish’s.

Her legs trembled. Evelina bit her lower lip and forced herself to sit, dropping to the ground.

Her mind struggled to keep up.

“I-I need to absorb all this information…”

She sat on the packed earth, wrapping her arms around her knees as she tried to process the storm in her head.

First, there was Fiona, daughter of the Whitestrake family—the powerful patrons of the Cold Iron District. Second, Trish… or T‑1…

Evelina didn’t even know where to begin.

Their world was completely different: too modern, too bland—and, most importantly, why was Cael there?

Was it some distant continent she’d never heard of? Or worse… why did he look so old there?

She focused harder. Despite the differences between the two lives, one event bound them together.

Both women died in almost the exact same way.

“T-That… did he…?”

Evelina’s thoughts tangled.

“Was Trish his lover before me?” She bit her lip. That was… barely acceptable. “Fine. But Fiona? Why is he with another girl again?”

She pushed herself back to her feet.

“And why are their souls inside me now?” / “Did Cael revive me!?” / “Where am I!?”

Three voices echoed inside her skull, overlapping, clashing—yet somehow, they were all her.

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