NOVEL NEXT Chapter 1 Start
The first thing he knew was pain—sharp, searing, as though his spine had been shattered.
His eyes snapped open. His cheek rested against something cold and smooth—marble, polished so perfectly that his breath left a faint smear of fog upon it.
He looked around. This wasn't his apartment. No ceiling fan. No flickering light bulb in the dark.
Instead: golden pillars rising like giants. Red banners spilling down, streaming like blood.
At the far end stood a throne of dark stone, draped in silk that gleamed like oil. Around it, a circle of guards—faces hidden behind masks, swords poised, expressionless.
"…What…" dazed, his thoughts scattering. What the hell is happening? But before he could think clearly—
Footsteps replied to him — measured, each heel click sounding like a clock ticking down.
Out of shadows stepped a woman with silvered hair and red eyes. Her robes flowed around her movements, catching firelight in waves.
"Rise," she spoke.
He remained in place. Not out of defiance, but out of the numb shock that made his limbs seem chiselled out of lead.
A guard shifted. A boot hit his ribs. He gasped and rolled onto his knees.
The woman didn't glance at him again — her eyes slid to a robed man beside her.
The man unrolled a scroll. Symbols the color of running gold rose off the parchment, floating up like sparks. His voice was lrhythmic in some unknown language.
[Binding in Progress]
Source: External Ritual
Response: Forced Link Attempt Detected
The words throbbed once, and a burden crashed against his shoulders. His head fell forward — not his choice.
Protocol Engaged: Obedience
Loyalty Requirement: 90%
Disobedience Penalty: Active
The scroll consumed itself in a flood of golden ash.
She moved in closer, kneeling until her gaze was on his level. Her finger slowly lifted his chin and she looking directly into his eyes.
"You are mine now," she said, her voice soft. "Serve well, and you'll live. Refuse. and you'll wish you hadn't."
Something intangible changed within him. His muscles responded before he decided to move them. She turned to leave. His body obeyed.
The hallways were wide and still. The servants bowed their heads as they walked by.
[Location Unlocked: Serpent Wing – Royal District]
[+5 EXP for Obedience]
[Skill Fragment: Threat Perception Lv. 1]
[Loyalty Sync: 3%]
They entered a room full of velvet, incense swirling in the toasty air. Pillows littered the floor. A steaming bath placed in gold.
She stepped over to a chaise and sat, not reclining but examining — her eyes traveling over him like a jeweler inspecting a blemished gem.
"You have watchful eyes," she said, nearly to herself. "The sort that spot danger." Her head tilted a little. "But tell me—do they see me as beautiful?"
The question slipped in so easily it felt like part of the same examination. His lips formed words without his leave.
"Yes."
[Command Fulfilled: +10 EXP]
[Loyalty Sync: 5%]
Her lips smiled — approval, but guarded. "Good. A man guards what he cares about. Do not forget it."
She stood up and went to the window. The blood-orange sky colored the empire in fire and shadow. When she turned again, her tread was slow, her face inscrutable.
At the golden basin, she let her fingers trail the rim. "Wait outside," she said, the command crisp, final. "You're not needed for this."
His body obeyed before he could decide what to do.
The door closed softly behind him, and he was left standing outside. He was finally able to breathe freely without someone keeping guard over him.
Then suddenly.
Memories spilled into him like floodwater through a broken dam.
He watched a lad dodging between market stalls, bread cradled under his arm, smile flashing over the yells behind him. Banners streaming overhead, music and laughter filled the air.
The name came up from the depths: Reth.
Nineteen. Born in the outside city. No crest, no title—just fastness, keen eyes, and a blade hand that can turn heads by itself. And pride. Enough to turn down the offer of being a noble's bodyguard.
A week after that, he was pulled from his bed at midnight. Black-clad men moved in with torchlight casting glints off steel. Chains bit into his wrists. The cell that they hurled him into was a hunk of ice and rock. Unusual runes smoldered dimly along the ground. Incense clung heavy in the air until it drowned out each breath. Then the chanting, the ritual—and nothing.
Now that body was his.
[Memory Assimilation: 67%]
[Body Synchronization: Stable]
[Combat Instincts Inherited: 30%]
[Skill Unlocked — Basic Sword Technique (Lv. 1)]
He rested against the wall. Reth had talent and pride—both handicaps here. Survival would require doing what Reth could not.
[Loyalty Sync: 6%]
[Title Pending: "Bound Blade"]
[Side Quest: Survive 7 Days Without Triggering Punishment]
The door creaked open once more. Steam floated by, warm and smelling faintly of flowers. Asthia came into the view, wearing a black robe tied with a cord of gold. Silver hair that was damp clung to her face.
Damp silver hair stuck to her face. She looked at him before taking a step in the direction of the corridor.
She gave him a look before making a move towards the corridor.
"Come."
He hesitated initially, but had no choice but to follow her inside.
By what he knows from the memories the palace was a deadly location—the empire, the throne, the princess herself. But if Reth's pride had gotten him tied up, his own survival would be through submission. At least until he could reverse the game.
He had died once before. He recalled the fall, the crack, the silence that followed. And now this.
Transmigration. Reincarnation. A system of binding. An obedience procedure. Yesterday, he would have laughed if he was told to describe it. But now? He'd watched enough late-night isekai dramas and webnovels to see the pattern. Dead on his home planet, awakened in another form, bound to a deadly woman who could kill him with a mere whisper.
It was a textbook. The kind he used to indulge in for entertainment. But this time, he was stuck inside.
He swallowed, parched lips, and trailed her into darkness.