Chapter 5: The Turning Point

The man—or whatever it happened to be—who brought him from the cabin to here walked beside him, his steps firm, he glanced slightly to the side, the man appeared as an ancient and powerful elder, wearing an elegant medieval noble's vest, possessed a palpable aura, even to Karl, who knew nothing of magic.

Karl could barely keep his head raised—just enough to see what awaited him ahead.

They led him along the path toward the mansion.

Thunder cracked. A bolt of lightning split the sky and struck somewhere along the path, close enough to make the ground tremble beneath his feet.

Thunder now? Classic.

No—this wasn't the time to analyze that.

As he drew closer, towers multiplied, walls swallowed the road

The place wasn't built merely for living—this became clear at first glance.

This isn't a mansion…

It's a palace.

A dark palace of polished stone and black marble, its tall pillars supporting wide balconies and yellowed windows.

The doors loomed dark. Two rows of guards aligned from the base of the stairway to the main entrance. Each in full armor, eyes glowing in shades of red, motionless as statues.

They didn't move even to breathe.

The passage between them ran narrow, tight enough for only one group to pass side by side at a time.

Karl felt the eyes of each guard following him as he got dragged along the path, his feet scraping on the stone steps.

This time, I'm done for, no way I can escape from these guys.

They entered.

The old man wanted a witness for information… I can't even imagine how the extraction will go. Haha—better not think about it.

The inner hall stretched wide, dark, with fire torches attached to the walls, casting dancing shadows everywhere.

Black curtains covered part of the walls, and at the back of the hall, elevated on a wide platform of gleaming stone steps, stood the throne. Several candles flickered, as if to make the environment more gothic.

And on the throne… her.

Karl recognized her immediately; he already knew the world he got transported to. No room remained for more denial.

The seated figure stood utterly detached from the world around her. She appeared young—roughly twenty—but carried the weight of far more.

Porcelain-pale skin, long white hair cascading past her shoulders, stopping only a few centimeters short of her legs.

How could I forget?

The air tightened. His chest resisted the next breath.

The one responsible for nearly making him quit at the start of the game. The reason for the forum wars. The endless nerf requests.

A faint shift of her fingers sent a ripple through the chamber.

The moment they entered the hall, her gaze locked onto them.

She had even been used as the face of the game's promotions.

In the artwork, she sat on her throne, perfectly calm, gazing down at the hero's party as if they posed no threat at all. She had become iconic.

Maybe that was why the developers never nerfed her—despite the backlash and the one-hit kill abilities.

The elder dropped Karl 11 meters from the throne

She wore a dress of nobility—in a dark purple tone, with meticulous details. But what drew the most attention—the eyes.

Shining rubies.

She neither smiled nor frowned. She simply stared at him. One leg crossed over the other, slender fingers resting lightly on the arm of the throne—an expression that suggested the entire world remained under her control.

Appearances deceive. I know that well.

The most dangerous ones always look harmless.

Karl remained where they had dropped him. The man who brought him there stepped forward and bowed before the throne.

Karl could barely stand. When he tried to lift his head, an invisible pressure bore down on him, as if her very presence crushed his bones from within.

She finally spoke, her voice calm—unquestionably authoritative.

"This is the only one remaining?"

The hall fell silent.

Nothing moved. Nothing breathed.

Only her eyes gleamed in the dim light.

And Karl understood—without needing confirmation.

She sat at the top of the food chain in this macabre world.

Any lingering doubt vanished the moment he recognized her.

Sadly, I never finished that game.

Never imagined I'd end up isekai'd into it.

And now? No clue what to do.

Her minions alone were enough to kill me.

And her…

A mid-game boss the community swore had killed more players than the final boss itself.

Not defeated by strength alone—but because the script demanded it.

The Hero's party carried tools designed specifically to kill her.

Skills tailored for that single purpose.

And retries.

Endless retries.

More than a hundred of them.

She was brutally unbalanced—deliberately so.

Otherwise, the game would have ended far too quickly.

Before anyone could answer her, Karl looked up and held her gaze longer than he should have.

The Ring of Wisdom reacted.

Information flooded his vision.

Name: Alice Von Hollowfar

Title: "The Tyrant Maiden of the Snow Raven Realm"

Soul Level: IMMEASURABLE

STR ???

DEX ???

CON ???

INT ???

WIS ???

FAITH ???

Error.

User lacks sufficient authority and mana to analyze the target.

Warning.

The soul of the sage speaks:

"It was good to meet you, being from another world."

Now you decide to give me information? Karl scoffed inwardly.

Just to mock me?

A response followed immediately.

"Child… what were you doing in my lands? I expect a convincing reason if you wish to be spared from the crime of trespassing."

One of her loyal servants stepped forward.

"Your majesty, he may be a scout—sent by the humans to uncover our weaknesses. He was found in Experimental Zone 7."

Alice interrupted him without even turning her head—only her eyes shifted.

"I don't recall granting you permission to speak."

A heavy, sinister aura flooded the hall.

The servant collapsed, clawing at the floor as his body convulsed.

"Cough… s-sor… ry…"

The aura vanished as abruptly as it had appeared.

Alice spoke again.

"Child—what is your name, and what were you doing in my lands?"

He stood physically broken, shifted his gaze downward and said.

"Karl. All I know is I woke up here—"

Swoosh!

She sat on the throne, around 11 meters distant from him.

But in less than 1 second, she stood before Karl.

Extreme fear gripped him—unnatural, cold, sinking deep.

What bizarre air, and what fear is this?

Noticing it wasn't normal.

Abnormal Status.

Fear—

She quickly lifted his chin and looked deep into his eyes. He felt as if something invaded his very being.

***

Her eyes—twin rubies glowing brighter as she tore through the veil between soul and mind.

And there, buried beneath layers of fear and exhaustion, she found it.

A black room.

Small. Cramped. Suffocating in its mundane poverty.

A younger version of him, a boy sat hunched before a strange artifact—flat, rectangular, glowing with cold light. No flame. No mana.

Yet it pulsed with movement and sound, images dancing across its surface like captured dreams.

On that impossible canvas, a world unfolded.

Her world.

Rendered in colors too vivid, too sharp. Flattened into something both familiar and grotesquely wrong.

And there—

She saw the heroes.

Dying.

The Hero's party charged her throne room—blades raised, spells crackling, holy light blazing.

She obliterated them.

A wave of her hand. They crumpled like broken dolls.

The images rewound.

Again.

The same heroes. The same futile assault. The same inevitable slaughter.

Again.

And again.

The boy's hands clutched a strange talisman, fingers moving across its surface as he commanded forces beyond his flesh—watching those heroes go into death after death.

She watched them die to her.

Ten times.

Twenty.

Fifty.

A hundred.

Each time, they fell. Each time, the world reset. Each time, he tried something different—a new spell, a new formation, a desperate gamble.

All failures.

Until—

The two hundred twenty-two attempt.

Something changed. A different sequence. A weakness exploited. Holy chains wrapped around her, binding her power just long enough for the Mage to sequence numerous magics.

The Rogue didn't miss that opportunity; his daggers tore the flesh from her back.

The Saintess, while crying, spoke:

"I am sorry, but we don't… have another choice…" while using all her mana in a last light spell.

And in the end, the Hero's sacred sword pierced her heart.

He spoke:

"Your reign ends here, Tyrant." He twisted the sacred steel. "May you find judgment in the afterlife."

Then he took the sword from her.

She fell.

For the first time in two hundred twenty-two attempts, she died.

After that they just leave, after picking up the fallen comrade.

And the boy watching everything.

Alice's jaw tightened.

She pulled back, severing the connection.

***

The throne room snapped into focus. Karl—still stood before her, unaware of how deeply she had seen.

Around the hall, her servants shifted. Whispers rippled through the ranks.

Their Empress had never invaded a mind for so long.

"This is uncommon" muttered some minions in the back

Alice's expression remained unchanged—cold, regal, unreadable.

But her eyes lingered on him a moment longer.

"Interesting," she murmured.

She looked and kept looking for a time. All the servants grew surprised and murmured to one another.

"Not normal for her to do this for so long. Who is this human?"

She continued.

"Interesting. You know this world. You saw me die. You saw every enemy I know—and some I don't. You know so many things, yet you arrived here only a day ago. This is the most bizarre thing I've ever witnessed—"

"That makes two of us, then." Karl spoke without fear of death—no way to escape anyway.

She smiled and spoke again

"Hmm. I like you. From now on, you are my subordinate, and you will obey me. Don't even think of refusing. My word is law, and you live by serving me."

She continued:

"What an interesting ability. You could see the future through some kind of box with square paintings. Well, if what you saw indeed proves true, during the great banquet of lords my castle will face invasion—which, despite my victory, will bring me immeasurable long-term damage—"

"Which will trigger countless events, resulting in something impossible to believe."

Then she let go of his face

"Also, Demitri, send some of the lackeys from the magic sector to verify the border with the Shadow Woods, to confirm whether enemies have installations for a future invasion. If they do, certainly what I saw is true."

Demitri, a Doppelganger resembling a vampire and one of the villain's 4 generals, responded:

"Yes, your majesty."

Alice's gaze drifted upward—away from Karl, away from her servants. Her eyes unfocused, as if replaying something only she could see.

Then she lifted his chin—

Again? If she takes everything, I will lose value here

He tried to turn his face away, but the villainess's hand gripped his chin with supernatural firmness.

She wasn't the hand-to-hand type, but her level must have been sky-high—her physical strength utterly unquestionable.

Her skin felt cold as ice. Not just the strength, but the crushing aura prevented him from even moving.

After a few seconds of oppressive silence, her lips curved into a malicious smile.

Just my luck

"Interesting… very interesting." Her voice came as a sharp whisper, laden with fascination and threat. "You know things no living being should know…"

Karl remained silent. Not much to say in that situation anyway. But from what he confirmed, his thoughts weren't visible—only memories.

Her eyes, ruby red, blazed with a mixture of surprise and dark excitement.

She had seen everything. Her own death, events yet to happen, the cruel fate awaiting her—when she had never known pain, let alone death.

"I should rip your head off right now." She slid her fingers across his face, as if pondering how easy it would be to crush him. "But… you might prove useful."

The villainess released him and moved slowly toward her modest throne—modest because she stood only five foot nine and slender—while her servants all averaged at least six foot three in height, with the exception of the maids.

As she approached the throne, her presence swelled, growing crushing and dominating the hall.

After climbing the stairs, she stood in front of the throne, turned, and looked down at him, then declared:

"Choose!" Her voice echoed off the cold stone walls.

Then she extended her arms forward toward Karl, opened both hands, and said: "Serve… or die!" while closing her right hand into a fist.

This scene… feels too familiar

Karl recalled a movie in that moment—it seemed like a reference, but the difference? This wasn't friendly.

In practice, only one option exists… for now.

Karl swallowed hard. He stood wounded, vulnerable, and knew escape wasn't an option. Beyond that, he knew this woman. In the game, she ranked among the most ruthless enemies.

An entire group of powerful characters faced her alone, and after many retries managed to win—and when he thought about that many, he meant probably over 111 times for someone playing for the first time. If grinded some extra XP.

Even the best veteran players sometimes died to her accidentally, after all it remained an extremely difficult game—only hardcore players touched its offline campaign mode.

You leave me no choice…

And Karl, well, he couldn't attempt a second time after his death.

He knew refusing her offer meant certain death, or worse—a slow and painful one.

He clenched his fists. No choice...

"I... accept serving."

The villainess's smile widened, satisfied.

"Excellent. Then, stand. I accept no weak servants."

With a gesture of her hand, one of her lackeys brought a flask containing a dark liquid. He handed it to Karl.

Then she said.

"Drink."

He looked at the flask with hesitation. In the game, she used this elixir to strengthen her subordinates... but it also bound them to her in an inescapable way.

I can't believe this is the only option I have.

She killed the useless for any mistake, however small, and the marginally useful she called lackeys—they bore no names, only the generals received any dignified treatment. Especially those from one of the kingdom's noble families.

With heavy breathing, he brought the flask to his lips... and drank.

And then, everything changed.

As the dark liquid descended down his throat, a wave of heat coursed through Karl's body.

The pain consuming him slowly began to vanish, replaced by a strange sensation, as if something burned his veins from within.

His heart pulsed irregularly, accelerating and decelerating as if undergoing reconfiguration.

He leaned even closer to the floor, on his knees, gasping. His muscles locked. For one terrible instant his mind felt like glass about to shatter.

The villainess watched from above, arms crossed, smiling like someone who had already won.

"The transformation has already begun." Her voice was almost fond. "Now you're not a scrawny little thing anymore."

Karl's vision snapped into brutal clarity.

Something reached inside his skull. Not pain. Not sound.

Control.

What—

And then he felt it—threads wrapping around his thoughts, tightening with each heartbeat.

He tried to resist.

They pulled tighter.

Alice was suddenly at his ear, breath hot against skin whispering.

"Shhh."

"Let go."

Her voice dropped lower.

"Don't."

He didn't.