"Hm... You're surprisingly good at this," he murmured, eyes closed as he sipped his wine, savoring the unexpected massage his slave had initiated out of nowhere. It was obvious she was desperately trying to get on his good side—a wise decision, considering the alternative was far less desirable.
"I... learned it," she said hesitantly.
"For Jason, right?" he asked, watching as she bit her lip.
"Tell me everything I need to know."
She let out a quiet sigh before speaking. "The Nevana household just announced the banishment of Eren Nevana."
He merely nodded. "Reason?"
"I don't know," she admitted, shaking her head. "But maybe your sis—I mean, Ashley—knows something."
He took another slow sip of wine. "It doesn't matter. In the end, everything falls into place. Eren is dead, after all."
"What else?" he prompted.
"Regarding what you requested... I still need some time to finalize it."
"How much time?"
"A-about a month," she replied cautiously.
He sighed. "Fine. What else?"
"According to Lisandra, the church received a prophecy. On the day of the Trinity Festival, the goddess's most favored—the Blessed Son—will be revealed."
At this, he fell silent.
That aligned perfectly with his knowledge of future events. That would be the day Jason was revealed as the Blessed Son, securing the church's protection.
The nobles would scramble to form ties with him through marriage, and in the midst of it all, a dangerous villainess would emerge.
And he wanted that villainess.
She would be an even more useful pawn than Anna.
"The festival... how long until it happens?"
"A month."
His eyes darkened. "Accelerate the process of what I asked for. I want it done in two weeks."
"But—"
"No buts." His voice was sharp, final. He stood, abruptly ending the massage.
"I... understand," she said, her hands clenched tightly by her sides. But she didn't argue.
"Did you buy everything I asked for?" he asked.
Silently, she handed him a spatial ring.
He took it, inspecting it closely before slipping it onto his finger and channeling mana into it.
"Hm. Well done," he remarked before glancing at her. "What's the pin?"
"My—"
"Wait, let me guess. 2632." He tilted his head slightly.
Her eyes widened. "How did you know?"
"It was the most obvious choice. Your birthday—year and day. Don't overthink it," he said dismissively.
But she still looked startled.
How does he even know my birthday in the first place?
"You may go. I'll see you again in two weeks, dear Anna," he said before turning toward the other door—likely heading for the shower.
"Also. take that on your way out. You are to feed it to Jason when you get the chance. I want it done before I return—and trust me, I'll know if you don't," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.
She followed his gesture toward the table, her gaze landing on the small vial of blue liquid.
"What is it?" she asked, a hint of apprehension in her voice.
"It won't kill him. That's all you need to know," he replied dismissively, making no effort to elaborate.
Her eyes darkened with resentment as she stared at his back. Clenching her jaw, she stepped toward the table, picked up the vial, and cast him one last, lingering glance.
Then, as if remembering something, he added, "And don't try anything foolish, or I might just forget everything I promised."
"W-Wait," she hesitated.
He stopped. "What?"
"Your hair..." she murmured, frowning.
Eren pulled a handful of it forward—and froze. His hair had grown long, reaching his waist. Worse than that, it had turned gray.
Not normal gray.
The gray of the aged.
"Go," he said, his voice suddenly cold.
"But—"
"I said go. Now!" he shouted.
Her body tensed, and she hurried out without another word.
"Ugh." He held his forehead, trying to steady his breathing.
For a while now, he had felt the pain building up, his body burning with heat, but he had forced himself to endure it—refusing to show any sign of weakness in front of Anna.
Now, however, it was getting worse.
"I have to... leave before... she gets here," he stuttered, gasping for breath as he dragged himself toward the door in the corner. He reached it, gripping the handle with trembling fingers, and pulled it open, stepping into the bathroom.
Stumbling over to the mirror on the wall, he caught sight of his reflection—and froze.
"What the hell is happening to me?" His voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper.
His hand trembled as he reached up, touching the mask that covered his face. Hesitation flickered in his eyes, but he pulled it away, revealing the horror beneath.
"Ugh." He groaned, running his fingers over his face.
His hair—grey. Completely grey.
His skin—pale, almost lifeless.
And his eyes... They were no longer blue. Instead, an amethyst glow had begun to seep into his irises, overtaking their original color.
"Could... Could this be the drawback of the forbidden technique?" he murmured. It was the only explanation that made sense.
From the moment he realized how powerless he was after reincarnating into this world, he had become obsessed with gaining strength. His desperate search had led him far and wide, driven by an insatiable hunger for knowledge. And then, one day, he had found that book.
He had stumbled upon it in the black market, a place he had only learned about through his knowledge of this world.
But, the book hadn't warned him of its consequences. It hadn't said how long the effects would last.
Even now, he could still feel the power coursing through him, just as he had on the day he first used the technique. But something was different. Something was changing inside him.
"Wait... Why don't I just reverse my flow of mana?"