A pair of hands squished his cheeks, followed by a sharp, affectionate pinch.
"Aww, look at him! He's pouting again! It's just too precious!"
Neo let out a long, exhausted sigh that manifested as a tiny, high-pitched huff. He swatted at the offending hand, pulling his face away and settling for the darkest glare a nearly five-year-old could possibly muster.
"Oh my goodness, so fierce!" the young maid squealed, completely unfazed by his killing intent. She covered her mouth to stifle a giggle, dropped a bouncy curtsy, and hurried down the hallway with an armful of fresh white linens.
'I am the heir to the most terrifying military family in the Empire,' Neo complained internally, rubbing his sore, chubby cheeks. 'I blew a hole in a reinforced stone wall three days ago. Show some respect!'
But alas, the world was cruel.
It had been exactly three days since his little... accident. Ever since he forcefully broke through the bottleneck and awakened his Mana Core, his life had completely changed. And not exactly for the better.
You would think that proving himself to be an unprecedented magical prodigy would grant him a little bit of personal space. It did the exact opposite.
Sylvia, his usually composed and graceful mother, had basically turned into a human koala. She refused to let him out of her sight for more than five minutes. It was as if she genuinely believed that if she blinked too slowly, her genius baby boy would spontaneously combust or float away into the stratosphere. She carried him everywhere, constantly pressing her hand to his stomach to check the stability of his newly formed core, her face a permanent mix of awe, pride, and lingering maternal terror.
Even now, as he sat marooned on a plush velvet sofa in the grand parlor, Sylvia hovered just a few feet away, directing a small army of servants.
The Draven mansion was operating at a level of frantic chaos that rivaled a military deployment. Tomorrow was the big day. Neo's fifth birthday. The massive ball that had been planned for months was finally upon them, and the tension in the air was thick enough to cut with a broadsword.
Servants practically sprinted across the marble floors. High above, wind mages floated delicately along the ceiling, polishing the massive crystal chandeliers until they gleamed. Massive bouquets of rare, glowing night-lilies were being arranged along the grand staircases.
"No, no, move the ice sculpture closer to the main pillar! And tell the kitchen to double the sugar in the pastries—the capital nobles have a sweet tooth!" Sylvia commanded, pointing gracefully toward the dining hall.
Neo slumped back against the sofa cushions, his feet dangling uselessly over the edge.
Boredom was eating away at his soul. He wasn't allowed to train. He wasn't allowed to go outside because of the frantic carriages arriving with supplies. He was just a living, breathing decoration waiting to be shown off to the entire Empire tomorrow.
Just as his eyelids started to droop, Sylvia turned around. Her striking blue eyes softened instantly the moment they landed on him. The commanding Archmage melted back into a doting mother in less than a second.
She walked over, her heavy silk dress rustling against the floor, and sat beside him. She gently tucked a stray strand of white hair behind his ear.
"Don't worry, my little Neo," Sylvia said softly, her lips curving into a warm smile.
"You won't have to feel bored for much longer."
He blinked, looking up at her curiously.
"You know my best friend is coming today, right? She's arriving a day early to help me with the final preparations," Sylvia continued, her eyes sparkling.
"And the best part is, she has a child exactly your age. A little girl. You can finally have a friend to play with!"
A friend.
His inner adult brain scoffed. 'Great,' Neo thought sarcastically.
'Another snot-nosed, crying toddler I have to pretend to be entertained by. Just what my secret training arc needed. Playdates.'
He opened his mouth, about to ask exactly whose kid he was going to be babysitting for the afternoon, when a sudden sound interrupted them.
The heavy, rhythmic crunch of wooden wheels against the white gravel driveway echoed through the open windows of the parlor, followed by the loud snort of horses right outside the main entrance.
"Oh! They're here!" Sylvia gasped, her face lighting up.
She stood gracefully and reached down, grabbing his small hand. He didn't resist. He hopped off the sofa and let her lead him out of the parlor and into the massive entrance hall.
The towering oak doors of the mansion were already being pulled open by two muscular footmen. Bright, crisp afternoon sunlight flooded into the hall, temporarily blinding him.
Outside, parked perfectly at the base of the grand stone steps, was a sleek, pitch-black carriage adorned with silver trimmings. The crest on the door—a silver crescent moon wrapped in thorny vines—glinted under the sun.
The carriage door swung open with a sharp click. A tall, handsome nobleman with slicked-back blonde hair stepped out first. Sporting a warm, easygoing smile, he turned around and offered his hand to his wife—a stunningly beautiful woman with cascading silver hair and kind, laughing eyes.
But it wasn't the adults that caught Neo's attention.
The nobleman turned back to the carriage, chuckling softly, and reached his large hands inside. "Come on out, my little star," he said affectionately.
He pulled a small figure out of the carriage, settling her comfortably into his arms.
It was a little girl.
She was tiny, dressed in a pristine, ruffled black gothic dress that looked entirely too somber for a five-year-old. Her hair was a striking shade of pure silver, falling completely straight past her little shoulders. It shimmered in the afternoon light like spun moonlight.
And then, she turned her head. She looked toward the mansion.
Her eyes met Neo's.
Neo's heart didn't just skip a beat; it seized completely in his chest.
They were violet. A deep, chilling shade of violet that looked less like a human eye color and more like shattered amethysts frozen in glacial ice.
A violent chill shot straight up his spine, paralyzing his vocal cords. The air in his lungs suddenly felt like lead.
His brain, sluggish and bored just seconds ago, slammed into overdrive. The memories from his past life—the late-night binge-watching, the wiki pages, the lore of Shattered Crown—exploded in his mind.
Silver hair. Violet eyes. The crescent moon crest.
'No. No, no, no, no!!'
Absolute panic gripped his soul.
She was Nora Valentina.
The Silver-Haired Reaper. The Calamity in Human Skin. The Final Villainess of the entire story.
In the original anime, Nora Valentina wasn't just a bad guy; she was a natural disaster walking on two legs. She was a distant, terrifying existence. A genius mage whose heart was as cold as her eyes. She stood alone at the absolute apex of the world, feared by kings, emperors, and dragons alike.
In the final, blood-soaked arc, she literally burned the capital kingdom to ashes. She turned the sky black and slaughtered thousands without a single change in her expression, all before the Hero finally defeated her in a tragic, earth-shattering showdown.
That was her role. She was untouchable. She was doomed.
But right now, seeing her in the flesh... the reality of her existence was terrifying. Because he knew her secret. He knew the power scaling of this world.
In this empire, the Awakener ranking system was absolute law. It was an arduous, brutal climb from Initiate, up through Apprentice, Adept, Expert, Master, Grandmaster, Saint, Sovereign, Paragon, and finally, Ascendant.
Reaching the Saint rank made you a national treasure—like his mother, an early-stage Saint Archmage.
Reaching 'Ascendant' made you a literal demigod. Neo's father, Cassian, the terrifying Demon of the Battlefield? He was a peak Ascendant before he died in the 'original' Story. And he is currently in peak Saint rank.
But there was one more rank. A mythical, theoretically impossible eleventh tier.
Primordial.
Nora Valentina was the first and only person in the entire history of the Velkrath Empire to organically breach the Primordial rank. She was a monster wearing human skin.
Even Kael, the male lead who possessed that ridiculous, reality-breaking System, couldn't reach Primordial before she did. She was entirely out of his league for ninety-nine percent of the story. It was only at the very end, when she was on the brink of destroying the world, that the male lead triggered a hidden Cheat Quest and forced his way into the Primordial rank through sheer plot armor to defeat her.
She was the Final Villainess for a reason. She was the ceiling of power.
And now, the ceiling of power was a five-year-old girl staring blankly at him from her father's arms.
Neo swallowed hard, his throat sandpaper dry.
She hadn't even awakened her core yet. She was just a kid. But looking at her face, he felt a genuine fear clawing at his chest.
She was completely expressionless.
Most kids her age would be squirming, looking around at the grand mansion, hiding their faces in their father's neck, or smiling. But Nora just stared. Her violet eyes were blank, devoid of any childlike wonder, curiosity, or warmth. It was like looking into a beautifully painted doll with nothing behind its eyes.
He honestly doubted if she was even a normal child right now. She looked so deadpan, so intensely indifferent to the world, that it sent shivers down his arms.
'Note to self,' he screamed internally, his survival instincts blaring like air raid sirens. 'DO NOT. OFFEND. HER.'
"Sylvia!"
The silver-haired woman—Nora's mother—broke the heavy silence. She glided up the stone steps, her face breaking into a massive, radiant smile as she threw her arms around Neo's mother.
"Elara! It's been too long!" Sylvia laughed brightly, hugging her best friend tightly.
"We came as quickly as we could. The roads were surprisingly clear," the blonde nobleman said, stepping up with Nora still resting blankly in his arms. He offered Sylvia a charming bow. "Duchess Sylvia. You look as radiant as ever. Where is the terrifying husband of yours?"
Sylvia rolled her eyes playfully. "Cassian is buried under a mountain of paperwork in his office. He's trying to finish everything today so he can actually enjoy his son's birthday tomorrow. He'll come down for dinner, I promise."
"Good to hear," the man chuckled.
Elara pulled back from the hug and immediately dropped her gaze. Her eyes locked onto Neo, who was standing frozen slightly behind Sylvia's skirt.
"Oh... my... goodness," Elara gasped.
She crouched down to his eye level, completely losing her aristocratic composure. She looked at Neo with an expression of pure, unfiltered adoration, exactly the way someone looks at a fluffy, helpless puppy in a pet store window.
"Sylvia, he is absolutely perfect!" Elara squealed softly. She reached out and gently patted his white hair. "Look at those cheeks! And his eyes are just like yours! Hello there, little Neo. I'm your Auntie Elara."
Neo forced his facial muscles to twitch upward. He produced what he hoped was a cute, innocent toddler smile, but internally, he was sweating bullets.
His eyes briefly flicked upward.
Over Elara's shoulder, still resting in her father's arms, Nora was looking down at him.
Her violet eyes didn't blink. Her face didn't change. She just stared at his forced smile with that cold, terrifying, doll-like indifference.
'Yep,' Neo thought, his heart hammering a frantic rhythm against his ribs. 'I am going to survive this playdate if it's the last thing I do. I will be the best, most unproblematic friend in the history of this empire.'
Because if life didn't follow scripts when you poked at them... he was going to make damn sure he didn't poke the Reaper.