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When I woke up, I found myself in a burning city.

The familiar streets I once knew had turned into ruins, like the remnants of a battlefield ravaged by war.

Most of the surrounding buildings had collapsed and were engulfed in flas.

Standing amidst the devastation, I found it almost unbelievable that I was still alive.

Because in this entire area, I was the only one still breathing—everyone else had beco either cold, lifeless corpses or charred remains.

Why... why was I the only one still alive?

I couldn't move.

My body was pinned under a fallen pillar.

My internal organs—were they already shattered?

I had no hope of being saved, because no one would co to my rescue.

No matter what I did, there was no way to escape this world of fire.

This scene before was nothing less than a true hell.

I had no strength left.

Was it because the oxygen had run out?

Or had my body lost the ability to process it?

Staring blankly at the cold sky, I knew it was about to rain... That was good.

At least the fire would be extinguished.

It hurt.

Maybe it would be better to just die quickly?

As waves of pain from my body flooded my mind, such an absurd thought briefly crossed my heart.

Just then, a faint voice reached my ears.

It was so subtle that I could have easily mistaken it for a hallucination.

But no—I was certain soone was speaking.

"That monster called Deliora sure has terrifying destructive power. Good thing it has nothing to do with us. My magic isn't suited for dealing with creatures like that, and even for you, I imagine it would take quite a bit of effort to defeat it, right, Ishu?"

The voice belonged to a woman.

Her tone was slightly high-pitched, yet strangely not unpleasant to hear.

"Indeed. Just that regeneration ability alone is already a huge headache... Wait a mont, Stella, I think there's soone still alive over there."

The one who responded was a male voice—gentle and calm, carrying a warmth that made simply listening to it feel like a spring breeze.

The sound of hurried footsteps echoed, and soon, a slightly youthful yet handso face appeared in my blurred vision.

Brown eyes, dium-length black hair—he seed to be two or three years older than .

"Hey, are you still alive? If you are, say sothing." The black-haired boy asked .

My vision was starting to blur.

Excessive blood loss had left my mind sluggish and heavy.

I opened my mouth to answer but found my throat too dry to produce any sound.

In the end, I could only manage a faint, hoarse noise in response to the black-haired boy's call.

He was montarily stunned, but then his face lit up with joy.

"So, there really is soone still alive."

The sa female voice from before reached my ears.

Soon after, another face appeared in my fading vision—a girl with blue hair and blue eyes, her features delicate and refined.

She blinked and asked, "Ishu, are you planning to save her?"

"Yeah, I want to bring her back to Master."

"Bring her back? I don't have any objections..."

Their voices continued to drift into my ears, but I no longer had the strength to think about who this 'master' they spoke of was.

My blood loss was far worse than I had imagined.

The images before blurred into aningless patches of color, and the next mont, endless darkness swallowed my consciousness.

............

"...Ugh."

The first ray of white light made squint—it was too dazzling.

Even though it was just the usual light greeting my eyes after waking up, I wasn't used to it.

Perhaps, I had never even known what it felt like for sothing to be blinding.

"Ah, huh?"

Once my eyes adjusted to the light, I was startled.

I was in an unfamiliar room, lying on an unfamiliar bed.

Though the initial shock was real, the room's pristine whiteness gave off a sense of tranquility, making feel oddly at ease.

"...Where is this?"

I stared blankly around.

The room was spacious, yet unexpectedly empty.

Other than the bed I was lying on, the only furniture in sight was a table and a chair placed not too far away.

There was nothing else.

I started trying to recall what had happened before.

A massive black demon, collapsing buildings and burning streets, piles of corpses, my body trapped under the rubble—then, a man and a woman appeared...

Did they save ?

I looked down at my body, wrapped thickly in bandages, and found it hard to believe that I was still alive.

Back then, I had clearly felt myself teetering on the brink of death—even my internal organs had been shattered... Could soone really survive injuries like that?

I didn't understand how, but one thing was clear: I was alone now.

My parents, my friends—all of them had perished in that disaster.

Strangely, I found myself unexpectedly calm, as if I had already accepted the truth.

Maybe... it was precisely because it was the truth that I had no choice but to accept it.

The world was always this cruel.

And then—she appeared before .

Her soft, fluffy pink hair cascaded smoothly down her back, framing an exquisite face with deep blue eyes that resembled the vast ocean.

She wasn't much older than , yet there was an undeniable air of detachnt about her, as if she existed apart from the world itself.

Every gesture, every movent carried an effortless nobility, a quiet arrogance.

The first word that ca to my mind when I saw her was princess.

Perhaps, of all the girls in the world, none could embody that title more perfectly than the one standing before .

"What is your na?" she asked softly.

Her voice was calm and indifferent, yet carried a pressure that made it impossible to question her.

"Ophelia Nars."

"Ophe...lia?"

She smiled—a serene, moonlit smile tinged with a quiet amusent.

I could tell it wasn't an act.

She truly found ... interesting.

"I'll ask you directly—do you want to stay and beco my tool, or would you rather leave and wander the world alone?"

That girl asked this question.

It was strange—such a cold word as tool coming from her lips, yet carrying an indescribable feeling.

I asked her why she wanted to take in as her tool.

She answered: "Because we're similar, I suppose. You and I."

She didn't explain in what way we were similar.

Maybe she simply didn't want to answer, so I didn't press further.

In the end, I chose to stay—for reasons even I didn't fully understand.

"Oh, I forgot to ntion sothing," she said suddenly, as if recalling sothing, her gaze steady as she looked at .

"I have no use for weak tools. So, Ophelia, if you want to stay—do your best to beco strong."

With those parting words, she turned away, a mysterious smile lingering on her lips as she left.

From that mont on, I beca the tool she spoke of, addressing her as Master and beginning my training in the power known as magic.

To my surprise, my talent for magic was said to be exceptional.

My progress was astonishing—within just a few short years, I had defeated countless enemies and risen to beco one of the Seven Thrones, the strongest forces under my Master's command.

"Maybe Ophelia will surpass soon," Ishu said, half-joking and half-serious, on the day I ascended to my throne.

To be honest, even though I had beco one of the Seven Thrones, I wasn't particularly familiar with the others besides Stella and Ishu.

Lance and Tsukiyo were solitary and independent, Garlos was too deeply calculating, and Dylan was always loud and boisterous.

I never understood why Stella and Dylan always ended up arguing—it seed like the two of them were just naturally incompatible.

"You're really not cute at all. Can't you change that personality of yours?" Ishu sighed as he ruffled my hair.

It seed like he wanted to interact with others like a normal person.

But to , we—the tools—never needed to be normal people in the first place.

"Just destroy everything you dislike. There's nothing worth losing anyway." That was what Stella always said.

But I never quite understood why her expression was always so strange when she said it—there was a weight to her words, sothing heavy and inescapable.

Maybe it was because of sothing in her past.

After all, each of us in the Seven Thrones carried deep scars.

Even those like Stella and Dylan, who seed cheerful on the surface, had wounds buried where no one could reach.

At the ti, I thought this life would continue unchanged—until the day Ishu left.

Master was calm, as if Ishu's departure didn't matter at all.

Perhaps, to her, it was nothing more than losing a tool—sothing completely insignificant.

In contrast, the others were visibly angry, especially Tsukiyo and Lance, whose murderous intent was undeniable.

I didn't know how I should react.

Maybe, until Master spoke, the best thing to do was nothing at all.

Is Master's goal truly wrong?

I don't know, and I don't want to know.

I never liked thinking about such complicated things.

All I know is that no matter what Master wishes to do, I—Ophelia Nars, the Sixth Throne of the Demon God's Soul—will fight for Master without hesitation, even if it ans standing against the world.

That is the very reason we, the Seven Thrones, exist.

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