Year 223 of the Imperial Calendar.
Somewhere atop a jagged cliff in the vast lands of the Atlantean Empire, a little girl—no older than ten—sat with her legs dangling off the edge. Her delicate feet kicked idly in the wind, silver hair fluttering like silk under the breeze.
Her skin was porcelain pale, with a healthy pink flush. Her features were sculpted, dainty and exquisite—like a master artisan carved her from moonlight and stardust.
She was, in a word, a goddess.
But at the same time,the goddess like little girl wasn't impeccable also, because of her blood red eyes. They gave a hint of brutality and insanity.
Facing into the wind. Her brows furrowed slightly. She inhaled deeply and blinked, puzzled, reached up and gently tapped on her tiger teeth with index finger.
Then muttered softly to herself:
"This is definitely not my body."
She applied more pressure to her pointy teeth, as if testing if it was real.
Then sighed.
"Yeah...they are real alright, they are even able to expand and withdraw."
"Shit.... this is not good."
Her face display more frustration when a status panel unfolded before her blood red eyes, like a game interface, clearly displaying her new identity:
Name: Freya Constantin
Race: Highborn Demon
Level: 1
Racial Trait: [Blood Drain – Lv.1]
Bound Weapon: [Reaper's Scythe – Lv.1]
Strength: 20
Agility: 25
Intelligence: 36
Skills: [Fangs – Lv.1], [Bat Swarm – Lv.1], [Dark Magic – Lv.1]
Combat Arts: [Scythe Mastery – Lv.1]
"Yeah... I am definitely isekai-ed."
She turned her head toward the cave behind her. The entrance yawned open like the mouth of a beast. She froze, with fear running through her veins, but still, she knew she had to go in.
Inside, the stench of blood and decay was thick enough to choke on.
A faintly glowing ritual circle still shimmered on the floor, etched into the stone with dark runes.
Nearby, a half-rotted human corpse lay on top of a pile of bones—still wet with blood.
Before the corpse was a strange altar—shaped like stone but cool and metallic to the touch. A few tattered notebooks lay scattered around it.
"Magic circle? Altar? Dead body... This scream a sacrificial ritual took place here."
"So..... magic exist in this world huh?"
"Maybe tha's how i got here."
"And judging by isekai's logic and the info on the status panel , I'm definitely not a hero or the chosen one because my race is Highborn Demon, so I'm more like... a villain?"
"Or maybe someone important in the Demon King's army?"
"Shit.... this is not gonna end well...."
Her expression fazed, and her memories suddenly rolled back to her good old life.
Because back then, He was Steve Langdon, male, and he was practically the golden child every parents had hope for. A straight-A student, handsome, brilliant, compassionate and loved by everyone.
Plus, he even graduated as a valedictorian, landed a job at a prestigious law firm, and became a senior partner within years. What more can a man hope for?
But he was also not without regrets.
His parents had gone missing five years ago during an overseas voyage—and never been found. That broke his heart.
Today marked the fifth anniversary of their disappearance. He had gone to their last known location, like he did every year, to leave flowers.
And that's when it happened.
One moment, he was standing on the pier. The next? He woke up sprawled across a bloodstained magic circle after being knocked out by a ray of light.
At first, he thought it was a dream.
Then he saw the corpse.
Smelled the blood.
Vomited his guts out.
Panicked, he ran outside and sat on the cliff edge to calm down.
That's how he got there in the first place.
"Sigh.... I guess this is goodbye to my old life huh?"
Freya sigh in frustration, she lowered her gaze to her tiny, delicate hands, this is the first time she took a really good look at herself.
Then suddenly, came the horrifying realization.
She looked down. Slowly.
Then further down.
Then—
Her hand darted under the lacey gothic dress and try to feel her.....
"Shit.... it's really gone....."
"I'm really a little girl now....damn..."
Face pale, Freya collapsed to the ground in utter despair.
The wind whistled through the cave like it was laughing at her.
But eventually, she came to her senses and gathered her thoughts. She had to accept the new reality. So she went back to the magic circle looking for clues, tried to sort things out.
She found few weathered journals were stacked nearby, bound in cracked leather and splattered with dried blood.
To her surprise, she could read them. The language came as naturally as her own, the meaning came easily—as if the knowledge was already buried in her brain.
"How do i know these?"
"It doesn't make any sense."
As she going through piles of books, one book suddenly caught her attention.
"Necromancy: The Art Of Darkness?"
Curious, Freya open the book immediately, on the first page, scrawled in dark red ink, was the title:
"The Deads are Immortal?"
She felt a sudden chill down to her spine, she turned back, and instinctively gazed to the pile of bones on the ritual circle.
"Don't tell me.... Some crazy bastards were actually trying to bring someone back from the dead?"
"Really?"
Without further ado, Freya read through the book hastily. And as she went on, she was fascinated by incantations and diagrams, but at the same time, she was also sickened by the cruelty of sacrificing flesh and souls to bind corpses into servitude.
Very soon, she was at the last page, and when she closed the book, something on the status panel popped up.
[New Skill Acquired: Undead Summon – Lv.1]
Knowledge of necromancy rushed into her brain like unlocked memories. Detailed instructions for raising the dead like reconstruction of souls, diagrams, spells, mana consumptions etc etc.
It freaked her out!
"Holy shit.....Should I...."
She glanced at the pile of bones near the ritual circle—the ones still glistening with remnants of meat. The sight had made her gag earlier. Now, it looked.... inviting.
Freya stood frozen, face full of hesitation, but eventually, she slowly raised her hands and chanted,
"O servants of the underworld,By the name of Freya Constantin,
By the bond of flesh and bones,I command you, arise and walk the earth again."
"Arise, my minion!"
As the final syllables echoed through the cavern, the air twisted.
A pulse of cold darkness surged from Freya's feet, and a pitch-black magic circle erupted beneath the heap of bones. Its glowing sigils spiraled outward like ink bleeding into water—ancient, intricate, and alive. The very ground trembled with unnatural force.
From the circle, a tide of obsidian mana erupted, coiling like tendrils of smoke. It slithered over the skeleton's remains, wrapping each bone in a shroud of midnight black, as if knitting shadow into fleshless form.
Freya took a step back, heart pounding. Her hands trembled, not from fear—but from sheer disbelief.
It's working!
Then came the sound.
A dry, rattling clack—clack—snap—one bone grinding against another—followed by more in rapid succession.
The skull, once lifeless, jerked upright. Within its hollow sockets, twin flames flared to life—dim at first, then brightening into a piercing ghostly blue. They burned like twin lanterns in the dark, flickering with confusions and primal instinct.
Then one by one, scattered bones snapping into places—shoulders locking, spine aligning, ribs closing in like a cage reformed. The skeleton rose to its full height with eerie grace, the sound of joints snapping into position echoing like distant thunder in the cave.
Finally, it turned its head slowly, almost curiously, scanning its surroundings with a hollow, eerie calm.
Freya stared up with awe at the reanimated creature she had summoned. Her crimson eyes locked with its blue flames.
The skeleton froze.
Then, in one smooth motion, it dropped to one knee with a heavy thud, head bowed, one hand clenched in a knightly salute.
Waiting.
Silent.
Obedient.
Freya's lips parted, but no words came. Her breath hitched, her crimson eyes wide with awe and disbelief.
"…Holy crap.... It actually worked...."
"I just cast a goddamn spell!"
Still buzzing with disbelief and excitement, Freya circled the skeleton. It stayed kneeling, patiently awaiting its orders like a loyal knight. Then something unexpected appeared—hovering just above its skull.
A semi-transparent interface materialized, glowing faintly in the air like a hologram:
Name: None
Race: Undead
Level: 6
Racial Trait: "Undying – Lv. 1"
Bound Weapons: "Bone Blade – Lv. 3", "Bone Shield – Lv. 2"
Strength: 17
Agility: 13
Intelligence: 8
Skills: "Tenacity – Lv. 1", "Harden – Lv. 2", "Regeneration – Lv. 1"
Combat-skill: "Sword & Shield Mastery – Lv. 1"
Freya whistled, surprised. "You have a status panel too huh?"
She leaned in, eyes glinting. "Can you talk?"
The skeleton didn't move. Not a sound. Not a twitch.
"Hmmm…It seem like the intelligence level is too low for a conversation?"
Freya walked around it again, inspecting it from every angle like a curious child poking at a museum exhibit.
"Wait a minute, it's level 6 right off the bat? Is that normal?" she muttered, eyes narrowing. "Maybe it's because it inherited some part of its previous life when it was resurrected?"
She frowned. "But even at level 6, the stats are way lower than mine at level 1, is this a Highborn demon supremacy thing?"
She glanced at her own status window, then back at the skeleton.
"And Freya Constantin, she had to be a big shot, because after I learned Necromancy, I totally understood how complicated, and how great the price was paid trying to bring her back."
Eyes sparkling with curiosity, Freya turned toward the rest of the room. Scattered across the floor were more notebooks and journals—many of them old, cracked, or half-burnt, their pages yellowed with time.
"Maybe I'll find something that explains who the hell is Freya Constantin, and how I got here instead of her."
She knelt down, carefully collecting the scattered journals. One by one, she began flipping through them, scanning their contents with focus, as her first day in this magical world went on...