Alia is a skilled thief who, in search of a legendary treasure, sneaks into a castle under the cover of night. However, she unexpectedly witnesses the castle’s owner, the handsome and cold-hearted billionaire Marcellus, murder his wife. In the chaos of her escape, Alia is discovered and killed by him. But death isn’t the end. Alia wakes up to find herself reborn a year earlier, this time in the body of the wife Marcellus had killed—Livia. Faced with the man who had once killed her, now acting outwardly kind but still harboring deadly intentions, Alia knows she must uncover the truth within a year and avoid the same tragic fate. Her plan? Escape the castle and steal the treasure. During her time in the castle, Alia discovers that Livia’s identity is far from simple, and she soon finds herself tangled in a deeper conspiracy. Marcellus’s younger brother, Elias, has a close, secret relationship with Livia, one that seems to involve hidden feelings. As Alia secretly investigates Marcellus’s true intentions, she is drawn to his conflicting mixture of gentleness and coldness. At the same time, the body of Livia compels her to develop feelings for Elias, whose tender care for her awakens a sense of warmth. Caught in a whirlwind of emotions, Alia realizes that every person’s motives are more complex than they first appear, and she must make difficult choices between truth, revenge, love, and survival. As the one-year deadline approaches, the conspiracy unfolds, and Marcellus’s true intentions toward Livia are exposed. Alia finally finds a chance to escape. But with emotions tangled and fate inextricably linked to the castle, will she choose revenge and freedom, or will she find redemption and true love within the deadly walls of the castle?
View MoreThe night was dark and quiet, like a thick, inky shadow. A woman dressed in black slipped silently through the shadows toward the castle ahead. The moonlight cast a faint glow on her slender figure, outlining her graceful shape even in the night. The castle was a classic piece of medieval European architecture, with tall, towering spires and thick stone walls that looked both grand and eerie. Alia smirked slightly, muttering to herself, “Doesn’t seem too hard. A place this big, and no guards in sight? This should be a piece of cake.”
Even though she felt relaxed, Alia’s movements were precise and careful. She pulled out a detailed map of the castle from her bag, studying it in the dim light. With a confident nod, she silently slipped inside. Her eyes were sharp, quickly memorizing every hallway and corner. There were no guards, but infrared sensors were everywhere. Trained from a young age, Alia was more than used to these challenges. She moved skillfully, evading every sensor like a shadow gliding through the darkness.
After passing through layer after layer of obstacles, she finally reached the treasure room marked on her map. She held her breath, hiding behind a bookshelf as she prepared to make her move—when suddenly, a low, angry voice broke the silence.
“Why did you betray me? Do you even understand why I did all this?” The man’s voice was cold and harsh, slicing through the stillness of the night. Alia froze, instinctively looking up to find the source of the voice.
A moment later, a soft voice answered, distant and calm, yet laced with bitterness. “You never understood what I needed. You never really knew me. This would have ended sooner or later, with or without this.”
“No, I won’t let you go!” the man shouted.
As he spoke, the air grew heavy and thick, and then—BANG! A gunshot rang out, sharp and startling. Alia stumbled back in shock, her heart racing. Her hand flew to the knife at her waist, but the tiny movement betrayed her.
“Who’s there?” The man’s voice cut through the room, sharp and cold. In an instant, the lights blazed on. Alia’s eyes widened at the scene in front of her, blood chilling—there, sprawled on the floor in a pool of blood, lay a beautiful young woman. Over her stood a tall, cold-faced man, gripping a pistol tightly.
Before Alia could react, another gunshot echoed. Pain shot through her chest as the world blurred, her consciousness slipping away.
“Miss? Miss, please wake up! How could you fall so deeply unconscious? This illness… why did it get so serious this time?” A gentle, worried voice floated into Alia’s ears. She opened her eyes to see a maid sitting beside an extravagant bed, watching her with concern. Alia’s pale face looked frail, but somehow even more beautiful in her weakness, like a delicate figure from a painting.
“Miss?” Alia heard the voice, stirring her from a deep, foggy sleep. She struggled to open her eyes. Warm sunlight poured through sheer curtains, casting a soft glow around her. She whispered, almost instinctively, “Where… am I?”
“Oh! Miss, you’re awake!” The maid’s eyes filled with tears of joy as she clung to Alia’s hand, hardly believing it. “I’m so glad! I’ll go fetch the master right away!” With that, the maid hurried out, her joyful voice fading into the distance.
Alia closed her eyes again, trying to steady her mind. “Where is this? How did I end up here?” She felt a faint ache in her chest, reminding her of the events before she blacked out—she had been on a mission, sneaking into a creepy old castle to steal a legendary “Holy Grail.” But just as she was about to succeed, she had seen the castle’s stern, handsome owner murder his wife in cold blood. She had witnessed the scene and tried to escape—only to be shot by him.
“Where am I now? Did someone save me?” Alia pressed a hand to her chest, trying to sit up, but her body felt weak and her head heavy. She gritted her teeth, taking a shaky breath as her mind swirled in confusion.
Before she could gather her thoughts, quick footsteps sounded from the hallway, and a tall, striking man rushed to her bedside. His features were sharp and defined, his eyes filled with worry and relief. He grasped Alia’s hand, his voice brimming with emotion, “My dear, you’re awake! Do you have any idea how worried I was?”
Alia’s eyes widened, her breath catching in shock. Her mind went blank, and for a moment, the pain in her chest vanished. She knew this man—she could never forget him. He was the very same man who, just last night, had murdered his wife and shot at her, the castle’s cold-blooded killer—Marcellus!
They carefully tucked the container back into their packs—by all logic, it was time to retreat.But Adrian didn’t move.He stood there, back to Elise, staring down at the Holy Grail base now tucked against his chest. His expression seemed… distant.Silently, he unfastened the pack once more. Wrapped in silk cloth, the ancient base now lay quietly in his hands. Its surface glimmered with a deep, cold light—as if some faint will was slowly seeping out from within.Adrian murmured under his breath,“Why… it’s just a base, and yet it feels like something is whispering to me.”He could feel it—some deep, buried longing being gently stirred: the desire for power, for control, for meaning… and above all, to be recognized.“Why should I hand it over?”“I found it. I was the first to find it…”“If I kept it—maybe I could change everything. I wouldn’t just be the one carrying out orders anymore. I’d be the one shaping fate.”Unconsciously, he hugged the container tighter to his chest.That sliv
At that very moment, the lights in the hospital room remained dim.Marcellus leaned against the headboard, his body still wrapped in bandages, but his gaze was fixed on the window. The night outside was thick and silent—just like the waves of unrest churning within him.His hand would occasionally clutch at the edge of the blanket, fingers turning pale; other times, he’d tap restlessly against the bedframe, his rhythm erratic and disordered.He kept picturing Livia facing Jim.Worry gnawed at him—was the castle’s perimeter truly secure?But right now, he was powerless.All he could do was repeat silent prayers in his mind, again and again, hoping everything was going according to plan.“Livia… you must come back safe.”—Far from the castle—on the city’s outskirts, some tens of kilometers away—Elias sat inside a concealed, decrepit building.A large, rough-hewn regional map lay spread across the table in front of him.He held a communicator close to his mouth, whispering to a scout on
Night fell like ink.In the depths of the forest, the wind hissed through the trees, occasionally pierced by the distant growl of wild beasts—each sound only making the surrounding silence heavier, more suffocating.Jim moved soundlessly through a thick layer of fallen leaves.His figure blended seamlessly into the shadows, like a drifting wraith among the trees. He didn’t take the shortest path—instead, he circled through three alternate routes, checking from various angles to confirm there were no ambushes.With every step, his eyes scanned the bark, branches, ground—even the sky.He was like a cunning leopard, alert to the slightest anomaly.At last, at the edge of a remote forest clearing, he saw it:The hunter’s cabin.Just as Livia had said, it was deeply hidden—its back pressed against the rocky slope, wooden walls covered in moss and dead vines.Had he not been looking for it, he might’ve missed it entirely.The windows were shut, but a faint line of candlelight leaked through
Night had fallen.Heavy clouds blanketed the sky, choking off even the faintest starlight. The entire city seemed to hold its breath, waiting for some unseen undercurrent to stir quietly into motion.Beneath a dilapidated eave not far from the castle, Jim stood alone, fingers brushing lightly over a slightly yellowed note.The ink was still fresh. The handwriting was clean and sharp—yet with the distinct elegance and subtle edge only a woman’s hand could produce.He had discovered it while slowly making his way toward the castle, and it was clear Livia had sent someone to plant it there on purpose. Jim had no doubt there were other such notes scattered along the path—each one serving only one purpose:To lead him to their meeting place.—“Midnight tomorrow, at the hunter’s cabin. Come alone.”There was no signature.But he knew—it could only be her.“Hunter’s cabin…” he murmured, folding the note and tucking it away. His gaze was dark and unreadable, deep as the night sky.Of course h
And so, a perilous plan quietly set in motion—like a dice cast into the dark, its path uncertain, guided only by fate.At last, the day arrived when Eryx was to lead his legion out of the city.The morning sun had not yet fully climbed over the city walls, but the inner square was already filled with a perfectly assembled military formation.Regimental banners snapped sharply in the wind. Everything was so orderly, so precise, it felt more like the prelude to a grand ceremony than a military departure.Yet Eryx did not appear before the soldiers.He stood at the high window of the governor’s residence, overlooking the troops lined up below.His brows were furrowed with deep thought as his gaze passed over each face—soldiers he had personally trained. Their steps were firm, their eyes resolute, and their aura overpowering.But his heart felt heavy.He wasn’t a man who trusted instinct easily, but the unease in his chest now was undeniable.“The men are chosen, and there’s no shortage o
“Yes, we still need a proper setup.”Livia slowly withdrew her gaze, her voice low and composed, yet carrying firm resolve.“Jim is a prideful man—highly attuned to shifts in power. If I want to deceive him, I must make it look like I have control over this castle. Words alone won’t do. He needs to see people behind me—people who follow my command.”She paused, her eyes sweeping coldly over the tactical sketches on the table, her tone sharpening.“So I won’t bring soldiers from the First or Seventh Legions, and I won’t use any of your men either. That would raise his suspicions.”“Hm?” Elias frowned slightly, looking at her in surprise.“Then who are you planning to bring?”Livia raised her head, calm and unshakable.“Red and his companions.”“Red?” Marcellus blinked, clearly puzzled.“Who’s that? You’ve never mentioned him to me.”Elias, on the other hand, showed a flicker of recognition, quickly followed by concern.“That kid is clever, sure, and he’s got a good head on his shoulder
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