Chapter 3: Plans!
Freezing where he was for a moment, he wondered: 'Who is this girl? Where am I?'
Then, a flood of thoughts flashed back to him, making him remember where he was and why he was there. He breathed in, then out, deeply…
His heart beat with excitement it had long forgotten laid hidden...
"So it succeeded,"
All of the sacrifices,
All of the slaughter,
Everything,
Every damn thing,
It was worth it..
He had passed the barrier into the World of Wuma, The Wumalogam.
Gritting his teeth and smiling with clenched hands, he laughed loudly, from the bottom of his heart, he laughed loudly.
Their curious hearts full of questions, the maids looked at each other.
But unlike them, the young girl's smile faded away at his laughter; frightened, she paled.
An uncontrollable desire to cry overtook her.
She didn't know why, but her heart felt terribly fear struck for a moment.
Tears welled up in her big round eyes and ran down her bubbly cheeks,
Nevertheless,
Ethan's laughter stopped.
It wasn't funny anymore.
His gaze then shifted toward the nervous maids.
His eyes held a sinister gleam. A wicked smile curled on his lips, sending involuntary shivers down each of the maids' spines.
"You, there," he said, pointing at one of the maids, and said: "fetch me a good robe."
The blue robe he was wearing now was way too loose for his comfort, he liked it when it was well fit.
The maid nodded and went out of the room, her footsteps echoing inside the silent place.
The other maids just stood frozen in place, their gazes fixed on Ethan, unsure of what had happened within him.
They didn't know what had changed, but something had changed – Something fundamental.
Their womanly gossipy maid instinct was screaming at them that something had happened.
But he didn't care for their opinions; the dead don't spread secrets after all.
Ethan stood up from the floor, and dusted off his clothes with his hands, an air of arrogance evident on his face.
Maids noticed it even more — His transformation; gone was the carefree aura, replaced by deep and mysterious.
Scanning the room, he counted; there were three maids here and a little girl...he looked towards the girl's forehead,
Yes, it was there — a small birthmark.
A mole.
It had really succeeded.
There was no doubt anymore — He had been reborn as Ethan Everhart. His sacrifices had borne fruit.
His mind immediately came up with a line of action, a general plan.
Looking at the young girl's tear-streaked face, Ethan's countenance softened, he smiled as he beckoned, "Little girl, come here."
An impending storm was being brewed outside, the sound of wind sweeping through was audible even inside, alongside a distant clap of thunder.
Yet the three maids standing inside the room didn't dare to move as they just watched on.
The little girl shivered and shook her head
A clap of thunder rumbled as two windows abruptly closed with a BAM!!
Shaking his hands with a smile, he shook his head and chuckled, saying, "Don't worry, little girl, I won't eat you. Come...let bug brother show you something really beautiful."
The girl's gaze shifted; it focused on familiar faces and pleaded with the maids, her heart gripped by fear; she yearned for someone, anyone, to rise to her defense, to offer the comforting touch they had always bestowed.
She hoped they would intervene, as they had done when the dogs approached, but they averted their eyes, ashamed and fearful, silently signaling her to comply; comply to whatever the young master said.
With a quivering jaw and tear-stained cheeks, the girl summoned her courage, taking hesitant steps forward.
Sniffles escaped her; she was afraid — the young master was…scary to her.
The room's windows got locked by the maid nearest; the rain would have kept it banging otherwise.
Betraying her anxiety, the little girl gradually approached, her trembling form inching closer to Ethan's imposing presence.
As the storm raged outside, the rain started pouring down in relentless sheets, drumming upon the mud-thatched roofs with an unwavering intensity. The resounding impact of the water against the ancient abode created a hypnotic melody, a soothing counterpoint to the turbulent events unfolding within. The tranquil symphony of raindrops offered a brief respite amidst the gathering tempest, a momentary refuge from the brewing chaos.
The smell of oakwood got overwhelmed as the smell of fresh rain, mud, and nature permeated the dim room.
Wine's heart pounded with fear and nervousness as she stood arm's length from Ethan. The relentless storm raged outside, its fury matching the turmoil within her.
She looked at him, a man standing just above her in height, his long black hair falling on his back, his golden eyes intensely focused on her. In his presence, she felt small and insignificant, overwhelmed by his commanding aura that seemed to consume the room.
"Your name is?" he asked, his voice still the same, gentle and caring.
"It..mffh..is...Wine, Young—young master," she replied with an involuntary sniffle.
"Mmh...Wine, huh...? exactly the kind of names you guys call each other...what to say? Were you born when your mother was drinking wine?"
"...Y-yes, young–"
"Don't call me young master again. Call me...Teacher instead." He said calmly.
Wine blinked, then wondered, her fear abruptly turning into sudden surprise, 'Teacher? Is young master going to teach me Wuma? Did he just choose me as a student?!'
Her childish heart skipped a beat.
Every Young master could only choose one, after all.
However, interrupting her thoughts, the maid who had gone out looking for clothes came back, opening the door to the room as she brought Ethan his new clothes.
"Sor...Sorry Young Master, There are only these clothes that are good for going outside...all of the other ones got drenched in the rain..." The maid said, her heart beating like drums; she knew the young master hated white clothes, But there was nothing she could do; he rarely asked for formal clothing after all, and this time, the rain was the one at fault.
Ethan looked at the clothes and smiled, "Don't worry, I feel like wearing white today..." His voice trailed off as he asked, "Has mother, father, and grandfather come out?"
"No, they are yet to come out," replied the maid, her white cleaning clothes drenched in rain and her body screaming sensuality,
Nevertheless, Ethan didn't even glance and extended his hands to both sides and closed his eyes, making all the maids instinctually move and undress him.
One by one, the fabric covering his majestic physique came loose,
Wine's eyes darted around nervously, her cheeks flushing crimson as she tried to avert her gaze from the young master's imposing figure. The allure of his robust physique, barely concealed by the white undergarment, was impossible to ignore.
She covered her eyes with her palm, yet a small slit in between her fingers told her interest. After all, even kids will be curious why things are hidden under clothes; even if they don't usually have any weird thoughts.
The other maids, too, felt a mix of fascination and unease, their hearts pounding in their chests. It was a sight they had never yet had the chance to witness—a display of masculinity that both captivated and intimidated them.
A display of utter dominance over his subordinates.
Unaffected by their reactions, the young master maintained a confident demeanor, his eyes closed, yet his mind calculated the room and the people inside with a subtle hint of amusement. He relished the discomfort he caused, relishing in the power he held over those who served him:
'Yes, this was the beginning I wanted; this was the beginning I deserved...'
His voice cut through the silence, his tone tinged with an underlying command, "Make it fit me as tightly as possible; make it not an obstruction."
The maids hurriedly obeyed; their movements were a mix of fear and a desire to please. There was no questioning their lord in any of the teachings of the family, you either obey, or you die.
As they scurried to fulfill his request, Wine couldn't help but steal glances at him. Despite her embarrassment, a strange fascination drew her eyes back to him repeatedly, not due to the physical attraction, but what his actions conveyed.
It was a sight she couldn't easily forget—the embodiment of strength and dominance standing before her as if the whole world revolved around him.
The exact opposite of what she was and what she represented.
The other side of the spectrum.
Finally, his dressing up finished; the maids moved a bit away and looked at Ethan, who stood there alone, the white robe's fabric clinging to his form as if embracing his every contour.
He smiled slightly and then looked at his hands...it was so clean, so white, yet for how long, he wondered...and then clenched them.
At that moment, the room seemed to be transformed by his presence alone. The atmosphere grew charged with enigmatic energy as if the air itself recognized the young master's authority. The maids, now completed with their task, stood silently, their eyes cast downward in a mix of reverence and trepidation.
Ethan smirked and then looked towards Wine, noticing the difference in her gaze; his smirk turned into a smile...This was it, the taste of innocent creatures moving in the rhythm of your simply curated symphonies.
Now wearing clean white robes as his face adorned a smirk, looking at her, he beckoned, showing his hands to her, asking her to take them; he didn't even speak.
He didn't force her, and he didn't look fierce; he didn't look any different from the man who she looked at and cried, except for maybe better-looking clothing,
Yet this time, she took his hands, even though with slightly trembling fingers. Her reluctance and fear had long faded away — it was a spontaneous emotion in the first place. She was taught to be subservient to the young masters after all.
Nevertheless, Ethan chuckled in his heart, remembering something he had once taught to his students, "Beware the beguiling mask of charm, for behind the facade of beauty lies a potent weapon of manipulation. There was no weapon better than a lollipop to fool children, just like there was no weapon better than a salary to fool adults."
Yet now, he was the one embracing this strategy, shrouding his true intentions in a cloak of enchantment.
Without anyone being the wiser.
Now, he was the one tricking little children into the den of wolves.
Gifts
-- Gift
received Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone