Chapter 18
2090words
This was Elizabeth's true legacy—Creator Permissions.
However, gaining power doesn't come without a cost. As I immersed my consciousness into this ocean of rules, a sharp fatigue instantly seized my heart, as if my life force was being continuously drawn through the tip of my pen, transforming into fuel that alters reality. With each modification scheme I conceived, my breathing grew more rapid, and my vision would briefly darken.
Meanwhile, the Master's will was furiously counterattacking. The library I had just stabilized with my authority began to shake violently again. He couldn't directly take away my authority, but he could continuously destroy my not-yet-solidified reality structure, forcing me to exhaust my life force in repairs until I died from depletion. Those books that had just returned to the shelves exploded again, transforming into arrows made of cursed text, raining down toward me from all directions.
"It's useless!" Silas's roar sounded as he spread his arms in front of me. The dark aura surrounding his body transformed into a massive shield, blocking all those text arrows. The shield was instantly corroded with countless hissing holes.
Finn used his wild nature power to continuously repair the cracked floor and dome. Green vines grew frantically from the floor cracks, like tough bandages, barely maintaining the integrity of this space.
Their protection bought me precious time, but I knew this was only drinking poison to quench thirst. I had to solve the problem at its source.
"Don't worry about these surface damages!" I shouted to them, my voice somewhat weak due to the loss of vitality, "Protect yourselves! I am his target!"
I forcibly withdrew my attention from those chaotic attacks, pouring my entire will into the tip of my pen. I no longer tried to repair those damaged "furniture" or "walls," but instead aimed directly at the core of the problem—the "relationship" between the master of the house and myself.
I closed my eyes and conceived the first rule to be rewritten in my mind:
"[DECLARATION]: Eleanor Nora Vince is not an 'accessory' or 'vessel' of Thornhill Manor, but a 'symbiont' with independent will. Her existence is not for fusion, but for cooperation."
I suddenly opened my eyes and quickly wrote this line on the title page of my manuscript.
The moment the last stroke fell, the entire world seemed to have its mute button pressed. All vibrations, roars, and attacks came to an abrupt halt in this moment.
Then, unprecedented terror descended.
The walls, ceiling, floor of the library, and every bookshelf around us began to distort and flow like melting wax. They lost their original forms, converging toward the center of the library, and before our eyes, reassembled into a massive entity that cannot be described in human language.
That thing had no fixed form. It was both a nebula composed of countless distorted human faces and wailing souls, and a giant tree formed by intertwining thorns and chains. At its core was an unimaginably huge, cold, and hollow eye. In this moment, the entire Thornhill Manor had materialized as its physical body. We were no longer inside the manor, but standing before this ancient will.
The master of the house had finally revealed its true form.
"You have activated a switch that should not have been touched, my scribe." A voice so vast that its source could not be discerned resonated deep within the soul of each of us. It was no longer a whisper transmitted through the mind, but reality itself conversing with us. "Did you think that little cleverness could change anything? That altering a piece of code could overthrow the entire program?"
That gigantic eye slowly rotated, its gaze falling upon me. It was a pure scrutiny beyond any emotion, like a programmer looking at a buggy piece of code that needed to be deleted and rewritten.
"You cannot escape your essence." The final pronouncement descended, "You, Eleanor Vince, and every soul in your bloodline, were born to become part of me, an extension of my will. Just as rivers eventually flow into the sea, this is the law of the universe, a destiny already written. Your resistance merely creates meaningless ripples at the river's mouth before it enters the ocean. Now, the game is over."
As its words fell, an irresistible, gravitational pulling sensation came from all directions. I felt my soul being peeled away from my body inch by inch, about to be sucked into that giant, hollow eye. The white light at the pen tip was rapidly dimming, and the protective barriers of Silas and Finn were completely shattered in an instant.
Silas let out a painful, muffled groan. He knelt on one knee as his body began to crack under the powerful force of will pressing down on him. Finn raised his head and let out a reluctant wolf howl, the green natural energy on his body being rapidly devoured and assimilated by that dark power. Even Julian's semi-transparent figure began to flicker violently, as if it might extinguish at any moment.
Is this the end?
At the moment when my consciousness was about to be completely extracted, my gaze touched upon the massive form of the family head, which was intertwined with countless suffering souls. I saw those distorted faces, heard those endless wails... but for some reason, in the core of that chaos, I sensed something entirely different.
It wasn't evil, nor was it hatred. It was a kind of... cosmic, absolute loneliness.
It was like an obsessive child, afraid of losing its beloved toys, who chooses to melt all its toys and cast them into its own body, so they would never be separated. It craved possession, craved control, not to inflict pain, but because it couldn't comprehend the concept of "separation." In its ancient consciousness, the only form of "existence" was to become a part of itself.
In that moment between life and death, I suddenly understood. What I was fighting against wasn't a demon, but a being driven by absolute control who had been lonely for billions of years.
Destroy it? No, I couldn't do that. Doing so would be tantamount to destroying this manor, destroying everything here, including Silas and the others. I couldn't do that. What I really needed to do wasn't to "win the game," but as Elizabeth had said—rewrite the rules.
Not to rewrite the relationship between us, but to rewrite the most fundamental rules of this world!
An unprecedented, resolute power surged from the depths of my soul. With my last ounce of life force, I stabilized my consciousness that was about to be pulled away, firmly nailing it back into my body. I tightened my grip on the now-scorching pen, and the white light at its tip ignited once more due to this new will of mine, burning even brighter than before.
"You're wrong!" I lifted my head, facing that giant eye, shouting with all my might, "Existence is not meant to be possessed! But to be able to freely choose one's own belonging!"
I hesitated no longer, pressed the pen tip firmly onto the manuscript, and began the final and most frantic rewrite.
I no longer wrote those "declarations" or "clauses," but began to depict a completely new world.
"[Chapter One: Belonging]In this world, Thornhill Manor is no longer a cage, but a 'harbor.' It opens its doors to all souls abandoned by the world; its existence is for shelter, not consumption..."
With each word I wrote, I could feel my life rapidly ebbing away, an excruciating, tearing pain spreading in my chest. But I didn't stop.
However, at that moment, I heard Silas's agonized voice beside me.
"Nora... stop..."
I whipped my head around and was horrified to see that as I rewrote the fundamental laws of the manor, Silas's body was becoming increasingly transparent. Because his "existence" was based on the old rule of "vampire imprisoned by the manor." As the rules changed, the foundation of his existence collapsed.
Finn beside me was the same—the natural power within him that opposed the manor was rapidly dissipating. His form painfully shifted between werewolf and human, because his identity as "forest guardian" was built upon the old order that stood against the "manor's threat."
Even Julian's silhouette became like a candle in the wind. His spirit, bound to the manor's history, couldn't find its place under the new rules and faced the danger of complete dissolution.
"No..." I looked at them, my heart feeling as if gripped by an invisible hand. "No! This isn't what I wanted!"
Was the price of saving the world destroying the very people I wanted to protect?
"Don't worry about us, Nora!" Julian's voice rang out urgently, though already so weak it could break at any moment. "Keep writing! This is our only chance!"
"Shut up!" I shouted at him and everyone else, tears uncontrollably streaming from my eyes. "In my story, there will be no tragic sacrifices! Not a single one can be lost!"
I refuse to accept such an ending.
I took a deep breath and turned my pen tip back to the page. This time, I no longer wrote about those grand rules of the world, but poured all my love and all my will into writing new definitions for the three of them.
"[Chapter Two: Rebirth]Silas Delacour is no longer a prisoner burdened by a curse. He is the 'Watcher' of the night, his immortality not a punishment, but a gift to witness every dawn that needs protection. His power stems from his profound love for this land, not from the thirst for blood."
As the words were written, Silas's gradually transparent body suddenly trembled, and a new power mixing darkness and soft moonlight surged from within him. Color returned to his previously pale face, and in those crimson eyes, for the first time, the mad possessiveness faded away, leaving only a deep and gentle gaze. His existence had been redefined.
I immediately turned to Finn.
"Finn Grimm, no longer the lone wolf of the forest. He is the 'bridge' connecting the manor and nature, the 'spokesperson' for wild vitality. His passion is not for confrontation, but to teach those cold souls how to feel the warmth of sunlight and wind."
Finn stopped his painful howling. The violent energy surrounding him became gentle and vibrant. The green light was no longer a weapon, but instead bloomed into beautiful, glowing flowers beneath his feet. His amber eyes were filled with incredible shock and emotion.
Finally, there was Julian. My pen moved across the paper with endless tenderness.
"Julian Evergreen, no longer a bound ghost. He is the 'Storyteller' of the manor, the 'Inheritor' of history and wisdom. His existence is no longer a replay of tragedy, but rather to guide every lost soul to find their way home."
Julian's flickering figure, at this moment, solidified completely. He was no longer semi-transparent, but stood there like a person with physical form. The sorrowful aura about him was swept away entirely, replaced by an unprecedented, relieved calmness. He gave me a genuine, gentle smile from the bottom of his heart.
After doing all this, I had almost exhausted all my strength, and my vision was beginning to blur. But I knew there was still one final step.
With trembling hands, I wrote down the last sentence of this story.
"And I, Eleanor Nora Wens, will forever 'coexist' with Thornhill Manor and every soul here. Between us, there will no longer be master and vessel, only equal partners. Because home has never been a place that needs to be proven through possession."
After writing the last word, the pen in my hand lost its glow and turned to dust. My vision darkened, and I completely lost consciousness, falling backward.
But in the final moment before my consciousness sank into darkness, I seemed to feel that giant eye symbolizing the head of the household, in that chaos, slowly, very slowly closing. The suffocating pressure that had enveloped the entire manor also dissipated like smoke.
I fell into a warm and solid embrace.
