A Bruxa Maligna BOSS Só Quer se Desenvolver nas Sombras

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"Young Master Zorn, the ritual has been prepared."

"As long as you complete the inheritance of the mysterious wizard, the situation within the family will surely improve!"

In the study, dressed in a deep black butler's suit, his sparse hair meticulously groomed and his posture ramrod straight, the old butler Gronke looked at the young master before him, a note of hope hidden deep in his voice.

At the same time, behind a rather cluttered long desk, half-shrouded in the hazy moonlight filtering through the glass window, a boy—still somewhat green, awkward, and bewildered—remained motionless, maintaining his posture.

At that moment, a foreign soul was struggling to adapt to the discomfort of transmigration and digest the myriad tangled, adolescent memories and anxieties of a fifteen- or sixteen-year-old boy.

"As long as... it will surely..."

Hearing the butler's standard phrase, he considered, drawing on more than thirty years of hardcore professional gaming experience in the world of “Sanctum: Eternal Canticle.” Whenever a story began with such phrasing, he knew, things were about to become dramatic—and often, the price would be dire.

It took a long while for the foreign soul to gradually adjust to the new body, though the memories in his mind remained jumbled.

"This really is... the world of 'Sanctum: Eternal Canticle.'"

"I've spent nearly half my life in this world—who would have thought that after euthanasia, I'd arrive here.