Soria woke up at her usual time.
Though nearly a hundred years had passed since she had alone survived, her daily routine remained largely unchanged.
Today was no different.
Soria, the sole surviving royal of the forsaken Kingdom of Syenn, rose before sunrise and diligently tended to her homeland. She pecked at the weeds growing between the stone pavings, quenched her thirst with dew collected on round leaves, and circled the palace grounds, digging at the earth with her sharp claws.
As always.
The first hint that something was different came when the sun reached its peak in the sky.
Though the curse had rendered her use of proper magic impossible, genius could not be simply extinguished. Soria sensed it immediately—the barrier that stretched along the castle walls had been broken. She lifted her head.
Her feathers all seemed to stand on end. A low, rumbling coo escaped her throat as her body trembled.
‘Oh my goddess, finally.’
It was a situation she had long dreamed of, yet never truly believed would happen. Flapping wildly, she rushed toward the inner palace.
‘Someone’s here. Someone actually came! A hero is finally here!’
Today marked 147 years and 3 days since this wretched life had begun. Soria hurried to meet the brave soul who had not only breached the border of the Kingdom of Syenn, but had accomplished what no one had done before—reached the deepest part of the kingdom, the royal palace.
‘To think someone broke through that damn perverted bastard’s barrier… Oh, Goddess, you haven’t forsaken me after all!’
Soria forced down the sudden surge of emotion that welled up inside her.
Even after all these years, the sorcerer’s despicable laughter still echoed in her ears.
She could vividly recall his vile face as he recited the method to break the curse. Irritated for no reason, Soria gave an angry flap and stomped at the ground.
‘Enough thinking about that bastard.’
Finally, escape was in sight. That was all that mattered.
She bounded over the low wall dividing the palace buildings. With practiced ease, she leapt through an open window and landed in her room.
Though the palace had long since fallen into ruin, overrun by vines and age, she had devoted all her strength to preserving this one room.
Thanks to her efforts, unlike the rest of the palace, her room was spotlessly clean—unlike the rest of the overgrown palace. It had been prepared for this day. After all, weren’t first impressions the most important?
Soria rubbed her legs on the damp cloth she always kept on the windowsill, then perched on a luxurious red silk cushion.
She puffed herself up to appear as regal as possible, lifted her head high, and fixed her gaze on the door. Her yellow eyes, bright like sunlight, sparkled with anticipation.
The doorknob turned. The hinges squeaked loudly, dry from years without oil.
Soria had no doubt that once everything returned to normal, even that door would function properly again. She turned her eyes toward her savior.
The door opened. And then…
“…A chicken?”
The bewildered voice of a man echoed through the room.
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