Corrupted Reincarnation: The Eldritch Maid

[Kai Zihan POV] Year 5, Day 207 (Evening, Central)

"This way please."

Kai Zihan, Crown Prince of the Zihan Dynasty, followed the human woman in Dwarven Union uniform as she guided his delegation out of the VIP area in the Dragon Racing Arena.

He felt pity for her. One more human forced to work under sub-races. Dwarves were scum, like all the others here—and he'd seen too many over his two-month journey through the Republic.

In his home, in the Zihan Dynasty, those sub-races would be lucky if they were allowed to exist as slaves. But here they ruled and suppressed humans. Disgusting. But he knew how to be political when needed.

Plus, as sad as it was for him to acknowledge—he needed them more than they needed him. Why was the world so unfair?

And this day had been nice. Those sub-humans here knew how to pull off a show. This dragon race—perfect. Sub-humans killing themselves—perfect.

If anything had ruined his mood, it was that this elf—Void was his name, if he remembered right—did not kill himself this morning. One less elven master in the world would only be a good thing. But no, his sub-human servants saved him, and then those sub-human guards here forced everyone to state into a truth stone that they hadn't done it—including him. At least they were polite enough that only humans talked with him. This massive lionkin who ran security hadn't even approached him.

That goblin having fun with that tigerkin looked proper. When he got back home, he'd buy some goblin and tigerkin slaves from somewhere and let them humiliate themselves in front of everyone. That sounded proper.

Oh, then he remembered. Stopped. Looked in the direction of those twelve season maids—January through December. They weren't that well-trained, but all of them had elven-styled loyalty collars to him, so he'd never had any issues with them anywhere here.

He'd only brought them on this long trip for some fun and then to throw away afterward. Well, the trip was almost over in the Republic, then a few more weeks in the Kingdom, and back home. Perhaps time tonight to pop some flowers and use them.

An evil smile came to his face. Not a bad idea. Yes, today was the day.

They finally arrived at the area where the flight platform was waiting. He, together with his fifty-member delegation, boarded a massive one.

Bitter anger burned deep in his heart over the injustice as he looked at Central all around them while the flying platform moved toward the mansion where he was staying. Totally unfair. Why did those sub-humans have such a nice city and wonderful applications of magic like these flying platforms, while in his home—country of purity, Zihan Dynasty—things looked almost like the stone age next to what he'd seen here?

The platform landed in front of the mansion. Crown Prince Kai Zihan walked out, looking at the season maids again.

Which one? He already knew. There was no question whatsoever. December. He had always been so protective over himself to make sure nobody else could touch him—EVER.

So all he said was, "December, follow me."

December did, head down, face like she was going to die. Well, she probably would—after today, Kai didn't see any point to keep her.

Kai walked through the mansion directly to his bedroom, December following.

As soon as the door closed, he stopped. Not moving a single muscle in his body. It was proper. He always did this when they were alone, totally alone. Let December think about what happened now, waiting for her reaction. So fun.

December approached and hit him in the balls. It was painful, but Kai did not move. He should never move when only he and December were in a room. December hit several more times until he collapsed from pain. But still not moving. It was how it should be.

December looked at him like trash on the ground while hitting a few more times with her leg. So painful—how could this small maid hit so painfully? Kai was sure she just broke a rib, but he should never scream. It was how it should be. Barely managing to keep himself from screaming.

Finally, December spoke. "It seems I hit you a bit hard, scum. Need to fix you up now or others will notice. Say to everyone you tortured me with nasty words and a whip, and nobody else is allowed to touch me or the other eleven maids. Clear?"

He answered, the words barely coming out with broken ribs so painful. Even though those were broken and healed almost every evening, it didn't get better. "Yes, slave. This one understands."

Then he felt a wave of healing magic flow over him. All wounds fixed instantly. He'd seen powerful healing before, but this was a class of its own.

He heard December speak again. "Invite January through November here. Then tell others not to disturb you anymore today."

He screamed, "January through November, get here! Nobody disturb me for the rest of today!"

The door opened. The other eleven maids entered.

December spoke again. "In the morning, say you had fun with the other maids. No details. If you give details every time, there will be contradictions. Just keep it vague."

Ideas came to his mind. He had a fun evening with maids. He would talk about it to others in the morning. Lots of fun.

He saw how December transformed into male. He had seen this male before—Cardinal Vescari, one of the most wanted men in the world. But irrelevant. He should never remember anything that irrelevant. He would not take effort to remember it.

He smiled more, thinking about all the fun he had with maids. Then he felt how a new spell came over him, and sleep took over.

Cardinal Vescari looked at Crown Prince Kai laying on the ground, squeezed together from the pain when he'd hit him before.

He really hated this piece of shit. But he was a useful brainwashed tool to have—high enough standing that even here people didn't risk troubling him too much. And as officially his servant, nobody gave him any looks.

Best part—no signature scanning. Ever. Not him or any of his eleven maids. Why should anyone scan some maids with loyalty circles? And if this brainwashed fool said those circles belonged to him, then nobody questioned.

In reality, the other eleven maids belonged to him. And his circle also belonged to him. Well, it would be impossible to make a loyalty circle against yourself—but with his paradox-powered magic, he'd managed. True, he needed to remake it every few days as it wasn't stable, but good enough for now. He didn't want to carry something as stupid as a loyalty circle for long anyway.

He finally spoke. "Please help me get this dress off. How can anyone ever wear something like it? It's so disgusting."

His eleven maids came to help undress him. But no answers to this question. They were once battlemaids. Now he'd used his paradox-powered magic to rebuild their brains, but as he hadn't taught them how to answer this question, no answer came.

As soon as he got the dress off, he took proper male clothing from his item box and dressed himself again. So much better. He hated this female form, but this was the only way he'd been able to think of to visit the Republic safely. Gender-bending sex change combined with a fake loyalty ring, a maid dress, and posing as the servant of the crown prince — the perfect hiding setup.

July asked, "Master, would you like to go to the bedroom? You look more nervous today than usual."

He answered, "Fine. I'm fine. Just need a minute."

[That's true loyalty. I never taught them to ask or care like that, but they do. For them, I'm everything. Their entire world. Their creator. Every doubt and idea in their minds that forms the basis of it was inserted there by me.]

February spoke. "Master, we received reports about the second wave of attacks against Ealdred's maid-using facilities. Plus a signal was sent by a brainwashed agent in the Old Capital that Ealdred received your heart stone."

He felt happiness. The plan was working, and Ealdred got the message. Now the question was whether Ealdred would give himself up — if not, he would need to launch a new wave of attacks. He'd been busy — more than a thousand sleepers waiting for attack signals.

But about the second wave, he didn't really care. Those weren't meant to succeed anyway—just show the reach.

But he decided to ask about one place he cared about. "Borderwatch?"

February replied, "Based on initial info we got from intelligence guilds, five maids died. The attack was pushed back by some mystical harpy protector they call Cookie Fairy. They actually managed to capture most attackers alive."

He considered the report for a moment. "Five dead. I would have liked a few more to torment this elf Void, but it will have to do. They can waste all the time they want questioning or researching those attackers—they'll never get anything from them. The impossible mix of dragon and divine magic I used to weave that brainwashing makes it untraceable. I made sure of it."

All his eleven maids looked at him. Not a single word. Yes, he'd never given them any knowledge about his impossible paradox magic he worked with. They were useful tools. He maybe even cared somewhat about them. But sharing any info about it would cause risk of leakage.

Then he remembered seeing that annoying elf again this morning. The world was so large, yet he'd ended up in the same VIP arena. He'd cast that "go kill yourself" mind attack on instinct, before he could even think clearly. And the bastard survived—even more annoying. Worse, the guards forced everyone in the VIP area to use a truth stone and testify they weren't involved in the attack.

He still remembered the fear from that moment—he'd had no good way to counter the truth stone. Fortunately, this perverted prince saved him without realizing it. The brainwashing he had worked so hard on had created the perfect cover. Since this prince was a known psycho, he'd planted the idea that December was his personal pet—one he planned to rape and kill eventually. Until that day came, NOBODY was allowed to touch, approach, or even talk with December. A perfect hiding position that even the guards couldn't penetrate.

When the guards tried to approach him today, the prince went into total rage mode, creating an entire scandal about how nobody was allowed to touch or approach his pet maid. He made it very clear to everyone present what his plans were.

In the end, guards only asked him—if he needed help. Promised to get him out of there if he wished so. When he shook his head, they just gave up and left.

But while the plan worked, he didn't like it. Not at all. He'd hit this perverted prince a few more times. Heard how a few bones broke. Then cast some healing magic to fix them.

Using magic had never been that easy. Yes, even during his days in the Church he'd been a quite decent healer—one needed to be to get the rank of cardinal. But now, with unlimited magical energy from the dragon tear embedded in his body, it was child's play. Even true dragons wouldn't be unwinnable enemies with so much power to work with. This black hole of dragonic energies that was the dragon tear was both fascinating to sense and still gave him creeps.

He turned toward the bedroom. Enough thinking about annoying elves and truth stones for one day. His maids waited inside — useful tools who were also genuinely ready to help him relax.

The dragon tear pulsed with power inside him. Unlimited energy hidden in a perfect cover, with patient revenge building day by day toward its proper conclusion.

Everything was proceeding exactly as planned.