Volume 1: The Poor Charming's Tower Gamble
Prologue Arc: Poor Charming's Last Shot
Chapter 9: One-Shotting the Evil Stepmother While Yawning – Original Fate Roasted to Dust
Elodas Charming walked toward the grand castle as the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and purple. The royal ball was in full swing. Music drifted from the open windows—elegant waltzes mixed with excited laughter. Carriages lined the long driveway, nobles and commoners alike streaming inside in their finest (or borrowed) attire. Lanterns glowed like fireflies, and the air smelled of roses and roasted meats.
He still wore his simple patched clothes, now lightly dusted with fading sparkles from the earlier tent incident, but he moved with the effortless grace that came from his fully mastered Royal Charming Swordsmanship. No one would guess he could cut through steel or rewrite reality with a thought. He looked exactly like what he pretended to be: a slightly dusty traveler who had wandered in by chance.
Time to end this floor, he thought calmly, hands in his pockets. The original fate is simple: Cinderella gets the magical makeover, dances with the prince, loses her slipper at midnight, and lives happily ever after. My goal is to defy that enough to clear the trial. With transformation magic, illusion magic, and transcendent swordsmanship all instantly mastered, I can do it without breaking a sweat. Keep everything hidden. Act like a lucky guy who just happens to be in the right place at the right time.
As he approached the grand entrance, the two stepsisters spotted him again. Anastasia and Drizella practically shoved their way through the crowd, dragging their mother behind them.
"There he is!" Anastasia squealed. "Our Prince Charming! We told you he'd come!"
Lady Tremaine's sharp eyes narrowed with clear calculation as she studied Elodas. A slow, scheming smile spread across her face. "Well, well. The mysterious Charming boy. You clean up… interestingly. Come. Join us at our table. The prince will want to meet someone of your… caliber."
Elodas gave a small, polite bow, voice even. "Thank you for the invitation, but I prefer to observe from the edges."
The sisters would not be denied. They each grabbed an arm and pulled him into the glittering ballroom. Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, casting rainbow light across marble floors. Nobles danced in perfect circles while servants carried trays of wine and sweets. At the far end, on a raised dais, sat the prince—handsome, polite, and already looking slightly bored as he greeted guests.
The moment Elodas entered, a ripple went through the room. Whispers spread like wildfire.
"Is that the prince's secret brother?"
"Look at that golden hair… he's even more charming than the real one!"
"Who is he? He moves like royalty!"
Elodas kept his half-smile in place, internally sighing. Surname doing heavy lifting again. The real prince is about to have a very confusing night.
Lady Tremaine guided them toward a prime table near the dance floor. Cinderella—still in her ragged servant clothes and hidden behind a pillar for now—was nowhere in sight, but Elodas knew she would appear soon once the Fairy Godmother worked her magic.
The orchestra struck up a new waltz. The stepsisters immediately tried to pull Elodas onto the dance floor.
"Dance with us!" Drizella insisted. "You're the most charming man here!"
Before he could respond, the main doors opened with a dramatic flourish. In walked Cinderella, now transformed by the Fairy Godmother's spell into a radiant vision in a sparkling silver-blue gown, glass slippers gleaming on her feet. The entire ballroom fell silent for a moment, then erupted in awe.
The prince's eyes lit up. He stepped down from the dais and offered his hand. The original story was unfolding perfectly—until Elodas decided it was time to roast it.
He moved with casual grace, slipping away from the stepsisters and positioning himself near the center of the floor. Lady Tremaine watched him with narrowed eyes, clearly sensing something was off about this "peasant" who moved too confidently.
As the prince and Cinderella began their iconic dance, Elodas observed the subtle magical threads still clinging to Cinderella's gown and slippers—remnants of the Fairy Godmother's transformation magic. With his Instant Full Mastery, he could feel every strand.
Lady Tremaine, growing suspicious and jealous of the attention the mystery girl was receiving, slipped away from the table. Elodas followed at a distance, keeping to the shadows. He knew what came next in the original tale: the stepmother would try to sabotage the moment, perhaps by tripping servants or spreading rumors.
Instead, Lady Tremaine cornered a servant near the staircase and hissed orders to spill wine on Cinderella's dress at the right moment.
Elodas stepped forward quietly. "That won't be necessary."
Lady Tremaine whirled, eyes flashing with anger. "You again? Who do you think you are, interfering in my affairs?"
Elodas shrugged, the half-smile never leaving his face. "Just a traveler who dislikes unnecessary cruelty."
The stepmother laughed coldly and raised her hand, a hidden jeweled ring on her finger glowing with a minor curse spell she had prepared for emergencies—something to wither beauty and ruin gowns.
She flicked her wrist, sending a dark bolt of magic straight at Elodas.
In that instant, his Heaven-Defying Comprehension and Instant Full Mastery reacted. He had already understood every aspect of curse magic from the earlier dress-up ritual. The dark energy dissolved harmlessly against an invisible barrier he instinctively created with transformation magic.
Elodas yawned lightly, covering his mouth with the back of his hand as if bored. "Cute trick. But I've seen better."
Lady Tremaine's eyes widened in shock. She tried again, pouring more power into a stronger curse meant to bind and humiliate.
Elodas raised one finger lazily. A single, casual flick of transformation magic—wrapped in a subtle illusion so no one would see the source—struck her. The curse she had cast rebounded perfectly, amplified tenfold by his transcendent mastery. Lady Tremaine's elegant gown suddenly transformed into rags, her perfectly coiffed hair turned into a bird's nest of twigs and leaves, and her face broke out in comical green spots. She stumbled backward, tripping over her own feet and landing in a dramatic heap right in the middle of the dance floor.
The music screeched to a halt. The entire ballroom turned to stare.
Gasps and laughter erupted. The stepsisters shrieked in horror. "Mother?!"
Cinderella, still dancing with the prince, looked on in wide-eyed confusion as the woman who had tormented her for years was publicly humiliated in the most ridiculous way possible.
Elodas stood a few steps away, yawning again as if the whole thing was mildly tiring. "Oops. Must have been a loose thread or something."
With the stepmother now a laughingstock, the original plot was completely derailed. No more sabotage. No more midnight escape ruined by cruelty. The Fairy Godmother's magic on Cinderella remained intact, but the romantic "happily ever after" with the prince felt suddenly secondary to the comedy unfolding.
The prince helped Cinderella steady herself, but his eyes kept darting toward Elodas with a mix of jealousy and bewilderment. The stepsisters rushed to their mother, trying to drag her away while the crowd pointed and chuckled.
Elodas turned and walked toward the exit with the same casual stride, the pink ribbon on his wrist catching the chandelier light. He had one-shotted the main antagonist of the story without drawing a sword, without chanting a spell, and while literally yawning from boredom.
Original fate roasted to dust, he thought. The ball is now a comedy show instead of a romance. Cinderella will still get her chance at happiness, but not through the scripted slipper hunt. The trial condition should be satisfied. Time to head back.
As he reached the grand doors, the clock began to strike midnight. Instead of the usual panic, Cinderella simply smiled, thanked the prince for the dance, and slipped away gracefully—her confidence boosted by the sudden fall of her tormentor.
Elodas stepped outside into the cool night air, the castle lights fading behind him. A soft portal shimmer began to form in front of him, the Tower calling him back.
He glanced once over his shoulder at the chaotic ballroom, where Lady Tremaine was still being laughed at and the stepsisters were in full meltdown.
A tiny, satisfied smirk tugged at his lips.
"Floor cleared," he murmured under his breath. "And no one will ever know how."
The portal swallowed him in a swirl of light, returning the secret master to the Reincarnation Tower.
Back in the main world, his family would soon celebrate their "lucky" son's first successful trial.
And Elodas Charming would continue pretending he was just an average guy who got very, very fortunate.
The comedy had only just begun.