My Precious Two Have Vanished
My two precious orbs had evaporated. The two precious orbs that used to hang between my legs were gone. No, it wasn’t just the balls. Even the heavy pillar that used to rise every morning like a proud tent pole had been ripped clean off. It was flat. Smooth. There was nothing there. ‘I’m fucked.’ That was the very first sensation I registered the moment I opened my eyes. My body screamed before my brain could even process the situation.
What hit me first—before sight—was an utterly alien sense of touch. The hard wooden bunk from the training camp that used to dig into my back was gone. So was the rough military blanket that should have been covering my broad, muscular frame, reeking of sweat. Instead, the most luxurious silk sheets slid across my skin like liquid. The obscene softness wrapped around my entire body like slime, raising goosebumps all over me. The scent stabbing my nose wasn’t the metallic tang of blood or the dusty stench of the training grounds. It certainly wasn’t the rotten foot odor of the bachelor mercenaries I’d lived with since my teens. No—this was a cloyingly sweet, sticky, high-grade rose perfume that made my head throb and my lungs burn.
“Ah… fuck.”
The sound that crawled out of my throat shocked even me. I slapped a hand over my mouth, but the words had already echoed through the room. It wasn’t my usual gravelly, low, beast-like voice. It was a crystal-clear, heavenly soprano—pure as pearls rolling on a silver tray, like a songbird from paradise cursing like a sailor.
‘I’ve lost my goddamn mind. This is actually insane.’
Warning bells screamed inside my skull. On pure instinct, I bolted upright. Two massive, heavy lumps of fat on my chest immediately jiggled and swayed with terrifying presence. Jiggle. They were heavy. I nearly lost my balance and pitched forward. What the hell were these useless sacks of weight?
I looked down. The first thing that filled my vision was an obscene cleavage. Through the thin, fluttering silk slip, two enormous peaks rose proudly, threatening to burst free. Below them was an impossibly slender waist, delicate as an ant’s. I reached out and touched my stomach. The rock-hard six-pack I’d earned rolling around in the mud as a mercenary was gone. All that remained was soft, marshmallow-white flesh.
But the most critical part… my crotch was completely flat. A smooth, breezy lower body. The emptiness was so profound it felt cold. I wanted to scream and flip out. My body had been that of a twenty-year-old, bloodthirsty, battle-hardened mercenary guard—tall, muscular, and covered in scars. So what the hell was this dazzlingly white, squishy flesh I was stuck in now?
“Your Highness! Have you awakened?”
The door burst open. A middle-aged woman in a neat black uniform strode in. It was Margareta, the head maid in charge of all the royal household’s inner affairs. Several maids trailed behind her, carrying lavish dresses and corsets with quick, mincing steps.
Margareta’s eyes were dry and ice-cold. Unlike the other maids, she didn’t fuss. She was one of the very few who knew my true identity. Instead, she looked at me like I was a bug. That chilling gaze.
“How does your body feel this morning? You didn’t have a fever during the night, did you, Your Highness?”
Margareta approached, bowed with perfect etiquette, then leaned in and whispered directly into my ear. Her voice was frozen steel. She knew. She knew that inside this radiantly beautiful shell of Princess Celestia was the soul of a foul-mouthed, lowborn bastard who had crawled up from the gutter. Her words were polite, but the clear mockery beneath them was unmistakable.
I answered with a dazed expression.
“Uh… it’s fucking awful. I feel so empty I’m going crazy.”
Without thinking, I spread my legs wide and scratched at my crotch. Of course, there was nothing there to scratch.
“Please refrain from such vulgar spreading of the legs. The other maids are watching. No matter how masculine the contents may be, on the outside you are the noble Princess Celestia, known as the flower of the kingdom.”
Margareta frowned and scolded me in a low voice. I realized my mistake and quickly covered my mouth. But the hand that entered my view wasn’t my usual rough, pot-lid-sized paw. It was a slender, delicate hand like a lily, nails painted with sparkling clear polish.
The extreme cognitive dissonance slammed into my brain, and the shitty memories from a few days ago came crashing over me like a wave.
‘That’s right. I… swapped bodies.’
A few days ago. I had been summoned in secret by His Majesty the King and headed to his office. Normally, the old lion would have been sitting on his throne with overwhelming dignity. But that day, he looked utterly wretched. His eyes were sunken with dark circles, and his broad shoulders were slumped. The room was so thick with the acrid smoke of cigars it was hard to breathe.
“The daughters of the Astria royal family… have carried a terrible black magic curse from an enemy nation for three hundred years.”
His Majesty’s lips trembled. I knelt silently and listened. A top secret of the royal family. I had heard rumors, but the truth from his own mouth was brutal.
“While the men easily gain powerful martial strength and magic… the women are devoured by yin energy and die young, never living past twenty. That is the curse.”
His voice shook miserably. It was no longer the voice of a king, but of a desperate father willing to cast aside his crown to save his daughter. I felt a little sorry for him. But that was it. It was someone else’s family business and had nothing to do with me. I wasn’t the royal family’s loyal hound—just a hired guard here for the money.
“However, I must save my beloved Celestia.”
The King stood and gripped my shoulder with crushing force. The grip was so strong it felt like my bones would shatter. His eyes burned with terrible madness.
“The court mage says the only way to save Celestia is to overlay a soul upon hers. And he says you are the only suitable vessel.”
“Y-Your Majesty… surely you don’t mean…”
“Exactly. I will swap your soul with Celestia’s.”
It was insane. I was just a guard who watched over the palace. I had survived as a mercenary since my teens, barely earned a regular position after nearly dying countless times, and now they wanted me to be a time-limited meat shield in place of the princess?
“Your Majesty! I am merely a guard of mercenary origin! How can you ask such a cruel thing of me…!”
“I know. But you and Celestia are both twenty, born on the same day, even at the same hour. Your energies match perfectly. The only difference is that my daughter carries an extreme yin energy, while you possess an explosive yang energy.”
The King grabbed my collar and growled. A blue sword aura flickered before my eyes—a silent threat that he would take my head right there if I refused.
“In return, if this matter ends safely, I will grant you the title of count and a fiefdom. Along with enough gold to last you a lifetime. However…”
The King’s eyes flashed with demonic energy. It was the murderous aura of a terrifying daughter-obsessed fool.
“If you leave even a single scratch on my daughter’s body or try any funny business, I will not only take your head, but also behead every piece of trash from that mercenary band you crawled out of and feed them to the crows.”
An enormous bribe of gold and land that would let me live like a king for life. And a horrific threat holding my comrades—who were like family—hostage. I never had the right to refuse from the beginning.
From that day on, I endured in the royal library basement, breathing in dust alongside the half-dead royal head mage, Lazarus. The solution was clear. The curse targeted Celestia’s dense yin energy. Therefore, my soul, brimming with vigorous yang energy, had to enter the princess’s body to completely cancel out the curse’s aggression.
And then came the fated night. In the underground altar, I stood facing Princess Celestia. The dying Lazarus chanted the spell beside us, but I failed to notice the strange glint in his sunken eyes—like he was plotting something.
The princess looking up at me was pale and frail. A delicate girl who looked like she might collapse at any moment. Her eyes were filled with apology and a fierce will to survive.
“Sir Knight… I’m truly sorry. Please take care of my body.”
She took my rough hand and shed big, fat tears. Honestly, when a girl that beautiful cries and begs you, it’s hard not to soften. Fuck, that’s exactly why I hate it when women cry.
“I will also treat Sir Knight’s wonderful… ahem, sturdy body with great care.”
Even as she wiped her tears, her gaze seemed to secretly trace the veins on my thick pectorals, appreciating the muscle fibers. It might have sparkled strangely, but in my panic, I didn’t notice that sticky sense of unease.
And so we performed this forbidden magic. The archmage immersed himself in research to solve the curse, and I began an indefinite stint as a time-limited meat shield with no end in sight. The secret was strictly controlled. Only five people knew: His Majesty the King, the archmage, the real princess, me, and head maid Margareta. It was a top-secret matter.
I swore a blood oath—for the count title and the gold, or rather, in the face of forced hostage-taking. Of course, I was internally chewing and swallowing every curse word I knew.