I took a deep breath, steadying myself as I gripped the handle of the heavy oak door. My body still didn't feel like my own, but I had no choice—I had to adapt, and fast. The moment I stepped out of this room, I'd be Ryuji Valoria, the young noble prodigy, not Hayashi, the confused soul of a former salaryman trapped in a strange world.
As the door creaked open, the soft light of the hallway spilled into the room, and I caught sight of my reflection in a nearby mirror. The boy staring back at me was young, maybe fourteen or fifteen. His dark hair, tied loosely behind his head, framed sharp, noble features. His eyes, though, were what caught my attention—vibrant, golden irises that seemed to glow slightly. They were the eyes of someone born into power and privilege, but now... they were mine.
I straightened my posture. If I was going to survive in this world, I couldn't afford to hesitate. I had to become Ryuji, at least on the outside.
The maid from earlier was waiting just outside, bowing as I approached. "Master Ryuji, your father is in the dining hall. He is expecting you."
I nodded, trying to stay calm as I followed her down the hall. The estate was massive, with grand tapestries and polished marble floors that stretched far beyond what I could see. Each step I took reminded me that this world was nothing like the one I knew. The faint scent of incense hung in the air, blending with the distinct odor of ancient wood and stone.
But more than anything, I could feel the mana. It was in the very atmosphere, swirling invisibly around me like an ocean current. The sensation was both overwhelming and exhilarating. The memories of the old Ryuji—the one whose body I now inhabited—told me that mana was the essence of life here, used for everything from combat to healing. It was a tangible force, one I would need to master if I hoped to survive.
The maid stopped at a large set of double doors and gestured for me to enter. I braced myself and stepped through.
The dining hall was enormous, with a long table that stretched across the room. At the far end sat a man—my father, the Duke of Valorian. He looked up as I entered, his sharp eyes studying me for a brief moment before he gestured for me to sit.
"Ryuji," he said, his voice low but commanding. "You're late."
I fought back the instinct to apologize immediately. I wasn't just some office worker reporting to a boss anymore; I was a noble now. I had to act the part. I straightened my posture and nodded. "My apologies, Father. I needed time to gather my thoughts this morning."
The Duke's gaze lingered on me, as if searching for something, before he returned to his meal. "We will be discussing your training schedule after breakfast," he said, cutting into his food. "Your exams at the Academy are coming soon. It's time to put aside distractions and focus."
I barely managed to suppress a grimace. Training? Exams? None of that had been in the world I came from. But as fragments of Ryuji's past life surfaced in my mind, I realized that training was a crucial part of noble life here. Physical prowess and magical ability were expected. My father, a renowned general, wouldn't accept anything less than perfection from his son.
"Yes, Father," I replied, trying to sound confident, though I was anything but.
As I ate, I forced myself to sift through Ryuji's memories. Training, exams, swordplay, magic—these were things I had never experienced in my past life, but to this body, they were second nature. The trick would be accessing that knowledge in a way that wouldn't expose me. I couldn't afford to stumble. If I showed any signs of weakness or confusion, it would raise suspicion, and I couldn't let anyone know I wasn't the real Ryuji.
After breakfast, I followed my father out into the training grounds. It was an expansive field behind the estate, surrounded by towering stone walls. The sky was a brilliant blue, with the sun casting long shadows over the grounds. Rows of weapons lined the far wall, and several young men and women—other nobles, no doubt—were sparring in various sections of the yard.
I watched as a group of them practiced with swords, their movements fluid and precise. Ryuji's memories told me I was expected to be just as skilled, if not more. I had the instincts, the muscle memory, but I still didn't feel comfortable in this body. Everything felt off.
My father gestured to a rack of swords. "We'll begin with sword drills today," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Your mana control can wait until tomorrow."
I stepped forward, eyeing the swords. They were beautifully crafted, their edges gleaming in the sunlight. I picked one up, feeling its weight in my hand. It was lighter than I expected, and as I swung it experimentally, I felt a strange sense of familiarity. Ryuji had trained with swords since he was a child, and though I had never held one before, the movements came naturally to me.
"Good," my father said, watching me closely. "Your form is still sharp."
I nodded, relieved that I hadn't fumbled. But that relief was short-lived as he signaled one of the other nobles to step forward. A tall boy with short, dark hair and a serious expression approached, sword in hand.
"Duel," my father commanded.
My heart skipped a beat. A duel? Now? I wasn't ready for this. But there was no time to protest. The boy in front of me lowered his stance, his eyes focused on me with deadly intent.
I had no choice.
I raised my sword, mirroring the stance that came naturally to Ryuji's body. The boy charged without hesitation, his sword slicing through the air toward me. I barely had time to react, my body moving on instinct as I parried the blow. The clash of steel reverberated through my arm, the force of it jarring but not overwhelming.
Before I could process what was happening, the boy swung again, this time faster. I stepped back, narrowly avoiding the strike. My mind was racing. I had no experience with combat, but this body did. I just had to trust it.
I parried again, this time countering with a quick thrust. The boy deflected my strike, but I saw the faintest hint of surprise in his eyes. He hadn't expected me to recover so quickly.
Good. I could work with that.
I pressed the attack, my body moving faster now, more fluidly. The boy blocked my strikes, but I could feel him faltering, his movements becoming more desperate. In a final exchange of blows, I managed to knock his sword out of his hand, the blade clattering to the ground.
There was a brief silence as the boy stared at his empty hand, then at me.
"Well done," my father said, his voice breaking the tension. "But don't get overconfident. This is only the beginning."
I nodded, my chest heaving as I tried to catch my breath. I had won, but I knew it wasn't enough. If I was going to survive in this world—if I was going to rewrite my fate—I had to adapt. Not just to the body I now inhabited, but to the rules of this world.
This wasn't my old life, where I could blend into the background and avoid conflict. Here, power was everything. Strength, skill, and cunning would decide my future, and I would need all of them to change my fate.