Haines City, the most prosperous port city of Storm Bay, was especially festive today. Crowds lined the streets, cheering with exuberance. Some waved flags, others held banners, and playful chases turned the scene into a lively celebration. "Celebrate the dethroning of Haines' tyrant!" "Justice at last! The end of the Haines Overlord!" "The Iron Duke's righteous act! The true leader of Haines!" "Hail to the Duke! Hail to justice!" Each giant banner spoke of the same theme.

Amidst the commotion, an old, rickety carriage rattled along the street. The bald, worn-out horse and the creaky vehicle moved slowly, completely out of sync with the jubilant atmosphere.

Charlie leaned against the cold, hard wall of the carriage, fingers pressed to his brow, fighting off a searing pain in his head.

"Charlie, how could you? You... you have no sense of decency! How dare you disgrace the princess! What madness possessed you?" The disdainful, disappointed faces of relatives; the irrefutable evidence; and the look of loathing and rage from Princess Aisha—all rushed back to him. The Iron Duke, shaking with fury, struck him with a thunder-infused palm. Darkness fell over Charlie as searing pain drowned out every thought.

The scene shifted in his mind.

An elder in a dark robe stood solemnly in the hall and declared, "Charlie Pavel, for your transgressions against morality, your insult to the princess, your desecration of the throne, bringing shame to your family and inciting His Majesty's wrath, and due to your consistently disgraceful behavior, by the motion of Lord Thomas and the unanimous vote of the Pavel family council, you are hereby stripped of all inheritance rights. Effective immediately!"

Under the scrutiny of the crowd, the elders cast their spells in unison. An ancient parchment hovered, a red lock-shaped rune on it glowed brighter and brighter until it shattered into sparkling fragments. The parchment unfurled slowly, and a line of elegant, pale blue magical signature at the end dissolved away…

This signature represented properties worth billions: fertile coastal ranches, treasure-laden family vaults, the immense tax revenues from Haines Port, control over the family's private Silver Knights Corps comparable to a small imperial legion—assets of incalculable value—all now severed from Charlie.

Charlie's brief life replayed like a film. From the vantage point of his soul, it was clear he deserved this fate. Arrogant, foolish, lazy, lecherous, untrustworthy—a spoiled noble with not a single redeeming trait aside from the appearance inherited from his parents.

As the review ended, Charlie let his hand fall and sighed. He was Charlie, and he wasn't.

In truth, he came from 23rd-century Earth, a physicist involved in an experimental accident. When he regained consciousness, he found himself in an unfamiliar world. Remarkably, the AI chip embedded in his brain had traveled with him.

The Sigma chip was a 23rd-century marvel, implanted in the brain and connected to neural pathways, boosting cognitive capacity, aiding memory, monitoring health, and possessing analytical functions—a vital tool for modern humans of that era.

Thanks to the Sigma chip, he managed to process the overwhelming flood of information quickly, piecing together what had happened. But now what?

Dream or simulation, Charlie was trapped, in danger. Only he knew what had really happened last night.

He'd been lured with promises of seduction by a servant he kept for amusement to a secluded tower. The moment he arrived, he was seized by armed men. He saw an infuriated young maiden, mocking cousins, and a nearly frenzied Duke Thomas.

Only during today's trial did he learn that the beautiful girl was Princess Aisha, the emperor's favorite daughter. He had apparently intruded on her temporary chambers at night, just as she was bathing.

A coincidence too perfect to deny. With his tainted history, who would believe otherwise? The servant disappeared without a trace, and every charge fell squarely on him.

A flawless conspiracy, masterfully executed. Charlie, with his nature and intellect, had no escape. He had too few friends, too many enemies, and no idea who they were or what they planned next.

What now? He had no clue. The only trustworthy person was his driver, Brian, the old servant who once cared for his mother.

"Brian, where are we going?" Charlie asked from inside the slightly shaking carriage.

"We're headed to William's Keep, the place where your mother once lived."

The name was familiar but drew no memories, only that it was his mother's birthplace.

Sensing Charlie's anxiety, Brian spoke up unusually, "Young master, don't let this trouble you too much. You're still the Duke's only blood. If you change your ways, perhaps one day he'll accept you back."

Charlie gave a bitter smile. "Brian, even you don't believe me?"

"It doesn't matter what I believe. What matters is that the princess doesn't, others don't, and the Duke doesn't."

That silenced Charlie. Even Haines' commoners despised him. What more could he say? This was truly being shunned by all.

Finally, Brian sighed. "It's going to be a long road to rebuild your reputation, young master. Take it slow."

Charlie muttered, "I'm afraid I won't be given the chance."

…

By dusk, the carriage passed beyond the city limits.

A hook-shaped cloud hung in the sky, and rain began to drizzle. The evening sun painted the clouds blood-red as it set, an eerie beauty.

Haines City was surrounded by the dense Elven Woods, an ancient forest with a history stretching back thousands of years. Only after the founding of Haines Port did it become known.

As the port grew, the forest was exploited, inciting the wrath of its native creatures and sparking several beastly onslaughts that ended in bloody stalemates.

Afterwards, exploitation slowed, and the hidden orchestrators of the attacks retreated deeper into the woods, establishing a fragile truce.

Despite this, Elven Woods remained dangerous. Beasts still roamed its edges, and only mercenaries dared venture in, hoping for riches.

Outside the city, Brian pulled the carriage over and knocked on the door. With Charlie's permission, he climbed in.

Brian opened a worn leather pouch and solemnly withdrew two ancient scrolls. "Young master, danger may lie ahead, and we can only rely on ourselves. These are scrolls your father copied as an apprentice—'Mana Shield' and 'Arcane Missile'—first-level spells for protection. If we encounter beasts, I may not be able to cover everything alone, given my age."

Charlie grimaced. "Brian, did you forget? At twelve, I was tested by Mr. Migue of the Royal Magical Society, who deemed me unsuitable for any magic."

Brian chuckled. "No worries. These are first-level, zero-magic scrolls. All you need is to recite the incantation. I'll teach you."

"Alright." Charlie, doubtful but willing, knew nothing about magic, only that it was powerful and prestigious among nobles.

Brian took a deep breath, his right hand unconsciously moving as if conducting an orchestra.

Then, he exhaled in a series of strange syllables, rhythmically, in an even flow that completed within three seconds, forming an incantation.

Charlie felt a small surge of energy, a brief blue glow. It didn't activate since the scroll's seal was intact.

"Incantations are the foundation of magic, connecting the mundane world to the arcane," Brian explained. "Now, I'll go slower. Pay attention to the sounds and adjust the tone and rhythm. If the incantation reaches 70% accuracy, your success rate will be over 90%. We can then proceed."

With the Sigma chip, memory was Charlie's forte.

Before Brian could repeat it, Charlie parroted the incantation, awkwardly but without missing a syllable.

Again, he felt a wave of power, weaker this time but present.

Brian's eyes sparkled. "I didn't expect the young master's memory to be so exceptional! To reach over 60% on your first try is amazing! Just a bit more practice."

Brian spared no praise for Charlie.

Charlie replied calmly, "It seems that accuracy is key. Rhythm and intonation come next?"

"Exactly! Completeness is step one, rhythm step two. Tone is less critical for now; you're a beginner."

Brian coached him through it again, and Charlie's performance exceeded expectations. Brian, who had never seen such a fast learner, proceeded with the 'Arcane Missile' spell. The results were similar.

Brian marveled, "Memory is the most crucial skill in learning magic. Many novices get stuck here. A missed syllable drastically reduces success. That's why the bar is high.

"Despite Mr. Migue's assessment, many in the Empire succeed as 'Scroll Magicians' without innate magic talent. The only difference is that others wield mana, while we use money. And the Pavel family isn't short on that."

A glimmer of hope sparked in Charlie's heart.

Brian sighed, "If the Duke knew of this talent, would he regret today's harshness? Revoking inheritance was too severe!"

"Ha, I don't count on his pity," Charlie smiled. "Still, thanks for your encouragement, Brian. I don't feel as worthless now."

"It's more than comfort; it's the truth. Explore this, young master. You might surprise yourself." Brian bowed, an old face beaming, "Let's move on, the day's fading."

"Alright."