Pain clawed at Cedric's ribs, a sharp, unyielding reminder of his frailty. He groaned, rolling onto his side on the cold, stone floor. The room was dim, lit only by a lantern's flickering glow, casting long, eerie shadows on the damp walls. He wasn't alone.
"Get up, you useless mutt!" barked a voice above him, harsh and mocking.
Cedric's body protested as he pushed himself to his knees. His breathing was labored, his vision blurred. A pair of polished boots entered his line of sight, the leather glinting faintly in the weak light.
"Look at you," the voice sneered. "Cowering like the dog you are."
Cedric lifted his gaze, locking eyes with the source of his torment. Ronan Wynthorne, his half-brother, towered over him. The young noble was everything Cedric wasn't—broad-shouldered, clean-cut, and exuding an air of cruel confidence.
"You think Father's going to waste his time with a bastard like you?" Ronan asked, his voice dripping with disdain. "Know your place."
Cedric's lip curled in defiance, but before he could muster a retort, Ronan's boot struck out, sending a nearby wooden stool crashing to the ground. He laughed—a cold, hollow sound—before striding out of the room, his footsteps echoing down the corridor.
Silence settled over the chamber, broken only by Cedric's ragged breathing. He sank back onto the floor, his hand instinctively clutching his bruised side.
"This… isn't a dream, is it?" he whispered.
His memories were a jumbled mess—a chaotic swirl of his life as Max Bishop and this new existence as Cedric Wynthorne. It was all too vivid to be a nightmare. He closed his eyes, trying to make sense of it, when a soft chime echoed in his mind.
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[System Activated]
Welcome, User. You have been reincarnated into the world of The Warring Realms. Your current status is: Cedric Wynthorne, Bastard Noble.
Initial Quest Unlocked: Survive the Day.
Objective: Avoid any further physical harm until nightfall.
Reward: Healing Potion (Minor).
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Cedric blinked. A translucent screen hovered before him, faintly glowing in the dim room. The text was sharp and clear, as though etched into the air itself.
"A system?" Cedric muttered, his voice hoarse. "Like in a game?"
His mind raced. This was new—something the novel hadn't mentioned. The System felt like an extension of his thoughts, a guiding force intertwined with his existence. He hesitated, then focused on the words.
"Details."
The screen shifted, the text rearranging itself.
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[Quest Details]
Survive the Day
Objective: Avoid injuries or death until nightfall.
Tips: Avoid confrontation. Seek allies.
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Cedric exhaled slowly. "Alright. Survive. That's simple enough… I think."
He forced himself to his feet, his body protesting with every movement. The room he was in was little more than a glorified cell. The walls were rough stone, the air damp and heavy with mildew. A narrow bed of straw sat in one corner, and a cracked mirror hung crookedly on the far wall.
Cedric shuffled to the mirror, wincing as his reflection came into view. His face was pale and gaunt, dark circles under his dull gray eyes. A fading bruise marred his left cheek, and his dark hair was a tangled mess.
"This body… it's pathetic," Cedric muttered. But his tone lacked contempt. Instead, it held determination. "No wonder everyone hates you… but that changes now."
The corridor outside Cedric's room was no better than the chamber itself. The stones were uneven, the air thick with the scent of damp earth. Flickering torches lined the walls, casting wavering light that barely pushed back the encroaching darkness.
Cedric moved cautiously, his bare feet silent against the cold floor. He had no weapons, no armor—only the clothes on his back and the faint hope offered by the System.
The Wynthorne estate, as Cedric remembered from the book, was vast and opulent. But its grandeur was reserved for the upper floors, where his father, Duke Alaric Wynthorne, and his legitimate family resided. The lower levels, where Cedric was confined, were a labyrinth of servants' quarters, storage rooms, and forgotten hallways.
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[Optional Quest Unlocked: Gain the Loyalty of a Servant.]
Objective: Earn the trust of a servant in the Wynthorne household.
Reward: Healing Potion (Minor)
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Cedric's steps faltered as the new notification appeared. His brow furrowed in thought. In the novel, Cedric had been universally hated, not just by his family but by the servants as well. Gaining their trust would be no small feat, but loyalty was a currency he couldn't afford to ignore.
As Cedric rounded a corner, he spotted a figure kneeling on the floor, scrubbing at the stones with a frayed cloth. It was a young maid, her auburn hair tied into a messy bun. She was thin—too thin—and her movements were slow, her exhaustion evident.
Cedric approached cautiously, his shadow falling over her. The maid froze, her shoulders tensing as she turned to look up at him. Her wide, fearful eyes met his, and she quickly bowed her head.
"M-my lord," she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper.
"What's your name?" Cedric asked, keeping his tone gentle.
The maid hesitated, her hands clutching the rag tightly. "Rose, my lord."
Cedric crouched down, ignoring the protests of his aching body. "Rose, I need your help."
Rose blinked, her expression shifting from fear to confusion. "My… help?"
"Yes," Cedric said. "I know what they say about me. I know how I've been… but I want to change. And I can't do it alone."
The words felt strange in his mouth, but they were true. Cedric—or Max—had no intention of repeating the original Cedric's mistakes. He needed allies, even if they were small and seemingly insignificant.
Rose stared at him, her brow furrowing. "You… want to change?"
Cedric nodded. "And I'll help you in return. Whatever I can do to make your life easier, just tell me."
The System chimed faintly, but Cedric ignored it, focusing on Rose. She seemed to wrestle with her thoughts, her gaze darting between him and the floor.
"I… I'll try, my lord," she said finally, her voice still hesitant but carrying a glimmer of hope.
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[Quest Progress: Rose is beginning to trust you.]
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Cedric felt a small surge of relief. It was a start—a fragile thread of trust that he couldn't afford to break.
Rose led Cedric to the kitchen, a dimly lit space filled with the smells of bread and stew. The cook, a gruff older man, barely glanced at them as Rose handed Cedric a small plate of food—a chunk of bread and a cup of thin broth.
"It's not much," she said apologetically.
"It's perfect," Cedric replied, offering her a faint smile. He ate quickly, the warmth of the broth easing the chill in his bones.
Later, back in his chamber, Cedric collapsed onto the straw bed. The System chimed softly as the sun dipped below the horizon.
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[Quest Complete: Survive the Day.]
Reward: Healing Potion (Minor).
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A small vial appeared in Cedric's hand, the liquid inside glowing faintly. He stared at it for a moment before uncorking it and downing the contents. A soothing warmth spread through his body, easing his aches and bruises.
"This is just the beginning," Cedric murmured, his grip tightening on the empty vial. "I won't be the Cedric they all despise. I'll forge my own path."
In the distance, the sound of laughter and music from the main hall echoed through the corridors—a stark contrast to Cedric's grim reality. But for the first time since awakening, he felt a flicker of hope.