"Where?"
I blinked, trying to make sense of where I was. It didn't look like anything I recognized. Everything was pitch-black, empty. The ground beneath me was covered in some kind of black liquid that clung to my clothes. My eyes couldn't quite focus, but there was something oddly familiar about this place like I had been here before... or maybe I belonged here.
I sat up, trying to clear my head. A few black mountains off in the distance, and a giant grey moon hanging behind them, casting this soft, eerie light. The weird thing was... none of this felt strange. Not the darkness, not the liquid, nothing. My mind wasn't racing, it wasn't screaming at me to panic. It just... was.
I pushed myself up, still covered in that black goo, and looked around again. The grey moon started to rise from behind the mountains, spilling this pale light over everything. It wasn't much, but it was enough. And that's when I saw him—standing there like he'd been there all along.
His hair was grey, long, and messy, falling past his shoulders. His clothes were black, etched with these strange grey runes, and he had this black sword, the hilt as grey as the runes, stabbed into the ground beside him. But it was his fearsome mask that caught my attention—the way it covered his face entirely, with more patterns and runes etched onto it.
He didn't speak. Just stood there, staring at me with this intense focus. I could feel his gaze, like he was seeing right through me, weighing me, measuring me. Oddly enough, I didn't feel scared. No, it was more like... nostalgia. Like I should know him. Like I'd met him before, even though I couldn't remember when.
My lips felt frozen, questions bubbling in my mind, but I couldn't bring myself to say a word. Then, before I could even react, he was there—right in front of me, like the distance between us had never existed.
He reached out with his right arm, his hand landing on my shoulder. His touch was cold, but his amber eyes, glowing faintly beneath his mask, locked onto mine.
"Please," he whispered, his voice heavy with something I couldn't quite place, sadness maybe? His grip tightened on my shoulder, like he needed me to hear this.
His body shook, almost imperceptibly, and then—he dropped to his knees, the weight of whatever burden he carried pressing him down. His words came again, strained, desperate:
"Please... Win."
...
My eyes slowly opened, locking onto the same old ceiling I'd been waking up to for what felt like a few days. This warm, fuzzy feeling spread through my whole body, and I could tell the aches and pains from the brutal training sessions were finally gone. No more soreness, no more stiffness. It felt like I could finally breathe again. 'Who was that?'
I pushed myself up in bed, blinking away the last remnants of sleep. That's when I noticed her—sitting quietly beside me. Collete.
"Collete?" I mumbled, my voice still heavy with sleep. "What are you doing here?"
She jumped slightly, her face flushed as she stammered out, "Y-Young lord, a l-letter arrived for you." Her hands trembled as she held the envelope out toward me, her cheeks a shade of pink that was... kinda cute, honestly.
I couldn't help but find her reaction amusing. "Cute," I thought, a small smile creeping onto my face. My eyes drifted down to the letter, and instantly, I noticed the seal of the Corralia Duchy. Important, no doubt.
I took it from her, tearing open the white envelope and unfolding the letter inside. My eyes skimmed over the words, trying to take in the message as quickly as possible.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Duke Edgar Corralia
Duke of Corralia
House of Corralia
23rd September, Year 748 of The Dominion
To His Grace, Lord Arin Whiteclark
Duke of Whiteclark
Whiteclark Duchy
My Lord Whiteclark,
I write to you with the utmost respect and with a matter of grave importance concerning the engagement between my daughter, Lady Vivianne Corralia, and your esteemed son, Lord Lucian Whiteclark.
After much consideration and deliberation, it has been decided that the engagement between our two houses shall be brought to a respectful conclusion. This decision, though regrettable, has been made with the greatest of care, with the welfare and futures of both families at the forefront of our minds.
I wish to make it clear that no ill will or misunderstanding has led to this resolution, but rather it is our belief that both Vivianne and Lucian's paths diverge in ways that no union could reconcile.
With respect and sincerity,
Duke Edgar Corralia
Duke of Corralia
House of Corralia
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Reading the letter, my eyes widened. Wait—they broke off my engagement? Just like that? Without me even meeting my fiancée? What was her name again... Vivianne, right. Did I mess up somewhere? Or was this some internal family issue? I mean, all I did was ignore her letters. Not exactly the worst thing, right?
To be fair, I hadn't exactly had time to read them. I'd been too busy with magic books, learning spells, trying to get stronger, the usual. But still, I'd never even met her or her father. According to Collete, she was supposed to be this sweet, beautiful girl, apparently infatuated with me. I didn't blame her, but... well, I guess that didn't matter anymore.
A smile tugged at my lips, though I quickly suppressed it. This worked out better for me. I didn't need the complication of a fiancée, not with the way things were going. I wasn't planning on staying here long-term—just long enough to get the strength I needed. Having a fiancée would've been a massive headache. Sure, if it were a political marriage, I could have broken it off easily. But this? This was out of love. And it wasn't fair to her, to Vivianne. I couldn't just play along and pretend to be Lucian Whiteclark. That would only hurt her more in the end.
And it wasn't just her. I was already lying to Lucian's parents. They genuinely believed I was their son, and trusted me with their hearts. And me? I wasn't their son. I was... a stranger in their lives, an imposter. I didn't deserve their love, their trust. But this? At least it saved me from having to reject her myself. I wouldn't have had a clue how to do that anyway. I mean, I've never even dated a girl. How was I supposed to handle something like this?
"Young Lord?" Collete's voice snapped me out of my thoughts.
"Huh?"
"What is it? Did something happen?" She looked concerned, her brows knitting together.
I let out a sigh, glancing at the letter in my hand. "It's my engagement," I said slowly. "It's been called off."
Collete froze, her eyes widening. I could practically see the questions buzzing in her head. She wanted to ask a million things, but I wasn't in the mood to answer. I already knew what was coming next. The same old trope—the protagonist gets his engagement broken off. How original. The only thing left now was to see how my "parents" would react.
Mother? Oh, she'd definitely be furious. Father... I wasn't so sure. He always kept his cool and stayed distant. But me? I'd be the one getting chewed out for sure. And, knowing how these things go, I'd probably have to visit Vivianne's place to have the talk or something. Fantastic.
I stood up from the bed, turning to Collete with a forced smile. "Do my mother and father know?"
"No, young lord, you're the first one to read it."
Of course. I already knew that, but I asked anyway. Well, guess there's no avoiding it now. Time to face the wave.
"Alright then," I said, letting out another sigh. "Let's go tell them."
...
The room was wrapped in an eerie silence as my father, Arin Whiteclark, rested his chin on his hands, his eyes fixed on me. Beside him, sitting on the red sofa, was my mother, Liana Rorte Whiteclark. Her brown eyes were glued to the letter I'd handed them moments ago. Every servant in the room stood frozen, tense, including Collete, who was standing just beside me. But the real source of tension? That icy, suffocating aura filling the space—yeah, that was coming from my father.
They hadn't said a word. For what felt like an eternity, the silence sat heavy in the room, pressing down on me. I didn't dare break it. To be honest, I was too scared to.
And then, suddenly—"Why?" My mother's voice cut through the silence, sharp with fury.
My father, still calm, still cold, turned to her. "What happened, dear?"
"They decided to break off the engagement between our son and Vivianne," she said, her voice filled with disbelief.
Another round of silence followed, and I could feel the eyes of the servants on me, filled with concern, maybe even pity. But I didn't need their pity.
"I see." My father's voice had a slight edge to it now, a hint of anger beneath the calm.
"Don't just 'I see' me, Arin!" my mother snapped, frustration and hurt clear in her tone. "This marriage was supposed to unite the two ducal houses!"
"And both Vivianne and Lucian were excited about it," she continued, her voice cracking a little.
Wait... I was excited? So I loved her too, huh? Great.
"I loved her like my own daughter!" my mother added, her voice trembling as emotion took over. She started rambling—about how Vivianne loved me, how I loved Vivianne, how she wanted to see our kids, already imagining our future family. Mother, you're getting a little ahead of yourself here.
It took her a moment to calm down, and honestly, I could understand why she was upset. I mean, I hadn't ever experienced a breakup, but betrayal? Yeah, I knew how that felt. When someone you trust rips that trust to shreds? That's not easy to deal with.
"It was likely due to Lucian's odd behavior over the past six months," my father added, breaking the quiet.
Odd behavior? What the hell was that supposed to mean? What did this dumbass do? Don't tell me he was out here being a jerk to women or kicking around commoners or something. That didn't seem right. First off, the guy was built like a damn twig—he probably couldn't even hurt a fly, let alone start fights. And second, that's not the Lucian Collete described. He was kind and ambitious, treated people equally, and was well-loved.
It wasn't just talk either. The servants treated me—well, Lucian—with respect, not fear. And Hans and Giles, the guys who helped me out in the forest, they treated me like I was someone they actually respected. That doesn't happen if you're some pompous jerk. So what was going on here?
"Father," I finally spoke up, keeping my voice as calm as possible. "What odd behavior?"
His icy gaze turned toward me, and then he began explaining what happened during the six months before my disappearance. According to him, I had suddenly gone mad—spouting nonsense about some god named Arkansas. Wait, Arkansas? That was the name from the letter! But that wasn't the part that really got to me. No, the part that made a chill creep down my spine was when he mentioned Lucian Crawford. That's... that's my name from Earth.
I could feel beads of sweat forming on my forehead. My heart raced, panic clawing at the edges of my mind. My reaction must've shown on my face because my father's eyes narrowed on me, studying my every move. "Are you feeling unwell, son?" he asked, his voice calm but with a hint of suspicion. I felt exposed, like he could see right through me. What if he realized I wasn't his real son? What would he do?
"N-no, Father," I stammered, desperately trying to keep my composure. "I'm fine."
"Hmm, fine then."
Phew, I mentally sighed in relief. He didn't push it further.
My father stood up from the sofa and moved toward the window, gazing out at the darkening sky. His lips parted, and he spoke quietly, but with the authority that always sent a ripple through the room.
"We're leaving for Corralia tomorrow at noon. Be ready."
Huh? Well, I saw this coming. It wasn't exactly a surprise. Knowing my father, a knight with unwavering respect for the code of honor, he wouldn't take this lying down. To him, this engagement being broken was like someone throwing cold water on his honor. And, of course, there was the added layer that his son had been hurt in the process. Haha, right—funny. I'm not hurt. Really.
"But, Father, my trai—"
"It won't take long," he interrupted, his tone leaving no room for argument.
"Umm, yes, Father," I mumbled, knowing full well there was no point in pushing back. Looks like it is time for some engagement-breaking drama. My physical training will be held off for a while.