The pale moon hung high in the night sky, casting a cold light into the grand chamber. The windows were wide open, and a chill breeze swept through the room, causing the oil lamp on the table to flicker erratically.
A noble youth, garbed in exquisite attire, lay beside an overturned chair.
His once handsome face now appeared lifeless, its color drained, eyes tightly shut, lips tinged with purple. An arrow had pierced through his chest, directly aimed at his heart.
"Cough… cough…"
Suddenly, the young man convulsed and gasped, his body jerking upright. His eyes fluttered open, confusion clouding his vision. The room around him was unfamiliar, and he was no longer in the place he remembered.
"What is this place?" he muttered hoarsely, his thoughts racing. "Wasn't I just in the detective agency? Wait... What happened?"
Memories began to flood his mind in waves. His name was Damon Blackwood.
Once the newly appointed baron of Hawk Fortress in the Empire of Dylar, Damon had expected a life filled with grandeur. But fate had other plans for him. On this very night, an unexpected assassination had shattered his life in an instant.
As a soul from Earth, Damon's real name was Su Ming, a detective who had no intention of crossing into another world. He had simply taken a nap at his office, only to wake up in an entirely new body.
"Damn it," he cursed under his breath, wincing from the pain in his chest. The sharp memory of the arrow still embedded in his body jolted him back to reality.
"I can't believe I forgot about this," Damon muttered, his mind still reeling.
The pain in his chest grew unbearable. The arrow was lodged deeply, and Damon knew he had no choice. Either he would pull it out or endure the agony.
Taking a deep breath, he braced himself. With a determined grip, he yanked the arrow out.
Blood sprayed from the wound, splattering across the room as Damon collapsed to the ground. The pain that followed was unimaginable, but strangely, a sense of comfort began to fill him as the blood poured out.
"What the hell is happening to me?" Damon thought, feeling his strength drain along with the blood. His body was fading, and his vision began to blur. But his will to survive kept him from succumbing to the darkness.
Somehow, the comforting sensation spreading through his body revived him, his eyelids fluttering as his heart slowly started to beat stronger.
The next morning...
The bright sunlight streamed through the windows, and a knock echoed from the door.
"Knock, knock, knock."
"Baron Damon Blackwood?" a voice called out from the other side.
Still lying on the floor in the same position as the night before, Damon slowly opened his eyes once more. Struggling, he pushed himself upright, wiping the dampness from his face. It wasn't until he noticed the blood covering his body that his mind truly woke up.
Something was off. His blood wasn't the same as before—it shimmered with a faint golden hue, and it had yet to dry, still flowing like a river.
"What the hell?"
With a sudden realization, Damon ripped open his torn shirt and looked down at his chest. What he saw left him stunned.
The hole left by the arrow had already healed, leaving only a jagged scar. Something had changed within him during the night. The body he now inhabited was no longer the fragile one he once had.
Damon knew that even with his strength as a level one fighter, there was no way he should be able to recover so quickly.
Shaking his head, Damon glanced at the pool of blood on the floor. "Whoever can bleed this much and still be alive... I'm definitely not normal anymore."
Just then, a voice called out from the hallway again.
"Baron Damon?"
Damon recognized the voice instantly—it was his trusted servant, Enqin, who had grown up with him. He was a loyal companion, someone Damon could count on. Even now, with enemies closing in on him, Enqin remained his most reliable ally.
Damon moved quickly to the door and yanked it open, pulling Enqin into the room.
"Baron, what happened to you?" Enqin asked, his face filled with concern as he took in Damon's bloodied appearance.
Damon clapped him on the shoulder, signaling for him to calm down before speaking. "Enqin, I'm fine. Don't ask any more questions. Just clean up the room, and make sure you keep that arrow for me."
Enqin nodded, though confusion still clouded his face. He stepped aside to begin cleaning while Damon made his way toward the bathroom to clean himself up.
After a quick bath and fresh clothes, Damon walked into the dining hall, where his other servant led him to his seat.
As he sat down, the servants began preparing his breakfast, and the old butler, Jace, entered the room with a familiar smile.
"Baron Damon, the red wine from Bessport has been prepared. Shall I serve it now?"
"Please, Jace," Damon replied, watching him carefully.
"Of course, Baron." Jace bowed and poured the wine into Damon's glass with a measured hand.
Throughout the exchange, Damon observed everyone around him. Despite his bloodied state, no one seemed to know about the assassination. They were all acting as if nothing had happened. Did that mean the assassin had come from outside the castle?
Breakfast concluded, Damon continued his usual routine, heading to the training grounds for his morning drills. He swung his sword, lost in thought as he hacked at the training dummies.
"Who could have been behind the attack last night? Jace? No... It can't be him. He's too loyal."
"Could it have been Marcus?" Damon's mind flashed to the figure of a strong, calm knight. But no, Marcus would never make such a foolish decision.
And it certainly wasn't Catherine. She and Marcus were both powerful fighters who had been trained by Damon's family. If he fell, they would be affected as well.
"It has to be someone from outside the fortress," Damon concluded, wiping the sweat from his brow with a towel.
After finishing his exercises, Damon returned to his study, where Enqin had cleaned up the room. Enqin handed him the arrow, and Damon took it carefully, examining its design.
"Enqin," Damon said, his voice serious. "Keep this to yourself. Don't speak a word of what happened in this room."
Enqin nodded, his face grim. "Understood, Baron."
Once Enqin left, Damon studied the arrow more closely. The peculiar features on its tail told him that it was a crossbow bolt—something designed to keep the assassin's identity hidden.
Putting the arrow down, Damon moved to the window and surveyed the view. He then noticed something strange about the stonework on the outside of the castle. There were a few bricks that didn't quite fit.
"It's true then..." Damon thought. "The assassin came from outside."
The thought made him uneasy. Whoever had done this was no ordinary enemy. They must have been powerful, likely an extraordinary being of a higher tier than himself.
Damon was in danger—he needed to make a plan before the assassin returned to finish what they started.