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Three years and several months have gone by. During that time, I practised crawling and attempted walking. At first, it was quite difficult, as this body had been damaged when my soul was implanted into it. In time, I managed to adapt, though I could only walk for short periods. Each day, I trained by walking a set distance to strengthen my leg muscles and build stamina. It was a simple yet demanding task, for I would often be left panting for breath, only to be discovered by one of the maids, my mother, or the guards, all of them worrying about my health. In the end, their concern faded, as everyone grew accustomed to seeing me crawling or exhausted from walking. Of course, I never walked without purpose. From the very beginning, whenever I trained by crawling or walking, I always made my way to a single destination: the small library within the building.
Each time I reached the small library, I would pick up a book and try to decipher the language of this world and its alphabet, hoping to draw meaning from the pages. Yet it proved difficult, for the letters and words were unlike those of the many worlds I had once understood. At first, I considered giving up, thinking it might be better to wait until this body grew older, when I could leave the home I had grown accustomed to and find another way to learn the language.
One day, however, as I struggled with a book, a maid with light-blue hair happened to pass by and noticed me. Seeing my determination to read, she stepped into the library, pulled a volume from the dusty shelves, brushed it clean, and handed it to me. When I opened it, I realised it was a primer—a book of basic education designed to teach the language. I felt grateful, though I still could not make sense of it. Perceiving my frustration, the maid studied my expression and then chose to help me directly, guiding me through the book and teaching me in person.
Now… I understand the basics of the language and its alphabet, and I have begun to decipher it naturally on my own. It was thanks to the maid that I reached this point, for she became my tutor, teaching me and helping me to grasp the books I read. She would explain their contents to me directly—just as she is doing right now—but there was one problem.
"So, the heroes of the past sealed away one of the most dangerous beings the world has ever faced—so powerful that no one could have imagined its might. This being was called 'Hinerous', an evil god from another world, appearing in his true divine form. To oppose him, the heroes of old fought alongside the goddesses and gods of their races, each standing against the evil that had descended from beyond," Yukino said in a serious tone as she read the fairytale book before me.
"Wow, the heroes are very strong, Aunt Yukino," I said calmly, speaking her name in the language of this world with an indifferent expression. My eyes lingered on the storybook illustration: heroes of many races stood together, united not only with their own kind but also with countless other species—though not all were mentioned, for the tale had been simplified to make it easier for children to understand.
On the page, they faced a four‑legged monster with a massive, bulky torso. Along each of its arms jutted sharp, horn‑like edges. Three great horns rose from its head: two of equal height on either side, and a central one towering above them both, longer than the other two combined. Its hide was a dull grey, and at its chest gleamed a vast gem, so immense that the goddesses themselves were drawn as tiny figures before it.
The book described the creature as an evil god. Yet, as I gazed at the image, I knew the truth: it was no god of evil at all.
As she continued reading the storybook, recounting the heroic deeds of the past in this world, I listened quietly with an indifferent expression—though, in truth, that was simply my natural look. When she finished, she closed the book and brought our reading session to an end.
"That is all for now. Do you have any moments you liked in this book, Young Master Ragnar?" she asked happily, her expression radiating the joy she seemed to find in serving me. I had grown accustomed to that look, for it appeared often during our many reading sessions together.
Yes, that was right—she always read to me children's tales of heroes: stories of them fighting against disasters or saving kingdoms from invading armies. Yet I knew these tales were heavily filtered, shaped to nurture a child's imagination and preserve a healthy mind, leaving out the harsher truths that lay beneath.
"Yes, Aunt Yukino, I enjoyed the moment when the heroes fought against the evil god. It was very cool and super amazing," I said with an indifferent expression. Yet those words were a lie—I was not impressed in the slightest. Not even a little. I was merely imitating the way children tend to speak.
"It is good that you enjoyed it. Alright, Young Master, I shall go and tend to your mother now. If you need anything, you may call for me," Yukino said with a bright smile, unaware that my words had been a lie.
As she left the small library, I forced a smile and waved goodbye. Once she was gone, the smile faded, and my face returned to its usual, indifferent expression.
I climbed down from the chair and reached for a book using the ladder attached to the shelves. When I had first discovered the library, it had been thick with dust, cobwebs, and pests. But Yukino, who had seen me come here, decided to clean it thoroughly and, in time, also chose to tutor me—just as she had earlier.
As I ascended the ladder and pulled out the book, I glanced at its title: Botany. It was a book on plants, compiled by researchers of many different races, each contributing their knowledge to create a single, unified work.
Ever since the Great War, waged by all the races a few decades ago, relations between them had been fraught with hostility. For a time, bitterness and resentment ran deep. Yet eventually, the leaders of each race agreed to form a truce. At first, the people resisted such a peace—too many had lost loved ones, too many had suffered. But slowly, acceptance began to take root.
The book I now held was one of the ways the leaders sought to change perspectives. By allowing their finest researchers to collaborate across species, they produced works that combined their knowledge into a single volume, published for the world to see. This was not merely scholarship; it was a symbol of unity.
Of course, prejudice had not vanished. There were still those who despised other races. After all, mortals in this world could live long lives, sustained by the energy resources that permeated it—mana, aura, and many others. Each race and each land possessed its own unique energies: some could be wielded only by a particular race, others were inaccessible to certain races, and a few, like mana, could be used by all.
It is because of energy resources such as these—granting mortals unnaturally long lives—that prejudice between the races has not yet faded. After all, those who resent the truce are the very ones who lived through the war. This, in turn, is why the game received poor reviews: it was weighed down by too many elements and mechanics, making its content unnecessarily difficult to grasp.
Yet, as someone who has lived a long life, I understood the use of these energy resources. I had wielded them in my original body—just as all mortals once did, back when our world was invaded.
As I opened the botany book, I found detailed descriptions of the plants within. Each entry outlined their appearance, the environments in which they grew, their properties, and much more—including the many ways they could be used.
As I read through the book, my gaze drifted to the window of the small library. Judging by the angle of the sun and the way its light streamed through the glass, it seemed to be nearly lunchtime. I committed the page number to memory so I could return to it tomorrow. Closing the book, I carefully climbed the ladder and placed it back in its original spot.
Having done so, I noticed Rina, the guard whose name I had recently learnt, step into the small library room.
"Yahoo, young master! It's Rina, your big sister. I'm here to take you for lunch," she said cheerfully.
"Rina, pretending to be kin to a noble is a capital crime. You could be executed for it," I said; my tone was calm, and my expression was indifferent.
"Eh? I had no idea… Please forgive me," Rina exclaimed with mock fright, though it was obvious she was just teasing.
"All right then, you are forgiven," I replied in a calm tone.
"Thank you, young master. Hehe, but you really ought to smile more, or I might believe you're serious… and people could easily take it the wrong way," Rina remarked with an awkward laugh, teasing me all the same.
"Like this?" I said in an even voice, trying to copy the kind of smile I had witnessed countless times in my original life.
"Maybe, young master, it's better if you don't smile. It looks as though you are smiling, but somehow it doesn't feel like a smile at all—it feels like an imitation. But I don't really know," Rina said awkwardly as she observed my smile while we walked to the dining room.
"….." I gave no reply, as her words were true. I could only mimic a smile, not offer a genuine one.
Rina and I spoke together for some time while walking to the dining room.
After reaching the dining room, Rina sat with the other guards, Sana and Aurelia, whose names I had learnt while studying the alphabet and language of this world.
As for me, I simply took the seat beside my mother, with the help of one of the maids. As I sat, I noticed something unusual: there were mini apple pies. Normally, we do have them from time to time, but what shocked me was their appearance. They looked rather burnt, as though someone had accidentally left them in the oven too long.
My mother, noticing that I had fixed my gaze on the pies, picked one up and placed it on my plate with a smile. Yet that smile seemed nervous—wait, don't tell me she made it? Suddenly, I grew concerned for my life. After all, in the three years and a few months since the assassination, my mother has devoted herself to training and growing stronger. Somehow, she has also been trying to learn cooking from the maids. But every time she attempts it, the results are disastrous. It's as if, instead of preparing a meal, she's on the verge of setting the entire building ablaze.
Well, I had better start praying to myself. I'm not religious, but I do pray—only to myself. Once I had finished my little prayer, I picked up a fork with my small hand and cut into the mini apple pie. As the fork sank in, I noticed the apples inside had not been cut properly. Still, seeing my mother's expression, I thought I ought to be a good son and reward her effort.
I lifted the piece I had cut, placed it into my mouth, and began to chew, tasting the pie…
"Delicious…" I murmured unconsciously, my face blank as the flavours spread across my tongue. The strong buttery taste mingled with an intense sweetness, underpinned by spices that felt a little heavy. The apples themselves were uneven—some soft, others still firm where the cuts had been careless. The crust, too, was overly crisp.
These were the flaws I could clearly discern as I chewed the piece of mini apple pie. It was supposed to be bad—by all accounts, it should have been—but somehow, against all expectation, I found it delicious. What was this feeling…?
As I spoke those words, the others began to try the apple pie, my mother included. Their reactions, however, were quite different from mine—leaning mostly towards the negative.
"It… is… still an… improvement. The taste is… quite decent," Yukino remarked in a measured tone, clearly trying not to offend her master.
Seeing that Yukino had tried to speak kindly, everyone else followed her lead, doing their best not to displease my mother.
"It… is very well seasoned…" Rina said, trying her best to compliment the cooking. Holy—she really had to mention the seasoning, when it was already far too strong.
"It tastes so sweet I could see the stars!" Sana declared with a big smile, also attempting to flatter. Wait—are you saying my mother's cooking could send you straight to heaven?
"I can feel your effort, Madam," Aurelia added, trying to sympathise while offering praise. Wow. That's a huge landmine to step on. Normally, you'd describe the texture or the flavour first, but mentioning only the effort? That's practically admitting the food is a disaster.
The other maids followed suit, each trying to compliment my mother's cooking by commenting on the taste or texture.
"Thank you, everyone," my mother said with a pained expression, as though she wanted to hide in a corner and eat her mini apple pie alone. But she knew that doing so would only deepen her sorrow rather than ease it.
While everyone else was busy trying to lighten her mood, I simply kept eating the mini apple pie. Strange… I knew it tasted bad, and yet, somehow, it felt delicious to me. Had my taste buds died? No, that couldn't be it—I could clearly taste how flawed it was. So why did it still feel good?
After finishing my mini apple pie, I felt full. I watched as everyone tried to lift my mother's spirits after her cooking mishap. Honestly, it felt as though only yesterday the air between us had been heavy with unease in the aftermath of the assassination. Yet now, after three years and a few months, everyone seemed to be getting along well now.
"It feels as though only yesterday you longed for death, and now you wish to live a long, pleasant life in this body, treating this world as a mere vacation before returning to your original one," Wraith said sarcastically, his words meant only to provoke me.
I ignored his comment and kept my thoughts to myself. If this world truly is The Harem Life of the Five Greats of Evanslyna, the very game I once played, then I'll need to prepare myself by drawing on my past experiences. Still, if I had to compare, I do miss my original body. It may have been nothing more than average, but compared to this one, it feels almost inferior. This body is far superior in every way.
Sigh. I suppose I'll just have to make do with what I have. Honestly, can't a man like me catch a break—even in a different body, in a different world?
After lunch was over, I walked back to the small library. Naturally, I was alone: Yukino was busy tidying the building with the other maids, while my mother remained in the kitchen, studying a cookbook—today's lunch had clearly driven her to improve her culinary skills. As for the guards, they were patrolling the grounds and the other facilities outside.
As soon as I entered the small library, I took out the botany book and turned to the page I had left open that morning. I continued reading, studying the information about the different plants listed within its pages.
My purpose in reading this botany book was to discover plants with the properties I require. If I am to grow stronger in this world, I must first synchronise my soul with my body, which serves as my vessel. Beyond that, I must train my mind to open the realm within and awaken the unique world that lies deep in my soul.
Before I could open my mind's realm to my body's mind, I first needed to find a plant with medicinal properties strong enough to cleanse the corruption within my veins. Without such a remedy, I would be unable to draw upon my mind's realm to its fullest extent, for fear that my brain might be consumed by corruption—and in that state, I would be prevented entirely from accessing my unique world.
After finishing the botany book, I glanced out of the window and saw that the sun was already beginning to set. Dinner would be soon. It was fortunate that I had managed to finish the book in time, though the outcome left me rather disappointed. The plant I had been searching for was mentioned, but its habitat lay deep within demon territory—far beyond my reach for now. I suppose, until then, I will simply have to focus on training both body and mind.
As I returned the book to its shelf, a guard arrived—right on cue. It appeared to be Aurelia. I walked over to her, knowing she would be escorting me to the dining room for dinner.
As she escorted me to the dining room, I caught a glimpse of her expression. Over the years since the assassination, I had begun to notice the dark circles beneath her eyes. They did not seem to be the marks of exhaustion, but of sorrow. She appeared healthy enough, yet there was clearly something weighing heavily on her mind.
I did not think much of it, for it was not my place to intrude. After all, a child ought to act like a child, not an adult. Yet my behaviour of late has been considered rather mature for my age… my expression, in particular, has often been described as serious. Well, it is not as though I could help it.
After reaching the dining room, I took my seat with Aurelia's help. Once everyone began their meal, I was served a child-sized portion: a wholesome plate of mashed potatoes, a small cut of poultry, and a side of vegetables, all accompanied by a creamy mushroom stew. For dessert, I received a delicate tart that seemed to have been made by my mother. It looked quite appealing—though slightly burnt, it still retained its golden sheen.
After we had finished our meal and were preparing to go about our own activities—some attending to their duties, others, like me, wishing to pursue our own interests, while the maids remained behind to clear the table—Aurelia suddenly spoke, her voice carrying clearly across the dining room. "Madam Cesline, I wish to request a few days' leave. I must return to my home, for there is something that concerns my mother."
At her announcement, everyone turned to look at her, myself included. Hm? Something has happened to her mother… could that be the reason she bears those dark circles beneath her eyes? Perhaps I should have asked her about it earlier.....