The chamber lay steeped in silence, its air laced with the subtle fragrance of aged pine.
Upon the stone walls, wrought iron candelabras bore rows of waxen sentinels, their flickering glow painting shifting patterns across the tomes that formed a fortress upon the central oaken desk. Nearby, atop a feather-stuffed mattress, a raven-clad youth sat motionless - his fingers tracing arcane sigils embossed upon a leather-bound grimoire as dark as midnight.
His amber eyes devoured pages with unnatural speed, lingering but moments upon each parchment leaf before the final vellum sheet whispered closed. Rubbing ink-stained fingers across weary eyes, the youth exhaled slowly - the sound unnaturally loud in the silent room.
"Chip. Status report." His murmur barely disturbed the candle flames.
"Processing complete, Host." The emotionless voice resonated through his skull. "Study duration: 4 hours 6 minutes. Texts assimilated: 128. Commencing cognitive categorization..." This artificial companion - the sole remnant of his past life - remained Carter's only anchor in this alien world.
Rising from the bed, Carter-turned-Enzo approached the arched window. The evening zephyr carried whispers of pine and steel as he closed his eyes, counting the tenth day since his transmigration.
This world mirrored medieval Europe yet pulsed with something... more. The previous occupant of his body - the true Enzo Nightsbane - had been the arrogant, dull-witted heir to Lord Oaken Nightsbane, Warlord of Khaien Citadel upon the Frozen Wastes.
Before winter's grasp tightened, Khaien had clashed with neighboring Wolfsgrave over iron-rich mountains. The ensuing carnage saw Oaken cleave Wolfsgrave's lord in twain, scattering their famed wolf cavalry like leaves before a storm.
Now the dead lord's heir - Young Wolf Kael Frostfang - thirsted for vengeance. Unable to challenge the undefeatable Oaken, Kael's shadowblades had lured Enzo beyond the city walls. Though guards died screaming, two arrows found their mark.
When Oaken returned to find his heir at death's door, his wrath shook the very battlements. Every Wolfsgrave prisoner was flayed alive upon the gates. None knew the true Enzo had perished - his memories and flesh now housing Carter's consciousness.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
The oak door's knock shattered his reverie.
"Enter." Enzo's voice held neither warmth nor malice.
A comely maid in black-and-white livery bowed deeply, her trembling hands betraying the castle's new reality. "Young Master, the Lord demands your presence in the war chamber."
Nodding, Enzo secured the stained-glass window. As he traversed the torchlit corridor, servants pressed themselves against cold stone like beaten hounds. Since the assassination attempt, Oaken's infamous cruelty had intensified - three dozen servants already decorating the spikes atop the outer wall for imagined slights.
All prayed silently for Enzo's continued breathing, knowing their lives were forfeit should the heir perish.
"Wait here," Enzo commanded outside the iron-bound doors. Pausing, he attuned his enhanced hearing to the war council within.
"Though winter stalls our campaign, Fangmire Keep north of Wolfsgrave now flies Khaien's banners!" declared a silver-armored knight. His handsome features twisted with bloodlust. "When the thaw comes, we'll flood the Wolf's Head and Claw villages with steel. Starve the Frostfangs in their own den!"
This was Xavier - Khaien's young garrison commander. Born in gutters but blessed by the War God, Oaken had plucked him from obscurity after the boy slew three armed men at age twelve. Now, at fifteen winters, he stood as the Wastes' youngest blooded knight.
"Clever stratagem," rumbled Oaken's voice like distant thunder. The warlord's obsidian armor drank the torchlight. "But strike those villages, and Frostfang cavalry will descend like blizzard wolves. Their charge shatters shieldwalls. How answer this?"
"The wolf-riders lack fangs without their alpha!" Xavier's gauntlet clenched. "You broke their spine when you slew their lord, Father. Divide our forces - you crush their cavalry while Uncle Talon besieges Wolfsgrave - victory is assured!"
"So Khaien stands undefended?" Oaken's voice dropped to a deadly whisper. "After what befell Enzo?"
Xavier dropped to one knee, armor screeching against stone. "Never, Father! I burn to avenge my brother's blood! The Frostfangs must drown in it!"
Oaken's gaze softened marginally. "Vengeance will come. But Khaien's walls must not stand naked."
"Then let me be the anvil to your hammer," Xavier pressed. "Uncle Talon guards Khaien while you break their villages. Even if wolf-riders come, they cannot withstand your might."
"You truly believe you can contain Kael's rage?" Oaken arched an iron-gray eyebrow.
"Long enough," Xavier vowed, eyes blazing. "Crush their cavalry swiftly, and I'll keep the Young Wolf from your back."
"Done." Oaken's gauntlet struck the war table, splitting the oak. "We march at first thaw."