This world belongs to an otome game universe where the heroine and her capture targets will eventually save it.
Thus, the plot surrounding the characters—especially the antagonists—is unfolding naturally.
We find ourselves in the Principality of Blanchette. In this world, European-style monarchy reigns supreme, and the capital's palace is truly something straight out of a fairy tale.
Through its hallways walked a two-meter-tall man in gleaming armor, yawning as he had just woken up.
His hair was gray, though he had only just entered his thirties.
His unkempt beard indicated his lack of concern for personal grooming.
A burn-like scar was visible over his left eye.
This man is Jason Arlen Leone, regarded as the strongest man in the principality.
Jason opened a door leading to a playroom.
Inside, two identical, beautiful girls were playing with blocks.
Their golden hair reached the floor but was tied into twin braids.
The elder sister had red eyes and a firm gaze—she was the crown princess, Annerose Allison Lulu Blanchette.
Meanwhile, the younger sister, the second princess with cat-like blue eyes, was Rosemary Bianca Lulu Blanchette.
Rosemary ran toward Jason to hug him.
"Jason, you came!"
"Good morning, Your Highness Rosemary."
He greeted the elder sister in the same tone, earning a complaint.
"Good morning, Your Highness Annerose."
"Hmph. You're late, Jason. Where were you?"
"I overslept."
"What kind of knight is late for a playdate with ladies?"
"One who has to patrol until late."
"Then don't patrol so late!"
As the story dictated, these two girls would grow up to become terrifying villainesses who would wage war against the heroine—who would, in turn, have to defeat them.
The beginning of that plot was the death of their parents, the king and queen, who perished in a monster attack while returning home.
Jason had been with them but survived as the strongest among them.
Several days had passed since then, and the girls had cried as if reborn, their tear-streaked faces gradually calming.
After their parents' death, they formed an odd emotional bond with Jason—they were alike in their grief.
A maid approached and whispered something to him.
"My apologies, Your Highnesses, but duty calls. Monsters have been spotted near the border. Since all the other knights are cowards, I must go eliminate them."
"But we haven't even played yet!"
"I'm truly sorry."
The younger princess approached and took his hand. "Be careful, okay?"
He replied, "Without fail."
◇◇◇
On his way out, he encountered a certain man.
Of average height, slightly hunched, and dressed in typical aristocratic attire—the kind you'd see in period dramas.
Long brown hair, a weary face, dull brown eyes, and a patchy beard that made you want to set it on fire.
"A pleasure seeing you on another fine morning, Viscount Leone."
"Likewise, Count Belkman."
His name was Harry Arlen Belkman, a count—one of the highest ranks in the country.
Originally, the principality had been a duchy under a kingdom, but due to certain circumstances, it seceded. Thanks to its lineage, it became an independent nation with the support of several minor lords.
Since the ducal family (now the royal family) held the highest rank, the title of marquis didn't exist here.
The highest one could aspire to was count—like this unpleasant-looking man.
Jason tried to walk past but was stopped by Count Belkman.
"It seems you've grown quite attached to Their Highnesses since their parents' death."
"The girls are merely leaning on me emotionally. I'm fulfilling my duty as a knight, honoring Their Majesties' final wishes."
"Of course. Hahaha."
The count laughed for some reason before walking away.
◇◇◇
Just like in the game, the principality's main border connected to the kingdom.
This fact had bred decades of resentment among citizens and politicians alike, splitting them into two factions.
One was the pro-war faction, consisting mostly of nobles who wanted to reclaim what was "theirs" and take revenge on the kingdom.
The other was the anti-war faction, which advocated democracy. They shared the goal of reclaiming the kingdom but sought to do it through bureaucracy.
The war-supporting nobles didn't care about bloodshed—they saw it as patriotic. The bureaucrats, however, wanted to avoid unnecessary loss of life.
Jason belonged to neither faction. Picking a side would mean committing to one or the other, and he preferred to live out his days without overthinking—just surviving what little life he had left.
Arriving at the border, he reviewed the documents handed to him.
"Recent reports indicate crops and livestock being devoured in farms and fields. We're counting on you to handle it."
"Useless bastards, can't even send their own sons. At least I won't have to see Belkman's dead-fish face at the palace."
Dismounting, he ventured into the forest in search of his targets.
After a while, he spotted a pack of enormous wolves gnawing on something.
They were too large to be ordinary wolves, with small horns protruding from their heads.
Jason swiftly drew his sword and lunged, cutting through them like butter.
This might've seemed easy, but monsters were far faster, more agile, and stronger than humans. Jason, however, was stronger than the average knight—a master swordsman, in fact.
"Let's see if there's anything good."
As usual when hunting or exterminating monsters, some turned to dust upon death, while others didn't. Those that remained could be harvested for valuable parts.
A lucrative business.
But he found nothing of worth.
Then he noticed something odd in the distance. Approaching, he found an overturned carriage.
Lifting it to check for valuables, he made a surprising discovery.
"A kid?"
Beneath the carriage, covered in dirt and grime, was a small boy.
Jason checked for a pulse.
"Still alive, but weak."
"Finding carriages here isn't rare, but this area's known for monsters and bandits. They were probably fleeing or heading home."
He pondered what to do with the boy.
"I can't leave him here. I'm not heartless enough to abandon a dying child."
"Where are his parents?"
A thought struck him.
He approached what the monsters had been chewing and grimaced.
What were likely the boy's parents were now just bones.
Sighing, he picked up the child.
"Don't misunderstand. I'm not a good person."
◇◇◇
Count Belkman was so shocked his hair stood on end.
"What in blazes is this!?"
"A child. Found him collapsed where I was hunting monsters."
"Have you lost your mind!?"
"No."
Jason's return with the boy threw the palace into an uproar.
"Get rid of him. He could be a kingdom spy."
"He's just a small boy. Probably doesn't even know his own name. How could he be a spy?"
"One never knows. And it'd be cruel. My policy is never to kill women or children."
"Hahaha."
The count burst into laughter, and Jason shot him a glare.
Startled, the count recomposed himself.
"Since his parents died, I brought him to work at the palace. We always need extra hands."
"Looking at it that way, he might be a valuable asset to the principality."
His bony, pale finger pointed accusingly.
"Let me make this clear: that brat is your responsibility. If anything happens, you—and only you—will answer for it."
"...Understood."
Count Belkman glared disdainfully at Jason and muttered under his breath,
"Acting all high and mighty like some noble knight when you're just a hypocrite."
Away from him, Jason had the maids clean and dress the boy.
Night fell as the boy began to stir.
Jason, dozing in a chair, woke at the sound of movement.
The boy had blue hair and blue eyes—a rarity in this country.
Jason noted it but paid it no mind.
Dragging his chair closer, he offered some cold soup.
"I have questions, and I need answers. First: can you understand me?"
The language barrier was the same, but he might've been a foreigner.
The boy nodded, and Jason continued.
"Good. Who are you? Where are you from? Do you know where we are?"
The boy scratched his head and shook it.
"This is the Principality of Blanchette. Do you remember how you got here?"
Another head shake.
Jason sighed. The boy likely had amnesia.
(He seems confused. Besides, a child can't be a spy if he can't even speak.)
(This'll be problematic if he can't talk.)
"I'll be blunt, kid. Your parents are dead. You're the only survivor. My condolences."
The boy stayed silent. Hearing about his parents' death should've been traumatic, yet he remained calm.
Seeing his lack of reaction, Jason said:
"Listen, kid. You've got two options."
"I can take you to relatives, or you can stay at the palace as a servant."
"Which'll it be?"
"I don't understand what you're saying."
The boy finally spoke. One less problem for Jason.
"Remember anything now?"
"No. And I've no idea how I got here."
"Welp, that rules out the first option. From now on, you'll work here as a commoner servant."
"Follow me. I want to test something."
They headed to a restricted-access room—the magical tools storage.
No fantasy world would be complete without one.
"I'm curious why those wolves didn't eat you. Flipping a carriage that size shouldn't be hard for them."
"Put your hand here."
"What is it?"
"A magic gauge. It'll measure your mana capacity."
The device resembled a toolbox with a large orb and a hand placement area.
The boy placed his hand on it, and after a moment, an intense blue light erupted from the orb.
Magic power measurement was simple:
Gray: Low or negligible magic power.
Red: High magic power.
Blue: Extraordinary magic power.
Jason was stunned.
(So that's why the monsters avoided him. The mana he emits is stronger than average—terrifying to them.)
"Impressive, kid. You've got the makings of a great mage. But I don't want you becoming one, so let's test this."
Next, they went to the training grounds.
Jason handed him a wooden sword after taking one himself.
"Strike me with your best shot. I'll block it—just testing your strength."
The boy hesitated but obeyed.
His swings were clumsy at first, but after a while, Jason disarmed him.
"Alright, evaluation time."
"Honestly? You stink. But you're a kid, so that's expected."
"Your posture's good, though. Lifting this would normally require at least ten years of age, so you've got potential."
"And with your insane mana reserves... Right, I've decided."
"I'll give you a new option: become my son."
"...!"
The boy was floored.
"If you become my son, you won't just be a knight—you'll be a noble. Citizenship, land, even a house to inherit."
"Of course, I'll only teach you swordsmanship. I know nothing about magic—no talent for it. But a magic swordsman is the rarest asset any nation could want."
"What do you say, kid?"
The boy stared intently.
"Does that mean I'll have a roof over my head?"
"Yep. Plus a bath and three meals a day."
"Then I accept."
"Good answer."
Jason clapped as if rewarding a dog for a trick.
Then he paused, remembering the most crucial part.
"Almost forgot. What's your name?"
"..."
"Don't remember that either?"
"No."
"Hmm, severe case. If you don't mind, I'll name you."
The boy nodded eagerly.
"Alright, a name... a good name..."
A memory flashed through his mind.
"Rex... Alex."
"How about 'Alex'?"
"Alex. I like it."
The boy nodded, and Jason patted his head.
"Good boy."
"Now my turn."
"I'm the head knight of the Principality of Blanchette. Viscount Jason Arlen Leone."
"Ja...son...?"
"Yeah. What's wrong?"
Jason watched as the boy's smile twisted into horror—as if he'd heard something terrifying.
Suddenly, the boy clutched his head and screamed.
"My head hurts!"
"You okay?"
Jason stared as the boy writhed on the ground.
Then, in a flash, the boy stood up—and punched Jason square in the jaw.
As Jason fell, the boy touched his own cheeks in horror and uttered words unbefitting a child.
"No way... I actually reincarnated into that otome game world?!"
"Not only did I become a background character, but I got adopted by the main antagonist of the first story arc?!"
"The Ashen Knight?!"
"Who're you calling 'Ashen Knight'?! And don't scare me like that!"
Jason smacked the newly christened Alex on the head.
A former Japanese man now found himself in this otome game world.
Despite this unexpected twist, the story remained unchanged.