"Mother!" Eitan's eyes flew open, salty tears streaming down his cheeks. It felt as if this overwhelming sorrow was embedded in every bone of his body. However, this sensation lasted for naught more than a fleeting moment as he snapped back to reality. What? What happened? How am I alive? His hands flew to his chest to find no wound. Impossible, I'm certain that asshole stabbed me straight in the heart. Wait— I have both arms! This fact was processed belatedly as he realized both limbs moved to his will. What's going on? How is this possible? He frantically attempted to get to his feet, only to smack his head on something hard. The ground beneath his feet was not solid, so this impact, combined with his agitation, caused him to tumble.
He fell about a foot down, apparently having been on something elevated. There was a loud thud with a corresponding curse. "Shit!" He struggled upright, only now becoming aware of the intense weakness that pervaded his entire body. Many places were also aching quite badly, but he ignored all of these sensations. Right, even though I'm somehow alive in one piece, of course, my body paid a heavy price. As he thought this with a mixture of relief and belligerence, he finally managed to sit up and take in his surroundings. He was currently inside a rather opulent bedroom, sitting just in front of a grand bed, which was the culprit of his fall.
The more he looked, the stranger he felt. This place, why is it so familiar to— uh! His gaze caught on a full-body mirror not far away from where he was seated. Long, shining raven black hair. Magenta eyes that leaned towards the color of blood, like the color of amaranths. A small frame accompanied by a rather pretty face. One that he recognized quite well. This is… me? When I was younger!
Eitan scrambled over to the mirror, touching himself in every which way as the reflection copied his actions. "Ahaha…" He let out a disbelieving laugh. Right, this must be some kind of illusion. Something Duke Logress put me into to make my final moments all the more miserable. Even though he had noticed no traces of any such magic, what else could it possibly be?
However, one incongruity caught his eye. The pendant he wore every day without fail hung eye-catching over worn white robes. The typically gleaming blue gem in the center held none of its usual luster. Instead, it was littered with cracks spreading in every direction. This was the only possession he truly treasured in life, and never had he let it come to harm. After all, it was the only thing he had that belonged to his mother. Even if he had never met the woman, there was a corner of his heart that refused to sever this single strand of connection.
No way. Eitan hurriedly unclasped it from his neck and examined it closely. It did not appear to have been shattered by some external force, but rather from within. If he could not even tell this much, then all his years of mercenary work would have been in vain. Could it be…? He looked around dazedly.
Nothing in his environment or current state hinted at any kind of illusion. That kind of magic always followed a rule. Every illusion was based around a core, a place where the mage's mana would congregate and feed the magic. No matter his condition, with his eyes, it was highly improbable for him to be unable to spot such a thing.
I need to check if this is really possible. Eitan sprang to his feet, or at least attempted to. A wave of dizziness overtook him, forcing him to lean on the wall for support. Fuck, this actually does feel like my shitty body from the past. He still made his way over to the door and shoved it open.
This motion revealed a man mid-yawn who had been standing just outside the door. His dirty-blond hair was pulled neatly into a short ponytail. "Ah-?" The man's lax, green eyes widened with shock as he spotted Eitan. "Young Master Eitan, you got up?" He was dressed as a servant and addressed Eitan respectfully, but his demeanor denoted nothing of the like. He acted entirely casually, not in a friendly manner but rather in disregard for the supposed young master in front of him.
"Lind," Eitan recalled the name of the disrespectful servant in front of him. His eyes narrowed as he grabbed his collar urgently. "Tell me today's date."
Caught so off guard by the sudden aggression, Lind wasn't able to fight back despite his larger build. "I-it is the sixth day of the fourth month."
"Year! Tell me the damn year!" Eitan roared at the stuttering servant.
Lind gulped, taken aback by the force of the voice that came from such a delicate body. "It is the eight hundred ninety-third year of the imperial calendar!"
Eitan released the trembling Lind from his grip, pushing him away as he stumbled back. "Get me a pitcher of water. Now!"
"Yes, yes, Young Master." Lind quickly scampered off, wondering if the coma-inducing beating had somehow jogged the brains of the usually meek third young master.
Eitan managed to stay upright until Lind was gone, but immediately gripped the door for support once he was out of sight. Am I really… back to the past? All these sensations and details were far too real for it to be some kind of mental trick. He dragged his ailing body back into the room to once again stand before the mirror. Loosened bandages hung from his arms and fell from the open robe on his torso. He remembered this time. How could he not? This was the year his life took a nosedive into hell.
His second-oldest half-brother, Callen Reidar, had beaten him to a pulp under the guise of a duel. This was not a rare occurrence, but this time, Eitan had thoroughly angered him. During a banquet, the woman Callen had eyes on took a liking to Eitan due to his elegant appearance. So, to impress her, Callen threw a glove to initiate a duel. The currently weak Eitan fell victim to his senseless outrage and was in a coma for nearly three days. This was the beginning of his fall.
Due to having publicly shamed the family, his father, Count Everade Reidar, ordered Eitan to be sent away to a remote fief at the border of their territory as punishment. Officially, he was to be enshrined as lord and manage the territory, but any noble with a hint of awareness knew it was nothing more than exile.
So, despite his frailty, Eitan had gone to face the dangers of the border. But before he could even make it to his new land, assassins had attacked the carriage he was traveling in. He managed to survive due to the sacrifice of a knight and made it back to the count's estate. There, he pleaded for his father's mercy. It was granted, but for the next many years, Eitan lived as no more than a fly on the wall, there for his brother to toy with as he pleased.
It was during this time of suffering that a territorial war with the neighboring Ormund County began. Eitan was pushed to the front lines in the name of making contributions for his family, staying alive by only a hair's breadth time and time again. This was his first experience on the battlefield. He lost just as many friends as he made as the chaotic and blood-drenched days flew by.
The Reidar family lost. Their assets and territory were seized, and Eitan's family members were executed. He had only managed to escape a similar fate by giving some unguarded soldiers the slip in the dead of night. It was then that his life as a mercenary began. He changed his name to Elron, taking any job that came his way in hopes of eventually amassing enough power for revenge. Even if he harbored no great affection for his family, the spirit of the Reidars ran through his veins. A Reidar never backed down from a battle. He eventually uncovered the fact that it had all been a scheme by Duke Logress, who had his eyes on a mana stone mine that had recently been unearthed. Just for that! Just for some measly profit, Eitan's entire world was ripped apart. The moment he learnt of the truth, he vowed not to let the grudge go unsettled. Despite not being able to use aura, he grew enough to be revered by many as the Mercenary King. He gathered like-minded comrades under his banner and went off in pursuit of revenge.
That was how his life ended. Eitan clenched his fists, and indescribable bloodlust began emanating from every aspect of his being. Duke Logress… This time, I swear I will end you.
A sudden shattering sound forced Eitan out of his thoughts. He turned his head to see Lind on the floor of the doorway, water and glass shards spilled around him. "Young- young- M- master?" He shook with fear as he lay sprawled on the ground. Why— what was that terrifying feeling?!
Even the elite knights of Duke Logress couldn't help but tremble when faced with Eitan's bloodlust, so it was obvious that a mere servant was unable to handle it, even if only facing it indirectly. Under Eitan's piercing gaze, Lind pulled himself together almost impressively quickly. "I'll clean this up immediately!" He hurriedly dealt with the mess before scurrying back out of the room.
Eitan let out a long exhale and couldn't even be bothered to close the door after him. He merely went and sat in a nearby chair, rubbing his throbbing head. One step at a time. Soon, I will be sent to the border. It definitely wasn't impossible to get out of this predicament. If he managed to somehow prove himself to the count, the punishment would more than likely be altered to something significantly lighter. But was that the best way of going about this?
He deliberated carefully. Remaining at the estate would undoubtedly be the easier option, especially for the short term, but it would cause him to be greatly restricted as well. His great changes would not go easily unnoticed by the family, especially his father. Even if it would still be doable, his many years as a wild mercenary caused him to greatly dread the stifling life this would bring. In addition, having his day-to-day life so closely watched would hinder his growth as well. So, emotionally or practically, this route didn't have many advantages aside from being simpler.
The other option was to be obediently exiled and face the dangers head-on. First would be to deal with the assassins, and then the unknown strife that would come from managing a territory. A border area, no less. The Reidar County shared a border with the wildlands, a place largely inhabited by outlaws who fled the kingdom and various barbarian tribes. As the lord of such a place, his path would no doubt be a thorny one.
It's decided. I'll go to the border. Eitan didn't think much of it. To him, it was a natural choice. Rather than being locked up in the estate until the war, he could make much freer use of his future knowledge while unhindered by the chains of his family. Optimistically speaking, he could even try to grow his fief into a force to be utilized against the duke.
"I got— I have returned with some water, Young Master." Lind lingered in the doorway cautiously, even speaking more politely now. He appeared to have been thoroughly frightened by Eitan's display. "I also brought some medicine."
Eitan wordlessly gestured for Lind to place the tray on the table. Lind did so while giving Eitan a measured glance. "I will go report to the count that you're awake. I'll bring some porridge after."
Eitan pursed his lips slightly as the image of a certain man surfaced in his mind. Coarse black hair with red eyes, slightly aged but well-built and still brimming with vitality. Father… He turned his head away. "Get out of here, then."
"Yes!" Lind didn't need to be told twice and went off, this time having the presence of mind to close the door behind him.
Eitan looked down at the water pitcher and a small pile of powder beside it. He eyed it carefully before sniffing it. There's no poison. After spending so many years around people more than happy to separate his head from his body, one was bound to develop a few paranoid habits. Truthfully, for all his efforts, his previous life often felt like he was toeing a tightrope between life and death. Brushing off the weights of the past, he drank some water and took the medicine. It was horribly bitter, but he showed no revulsion, merely focusing on the effects it would bring.
It didn't take long for the throbbing pain in his head and body to wane. He undid his robe and unravelled the bandages on his body before standing in front of the mirror. It was time to properly evaluate the situation he had been thrown into.