Rick gazed at the unfamiliar visage reflected before him. He still found it hard to fathom the reality of his situation. He had transmigrated—an actual fricking Isekai!
It was the epitome of dreams realized. He had inherited a wealth of memories, and, fittingly, he found himself cast in the archetypal role of a hero.
He had been thrust into the body of the young Irik Albrecht, a frail boy lacking a penchant for either the arcane arts or martial prowess—check. His timidity rendered him a source of disappointment—check. He was even on the cusp of undergoing the pivotal Affinity Test.
Irick 'Rick' Albrecht was the progeny of the Albrecht barony, a lineage that had once commanded the respect of a mighty dukedom. The Albrechts were renowned for their forthrightness, benevolence, and nobility.
They were The Nobles of Nobles. The Albrechts reminded people of why the class was named as such, striving to set an example and be a beacon of what nobles were.
The Brightness of Nobility—a name steeped in irony—was, paradoxically, the very cause of their decline. How could knights clad in shining armor endure the treachery of the court, a veritable nest of vipers?
How could the nobles, egoistical as they were, ever stand a lineage that shoved a mirror in their face and showed them just hoe flawed they were. All nobles wanted to be them, but also hated them because they were a living example of every place in which they were lacking.
Eventually even the king, their staunchest of supporters felt the sting of their brightness, making them an eyesore. And so, their power was chiseled away by means overt and covert over the decades until they were relegated to the borders. A hollow shell of what they once were.
Rick was excited. Everything seemed to be a stage set for him. He was just a simple Junior Analyst at a cyber-security firm. It was finally his time to shine.
The knock resounded on the door, echoing around the room like a knell snapping him out of his delusions of grandeur.
"Who is it? " His slightly deep voice rang out. Today was, after all, the day Irik turned 18.
"Its me Young master." A calm cool voice answered.
It was Mira, his attendant. It was tradition, for noble children to be assigned one. They were their handlers, minders, confidants and basically were the right hands of every noble. Their presence represented their masters.
They were usually the best of talents among the commoners, trained and molded form a young age. They were essentially considered half noble. Even the King had one.
"Oh come on in Mira." Irik replied off-handedly.
His excitement had visibly cooled down. Just because he had Isekai'd didn't mean that everything was going to be hunky dory. He didn't want to be caught and dissected for being an oddity. And so the first part of his adventure was to convince everyone he was who he said he was.
And the hardest obstacle in that regard was not his siblings, not his parents, but it was the one who knew Irik best, the one who spent the most time out of everyone with him.
It was this tall, smoking hot bespectacled maid in front of him. She seemed to be of Oriental origin, a model straight from a wet dream.
She had the body of a succubus that clung tightly to her body showing off her assets. That, she had plenty of She was well-endowed in all the right places. Tall, but not overbearingly so. Seductive, but in a way that made you feel bad for having such thoughts.
She was a beauty alright. Mira was only 20, but she gave of a mature, sensual vibe that would have gotten many thrown in jail on earth for harassment. Well, after she sent them to the ER that is.
Her black her trailed behind her back and framed the sweet face hiding the visage of a trained killer. Her purpose, after all, was to take care of her master in any way deemed necessary by the master, and so they were often the final line of defense.
For example, the premiere attended, The Shadow Of The King, was the strongest Dual Path practitioner of the Kingdom and the Guardian of the Capital. He was responsible for protecting the Capital if the kingdom were to ever face an attack.
As for the King? Well, the Capital was wherever the King was. According to tradition that is.
"Young Master? Master?" Mira called out as Irik was slightly dazed. Sure he came from the information age and was mostly inoculated against beauty attacks but Mira was a total femme fatale.
"This," he mumbled under his breath, "Might turn out to be a problem right?"
"What was that Young Master? I didn't quite catch it." Mira earnestly asked. Her eager expression as she leaned over exposing some of her buxom bosom made Irik's nose heat up.
'Yeah,' he thought, 'definitely gonna be a problem.'
He closed his eyes, pinched his nose and sighed in resignation.
"Lets get ready first." He said, letting his body operate on autopilot as he focused on something more important.
The short interaction with Mira had already illuminated him on a couple of very important matters. For one he had realized that although he had the memories, they were not his, and didn't affect him as a person.
A person's memories were a huge part of themselves. Their sense of self, why they acted the way they did, from fear to anxiety to pain, all of the feelings created responses that made a person who they
Basically they were lie a search engine. He had the internet in his hands, but it was mostly text and he had to invest more processing power for pictures, and it didn't make him suddenly an amalgamation of both Iriks.
It honestly was a bit of a pain in the ass. He sighed, shook his head and brought himself back to the present… He had bigger fish to fry. For example,
"Ummm Mira, I understand stripping me to change but why are you naked as well?"