The room was quiet after breakfast, too quiet. My gaze drifted toward the shelves lining the walls.
Most of the books were coated in a thick layer of dust, untouched for years. It seemed that the previous Darian wasn't too keen on reading them.
'Why have towers of books in your room if you're not gonna read it ?' I thought.
I let my fingers trail across the spines, reading the titles as they passed under my hand.
"The Legendary Hero Who Defeated the Demon King."
"Origins of Dragons."
"Mana Blades: Types and Forms."
I stopped.
Demon King?
Dragons?
Such things belonged in fairytale stories told to children, not written in bold ink in books sitting casually on a noble's shelf.
What makes it far more interesting is that these books dont seem to be fiction. Their titles seem to be more historical and factual than fictional.
I slid "Origins of Dragons" from the shelf and let it fall open in my hands. The pages were yellowed but firm, the ink still sharp despite their age.
'Dragons are not born; they awaken.'
I blinked.
Awaken?
I read on.
'A dragon's soul slumbers within a mana-dense embryo buried deep within the earth, sea and other places unknown. Only when conditions reach a specific threshold,..mana saturation, heat, and ambient resonance, does the creature stir into existence.'
My eyebrows furrowed. This wasn't a children's tale. The writing was clinical, almost academic… like a scholar documenting a natural phenomenon.
I flipped to another chapter.
'Dragons posses powers of mass destruction. There are only two recording of dragons awakening, both sightings in which took millions of life's'.
This world wasn't playing around.
I exhaled slowly, letting the weight of it settle in. If I wanted to survive here, I needed more knowledge.
I continued reading, absorbing as much information as I could when suddenly a knock sounded at the door.
The sound was soft but sharp in the quiet room. I instinctively stayed silent.
I closed the book and placed it on the table.
Who is at the door and what do they want?
And more importantly...what do they expect from Darian?
I cleared my throat and straightened a little, and forced my voice not to waver.
"... Come in."
The door creaked open, and an older man stepped inside.
Late forties, maybe early fifties.
Grey was the colour of his hair. His uniform was neat, pressed, with the quiet dignity of someone who served a household for decades.
He bowed. Not deeply, but with a restrained politeness. I could tell he didn't respect me, but respected the position.
"Lord Darian," he said, voice low and steady. "Forgive the intrusion."
I nodded stiffly, trying to mimic the expression a noble might wear. "What is it?"
The man clasped his hands behind his back, a faint tension in his shoulders.
"A noble visitor has arrived," he said. "Unexpectedly."
My stomach tightened.
A visitor?
The servant continued, his tone sharpened by urgency.
"The Duke is still out of the handling the matters in the eastern borders of the empire. Your older brother, Count Edwin is at the academy, and your sister, Countess Liliana is currently attending her lessons and… shall not be disturbed."
His slight pause hinted the fact that Liliana doesn't like being interrupted.
"So," the servant concluded, "the responsibility of greeting our guest falls to you, my lord."
"…To me?"
Of course it did.
Everyone else was away or unavailable.
Someone had to represent House Redmond.
And the only one left was me.
I felt my throat tighten.
The real Darian probably hid from duties. Complained, Panicked or even embarrassed the house.
But I wasn't him.
Even if I barely understood this world, even if my place in this family was shaky and my understanding worse… as a samurai that once faced armies shouldn't tremble at greeting one noble.
Still, I had to keep my voice even.
"…Who is the visitor?" I asked.
The older servant hesitated for the first time, his eyes flicking toward the floor.
Whatever expression he wore wasn't fear—but it was close.
"Lord Thaloran of House Vallis," he said.
I had no idea who that was.
Not a single clue.
But the servant's expression told me enough:
This wasn't someone casual.
This wasn't someone we could slight.
This was someone significant.
Someone important.
"When did he arrive?" I asked quietly.
"Just moments ago," the servant replied. "He requests an audience with the Redmond family."
He lowered his voice.
"And he expects it promptly."
…Of course he does.
I exhaled, letting the information settle, then straightened.
"Very well," I said. "Prepare what needs preparing. I'll go meet him."
The servant blinked—surprised.
Maybe the real Darian wouldn't have responded so calmly.
But he bowed again, deeper this time.
"As you command, my lord."
He stepped aside, holding the door open for me.
I took one last glance at the book on dragons before leaving the room.
A world of ancient beasts on one side…
Unexpected nobles on the other.
And somehow, I had to survive both.