Mikail stepped out of his bedchamber and immediately stopped.
The hallway beyond was alive with activity. Servants moved with practiced efficiency, carrying linens and breakfast trays and polished silverware. Maids dusted portraits and adjusted flower arrangements. Footmen stood at attention near doorways, ready to assist at a moment's notice. The castle, which had felt so empty and still in the early morning light, now bustled with the energy of dozens of people going about their daily work.
It was strange seeing it like this. When he had played Infinity Online, the castle staff had existed as window dressing. Generic NPCs with no personalities, no voices, no individuality. They had been there to make the castle feel lived in, nothing more.
But now they were real. Every single one of them.
A man stood beside his door, hands clasped behind his back in a posture of patient waiting. He was perhaps thirty years old, with graying hair pulled back neatly and sharp eyes that missed nothing. He wore the formal attire of a head steward, all dark fabric and silver buttons, and carried himself with the quiet authority of someone who ran a household with absolute competence.
Mikail recognized him instantly. Teach. The head steward of Silvermont Castle.
The moment Mikail emerged, Teach bowed deeply. "Good morning, Master Reinhauer. I trust you slept well?"
The voice was warm, respectful, and utterly real. Not the flat tone of a scripted NPC, but the genuine warmth of a person addressing someone they served.
"I did," Mikail replied, still adjusting to the strangeness of this interaction. "Thank you, Teach."
"Breakfast has been prepared in the dining hall, and the maids are drawing your bath as we speak." Teach straightened from his bow and gestured down the hallway. "If you would permit me to escort you, Master?"
"Of course."
They walked together through the castle's corridors, and Mikail found himself watching the staff they passed. Maids carrying fresh linens paused to curtsy, murmuring, "Good morning, Master Reinhauer." Footmen bowed. A young woman polishing a suit of armor actually smiled at him before quickly returning her attention to her work.
But what struck him most was not the deference. It was the happiness.
Every face he saw looked content. The maids chatted quietly with each other as they worked. The footmen stood relaxed rather than rigid. Even the kitchen staff he glimpsed through an open doorway seemed cheerful, laughing about something as they prepared food.
He knew why. He had programmed it, after all.
When he had acquired Silvermont Castle in the game, it had come with staff positions that needed filling. Most players just hired generic servants and paid them the minimum required to keep them from leaving. But Mikail had done something different. He had paid his staff exceptionally well. A common maid in his employ earned as much as an administrative official in a king's court. His kitchen staff made more than some nobles.
It had been an absurd expense with no real gameplay benefit. But Damien had liked the idea of creating a place where people were genuinely happy to work, even if those people were just lines of code.
Now those lines of code had faces. Lives. Feelings.
'They are real,' he thought, watching a young maid hum softly as she arranged flowers in a vase. 'All of them. Every person in this castle is actually alive.'
The weight of that realization settled over him, but before he could dwell on it, they arrived at the dining hall.
The room was magnificent. High ceilings with exposed wooden beams. Tall windows that let in streams of morning sunlight. A long table made of dark wood that could easily seat thirty people. But this morning, only one place was set, at the head of the table where Mikail always sat when dining alone.
Except calling it "set" was an understatement.
The table was covered in food. Platters of roasted meat, both familiar and exotic. Baskets of fresh bread, still steaming. Bowls of fruit in colors he had never seen outside of fantasy art. Cheese wheels and butter dishes and jam pots. Pitchers of juice and wine and what looked like spiced milk. Eggs prepared in at least four different ways. Sausages and bacon. Pastries dusted with sugar. Grilled fish with herbs. Vegetable dishes he could not even name.
It was a buffet fit for royalty. More food than one person could possibly eat in a single sitting.
Mikail stood there, staring at the spread, and had no idea where to even begin.
"Please, Master Reinhauer, sit," Teach said, pulling out the chair at the head of the table. "The kitchen staff prepared your favorites. If anything is not to your liking, I can have it replaced immediately."
Mikail sat, still somewhat overwhelmed by the sheer variety before him. He reached for a plate and started loading it with what looked appealing. Roasted meat that smelled incredible. Fresh bread with butter. Some of the exotic fruit. A few pastries that caught his eye.
The first bite of meat nearly made him groan. It was perfect. Tender, flavorful, seasoned with spices that danced across his tongue. The bread was warm and soft, the butter rich. The fruit was sweet and refreshing.
He had not realized how hungry he was until he started eating. Despite the overwhelming size of his new body and the power it contained, his appetite was very human. He ate with genuine enthusiasm, trying different dishes, savoring flavors that were far more complex than anything full dive technology should have been able to simulate.
Teach stood nearby, watching with quiet satisfaction. Behind him, a few maids and kitchen staff peeked through the doorway, their faces lighting up as they saw Mikail enjoying the meal.
'They are happy because I am happy,' he realized. 'They take pride in their work, in serving well. Because I gave them reason to.'
It was a strange feeling, knowing that his decisions as a player had created this environment. That the excessive wages he had paid, the upgrades he had made to the staff quarters, the little touches of care he had programmed in, had resulted in a castle full of people who genuinely seemed to love their work.
As he ate, his mind began to turn toward more practical matters. He was in the Silvermont Domain, his primary territory. And if he was going to visit his fourteen towers, it made sense to start with the closest one.
The Silvermont Tower.
His first tower. The first guardian he had recruited. And one of his seven chosen companions.
Aelia Sylfeldt.
The memory of her backstory came back to him clearly. She had been an elf princess, one of the high born daughters of the Sylvan Court. Beautiful, powerful, gifted with magic that put most mages to shame. But her people had chosen to betroth her to Yggdrasil, the World Tree, an ancient entity of immense power that demanded a bride every century to renew its covenant with the elven race.
Aelia had not wanted to marry a tree, no matter how ancient or powerful it was.
Mikail had encountered her purely by accident during one of his early explorations. She had been fleeing from her guards, desperate to escape the wedding ceremony. He had helped her, more out of curiosity than anything else, using his overpowered abilities to dispatch the pursuing elves with embarrassing ease.
He had not programmed any of what happened next. The game's AI had taken over, generating a quest chain he had never anticipated. Aelia had pledged herself to him, swearing an oath of service that bound her fate to his. Elves loyal to her had followed, abandoning their positions in the Sylvan Court to serve the princess who had defied tradition.
He had built the Silvermont Tower for her, a magnificent structure that rose from the heart of his domain. She had taken up residence there with her followers, becoming the first and strongest of his guardians.
Over time, she had grown even more powerful. She had evolved from a high elf into something even greater, and had earned one of the rarest titles in the game: Oracle. Few beings in Infinity Online could claim that designation. It marked her as someone who stood just below the Cardinals in terms of raw power.
She was called the White Calamity. The Winter's Wrath. Her magic could freeze entire armies, turn battlefields into frozen wastelands. She was beautiful and terrifying in equal measure.
And she was sworn to serve him.
'My first companion,' Mikail thought, finishing a particularly good pastry. 'The first of the seven. It only makes sense to start with her.'
But there was a complication. One he had forgotten about until this moment.
Yggdrasil's Avatar.
The World Tree did not take rejection well. When Aelia had fled her wedding, the entity had created an Avatar to hunt her down. A powerful being that embodied the tree's wrath and could act independently in the world. That Avatar hated Aelia with a passion that bordered on obsessive, and by extension, it hated anyone associated with her.
Which meant it hated Mikail Reinhauer.
'Right,' he thought, reaching for a glass of juice. 'I have an ancient tree deity that wants me dead. That is a problem I made for myself and then completely forgot about.'
The Avatar was strong. Not Cardinal level, but close. It could be a genuine hassle if it decided to cause trouble. But that was a concern for later. First, he needed to visit Aelia and see what had become of her in this new reality.
Mikail finished his meal, noting that he had barely made a dent in the available food despite eating until he was genuinely full. The kitchen staff would probably be pleased that he had enjoyed it, even if most of the buffet remained untouched.
He stood, and Teach was immediately at his side. "I trust everything was satisfactory, Master?"
"It was excellent. Please thank the kitchen staff for me."
"Of course. Will you be retiring to your bath now?"
"Yes. After that, I will be leaving for a while."
Teach's expression flickered with something that might have been concern. "Leaving, Master? May I ask where you are headed?"
"The Silvermont Tower. I need to check on something."
"I see. Shall I arrange a carriage? The tower is some distance from the castle."
Mikail smiled. "No need, Teach. I have everything I require."
The bath was luxurious, exactly as he had designed it. A large pool of heated water in a room made of polished marble, with enchantments to maintain the perfect temperature and keep the water perpetually clean. He soaked for a while, letting the warmth seep into muscles that technically did not need rest but appreciated it anyway.
When he emerged, fresh clothes waited for him. Regal attire befitting someone of his station. Black and silver, with subtle embroidery that caught the light. A long coat that fell to his knees, tailored perfectly to his frame. Boots made of some leather that was probably from a monster he had killed. A belt with a buckle that bore his personal crest.
He looked at himself in the mirror and had to admit the effect was striking. Tall, powerful, dressed like nobility or perhaps royalty. His violet eyes glowed against the dark colors of his outfit, and his windswept black hair completed the image of someone who was dangerous and beautiful in equal measure.
'Damien would never have imagined looking like this,' he thought. 'But Mikail was always meant to be impressive.'
He made his way back through the castle, and once again the staff paused to acknowledge him. But this time, as he approached the main entrance, several of them gathered. Maids and footmen and even some of the kitchen staff. Teach stood at the front, his expression professionally neutral but his eyes showing genuine concern.
"Master Reinhauer," one of the younger maids said, her voice hesitant. "Will you be returning soon?"
Mikail looked at their faces and saw something he had not expected. Worry. These people, who had been strangers this morning, were concerned about him leaving.
He smiled, keeping his tone warm. "Do not worry. I will return soon. I simply have business to attend to."
"Where are you going, Master?" another asked.
"The Silvermont Tower. It is not far."
Teach stepped forward. "Master, if I may, shall I arrange an escort? The roads can be dangerous, and even someone of your abilities—"
"Teach," Mikail interrupted gently. "I appreciate the concern, truly. But I do not need a carriage or an escort. I have everything I need."
The head steward bowed, accepting the decision even if he did not entirely agree with it. "Of course, Master. We will await your return."
Mikail walked out into the courtyard in front of the castle. It was a large open space, paved with stone and surrounded by walls. The morning sun was higher now, warming the air and making the castle's towers cast long shadows.
He stood there for a moment, considering what he was about to do.
In Infinity Online, he had a skill called Beast Mastery. It allowed him to tame creatures and summon them when needed. Over the course of his gameplay, he had collected dozens of powerful beasts. Each one required significant effort to defeat and then tame, but the results were worth it.
Among them all, there was one that stood out. The last beast he had added to his collection, and the one that had proven the most difficult to acquire.
It had taken him four days of real time gameplay to finally capture it. In game time, that translated to nearly a month of constant effort. Tracking it across multiple regions. Fighting it repeatedly. Learning its patterns. Earning its respect.
The White Dragon.
Dragons in Infinity Online came in many varieties. Red, black, blue, green, gold, each with their own strengths and elemental affinities. But white dragons were special. They were considered the apex of dragonkind, the absolute peak of what a dragon could be. Fewer than ten existed in the entire game world, and they were nearly impossible to find, let alone defeat.
The White Dragon he had tamed was known as the Queen of Dragons. A title that was not just ceremonial but a statement of fact. She was the strongest dragon in existence, and her power was legendary.
He had never actually summoned her before. The process had required so much effort that by the time he finally tamed her, he was already overpowered enough that he did not need the help. She had remained in his beast collection, a trophy more than a practical tool.
But now seemed like the perfect time to see if the skill still worked.
'Alright,' Mikail thought, focusing inward. 'If this world is real, then the skills should function the same way. I just need to concentrate on the ability and activate it.'
He closed his eyes and reached for the skill. Beast Summon. He could feel it there, sitting in his mind like a tool waiting to be used. He grasped it mentally and pulled.
Power surged through him, and his eyes snapped open.
A magic circle materialized in the air above the courtyard. It was massive, easily fifty feet across, drawn in lines of brilliant white light that burned against the blue sky. Geometric patterns interlocked and rotated, ancient runes flickering at the edges. The air itself seemed to hum with energy, vibrating at a frequency that made his bones ache.
Behind him, he heard gasps from the castle staff who had followed him out. Some of them stumbled back. Others stood frozen, staring at the circle in awe and terror.
Mikail raised his hand and spoke the name of the beast he wanted to summon.
"Come forth. White Dragon."
For a heartbeat, nothing happened. The magic circle hung in the air, pulsing with power but producing no result.
Then the world shook.
A roar split the sky. Not a sound, but a force that rippled through reality itself. It was primal, ancient, the voice of something that had existed since the dawn of time and would continue to exist long after everything else had turned to dust.
The magic circle exploded with light, and from within that light, something emerged.
She was enormous. Easily a hundred feet from nose to tail, with a wingspan that seemed to block out the sun. Her scales were pure white, gleaming like fresh snow in sunlight, each one the size of a shield. Her body was sleek and powerful, all muscle and grace despite her massive size. Four legs ending in claws that could tear through steel. A long neck that curved elegantly. A head with intelligent eyes and rows of teeth like swords.
The White Dragon descended from the magic circle and landed in the courtyard with an impact that cracked the stone beneath her feet. Her wings folded against her sides, and she lowered her head to bring her face level with Mikail.
Behind him, chaos erupted.
Several of the maids screamed. Footmen drew weapons that would be utterly useless against something like this. Some of the staff simply fainted, collapsing where they stood. Even Teach, who had maintained his composure through everything, had gone pale and taken several steps back.
Mikail himself felt a spike of fear. Intellectually, he knew the dragon would not harm him. She was bound by the taming system, sworn to obey his commands. But standing here, face to face with a creature of such overwhelming presence, instinct screamed at him to run.
The dragon's eyes, each one as large as his head, focused on him with an intelligence that was unmistakably sentient. She studied him for a long moment, and Mikail got the distinct impression he was being evaluated.
Then he heard it.
A voice. Youthful and feminine, speaking directly into his mind with a clarity that bypassed his ears entirely.
'Master. You have returned.'