"Back then, I was a teenager, only sixteen years old—newly chosen to be a personal servant like you. At that time…"
***
A man was lost in a long corridor, circling the same stretch over and over again. There were no clues—only a vague direction toward a room on the second floor. That man was me—Razoru. A teenager already burdened with strands of gray hair.
I looked around, but there was no access to the second floor. I had seen the staircase earlier—the stairs that led upward. I had followed a male servant who guided me through the place, including a room with a large door—where the sound of wooden swords clashing echoed endlessly. However, after I left that room of those who adored violence, the servant who had been guiding me disappeared without a word.
And now, I was lost. Not knowing which way to go.
Before the tour began, the Duke had told me to return quickly to the original spot—because he would introduce me to his son, who would become my "Master."
