Two weeks had already passed since I reincarnated here.
I was training in the castle's practice yard.
I held the sword with both hands.
The training dummy stood in front of me, motionless, waiting.
I took a deep breath and stepped forward.
Zap~~
The first strike was clumsy.
The blade hit the straw dummy sideways, producing a hollow and pathetic sound.
"Poc~~
I tried again.
And again.
Rough blows.
Weak.
Poorly controlled.
The sword trembled in my hands as if it didn't belong to me.
After a few minutes, my arms were already burning.
My breathing was uneven.
That was when a thought appeared.
A thought so intense it almost made me grind my teeth.
The urge to kill.
Not the dummy.
The former owner of this body.
That bastard.
The previous owner of this body was completely useless.
A parasite of the worst kind.
All he did was drink himself to death, rape his own maids, get into stupid fights in taverns, and sleep the rest of the day.
A true leech.
Trash.
Even his younger sister had more composure than he did.
And the younger brother then…
Not even worth mentioning.
But by a cruel stroke of luck…
I was in the body of the eldest.
And, by the rules of nobility, that meant only one thing.
I was the successor of the Drake family.
I lowered the sword slightly and breathed slowly.
That was when I heard voices in the distance.
Probably thinking I couldn't hear them.
— Did you see the young master today?
— I did…
— He changed, don't you think?
— "Changed" is an understatement… it's like he's a different person.
— Do you think he hit his head?
— Shhh! Keep your voice down!
A smile escaped my face.
No one knew.
No one would ever know.
The previous Dylan was dead.
But that didn't matter.
What mattered was the future.
I turned my gaze back to the training dummy.
In a few months I would leave this Drake family territory.
According to this body's memories, there would be a journey.
A convoy of carriages.
Guided by mages.
A long route through hostile territories.
Anything could happen.
I didn't have time.
Even if I tried to reconstruct the technology from my previous world…
That might take centuries.
So first I needed to guarantee something much more basic.
My own survival.
Even if only partially.
I closed my eyes.
Then issued a mental command.
— Analyze my body and based on that analysis translate this data into a basic information panel.
["Beep!"]
["Initiating full biological analysis"]
["Scanning bone structure…"]
["Bone density: below average for age"]
["Microfractures detected in phalanges due to recent impact"]
["Scanning muscular system…"]
["Muscle development: low"]
["Muscle fibers poorly trained"]
["Scanning cardiovascular system…"]
["Blood pressure: 108/67"]
["Heart rate: 92 bpm"]
["Lung capacity: moderate"]
["Scanning blood system…"]
.
.
.
.
.
["Analysis complete!"]
["Status"]
["Name: Dylan Drake"]
["Age: 15 years"]
["Sex: Male"]
["Physical Attributes"]
["Strength: 0.8"]
["Agility: 0.9"]
["Vigor: 0.7"]
After a few minutes staring at the status panel floating in my vision, I sighed.
There wasn't much more to observe there for now.
I mentally closed the panel.
The information disappeared.
I looked again at the training dummy in front of me.
Then I looked at my hands.
I swung the sword once more in the air and then sheathed it.
That's enough for now.
I turned my back on the training field and started walking toward the mansion.
The stone path leading to the main building was quiet at that hour of the morning.
As I walked, my thoughts naturally drifted to one specific person.
Charles Drake.
The father of the former owner of this body.
And now… my father.
According to the inherited memories, this world was divided into very clear tiers.
At the top were the mages.
Beings capable of manipulating arcane energy, altering nature, and destroying entire armies with devastating spells.
Below the mages were the swordsmen.
Warriors who refined their bodies to absurd limits using special breathing techniques.
And below them…
Ordinary people.
The vast majority of the population.
Charles Drake was a level 3 swordsman.
In the old Dylan's memories there was a very clear scene.
I — or rather, he — had seen it personally when he was younger.
My father was in the training courtyard.
In front of him stood an enormous rock.
The size of an elephant.
No exaggeration.
Charles simply took a deep breath, and his body hummed with a bright bluish electric aura.
He raised his sword.
And then…
"ZAP!!!
He cut.
The stone split in half as if it were butter.
When I discovered that for the first time through the body's memories… I was genuinely impressed.
In my previous world that would be completely impossible.
No ordinary human could do something like that.
But here…
It was simply part of the system of the world.
Swordsmen used special breathing techniques.
These techniques strengthened the body.
Muscles.
Bones.
Organs.
Even reflexes.
Those who trained could reach absurd capabilities.
And every noble family possessed its own breathing technique.
Some were extremely powerful.
Especially those of royal and imperial families.
Ours…
Well.
My father was a viscount.
That meant our technique wasn't exactly legendary.
Kings.
Emperors.
Dukes.
Marquesses.
They possessed far superior techniques.
But even so…
It was still something extremely valuable.
And definitely enough to begin with.
While thinking about this, I arrived at the entrance of the mansion's library.
I pushed the door.
It opened with a soft creak.
The library was enormous.
Shelves of dark wood stretched everywhere.
I began walking between the shelves.
Most of the books were not particularly interesting.
History.
Genealogy.
Noble etiquette.
Methods of governance.
Agricultural economics.
Important things for a noble managing lands… but not exactly useful for my immediate survival.
I continued walking toward the back of the library.
There, embedded in the stone wall, was a small metal safe.
Simple.
But sturdy.
And according to the memories, inside it there was only a single book.
Hard cover.
Dark.
Without a title.
According to this body's memories, that was the book that contained the Drake family's breathing technique.
My father had tried to teach the old Dylan several times.
Many times.
But the idiot always refused.
He preferred to drink.
Sleep.
Or cause trouble in the city.
I sighed.
I couldn't help but think one thing.
My father was too loving.
Too merciful.
Being an understanding father was good.
But in certain moments…
It would be morally correct to teach some lessons using the fists of paternal love on a spoiled child.
If Charles had done that…
Maybe the old Dylan wouldn't have turned into a complete useless fool.
When I was about to fully enter the room and walk toward the safe…
A voice appeared behind me.
— Am I hallucinating…?
— Or did young master Dylan really enter the library?
I turned my head.
A maid was there.
She held a feather duster while cleaning one of the shelves.
Her expression was full of disbelief.
The old Dylan had probably never set foot there.
I simply looked at her.
My gaze stayed fixed on hers for a few seconds.
The reaction was immediate.
She froze.
The ironic smile disappeared.
— I-I…
She quickly lowered her head.
— Forgive me, young master.
Without saying anything else, she hurried out of the library.
The sound of her footsteps disappeared down the corridor.
I turned my gaze back to the back of the room.
To the safe.
There was a metal combination disk on the front.
A numeric password.
According to the inherited memories, my father had told me that password years ago.
When he still believed I would actually learn the family technique.
Unfortunately…
The previous owner of this body had other priorities.
The result?
The password had simply vanished from his memory.
I sighed slowly.
Then I closed my eyes for a moment.
— Laboratory.
["Beep"]
— Access the files from the Parallel Dylan folder.
— Search for the password to this safe.
["Command received"]
["Accessing memory files…"]
["Indexing cognitive records…"]
A few seconds later, a small window blinked.
["Possible match found"]
A small memory clip appeared.
I was in Charles's office.
My father was sitting behind the desk.
— Pay attention.
— This is the password to the library safe.
The laboratory isolated the relevant segment.
["Password identified"]
["Transfer to active memory zone?"]
I smiled slightly.
— Confirmed.
["Transfer initiated..."]
["Transfer completed!"]
I opened my eyes.
The password was now clear.
I walked to the safe.
I grabbed the metal disk.
And began turning it.
First number.
"Click~~
Second number.
"Click~~
Third.
I turned it once more.
Stop.
Silence.
Then…
The internal mechanism unlocked.
I opened the small safe.
I carefully picked up the book.
It was heavier than it looked.
I closed the safe again and walked to one of the library tables.
I pulled out a wooden chair.
The sound of it scraped softly against the floor.
I sat down.
I placed the book on the table.
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1412 Words
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