The morning sun pierced through the tall, stained-glass windows of the Spades Mansion, casting prismatic shadows across the polished marble floor. The hallway stretched endlessly, lined with silent suits of armor and portraits of grim-faced ancestors. Cold air drifted faintly through the grand corridors, brushing against Saul's skin like ghostly fingers.

  Saul stood still for a moment, now dressed in formal clothes of noble black and silver trim. The fabric was smooth, heavy, and foreign to him. Lillian stood behind, gently adjusting his collar.

  "Keep your sleeves down, young master," she said softly.

  He gave a faint nod. He had grown somewhat used to the unfamiliar weight of his new body. His movements still felt uncoordinated—like walking in a shell that wasn’t his.

  The doors to the dining room creaked open.

  As Saul entered the grand dining room, the morning light spilled through tall arched windows, casting golden rays across the polished floors. A massive grandfather clock ticked steadily in the corner, and a crystal chandelier hung from above, flickering with the touch of sunlight. The air felt colder here, despite the warmth.

  Saul glanced around. So, this is what a noble breakfast looks like... he thought.

  At the far end of the long table sat two figures—his parents. They both looked stern, unmoving, statues carved from nobility and pride. Saul hesitated for a moment.

  They look strict… but I’m sure they’re kind inside. Right? he told himself with a faint, uncertain smile.

  Lillian stood beside him. “Here, young master,” she said gently, gesturing to his seat.

  Saul sat down, a bit stiffly. Lillian moved in the background, placing plates with quiet grace. The utensils sparkled, the dishes were rich, yet the room’s silence was heavier than the food itself.

  Lady Evelyne turned her sharp gaze to Saul, eyes like daggers hidden behind beauty. “Are you fully healed now?”

  Saul smiled with practiced politeness. “Yes. I’m fit and fine now, Mother.”

  There was a brief silence. Lillian placed food on his plate carefully.

  Then, a cold voice cut through the air.

  “You look happy for some reason,” said Lord Elden, his tone devoid of warmth.

  Saul turned, startled. “Of course. I finally got to meet my mother and father again. I know you’ve both been busy and worried, but I’m fine now, so—”

  “I don’t like it,” Elden interrupted, his voice like frost cracking glass.

  Saul blinked. “Huh?”

  Elden leaned slightly forward, his eyes now piercing. “Your tone. Your smile. Your carefree words. You forget who you’re speaking to. Where is your discipline?”

  His stare was suffocating. Saul tried to hold his gaze but found his body trembling ever so slightly. Why can’t I look into his eyes? Why does my body feel—scared? It’s not me. It’s... him.

  “You lost your memories,” Elden continued, “which means you lost everything. Your pride. Your skills. Your reputation. And you sit there smiling like a fool.”

  Saul’s smile withered. “F-Forgive me, Father.”

  Elden didn’t look convinced. “Don’t you understand what’s at stake? This family’s reputation isn’t built on weakness. We do not tolerate failure.”

  So this is what kind of people they are… Saul thought, his chest tightening. Are they really my parents?

  Trying to ground himself, Saul reached for the utensils, but his hands fumbled. He didn’t even know how to hold a fork and knife properly. The fork clinked against the plate awkwardly. His grip was untrained, childlike.

  Lady Evelyne’s lips curled slightly in disdain. “Lillian,” she said without even glancing over, “teach him how to eat properly. He looks like a stray dog seated in a noble’s hall.”

  “Yes, my lady,” Lillian responded, moving to help Saul with his grip.

  As Lillian adjusted his fingers gently, Saul mumbled, “I’m more used to spoons, I guess…” His voice was soft, lost in the tension.

  Elden’s voice cut again, sharp as a blade. “From this day forward, your memory loss is a secret. No one outside these walls is to know. Do you understand me?”

  “Yes, Father,” Saul said quietly.

  “You will relearn everything. Swordsmanship. History. Manners. Magic. You will not rest until you’ve returned to the level you once held. If you falter... if you embarrass this family…” He didn’t finish. He didn’t need to.

  Saul looked down, a shadow over his eyes. So I have to pretend to be someone I never was. Someone perfect. But what if I can’t?

  Still, a faint smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. No pressure, right? Just a little reincarnation and a noble legacy to maintain. Easy.

  Elden narrowed his eyes. “What is that expression? Are you mocking me?”

  “No, sir,” Saul replied quickly. “Just... remembering something.”

  “You have nothing to remember,” Evelyne said flatly. “Your thoughts now belong to the Spades name. Make them worthy of it.”

  The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  The clock ticked.

  Lillian’s hands trembled slightly as she adjusted Saul’s napkin.

  Saul clenched the fork. This world… this life… is so damn heavy.

  After the meal Lord Elden turned and walked away, boots echoing like distant thunder.

  Lady Evelyne followed soon after, offering nothing more than a cold glance.

  And then Saul was alone with Lillian in that suffocating room.

  He stared down at the half-eaten food, his hands still trembling.

  "Lillian..." he whispered.

  "Yes, young master?"

  "...What kind of family is this?"

  She looked at him. Her expression was unreadable.

  "The kind that demands too much from the people it breaks."

  Back in his room, Saul slumped into the chair with a deep sigh, covering his face with both hands.

  Ugh… how can I ever show my face to Lillian again? I probably looked like a spoiled brat at the table… I'm doomed!

  Behind him, Lillian quietly gathered the books left out from the night before. She glanced up, noticing Saul’s unusual stillness.

  She walked over and stood in front of him. “Young master, is something wrong?”

  Saul turned away quickly, hiding his face. “It’s nothing,” he muttered.

  Lillian frowned slightly, then moved around to face him again. “You’re clearly upset. Tell me.”

  Once more, Saul turned away, refusing to meet her gaze. “…It’s nothing, really.”

  Now visibly frustrated, Lillian circled around again—but this time, she gently wrapped her arms around him from behind.

  “Are you angry at me?” she whispered, her voice soft like drifting petals. “Did I do something wrong?”

  Saul froze. Not because of what she said—but because something soft pressed against his back.

  His ears turned red instantly. He jerked forward and twisted around. “W-What are you doing?!”

  Lillian blinked, confused. “I thought you were upset with me… you’re acting strange.”

  Saul was clearly blushing, his mind spinning. I may be in a 10-year-old’s body… but my mind is 18! And she just used a critical emotional attack on me!

  He cleared his throat, trying to sound mature. “I’m not angry, okay? I just… I feel down after what happened at breakfast.”

  Lillian’s expression softened. She sat on the edge of the table beside him, folding her hands in her lap. “Your parents… they’ve always been like that. Cold. Strict. From the very beginning.”

  “Really?” Saul asked, glancing up.

  She nodded. “When you were born, Lord Elden immediately began training you. Harshly. But you… you excelled. At a very young age, you were already defeating grown men with a sword. Other nobles took notice—some admired you, many envied you. That’s why your parents push you so hard. That’s why they speak like that.”

  She looked away for a moment. “And… the old you? You were different. Quiet. Cold. Just like them.”

  Saul took it all in silently. He leaned back, staring at the ceiling.

  “…I see,” he murmured. “That makes sense. But now, I’m not really him… and yet I am. I’m just… curious about this boy. About Saul Spades. About this body.”

  Lillian tilted her head. “You seem different lately. Softer.”

  Saul gave a small smile. “Maybe that’s not a bad thing.”

  He turned his eyes to the small flower pot resting on the side table. Nestled within was a cluster of delicate dark blue flowers—tiny things, like stars trapped in bloom.

  "...What’s this?" he asked, pointing. "These flowers."

  Lillian walked over and smiled gently. "Those are Saphira Blooms. In this empire, they’re often given to someone who is recovering. A way of saying ‘get well soon’ or ‘I hope you find your strength again.’"

  Saul blinked. His brows furrowed. "...Did you bring them?"

  Lillian shook her head. "No. I’ve been with you the whole time, young master."

  He stared at the flowers for a long moment. "Then... who did?"

  There was silence between them.

  He glanced toward the hallway outside the room, then back to the pot. "There’s no way... my parents would do something like that. Right?"

  Lillian remained quiet, her expression unreadable.

  Saul leaned forward, the gears in his mind turning. So someone brought these... someone who wanted me to get better. But who in this place would care?

  The blue petals swayed gently, though the window was shut.

  Saul and Lillian stepped out of the grand stone mansion, sunlight slipping through the leaves of towering forest trees. A gentle breeze carried the scent of wildflowers blooming by the roadside, and a small stream bubbled quietly beside their path.

  As they walked, Saul glanced at the secluded scenery around them. “Hey… why is this mansion in the middle of nowhere? It kinda feels like one of those haunted houses from ghost stories.”

  Lillian chuckled softly. “It does feel eerie sometimes, doesn’t it? But this place is actually a symbol of pride… a kind of heritage estate of the Spades family. A farmhouse, you could say.”

  “Wait—what?” Saul blinked. “I thought this was just our mansion.”

  “No,” she said, smiling. “Your parents live in the capital city—April, the heart of the Roselle Empire. They sent you and—” She suddenly paused.

  “And…?” Saul narrowed his eyes, catching the slip.

  “Ah—sorry, my tongue slipped,” she said quickly, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear. “Anyway, your parents chose this location to keep you... away from the public eye.”

  Saul stared ahead in thought. So, there's more to this isolation than I thought.

  Lillian pointed forward. “We’re heading to a nearby town to get some supplies. It’s not far.”

  As they walked further down the path, something caught Saul’s eye in the grass. A small, blue, jelly-like creature wobbled gently under the shade of a tree.

  “Whoa—what’s that?” Saul leaned in, squinting.

  Lillian followed his gaze. “Oh, that’s just a slime. A Blue Slime, to be exact.”

  “A slime?” Saul repeated with interest.

  “They’re common around here. Different types appear depending on the land and climate. Mud slimes are useful to farmers—they help fertilize fields. Ice slimes live near the cold north and are used in cooling storage. There’s even healing slimes used by some mages.”

  “Sounds like Pokémon,” Saul muttered under his breath.

  “What was that?”

  “Nothing. Just thinking—this world has a lot of strange creatures. What about monsters? Like, the dangerous ones?”

  Lillian’s face darkened slightly. “If you want to talk about true monsters… then we’d have to go back to the Dungeon Era. That was the age when dungeons tore open the land, and terrifying creatures crawled out—goblins, ogres, even wyverns.”

  “Goblins?” Saul raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t they the small, dumb ones?”

  “Don’t let their size fool you,” Lillian said. “Goblins are one of the most dangerous in terms of reproduction. They only need a female—any female, regardless of species. Human, elf, beastkin... Once they capture one, they multiply rapidly. Villages fell overnight. That’s why the Empire declared them a threat to mankind and began the systematic purging of their nests. They were... disgusting creatures.”

  Saul felt a chill crawl up his spine. That’s darker than I expected.

  They crossed a small stone bridge, the stream now flowing beneath their feet, and stepped into the outskirts of a quaint town. A shepherd passed by, guiding a flock of bleating sheep with a crooked staff, tipping his hat politely as he passed them.

  Saul looked around at the peaceful scene and then glanced at Lillian. “Hard to believe this place exists in the same world that had to wipe out monsters like that.”

  Lillian gave a small nod. “That’s why people cling to peace.”

  The streets of Vale Town buzzed with life. Merchants barked out their prices, the scent of fresh bread, grilled meat, and ripe fruit hung heavy in the air. Saul’s eyes darted from one colorful stand to another as he followed Lillian into the bustling town square. In the middle of it all was a wide open space lined with shops—a bakery, a butcher, fruit sellers, and vegetable carts stacked with crates.

  Saul looked around, awed. “This is my first time coming to a place like this... It feels alive.”

  Lillian smiled. “Vale Town’s small, but people from nearby villages come here to trade. Stay right here, young master.” She handed him a few copper and silver coins, her gloved fingers brushing his palm. “I’ll be back soon. Don’t wander.”

  Before Saul could protest, she had already vanished into the crowd with swift, practiced steps.

  He waited… for a few seconds.

  The scent of warm bread wafted by. His stomach growled. “Ugh… I didn’t even eat properly this morning,” he muttered, eyeing the nearby bakery.

  A soft loaf with a golden crust stared back at him like temptation incarnate.

  “Lillian might scold me… but just one won't hurt.”

  He walked over, bought a couple of warm rolls, and as he bit into one, he noted, “So this world still uses old coinage—copper, silver, and gold. No paper money. Interesting.”

  As he turned to head back to his waiting spot, he heard something—a faint sob echoing from a narrow alley between two buildings. Curious, Saul moved closer, his half-eaten bread in hand.

  In the alley, he spotted two boys. One sat on the ground, crying softly. The other—older, scruffier—loomed over him with a smug grin.

  “Hey,” Saul stepped forward. “Get away from him.”

  The older boy turned to look. His smirk disappeared the moment he saw Saul’s clean noble attire and calm demeanor.

  “W-what do you want, fancy?” the bully muttered.

  Saul’s lips curved into a slight smirk. “I want you to back off before I make you cry in public.”

  The bully hesitated, then scoffed and ran off.

  “Hmph,” Saul shook his head. “Kids in every world fear nobles.”

  The younger boy sniffled and looked up at Saul. “T-Thank you, mister…”

  “You okay?” Saul crouched down.

  The boy nodded slowly. “Yeah. He bullies me every day… but I was just trying to protect my sister. She’s hurt. She's deeper in the alley.”

  Saul frowned slightly. “Let’s take a look.”

  He followed the kid farther down the alley. The sound of the town faded with each step. Shadows deepened, and trash littered the edges. “Strange… I don’t see anyone,” he murmured.

  Then—a voice from behind.

  “Thought you could act all high and mighty, huh?”

  Saul turned. The bully from earlier was standing there again, this time with his arms crossed. “Don’t get cocky just ‘cause you're dressed like a noble. This is my territory.”

  Saul raised an eyebrow. “Territory? Like I care.”

  As Saul took a step forward, the bully flinched. “W-What are you doing?! Stay back!”

  “You’re just a kid throwing tantrums,” Saul said, his tone flat. “Cut it out before someone really makes you regret it.”

  Just as he reached out to grab the kid by the collar.

  Then—shhk!—cold steel touched Saul’s neck.

  From the shadows, several thugs emerged, surrounding him. One placed a sword against his throat, while others blocked the narrow path out.

  “Very well done, kids,” one of the thugs said, patting the boy’s head. “You caught a big fish today.”

  A bald thug with a gold tooth grinned. “A noble, huh? We’re gonna get rich.”

  Saul’s heart pounded. He glanced behind—the boy was smirking. He was with them all along…

  Completely surrounded, Saul clenched his fists.

  “what..”