A soft breeze flowed through the marbled corridors of House Velebrandt's inner estate, carrying with it the scent of blooming silverlotus flowers from the garden courtyards. The chime of distant bells, used by maids to signal meal shifts, echoed faintly—yet for Lucien Caelum Velebrandt, heir to the western gate of the Empire, today's rhythm was more familiar than before.
It had been a week since his brutal—but exhilarating—training with General Knight Rex began. Each morning was a test of endurance, each swing of the sword a chorus of aching limbs and sweat-slicked skin. And yet, he craved it.
"Again," Rex would bark, the sun just peeking over the estate's skyspires. And again, Lucien would lift his wooden blade with shaking arms, jaw clenched and fire burning in his chest.
But it wasn't just his physical body evolving. In the quiet moments between drills, Lucien began observing the world with a different lens—no longer a reincarnated soul merely surviving, but a noble heir absorbing the responsibilities of his birthright.
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In the afternoons, Lucien often sat in the grand library under the golden sunlight filtering through stained-glass windows, diving into thick tomes about the "Sword of the West"—an ancient martial philosophy exclusive to his bloodline.
> "To protect the Abyssgate is to know that a single misstep invites oblivion. The sword is not for pride, but for judgment. Not for glory, but for mercy."
He took notes, scribbled in ink with a quill too heavy for his still-childlike hands. He asked questions. He remembered answers. He began to truly understand what being the heir of House Velebrandt meant.
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It was during one of these lessons with his mother—Archduchess Seraphina Lysandra Velebrandt, daughter of the Emperor himself—that Lucien first learned of the town beyond the gates.
"The Velebrandt Estate is no mere manor, Lucien. It stretches far beyond these marble halls. Merchants, craftsmen, guildmasters, even adventurers from distant kingdoms—many find refuge and prosperity under our banners. Over six million people, to be precise."
Lucien's eyes widened. "Six... million?!" That's like half a country from my old world…
Elowen chuckled behind her teacup. "Their taxes, commerce, and allegiance fuel our coffers. We are the western shield of the Empire, yes—but we are also its western vault."
From that moment on, the boy couldn't stop thinking about it. The buzz of open markets. The clang of blacksmiths. The tales of adventurers, the smell of grilled meat skewers, the loud laughter of mercenaries counting their bounties.
"I want to see it," he told her the next day.
"No," she replied flatly.
"But why? I'm the heir—shouldn't I know my people?"
"You're six."
"I'm mature."
"You tried to drink wine yesterday and called it 'grape vinegar.'"
Lucien groaned, but he didn't give up. The next morning, he asked again. Then again during dinner. Then during sword training. Then again while holding his baby brother, pretending to be the responsible older sibling he knew his mother wanted.
After days of persistence—and perhaps a slight headache from his whining—Seraphina sighed. "Fine. You may visit. But only for a few hours. General Knight Rex will accompany you at all times."
Lucien nearly leapt from his chair. "Yes!"
"And you will wear your proper house attire."
"Of course!"
"And you will not enter any taverns."
"…Not even to look?"
"Lucien."
"Okay, okay!"
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That night, Lucien lay on his bed, staring up at the ornate ceiling carved with depictions of past Velebrandt warriors. He thought about the stories he would write if this were still his old life. The "Noble Brat Turned Hero!"... or maybe "Six-Year-Old Swordsman Shocks Empire!"
But this wasn't a story anymore. This was real.
And tomorrow, he would finally see the world beyond the gilded cage of nobility.
________________________________________
The morning sun had only just crested the eastern sky when the front courtyard of the Velebrandt estate came alive. The cobbled ground sparkled faintly from the morning dew, and the scent of rose-thorn hedges and ornamental bloomgrass lined the air with a luxurious freshness. The maids, all lined up in perfect formation, bowed deeply as the doors opened and the young master appeared.
Archduchess Seraphina Lysandra Velebrandt stood beside her son, clad in her signature violet imperial gown embroidered with gold-trimmed threads in the shape of soaring wings—an emblem of her celestial bloodline and noble station. Her silvery hair, much like her son's, shimmered beneath the daylight, and her amethyst eyes held a rare softness.
"You're to protect my son with your life, Rex," she said sternly, addressing the tall knight waiting by the horses.
General Knight Rex, a man clad in a sharp black uniform with golden pauldrons and a crimson cloak, nodded and placed his fist over his heart. "With my life, my lady. You needn't worry."
Seraphina turned to her son and gave him a final pat on the head, brushing a loose lock of silver hair aside. "And you—don't go pestering merchants for free sweets, Lucien."
The boy smirked. "No promises, Mother."
Rex chuckled deeply and offered his hand to Lucien. "Come now, little master. We ride."
Rather than summoning the Velebrandt household's usual ceremonial carriage—gilded with skysteel and escorted by a dozen elite guards—they had opted for a more discreet approach. Lucien climbed onto the horse, settling between the sturdy arms of General Rex, his back resting comfortably against the man's armor-plated chest.
With a soft click of the reins, the black stallion began its trot, hooves clicking against stone before transitioning into the soft hush of dirt as they left the estate proper. The forest beyond was dense with towering amberwoods and blossom-pines that filtered the golden light into glimmering patterns across the trail.
Lucien, curious as ever, glanced around at the endless spread of trees. The canopy was thick, but shafts of light trickled through in graceful columns, giving the illusion of a forest bathed in sacred light. Wild geffras—a breed of tiny antlered creatures—darted past them, unafraid of the horse or its riders. Birds chirped harmoniously, creating a serene natural orchestra.
"…Rex," Lucien muttered after thirty minutes of riding in near silence, "How wide is this place, exactly?"
Rex pulled the reins slightly to slow the horse's pace. "Wide enough that your father doesn't need an army. The land itself protects us."
Lucien blinked. "That's… vague."
The knight chuckled again, deep and amused. "Let's just say, the estate alone is the size of several noble cities combined. The forest around us? Part of the outer ring. You'll understand more once we reach the town."
As they neared the outer gate, two towering walls of starforged steel loomed ahead, with crested banners of House Velebrandt flapping gently in the wind. The gate was guarded by heavily armored knights clad in deep black and silver, holding halberds marked with the winged lion sigil of their house.
General Rex dismounted, still holding Lucien in one arm with ease. He stepped forward and handed a sealed parchment to the guards. "By order of the Archduchess."
The guard examined the seal—an embossed emblem of a phoenix crown—before giving a firm nod. "Opening the gate."
With a creak and a rumble, the massive gates split open, revealing a continued path still surrounded by dense trees.
"…More forest?" Lucien mumbled in disbelief.
Rex raised an eyebrow. "You truly thought the Velebrandt estate was just a mansion and a garden?"
Lucien turned pink. "W-Well…"
"Your father governs an entire region of the West. One doesn't earn the title of Grand Duke for maintaining a cozy villa."
Lucien silently turned his gaze back to the road, too embarrassed to answer.
The road ahead was smoother now, and sunlight fell freely across it. Birds soared high above them. Flowers bloomed along the edges of the path—lavendran stems and starfire lilies, their petals glowing faintly in the light. Butterflies as large as Lucien's palm fluttered lazily around, dancing with the breeze.
He leaned back again into Rex's chest, eyes tracing the treetops. "What kind of trees are these?" They don't look like anything from Earth…
"They're called crystabarks," Rex replied. "Their bark stores sunlight and glows faintly at night. Some townsfolk collect them to light up streets."
Lucien's eyes widened in childlike awe.
It wasn't just a new world. It was a world of wonder.
As they continued deeper, the wind carried the faint scent of baked goods and roasted meat, hinting that the town wasn't too far now.
The adventure had only just begun.