Chapter One: A New Beginning

The dim room was shrouded in shadows, with the pale moonlight rippling through the window like gentle waves, spilling across the empty space. A faint, lingering scent of decaying wood permeated the air, yet the intricate patterns that could be glimpsed upon the surrounding walls revealed the extraordinary status of the room’s owner.

“Hiss!” It was starting again. A young man sat beside his desk, gently rubbing his throbbing temples as countless fragments of memory surged into his mind.

“How much longer will this last?” he thought irritably. “If anyone notices, it’ll be a real problem. And I’ve heard my so-called father is returning soon.”

Restless, he sat quietly, trying to digest the recent flood of memories. Gradually, many unfamiliar customs and etiquettes became clear to him.

He was now Li Xiu—no, he should call himself Hughes Bruch. Originally, he had been an orphan on Earth, working at a hospital after graduating from university. Though his salary was modest in his first month, it was enough to support himself. Without a girlfriend, life was manageable. That night, he and a few university friends had celebrated landing their dream jobs with drinks. He remembered little after getting drunk—just that he somehow made it home. When he awoke, he found himself unexpectedly transported to another world.

He had read enough novels to accept transmigration fairly quickly. But unlike others who found themselves in some world of fiction or film, Hughes, upon absorbing the host’s memories, realized this world resembled Earth’s medieval era. Here, his country was several times larger than his previous homeland, which left him feeling entirely disheartened. He truly had crossed into a completely unfamiliar world. Still, with no real attachments left behind, he resolved to make the best of the situation.

Hughes slowly opened his eyes, stood, and picked up a mirror. It was really just a highly polished piece of metal—a far cry from the mirrors of Earth. Gazing into it, he saw himself at just fourteen: blond, a thin face, looking rather ordinary, and yet with a refined air. Most striking were his violet eyes, which lent him an ethereal, almost otherworldly charm. He recalled from his predecessor’s memories that he had never seen anyone else with violet eyes. Only his father had once told him his mother had shared the same eyes, then said no more—a mystery that left Hughes puzzled.

As the pain faded, Hughes climbed into bed, his mind clearer than ever.

“This must be the last of the memories,” he sensed. Emptying his thoughts, he drifted off to sleep.

Morning broke, sunlight gilding the earth and bathing everything in a golden glow.

“Knock, knock. Young Master Hughes, the lord has returned and sent me to call you to breakfast,” a maid announced respectfully from outside his door.

“All right, Ellie, please tell Father I’ll be right there.”

Hughes dressed, washed up, and made his way downstairs to the dining room.

He exhaled deeply. “I am Hughes Bruch,” he reminded himself, repeating it inwardly. He couldn’t help feeling nervous about meeting his father for the first time.

As he approached the table, his father, Clay, looked up at him, and Hughes felt his body tense involuntarily.

“Good morning, Father,” Hughes greeted him, following the host’s customary manners.

“Mm.” Clay nodded.

“I hear that while I was away, you didn’t go out carousing with your friends. Very good,” Clay said, a smile on his lips.

“Yes, Father. I’ve been reading books about knights lately,” Hughes replied smoothly, relaxing a little.

“I knew it. Only knights ever seem to interest you. Don’t worry—I’ve made arrangements. Starting tomorrow, you’ll begin learning the swordsmanship and breathing techniques of the knights.”

“Really? Thank you, Father!” Hughes feigned excitement, knowing from the fragments of memory that this had always been the original host’s wish.

He turned his attention to breakfast, which was lavish: bread, milk, coffee, fruit, roast meat, and clotted cream. Transmigration like this had its perks. Clay Bruch, Hughes’s father, was a count who owned a territory the size of a city, with over a thousand private knights. He had earned his rank and lands through military service, granted to him after the wars ended.

The atmosphere at the table was warm. Count Clay had four children—three sons and one daughter. As the eldest, and with his mother having died of illness, Hughes was heir to the title.

Breakfast passed quickly. Afterward, Hughes felt the urge to go outside. It had been four days since his arrival in this world, but until now, he had avoided venturing out for fear of revealing his incomplete memories.

“Father, I’d like to go for a walk. I’ve been cooped up in my room for three days and need some fresh air,” Hughes said.

“But—” Clay began, only for Hughes to cut in hastily.

“Don’t worry, Father. I’m not going to find Randall for any mischief. I just want some air.” Randall was Hughes’s best friend, notorious for leading him astray.

Clay nodded slowly at that.

“Shall I send someone to accompany you?” he offered, still concerned.

“No need, Father. I’ll stay near the castle.”

Clay said nothing more. Hughes straightened his clothes and left the castle.

On the street, he saw a sea of golden-haired, blue-eyed people, bustling back and forth. Some vendors hawked their wares, mostly animal pelts, unfamiliar herbs, and fruits. Many greeted Hughes as he passed. As the count’s son and heir, with his distinctive violet eyes, he was impossible to miss.

Wandering aimlessly, Hughes came across a weapons shop. In this world, weapons were forbidden to the common folk; only with his father’s personal license could such a shop operate. Even then, most of the items sold were agricultural tools. Hughes noticed that meat was scarce in the markets, which made sense—this world, like the Middle Ages, had stark divides between nobles and commoners.

“Hey, Hughes! I haven’t seen you these past few days.”

Hughes turned and recognized Randall, his closest friend in the host’s memories.

“Hey, Randall. Got anything good to sell me today?” Hughes joked. In his memory, Randall was always peddling oddities, boasting them up to trick the fun-loving heir. After Count Clay had caught wind of it a few times, he’d warned Hughes to keep his distance, but said little else. Randall’s father ran a merchant company within the territory, and Clay had no wish to make trouble. Besides, though Randall often tricked Hughes, he was a decent sort—and Hughes’s best friend.

Randall grinned. “It’s been ages since I last saw you—I was just wondering where you’d gone.”

“Let’s not talk about that,” Hughes replied, glancing at him. “My father’s sending me to learn knightly swordsmanship tomorrow. I heard you started last month.”

Randall laughed. “Of course! I’m much stronger now. Don’t worry, when you start, I’ll look out for you.”

Hughes couldn’t help but laugh. “You think the heir of a count, in his own territory, needs you to look after him?”

Randall chuckled awkwardly. “Just saying, just saying.”

“Is swordsmanship really useful?” Hughes asked, curious.

“Absolutely! There’s a special breathing technique that goes with it. I can lift stones weighing a hundred pounds now—how about that?” Randall proclaimed loudly.

Hearing this, Hughes found himself looking forward to tomorrow.

“Tomorrow, I’ll finally see the knight’s training the host so longed for.”

“See you at the training ground tomorrow, Randall,” Hughes called, walking off without waiting for Randall to show him his latest wares.

The original Hughes had been easily duped, but Li Xiu was not so naïve.

With a slight smile at Randall’s voice behind him, Hughes returned to the castle.

After dinner and washing up, Hughes lay on his bed, intent on sleeping early, anticipation for tomorrow’s training filling his heart.