"Mhhmm…" Roland mumbled, still clinging to Enzo like a lifeline.
"My lord? What are you saying?" Enzo asked, blinking in confusion.
"I… I need…" Roland croaked, placing a shaky hand on Enzo's shoulder, eyes half-lidded with exhaustion.
"You need?!" Enzo repeated, his voice rising in panic. "Do you need a doctor? A healer? Is it internal bleeding?!"
"I need…" Roland leaned closer, barely above a whisper. "…water."
There was a long pause.
Enzo blinked. "Water?"
"Yes," Roland whispered dramatically. "Cold. Clear. Life-giving… water."
...
"Ah! That hit the spot!" Roland said with a sigh of relief, wiping his mouth after gulping down the cup of water Enzo had handed him.
Thank the gods, I thought I was going to die of thirst. Roland mused inwardly.
"My lord, I've already informed the head butler of your successful completion of the trial," Enzo said, now composed once more, his posture straight and voice refined. "They will prepare a room for you to rest in—since it is already nighttime."
"Thank you, Enzo." Roland smiled, glancing toward the tall window nearby, where the night sky stretched endlessly, moonless and dark.
Enzo, still holding the lantern in his left hand, took a moment to really observe Roland now that the light was better. He hadn't gotten a good look earlier through all the emotion.
"Are you sure you don't need medical attention, my lord?" Enzo asked, genuine concern in his voice.
Roland gave him a lopsided grin and shook his head. "No need, I'm perfectly fine. See?"
He raised his right arm and flexed what little muscle he could muster.
Enzo let out a chuckle, the tension easing from his shoulders. A wide smile spread across his face. "It seems you haven't lost your sense of humor, my lord."
"What? Were you afraid I'd turn into some unfeeling monster?" Roland quipped, smirking.
Enzo shook his head gently. "No. I knew you'd come out of there alive."
...
In the lounge of the Imperial Palace, the four candidates sat in tense silence, the atmosphere thick with unspoken thoughts.
Suddenly, the doors slammed open with a bang. A young, green-haired butler burst into the room and shouted, "Young Lord Erkhart has awakened!"
The candidates blinked, startled—not just by the announcement, but also by the sheer lack of decorum. Unlike the composed and elegant head butler, this young man moved with clumsy urgency, and his speech lacked the polish expected in the presence of nobles.
All four candidates turned toward him, surprised by both his words and his manner.
"He is alive? Was he injured?" Eugene asked, standing abruptly, clearly shocked.
"Well—" the young butler began, but was immediately cut off by a firm, commanding voice.
"You should watch your tone."
It was Archduke Cyrus, his gaze sharp as ever. His voice, though calm, carried the weight of authority.
The young butler froze mid-sentence, eyes wide in realization. "Y-Yes, Your Grace," he stammered, bowing quickly as his earlier confidence dissolved into panic.
Cyrus continued to stare, his unblinking gaze making the young butler visibly squirm. The poor boy looked like he wanted to melt into the floor, struggling to form even the simplest apology.
"That's enough, Your Grace," Alice interjected calmly, her voice as composed as ever. She lifted her porcelain cup and took a graceful sip of Imperial Black Tea. "I believe he's recognized his mistake. I trust he will carry himself more appropriately from now on."
Cyrus turned his head to glance at Alice, his expression unreadable. After a beat of silence, he leaned back into his sofa, the tension in the room ebbing slightly.
"Go on. Deliver your report," Cyrus said, his tone cool and measured.
The young butler straightened, taking a shaky breath. "Y-Yes, Your Grace. Young Lord Erkhart has awakened. He's conscious and… well, he's already up and moving on his own."
A mix of surprise and indifference flickered across the candidates' faces, each processing the news in their own manner.
"Anything else?" Eugene asked, his voice tinged with impatience as he sank back into his sofa, arms folded.
The young butler quickly shook his head. "N-No, my lord… I haven't heard anything else."
"That I can attest to." A familiar voice echoed as the head butler entered the room, his calm and composed presence immediately restoring decorum.
He cast a glance at the trembling youth beside him and let out a faint sigh.
"Please allow me to apologize on his behalf," the head butler said, offering a respectful bow. "He is newly hired and lacks experience in the ways of the Imperial Palace."
The candidates offered no verbal response, but their silent nods served as tacit approval.
Straightening his posture, the head butler continued, "Although Candidate Erkhart has awakened, it is already quite late. The Elders have decided it would be best to wait until tomorrow morning to arrange a formal audience."
He paused before concluding, "As per the original plan, a servant will arrive shortly to escort each of you to your designated chambers for the night."
Seeing no objections from the candidates, both the head butler and the young green-haired butler gave a respectful bow before quietly exiting the room.
"Psst. Cryus... don't you find that green-haired butler a little off-putting?" Aurora whispered, her youthful voice barely audible as she leaned toward Cryus. "I can't put my finger on it, but something about him feels... off."
Archduke Cryus gave a subtle nod, his expression thoughtful. He leaned in slightly and whispered back, "I agree. The head butler was also lying about his origins. The Imperial Palace doesn't hire butlers with less than ten years of service, let alone assign one to attend the young lords of the Five Great Noble Houses."
His voice was calm, but his tone held a quiet warning.
...
"Woah... This room is huge!" Roland exclaimed, standing at the entrance of the luxurious chambers prepared for him. This is way better than any five-star hotel back on Earth!
His eyes sparkled as he stepped inside, practically glowing with excitement. The room was spacious, complete with a polished work desk, two elegant sofas facing each other in the center, and a massive gas chandelier hanging from the ceiling—its delicate glass crystals catching the soft glow of the flames.
That chandelier must've cost a fortune. Even my main household didn't have one because of how expensive and rare they were, Roland thought, gazing up in awe.
The world he now inhabited was reminiscent of the early Victorian era. Gas lighting was a recent innovation—so rare and costly that only the Imperial Family had the wealth and influence to get early access.
"My lord, the bath has been drawn for you. The washroom is to the left; your bedchamber is to the right," Enzo said from behind him, as calm and precise as always.
"Thank you," Roland replied, beaming. His grin stretched from ear to ear, his eyes gleaming like a kid in a candy store.
"I will be taking my leave now, my lord," Enzo said with a small bow. After exchanging farewells, he quietly exited the room.
Once Roland heard the door to his three-room chamber close, he headed into the bathing chambers.
Standing in front of the washroom mirror, he began to undress, his eyes scanning over his reflection.
There don't seem to be any physical changes… he thought, narrowing his gaze as he inspected his body more closely.
Ever since the trial ended, I've felt different—stronger. My body no longer feels weak or frail. Actually… he paused, flexing slightly, I think I'm even stronger than I was back on Earth, and even stronger than Anderson's body was.
Stepping into the warm bathtub, he slowly sank beneath the water, letting the soothing heat ease the lingering aches.
But that's not the only change…
I've also gained my own 'divine' energy in the real world. And along with it… my unique power.
I guess I truly am a vessel now.