On a narrow road inside a lush forest, several people were fighting around a horse-drawn carriage.
Swish!
Swoosh!
Bang!
Argh!
Among the two groups that were fighting, one was dressed in blue robes with golden linings across the shoulders and sleeves.
This group of people was clearly trying to defend. Unfortunately, the group of savage-looking people in animal fur robes, despite not having an advantage in numbers, was still stronger than them, and they were constantly getting injured.
Despite this, and the fear in their hearts, they continued to hold their positions, trying their best to defend, not allowing the group of bandits to reach the carriage.
Clang!
"Do you bastards not fear Viscount Raymond's wrath?! You should know all of you will be chased and slaughtered if Young Lord Lukas were to be harmed!" a grey-haired middle-aged man in blue-gold robes shouted as he parried an attack.
In response to his threat, the bandits sneered, while one who seemed to be their leader madly cackled, "Keke, who are you trying to fool, Knight Oslove?! Everyone knows Viscount Raymond does not care about him—he hates him. If it wasn't so, how could we have dared to attack you?!"
The grey-haired middle-aged man, Knight Oslove's expression fell when he heard this.
But a moment later, he opened his mouth to retort, but right then—
Shing~!
Plack!
The sound of a projectile being launched was heard, followed by the sound of metal piercing wood. Knight Oslove's eyes widened in horror as he hurriedly turned around, hoping the arrow had missed. But right then, he heard a pained scream from inside the carriage, which shattered his hope.
"Arrghhhhh!"
From the broken window of the carriage, he could see the arrow had pierced Lukas' chest. Immediately, his eyes turned bloodshot, and a whitish glow covered his body as he thundered toward a man perched upon a tree not far from them. "HOW DARE YOU!"
…
Gasp!
Suddenly, Lukas gasped, and his tightly closed eyes snapped open, the sudden light making him squint.
Slowly, as his eyes adjusted to the light, he furrowed his brows because he was staring at an unfamiliar ceiling. Turning his head to the side, he saw furniture and decorations that were also unfamiliar.
Just as he was feeling confused, his head suddenly throbbed in pain, causing him to clutch it tightly in his hands as he fought back the pained grunt struggling to escape his lips.
As the pain subsided after a few moments, memories that were not his appeared in his mind. He lay still in the bed, staring at the ceiling—now familiar—in a daze.
"I transmigrated…" The words finally escaped his lips. He was having a hard time believing something so mystical—the impossible he had only read about in fantasy novels—had happened to him.
However, this didn't make him happy. Not only because the situation of the person whose body his soul had transmigrated into wasn't anything but good, but also because he had people he loved back in his world—Earth.
That was right. After he went through the memories of the original Lukas, he found out he was no longer on Earth, but in a different world—a magical one where people harnessed the ambient energy known as Mana to surpass their mortal limits and use magic.
These people were called Mages or Magi.
Creak!
"Ah! Young Lord, you are awake!"
Suddenly, the sound of the doors of his room opening, followed by a surprised shriek, jolted him out of his thoughts.
Turning his head around, he looked over and saw a woman in a black-and-white maid outfit that clung to her shapely body, staring at him with her eyes wide open in pleasant surprise.
She looked to be in her mid-thirties, had a slender but curvaceous body, brownish-black hair tied into a bun atop her head, fair skin, pink full lips, and brown, clear eyes.
"Oriana…" Lukas muttered her name. This woman was 'his' personal maid who had taken care of him ever since he was young, because his mother didn't always have time to look after him. Though she was a maid, in the original Lukas' heart, she was no different than a loving aunt.
I suppose it's a good thing his memories haven't influenced me too much.
He thought, feeling the warmth arise in his heart when he saw her, but he could tell they weren't as strong as they should have been—meaning while the original Lukas' memories affected him, he was still in control of his emotions, which was a relief.
Snapping out of her surprise, Oriana rushed over, poured some water in a glass from the jar on the table beside the bed, and leaned down to lift his head up. "Here, Young Master, have some water first."
Lukas obliged, feeling his throat parched.
Slowly, he sipped half the glass and then raised his hand, indicating to her that he had enough. Oriana nodded and put away the glass, gently letting his head rest on the soft pillow before asking,
"How are you feeling, Young Lord? Any discomfort somewhere?"
Lukas felt his body for a moment before shaking his head and saying in a low voice, "No, just some stiffness and weakness."
"That's to be expected, Young Lord. You have been unconscious for over a month now," Oriana said, sighing in relief.
"Alright, please rest for a while. I'll go and give the good news to the Mistress and Young Lady."
Saying this, she left the room, leaving Lukas alone with his thoughts.
"I have been unconscious for over a month, huh?" he muttered. Then, as he recalled what had happened on that day in the forest, he touched his chest and got surprised when he didn't find any scar.
That arrow had definitely pierced my chest… he thought, recalling the moments before he passed out. He had seen the arrow lodged in his chest along with the shards of the necklace he was wearing.
Maybe they gave me some good medicine? he thought before shaking his head, his lips curling up into a wry smile.
While there were indeed magic medicines capable of completely healing wounds without leaving any scar, they were more precious than the ones that only healed.
Given how he was treated in the family, he was sure 'his father', Viscount Raymond, nor his first wife who handled the matters of the family, would give him such medicine. In fact, he wouldn't be surprised if they had left him to die.
Just then, his vision became blurry before blanking out completely. When he could see again, he found himself standing in a colorless hall. No, it wasn't colorless—it was just that he wasn't able to discern the colors.
In front of him, on a throne, was sitting a blurry figure, looking at him. Then, a powerful voice that seemed to come from a vast distance away boomed in his mind, almost causing him to blank out again.
"Hmm? How strange! How can someone so weak like you manage to obtain this Lord's legacy?!"