"Young lord! Young lord!"
Elric's trance was broken by several voices shouting from behind. He turned to see a group of guards running toward him, and among them he recognized some familiar faces from his inherited memories.
Roy, who had been walking beside him, suddenly stopped. His expression shifted from concern to something far more dangerous as he focused on Marcus, the guard Elric had taken hostage.
"What were you thinking?" Roy's voice was cold and clipped, each word sharp as a blade. "Didn't I tell you to inform the physician the moment the young lord woke up? Did you throw your brain into the Abyss? Why did you bring him out here alone?"
Marcus seemed to shrink under the verbal assault, but Roy wasn't finished.
"I think Lord Ronga's training has been too easy for you lately. From now on, you'll meet me every afternoon for additional drills."
Hearing this, Marcus's face became visibly pale. The enthusiasm that had lit his eyes moments ago vanished completely, replaced by something that looked suspiciously like existential dread. It was almost as if all hope had drained from his life in an instant.
Elric was suddenly very confident that this knight would willingly take a knife to his neck every single day before enduring whatever Roy's "afternoon training" entailed.
"Roy, don't blame him," Elric interjected quickly. "I forced him to take me outside."
"Young lord, please don't make excuses for him," Roy replied without missing a beat. "I gave him very specific instructions to follow. And it's not like someone put a knife to his neck."
"He kind of did—" Marcus started to explain, hope flickering briefly in his expression.
But Roy immediately interrupted him, turning his attention fully to Elric. "And Lord Elric, what exactly do you think you're doing, running around just after recovering? I think you have too much energy. Do you want to join my afternoon training sessions too?"
Elric immediately shut his mouth. He didn't know what this "afternoon training" was, but judging by Marcus's reaction, it definitely didn't sound pleasant.
"Good," Roy said, apparently satisfied with the prince's sudden silence. "Now please return to your room. I'll inform the physician that you've woken up."
Marcus shot Elric a look of profound betrayal as the guards escorted them back inside, but Elric deliberately avoided eye contact. Self-preservation came first.
Later, while lying on a familiar bed in what was apparently his actual chamber—not the golden isolation room—Elric's eyes darted around, carefully observing the space where he'd supposedly spent sixteen years of his life.
It was a little weird, if he was being honest with himself. If someone asked him about the room's layout, he could describe every detail effortlessly—the position of the furniture, the paintings on the walls, the view from the window, even which floorboards creaked when stepped on. But if he had to navigate through it in complete darkness, he probably couldn't manage it.
It was almost like instead of actually living in this room, he'd seen photographs of it countless times. He knew what it looked like, but not how it felt to inhabit it.
His memory of this world was like that throughout. Almost like watching a movie rather than living through experiences. He knew what had happened, when it had happened, and objectively how the previous Prince Elric had felt about it. But there was a strange detachment, as if he were viewing someone else's life through a screen rather than remembering his own experiences.
It was really hard to describe, so he stopped thinking about the implications and focused on what mattered.
The physician had already left after checking him over. Everything was fine with his body, apparently. The healing blessing had done its work perfectly, leaving no lasting damage from the assassination attempt. He'd been told to rest for another day or two just to be sure, but otherwise he was cleared for normal activities.
Since he was being forced to stay in bed anyway, Elric decided to use the time productively. He'd organize his inherited memories properly and start making actual plans. From tomorrow, he could begin his real investigation into mana and potential cures for his mother's condition.
But after sorting through his memories more carefully, he felt genuinely speechless.
If he had to say the memories were useless, that wouldn't be quite right. He had plenty of common knowledge that he needed to function in this world—basic etiquette, how the castle operated, the names and faces of important people, general cultural information. But to say they were useful was complete nonsense when it came to anything substantive.
You're a prince, for Christ's sake! What the hell do you mean you don't even know what's outside the castle?
The previous Prince Elric could be described, in modern language, as a complete shut-in. After his parents died when he was young—killed during some kind of expedition, the exact details were hazy—he'd just been hanging around the castle waiting for death. Literally. The boy had been passively suicidal, going through the motions of life without any real engagement or interest.
Let alone knowing about the wider world, he barely knew what was going on in his own kingdom.
If anything went even slightly wrong at this point, Elric would be killed before he even understood what was happening. He was essentially a baby walking around a marketplace with a golden brick, completely vulnerable to anyone who wanted to take advantage.
But fortunately, his parents hadn't only left him that golden brick. They'd also left him an AK-47 to protect it, metaphorically speaking.
Ronga. The Head Knight.
The generational wealth and power of the kingdom had been carefully protected by Ronga all this time, preventing it from being lost to the previous prince's incompetence or apathy. The man had essentially been running the kingdom while maintaining the fiction that Prince Elric was in charge.
Which brought Elric to another concern that was nagging at him.
The assassin, was it sent by outside people?
According to the fragmented memories, the young prince had welcomed them enthusiastically when they'd first arrived. Everyone had seemed friendly, diplomatic, interested in establishing positive relations.
But history had taught many lessons about what happened when an advanced civilization discovered another civilization that wasn't as advanced as them. It rarely led to good endings for the less developed society. Maybe he was thinking too much, being paranoid because of his modern Earth perspective. They had seemed friendly enough in the memories.
But he needed to talk to Ronga about this. Get the Head Knight's assessment of the situation, understand the political dynamics at play.
Which brought up another problem: Ronga had suddenly left on some kind of expedition, saying he needed to do something urgent. The timing seemed suspicious, right Before an assassination attempt on the prince.
Was he being leads away?
Too many questions, not enough answers.
Elric rubbed his temples, feeling the beginning of a headache forming. The memories helped, but they also created new problems. Every piece of information raised three new questions.