The wind moved differently here.
Arthur Frederick stood still, letting it brush against his skin. Scents of polished wood, stone walls, and distant incense filled the air. This wasn't a battlefield. This wasn't fire and blood.
This was… a room.
His room.
His eyes roamed the clean walls, the neatly arranged bed, the wooden desk, the window overlooking a vast courtyard. Beyond it, towering structures rose, elegant and imposing.
An academy.
Right.
The memories settled—not from past lives, but from this one.
Arthur Frederick. A commoner. A nobody.
And yet… here he was.
Fragments returned, sharper this time.
A road. A carriage under attack.
A girl—terrified, surrounded.
And him… stepping in.
Violence. Fast. Efficient. Unthinking.
I saved her.
The daughter of someone important.
Very important.
The Headmaster.
That single act had changed everything.
An invitation. A place in the most prestigious academy in Alora—an institution meant only for nobles.
And somehow… he got in.
Arthur exhaled slowly.
So that's how I ended up here…
But the room felt… disturbed.
A chair knocked over.
The air thick with tension.
Then it hit him.
Another memory. Clear this time.
Someone standing over him, mocking. A noble. Arrogant. Looking down.
"Trash doesn't belong here."
Arthur's expression darkened.
Yeah… I remember.
The fight.
Short. Quick. Clean. Brutal enough to make a point.
And then—everything came back.
Arthur pressed his hand lightly against his head.
Fire.
Screams.
Betrayal.
Death. Twice.
His breathing steadied.
But his eyes… they were no longer the same.
"I died… twice."
A faint flicker appeared at the edge of his vision.
He didn't react. He watched.
A translucent interface formed—unstable, glitching. Symbols broke and reformed as if reality itself couldn't process him. Then—it disappeared.
"…Still the same."
The System can't read me. Not fully. Not correctly.
He clenched his fist. Shadows flickered around his fingers—subtle, but real. Controlled. Not given. Not restricted. Just… his.
A slow breath escaped him.
An academy for nobles… and they let me in.
Outside, distant voices echoed across the courtyard. Students. Nobles. People who had never known real loss. People who thought power was inherited… not earned.
Arthur walked to the window, his reflection staring back.
Same face. Same body. But not the same person.
"I won't make the same mistakes again."
No hesitation. No doubt. Only resolve.
Somewhere beyond the world he could see… something watched. Silent. Patient. Interested.
Arthur turned away from the window. From the past. From weakness.
This life wouldn't end the same way.
In a place where only nobles ruled…
A Misfit had just taken his first step.