Sam opened his eyes. The first thing he noticed was the silence. It was heavy, unlike the noisy streets of his past life. He found himself lying on a soft bed, the sheets made of a material smoother than anything he had ever owned. The room was styled like something from a medieval era, filled with heavy wooden furniture that smelled of polished oak. When he looked up, he saw a high ceiling with intricate dragon patterns drawn across it, painted in gold and deep red.
Sam went blank for a moment. His heart beat faster as confusion clouded his mind. "Where am I? Whose room is this? Am I really reborn in a medieval fantasy world? Looks like that statue didn't lie to me. But it is still hard to believe... I only read about this in books and novels."
He took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart. The air smelled of lavender and old wood. Sam tried to walk. His legs felt lighter than he remembered, stronger yet unfamiliar. He stood in front of a large mirror framed in silver and stared. The reflection shocked him. He looked young—in the body of a child, perhaps sixteen or seventeen years old. He had silver hair that fell softly over his forehead, dark green eyes that seemed to glow, and skin as white as snow. It was an appearance that would make him stand out in any crowd, far too beautiful for a ordinary boy.
Before being reborn, he was only an average-looking, hardworking man in his thirties. He had married someone he truly loved and had a daughter with her. That image couldn't fade from his mind: those cherry-like lips, skin white as jade, silky dark hair, and warm brown eyes. She looked like a model, yet she had married him—a man who was not rich, not handsome, just an ordinary but simple man. He remembered the feeling of his daughter's small hand in his, the promise of the park he never got to keep.
"Remembering those times will only hurt more," Sam whispered to himself, his voice sounding younger than he expected. He clenched his fists. "I need to check if there is someone here to tell me about this body. Like I read in novels... maybe the memories are here."
He walked towards the door. Behind it lay a world he had never seen, one he never knew existed. He stepped into a long hallway that looked like a royal palace. The floor was made of cold marble, echoing his footsteps. Flower pots were placed near the tall windows, letting sunlight stream in and dance on the walls. "This place is truly as beautiful as that statue stated," he murmured, feeling small in such a grand space.
He moved forward, his hands clenching slightly, showing his determination for this new life. He was ready to face this new world, no matter how strange it was.
Sam arrived at a large dining hall. The smell of roasted meat and fresh bread filled the air. There, two couples and four children were having lunch, speaking softly to each other. The sound of cutlery clinking against plates was the only noise. They completely ignored Sam, as if he didn't exist in the hall. The coldness in the room was heavier than the winter rain from his past life.
Before Sam could ask anything, a child who looked similar to Sam's new body—but younger—spoke up. He didn't even look up from his food.
"Brother samuel , no need to worry about having no magic and aura aptitude," the boy said calmly, a hint of a smile on his lips. It was a mocking smile. "You can live a normal life."
He was mocking Sam for failing the aptitude test—a test that even a person without a bloodline could succeed in, yet Sam had failed. The words stung more than any physical wound.
Sam suddenly received a flood of memories from the original owner of the body. A sharp pain spiked in his head, then faded. His name was Samuel Crimson. He had conducted the aptitude test recently but failed. He didn't have even the lowest level of aptitude, even though he was born in the main family branch of the Crimson Family.
The Crimson Family was one of the Seven Great Clans serving the Emperor who ruled the continent of Valoria, though they were said to be the weakest among the seven. To be a failure in a weak clan was worse than being a failure in a strong one.
Samuel's father was Cris Crimson, and his mother was Luna Crimson. He had two older sisters: the oldest was Elena Crimson, and the second was Aria Crimson. Both possessed aura and special high-ranking aptitudes. They sat silently, not defending him.
Since the aptitude test, the previous owner of this body had received only cold shoulders. Even the youngest brother, who used to look up to him, started to mock him. His presence in this family had grown darker and darker.
Sam could understand that this was a dog-eat-dog world, but how could they treat their own flesh and blood like this? It was cruel, even for a fantasy world.
Sam didn't want to talk. He turned to leave, feeling the weight of their judgment on his back. But before he could go to another place, his father spoke without looking up from his plate. His voice was deep and commanded authority.
"samuel , you will be attending the academy next month. It all depends on you whether you can get into that academy or not. The name of the academy is Zenith Imperial Academy."
After hearing the name, samuel got shocked. He stopped at the door. "Dad, you told me you were going to give the seat of Zenith Imperial Academy to me next year."Ryan asked his dad
"That is not for you to decide, Ryan. It's my order. Your grandmother and grandfather also agree with me. It all depends on Samuel. If he can't get admitted, you will get the seat naturally," Cris said coldly. His words were final, like a judge passing a sentence.
Ryan fell silent hearing this. Both grandparents were on the demon battlefield and could not be approached. Even his father, Cris, couldn't defy their orders easily, but in this case, he was enforcing them without mercy.
Sam nodded and left the room without eating anything. His stomach growled, but he had no appetite. The air inside the mansion felt suffocating.
He moved towards the gardens. He needed air. The evening breeze was cool against his face, calming his angry thoughts. As he walked, he saw a weak light glowing in the distance within the garden, visible through the window. It pulsed faintly, calling to him. It wasn't like the sunlight or the lamps; it was something ancient, something waiting just for him.