Chapter 2
The Boy Who Remembered Too Much
It was the day I turned seven years old.
The sun hung high over the Bloodhart family gardens, its golden light weaving through crystal-veined leaves that shimmered with latent mana. Ancient roses bloomed in impossible colors, their petals humming with faint protective wards. I was on my favorite horse—Storm, a black stallion whose mane sparked with tiny lightning motes—galloping between the flowerbeds like I owned the floating sky-isles above. Laughter bubbled out of me as the wind, scented with moonflower nectar, whipped through my hair. For one perfect moment, I was just a normal noble boy, the fourth son of Duke Aldric Bloodhart, carefree and alive beneath the twin moons that watched over our realm.
Then my foot slipped in the stirrup.
The world tilted violently. Hooves thundered too close, stirring up motes of wild earth mana. Pain exploded across my skull as I slammed into the ground, and everything went black.
When I woke, chaos had swallowed the mansion.
Servants shouted spells of alarm, maids wept while channeling soothing light orbs, and royal healers rushed through the halls with glowing elixirs distilled from starlit herbs. I could hear my mother's voice somewhere in the distance, high and frantic: "My baby—someone fetch the duke! Lucas is hurt!" Footsteps pounded like war drums on marble floors inlaid with protective sigils. Strong arms lifted me onto a floating stretcher woven from wind-silk, and I was carried back inside the castle in a blur of worried faces and whispered prayers to the Eternal Veil.
But I wasn't really there.
A flood of memories slammed into my head—brighter, sharper, and completely impossible.
I wasn't from this world of floating academies, mana storms, and ancient pacts with the gods.
On Earth I had been nothing special: an orphan bouncing between foster homes, scraping by with cheap novels and late-night reading under a flickering bulb. No family. No mana. No destiny. Just me, a scrawny kid who loved stories.
One story in particular.
The novel was called *Crimson Bonds: Seven Cursed Villainesses and the Doomed Heroine*. It was a dark yuri tale set in this very realm. Seven beautiful, tragic girls had been born with ancient, invisible curses—twisted magics from a long-forgotten war between the gods and the void. Nobody knew the curses existed. Not their families. Not the royal mages. Not even the girls themselves at first. The curses simply made them… wrong. Unnatural. Their powers flickered wrongly, their emotions bled into the world like poison, and misfortune followed them like shadows.
Their families despised them for it. Tortured them in secret—locking them in mana-suppressing dungeons, whipping them with enchanted lashes that left scars which never healed right, starving them of affection while whispering that they were "cursed blood" that shamed the house. The girls grew to loathe the entire world, a seething hatred that the curses only fed. They became monsters of obsession and destruction.
But there was one exception: the heroine. The only soul the curses could not touch. Her pure, untainted light drew the seven villainesses like moths to a sacred flame. In the original story they all became violently obsessed with her—willing to burn kingdoms, slaughter armies, and tear apart reality itself just to possess her. Anything to have the one person who made the pain stop.
I knew this world.
I *was* in this world.
I was Lucas Bloodhart—the fourth son of the Bloodhart Duchy, a mid-tier villain who existed only to die. In the original plot, one of the seven villainesses would snap in jealous rage and slaughter me before the heroine even arrived.
Sweat broke out across my forehead despite the cool, mana-infused castle air.
But worse than my own death flag was the bigger picture.
This world was already heading toward complete doom.
Wars had already begun on the northern and eastern borders—demonic incursions pouring from rifts in the Veil, monster tides summoned by void cults, and rival kingdoms tearing each other apart with forbidden spell-artillery. The "Last Wall," a colossal fortress of living crystal and eternal runes where the final defense of humanity stood, was already under constant siege. Every able-bodied person—commoner or noble—would eventually be conscripted to fight there. Even students at the Royal Academy were not exempt. Once you graduated, or even during special emergency deployments while still enrolled, you were sent straight to the Wall. Most never came back. The novel's "happy ending" had been a fragile illusion; the heroine only delayed the inevitable collapse.
*What the hell do I do? I'm seven! I can't fight at the Last Wall!*
The door to the healing chamber creaked open.
There stood my father.
Duke Aldric Bloodhart filled the doorway like a shadow given life—tall, broad-shouldered, silver hair streaked with the first touches of age, and eyes like frozen steel. His face was carved from granite.
"Are you okay, Lucas?" His voice was low, almost gentle beneath the ice.
I managed a weak nod.
He studied me for a long moment, then turned as if to leave. Halfway out he paused.
"Lucas."
"Yes, Father?"
His voice dropped colder. "Select some houses you would like to marry into. I want you to find yourself a fiancée before tomorrow. Send letters to whichever noble families you choose. If even one accepts, it will be good."
I blinked. "O-okay, Father."
He added softly, "You scared us today. Don't do it again." The door clicked shut.
Once the healers left me alone, I sat at the small desk in my room. A fresh sheet of white parchment waited, glowing faintly with the family crest's embedded anti-forgery runes. I dipped my quill in ink that shimmered like liquid starlight and wrote quickly—just the names—so I wouldn't forget before the memories faded.
**Aeloria Nightwind**
**Selena Starfall**
**Lyrina Frostbloom**
**Lilith Ravenwood**
**Elara Shadowveil**
**Mirael Thornwood**
**Vespera Moonveil**
My stomach growled. The names were safely written. I could copy them onto proper letters tomorrow. For now, food sounded like the only good idea.
I headed down to the dining hall, leaving the sheet lying openly on the desk.
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I returned an hour later, belly full of mana-infused roast and spiced nectar-wine. The room was quiet.
The white sheet with the seven names was gone.
In its place sat a stack of seven elegant, sealed letters—each addressed to one of the noble houses, each bearing the Bloodhart family crest and the formal phrasing of a marriage proposal. My handwriting had been neatly copied onto fine parchment, polished with official language and sealed with droplets of enchanted wax that shimmered like captured moonlight.
Before I could panic, the door opened softly.
Old butler Reginald stood there, bowing deeply with a rare look of admiration in his eyes.
"Young Master Lucas," he said, voice warm with pride, "I took the liberty of preparing and dispatching the letters while you were at dinner. Seven excellent choices. The wording was a bit… enthusiastic, but I refined it beautifully. Your ambition is inspiring even at such a tender age. Proposing to all seven at once shows true foresight for the family's future in these troubled times."
He smiled. "The messengers have already left on their sky-steeds. We should receive replies within days. If even one accepts, it will be good—as His Grace commanded. But seven? The duke will be most pleased."
I stood frozen for a moment.
Then a slow grin spread across my face.
*Well… it's also good the letters are gone.*
Who in their right minds would marry the fourth waste son of Bloodhart? The one who hadn't even awakened his bloodline yet? The one everyone whispered was a mana-less disappointment, a spare heir with no spark of the family's legendary power?
I scoffed softly, the sound echoing in the quiet room.
Reginald bowed again and left, still glowing with pride.
I flopped onto the bed, small body sinking into the enchanted silk sheets that adjusted to my warmth. The weight of the doomed world and my accidental blunder felt strangely light now.
*Well… let's wait for the replies.*
I closed my eyes, letting the twin moons' silver glow filter through the crystal panes above.
*How did it come to this?*
A normal boy from Earth, reincarnated into a death-flag villain, now accidentally sending marriage proposals to seven cursed villainesses—just so I could try to save them, save the world from the Last Wall, and maybe, just maybe, survive long enough to have a normal happy life afterward.
Little did I know how tightly those accidental bonds would wrap around all our hearts.
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**End of Chapter 2**
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