The third son of Lord Tolma was widely considered a useless waste of nobility.
He was asleep in his room at Tulgan Castle—the domain of Lord Cabes, his uncle.
And then, with a gasp, he woke up. Tears streamed down his face.
"Empress!" he cried out, his voice hoarse. He clutched his throat. It wasn't cut. He could breathe. There was no blood. No collapsing dynasty. No flames. No screams. No battlefield.
What she was saying ther—
"Young master! Are you okay? Why are you crying?" asked a familiar voice beside him.
He turned, heart thudding. Fiora.
His maid. His friend. His only light in those darker years.
But… Fiora was supposed to be dead.
This was wrong. This was impossible.
"You... how are you alive?" he asked, breath shaking.
Fiora blinked, tilting her head. "I'm afraid I don't understand, my lord."
He looked around. The stonework, the paintings, the soft flickering of old torches—this was definitely his room in Tulgan Castle.
But Tulgan had fallen.
His uncle had betrayed them.
Everyone had died.
"Fiora," he said, voice sharp. "How old am I?"
"You're eighteen, my lo—Ow! Please, you're hurting me!" she cried as he grabbed her arms.
Eighteen?
That was before it all happened. Before the betrayal. Before the war.
Before he lost everything.
This wasn't a dream. Or if it was—it didn't matter.
"I can stop it." he whispered. "I can end this now."
He burst out of the room.
"Young master, wait—!" Fiora called out, but he was already racing down the tower stairs toward the Lords' Hall.
Two guards blocked the entrance. "My lord, you cannot enter—"
But he didn't slow down. In one fluid movement, he disarmed a guard, caught the falling sparrowblade mid-spin, and shoved past them like a man possessed.
Inside, Lord Cabes was mid-argument with the court counselors.
He barely had time to turn before the sparrowblade pierced his throat.
Dead silence.
No one moved. No one spoke. The only sound was Tylum's ragged breathing, the blade still gripped in his shaking hands.
He had done it.
The traitor was dead.
The man who caused his empire to collapse... gone in an instant.
His lover. His soldiers. His friends. His family. All avenged.
He stared at his uncle's body, but something gnawed at him.
Why... did it feel so lackluster?
Should he have tortured him first? Made him suffer?
No. No risks. His loved ones came first. Always.
He smiled faintly.
"Now… Empress. You can finally live a life in peace."
But then came the screaming.
Guards flooded the room. The noble council retreated in terror.
"You are under arrest for killing a family member, your uncle!" the commander barked. "The heavens will not overlook this! Restrain him—now!"
He didn't resist.
There was nothing left for him to do.
No future. No purpose. His hands were stained, but his heart was light.
"I know I can't erase your pain," he murmured, pulling the sparrowblade up again. "But I stopped it from happening again. That's enough for me."
The tip hovered near his throat.
And time froze.
---
[WTF ARE YOU DOING?]
He couldn't move.
Everything—guards, wind, sound—stopped.
Only the words floated, stark white against the frozen world.
[THIS CHAPTER WAS SUPPOSED TO BE YOUR SETUP ARC AND YOU'RE TRYING TO KILL YOURSELF ALREADY?! ARE YOU TRYING TO DELETE THE NOVEL?!]
What the hell?
He clenched his fists. The voice was loud. Inside his mind and somehow also outside of it.
Chapter? Setup arc? Novel?
[At least Laum was entertaining. You're just... ugh. You stab a guy and then kill yourself? That's your big arc? Really?]
Just let me die in peace whoever you are.
[...]
[Unbelievable. You're the first MC to call me annoying. You f* piece of s*. I will end you, resurrect you, then break every bone in your body one by one—]
Hey, talking black wall, I can still read all this, you know?
[FRICKING HELL. Thought mode is on. Dammit.]
[Nevermind. I will give you a deal. Here it is, my idea to save your setup arc:]
[Stick close to Laum—my actual protagonist. Troll him. Mock him. Screw with him for the next ten years—or a few hundred chapters. Outshine him, if you can.]
[And if you sincerely try to be a better mc, you'll get your reward. I'll reunite you with your empress. Eternal peace, soulmates forever, blah blah blah. The full romance package.]
He stayed silent for a moment. Then, he looked up.
"If I can be with her again... then yes."
[You agree to be my tool?]
"I'll do anything to see her smile again. But listen carefully. If you harm those under my protection—my friends, my people—I'll burn this 'novel' to the ground. You, your story, all of it."
[Hehehehehe... ANYTHING, you said. Deal's sealed.]
[But disobey me... and I will revoke it. You belong to me now.]
The world began to twist. Light bled through shadows. His surroundings morphed.
Here we go again.
"I hope I don't regret this..." he whispered.