A chime rang sharply in his ears, crisp and unnatural. He froze.
[System Detected.]
[You have fulfilled the hidden condition: "Break the Chains of the Past."]
[Conqueror's System initializing…]
A flicker of golden light danced in the corner of his vision, forming into symbols he instinctively understood.
###
[Conqueror's System]
[Name: Kaelion Drenlor.]
[Title: Certified Treacherous Bastard]
[Race: Human]
[Affiliation: House Drenlor (Kingdom of Velmora)]
[Rank: Noble – 3rd Son of the Duke (Duchy of Velmora)]
[Talents : Horse Riding: (D), Swimming: (E), Swordsmanship: (C) Mana Control: (SSS)]
[Primary Objective: Claim the Duchy !!
Reward: Rank 4 Spell – 'Crimson Veil']
###
Kael blinked.
'A system? Here?'
Well... honestly, he had kind of expected it.
Still, when the glowing panel floated into view, he sighed.
"Of course. Can't transmigrate without a system these days. What am I, a peasant?"
His eyes drifted to the first line.
[Title: Certified Treacherous Bastard]
Kael stared.
"…Excuse me?"
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" he muttered.
"I'm a very honest person." A beat. "Well—Mostly"
Kael sat back down on the edge of the bed, the weight of everything slowly pressing in on him.
The room was no longer quiet.
What had been a still, moonlit sanctuary now trembled with distant motion—soft footsteps in the hall, the hushed clatter of hurried voices.
The kind of unrest that spread through old walls like smoke after a spark.
Kael reached for the mug of water on the nearby table, his fingers only just steady.
The porcelain was cool against his palm, the surface of the water rippling faintly—not from his hand, but from the thrum of movement elsewhere in the house.
They knew.
The scream. The fall.
He took a slow sip, letting the water steady him, then turned his attention to the glowing panel floating in the corner of his vision. The voices beyond the door grew clearer—closer—but he didn't look away.
He took a sip—cool, calming—then turned his attention back to the strange panel hovering in his mind's eye.
[Swimming: E]
He snorted softly. "Yeah… figures. I can float. Barely."
His eyes drifted to the next line.
[Mana Control: SSS]
Silence. Then—
"What the hell?"
He choked mid-sip. Water sprayed from his mouth, splattering across the bed sheets.
He coughed once, wiping his chin, staring at the glowing text as if it might vanish.
"SSS rank? Mana control?" His voice was barely a whisper, like speaking it aloud might snap the illusion in half.
"You've got to be kidding me…"
Then—footsteps.
Kael's head snapped up, eyes narrowing.
'Oh. They're fast.'
He exhaled sharply, already shifting gears.
With the calm efficiency of someone who'd crammed for a test and just spotted the teacher coming, he shoved the mug beneath the damp bedsheet, smearing the remaining water around for effect.
A few rapid blinks. Rubbed his eyes. Bit his cheek. Let the sting water his lashes.
'Cue the tears, Oscar-worthy.'
The door slowly opened.
A figure stepped into the room, silhouetted by the torchlight from the hall.
It was the Duke's personal butler—a man in his fifties with sharp, intelligent eyes and a spine still unbent by age.
His name was Renald, and in Kaelion's memories, he had always been more than a servant.
A watcher. A quiet guardian of the house's darker truths.
Behind him trailed two maids and a younger steward, all pale and tight-lipped, glancing nervously around the room.
"Young master," Renald began, voice steady but laced with urgency,
"Are you—"
He stopped.
His breath caught, the words fading on his tongue.
Kael sat on the edge of the bed, hunched forward, shoulders trembling.
His eyes were 'red and glassy', his cheeks streaked with fresh 'tears'.
The sheets beneath him were soaked, clinging to the frame, as though 'he'd been crying for hours'.
His lips parted in a shallow gasp as if trying to speak and failing.
Renald took a cautious step forward.
"We… we found Lana," he said gently. "She… she fell from the east wing."
Kael flinched—just slightly, just enough. He looked up, his gaze meeting Renald's, wide and unfocused like someone lost in grief.
His voice came out slow, stammering, like he was struggling to make sense of something too big to grasp.
"She… she came in," he whispered, his tone trembling.
"She was crying… said she was wrong… said everything… everything was part of Second Brother's plan…"
He blinked, eyes glassy and confused.
"I… I didn't understand what she meant. She kept saying sorry. Over and over."
Renald stood still, watching carefully, but he said nothing.
Kael looked down, clutching the edge of the damp bedsheet in his fists.
"Then she just… she walked to the window. Said it was all her fault. That she couldn't fix it."
A long pause.
"And then… she jumped."
His voice cracked on the last word. He buried his face in his hands again.
One of the younger maids gasped softly, covering her mouth.
The other looked away, visibly shaken.
Renald's eyes moved subtly—taking in the room. The scattered shards of porcelain on the floor.
The overturned chair.
The bed soaked with tears (with water).
The faint scent of fear…
But when Kael finally looked up again, his expression was that of a boy barely holding himself together.
He seemed so small. So breakable.
Renald's frown deepened.
"Was she… the reason for your condition, young master?"
A murmur rippled among the others—soft, sympathetic, useless.
Kael blinked slowly, his voice low and raw.
"I don't know," he rasped.
The butler gave a slow nod.
"I will handle it, my lord. No one will troub—"
Kael broke into fresh tears before Renald could finish. He hunched forward slightly, one hand carefully pulling the damp sheet over the mug tucked beneath the bed.
His voice trembled, cracking as he forced the words out.
"R-Renald… she… she promised me something…"
Renald stepped forward immediately, voice full of urgency and overcompensating loyalty.
"Young master, don't worry—whatever she promised you, I will see to it myself. Personally. I'll give it to you myself, if I have to."
Kael hesitated. Just enough to sell it.
His lip quivered, his eyes glossy with just the right amount of misery.
"I… I don't know what it was. She always said…"
A pause. He looked down, voice small.
"She always said, 'Just reverse my name, and you'll know.' I don't know what it means but… now she's gone. And who's going to keep that promise?"
Silence.
Complete, confused silence.
The room held its breath.
Then—like a collective divine epiphany—the realization hit them all at once.
Eyes widened.
A maid nearly slipped on the polished floor.
Another clapped a hand over her mouth, barely muffling a gasp.
The youngest footman's ears went red.
And then… all three slowly turned to look at Renald.