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.
Their expressions somewhere between horror, awe… and something else.
Renald blinked, realizing—too late—what he had just said.
His face smoothed over instantly, slipping into the perfect, unreadable mask of a seasoned servant.
"Understood, young master," he said evenly, bowing just low enough.
Then, without another word, he turned and walked away.
The maids hesitated, each clutching their skirts or aprons like lifelines, before quickly following, their footsteps echoing down the hall.
As the heavy door shut behind them, silence returned.
And then—
Kael let out a low chuckle.
It grew.
Soon he was laughing, deep and unrestrained, collapsing back into his chair with one hand over his face.
"Ahh… gods, their faces…"
He exhaled, breathless.
With a flick of his fingers, he reopened the system panel. The familiar glow washed over his face, casting sharp lines in the dim light.
[Primary Mission: Capture the Duchy]
Kael arched a brow.
"No time limit? Finally, something in this cursed world that isn't in a hurry."
Then his eyes landed on the next line.
[Reward: Rank 4 Spell – 'Crimson Veil']
He stared.Then stared a little longer.
"A… Rank 4 spell?"
From the depths of Kaelion's memories, a single name floated up—ancient, proud, and terrifying.
"Wait a minute… only the headmaster of the Magic Academy has a Rank 4 spell."
He blinked at the glowing text again, just to be sure.
"And now I get one… for free? Just by capturing this duchy? No big deal, right?"
He sighed, rubbing his temples.
"Of course it's not easy. My dear brothers have their claws deep in every corner of the duchy, and Father—bless his eternally-youthful heart—is still kicking and far too alert."
Kael leaned back, drumming his fingers thoughtfully.
"Now, the classic route would be to reveal I can use magic. Gain some awe-struck supporters. Stir the pot, play the noble power struggle game, and take the duchy the 'honorable' way."
He gave a long, slow blink.
"Yes, brilliant. Except for one tiny detail."
A pause. A crooked smile.
"Everyone knows Kaelion Drenlor couldn't light a candle with magic if his life depended on it."
He laughed softly, bitterly.
"And now I'm supposed to show up tossing spells better than the kingdom's prodigies? Sure. That won't raise any questions at all. Not suspicious. Not suspicious at all."
He exhaled slowly, the smile fading into a thoughtful frown.
"Option two…"
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, fingers steepled under his chin.
"Hide in the shadows. Wait for the perfect moment… and just kill them all."
A pause. His head tilted slightly to the side, as if genuinely considering the logistics of multiple murders over morning tea.
"Yeah… actually, not a bad idea," he muttered.
"Remove the competition, claim the title, become the sole heir… simple, elegant, effective."
Then he slouched back in his chair, rubbing his face with both hands.
"Minor hiccup: I don't know any magic."
He let that hang in the air for a beat.
"No spells. No grimoires. No ancient mentors whispering arcane secrets. Just me, a haunted bedroom, and a bunch of traumatized maids."
He stared at the ceiling, blankly.
"Right. Let's shelve mass murder for now."
A long exhale.
"Haaah... I'm sleepy."
His body sagged with the kind of exhaustion only interdimensional hijinks could cause...
"Let's see... body swap with noble brat? Check.
First accidental murder? Check.
Lifetime's worth of deception in one day? Triple check."
He slid under the heavy covers, eyes already fluttering shut.
"Plotted three more deaths… created a coup outline in my head… yeah, just a regular Tuesday."
And with that, he drifted into sleep.
***
The Duke's household was in uproar—not because of Lana's rumored suicide. A maid's death was hardly scandalous enough to shake the foundations of Velmora.
No, the storm was brewing elsewhere.
Word had slipped out. Whispers swirling through the servants' quarters, making their way into the grand halls.
Kael had revealed enough to spark wildfire.
His second brother, Aerik, was now the center of every whispered accusation.
People said Aerik had a hand in Kael's poisoning. That he had tried to kill his own blood to claim the Duchy.
From the lowest scullery maid to the highest-ranking noble, the county buzzed with rumors.
Gossip became certainty.
Letters slipped into pockets. Eyes glanced sideways. Alliances quietly shifted.
Kael sighed, folding the crumpled newspaper and setting it gently aside.
The headlines screamed accusations. The portraits in the hallways seemed to watch him with knowing eyes.
But despite the uproar, Kael himself still didn't know the full truth.
'Which brother had paid the maid to poison me? Really Aerik? Or someone else hiding in the shadows?'
The question lingered, heavy and unanswered.
Kael's gaze drifted toward the window.
Outside, the sky was a dull gray—matching the uncertainty that now settled over the entire Duchy.
Kael sat alone in his room, the muted light from the gray sky filtering through heavy drapes.
The air was thick with silence, broken only by the faint creak of old wood settling.
He ran a hand through his dark hair, voice low, almost to himself.
"Aerik's not even in the county right now..."
That absence had made it easy for kael to pin the blame on him.
"But when he comes back..."
Kael's jaw tightened.
"There will be no avoiding a direct confrontation."
He leaned back against the chair, fingers tapping rhythmically on the armrest.
"Well... I can't remain passive."
His eyes darkened with resolve.
"The system's mission isn't just about surviving."
"It's about capturing the Duchy."