As they were strangers to him, they should have meant nothing. Or at least, that's what he told himself.
His mother's warmth should have felt foreign, her embrace a lie. Yet, this body—this life—ached for it. A contradiction he could not explain. He shouldn't feel this way. So why did he?
"Vael, come," the Viscount said, his voice gruff yet oddly tender. "You must be exhausted. You've been through so much."
Vael nodded mutely, allowing himself to be led inside the manor. But he could feel the weight of their eyes—watching, analyzing, judging. His family may have embraced him without question, but the others... they did not share the same sentiment.
Servants moved cautiously, their expressions carefully schooled into neutrality, yet he caught the whispers—the stolen glances filled with doubt, wariness, and, in some, outright disdain. He was not just the long-lost heir; he was the disgrace that had dragged House Seraphis into ruin.
The Seraphis estate mirrored its family—a noble house on the verge of collapse. Grand chandeliers hung overhead, dulled by dust. Portraits of forgotten ancestors lined the walls, their once-proud expressions now carrying a silent question: Are you worthy?
"I know you must be hungry," the Viscountess said, her voice soft but edged with uncertainty. "We'll have a meal prepared at once. You need your strength."
He nodded absently. Strength. Yes, he needed that—but not in the way they assumed. He was exhausted, not from travel or hardship, but from the weight of maintaining this mask. Of playing the role of Vael Seraphis.
Stopping before a grand portrait, he studied the face of a man with sharp features and piercing eyes. The plaque read: Viscount Seraphis, Founder of the House.
Vael looked at the painting. He saw not a noble patriarch, but a legacy in decline.
This is what I've inherited, he thought bitterly. A ruined house. A name that no longer holds weight.
"Vael, what are you thinking?" His mother's voice was gentle, probing.
He turned, forcing a smile. "Nothing, Mother. Just... thinking about the past few days."
The Viscountess seemed satisfied with his answer, but her eyes betrayed her worry. She was watching him carefully.
"I'm just glad you're back," she whispered, as if afraid the moment might shatter.
"Yes, I'm home, Mother," he said softly.
But even as the words left his lips, he knew they were a lie.
—
Dinner was an awkward affair.
Seated with his family, he could feel their love, their relief. The original Vael had never cared for them, yet they still welcomed him with open arms. How blind had he been? How much of a fool?
As he recalled the memories, bitterness filled him.
The past Vael had been a selfish, arrogant coward—so consumed by his own self-loathing that he had turned his back on those who loved him. He despised his family not because they had wronged him, but because he could not face them, because he could not stand himself. He had run away, abandoning his responsibilities, leaving the estate to rot.
"What a pathetic fool the previous Vael was," he thought.
And now, he was left to clean up the mess.
The warmth of the meal, the quiet laughter, the way his mother's eyes softened when she looked at him—it was all so foreign, so unlike anything he had ever known. In his past life, he had eaten alone or with friends. Never with family. The unfamiliarity of it made him uncomfortable... yet there was something about it that stirred within him.
He wasn't sure if he loved them. Not yet. But he wanted to see them smile like this always.
And so, he made his decision.
He would restore House Seraphis. Make it wealthier, stronger than ever before. He would use his knowledge, his skills, his power to reshape his fate.
Even if he did not yet feel like their son, but small part of him believed that one day, he might.
—
Once inside his room, he exhaled deeply. Finally, he was alone.
The manor was a monument to past grandeur, now a shell of what it once was. And the fault lay with the previous Vael. His greed, his mismanagement, his selfishness. He had squandered his family's fortune, driven away the loyal, and left behind only vultures.
And now, it was his problem to fix.
Standing before the mirror, he studied his reflection. The face staring back wasn't his, yet it belonged to him now.
Vael Seraphis. The son of a fallen noble house. A liar. A coward. A deceiver.
And now... him.
His fingers twitched. "Status window."
The translucent screen flickered into view:
────────────────────────────────────
[ STATUS WINDOW ]
────────────────────────────────────
◈ Name: Vael Seraphis [Elias Varn]
◈ Race: Human
◈ Age: 17
◈ Title: Eldest Son of the Fallen Noble Viscount Seraphis Family
◈ Soul Crest: 〚ERROR—MULTIPLE DETECTED〛
◈ Primary Skill: 〚Skill Creation〛
◈ Secondary Skill: 〚Gravity Manipulation〛
◈ Mana Pool: 1000/1000
◈ Physical Strength: [D+]
◈ Magic Affinity: [A+]
◈ Intelligence: [S+]
◈ Status: 〚UNIDENTIFIED ENTITY〛
[ERROR]
The original owner of this body is deceased. Due to an otherworldly soul transmigrating into this vessel, a new unique skill—[Gravity Manipulation]—has been acquired.
────────────────────────────────────
he first clicked the the creation skill and another translucent screen popped up
────────────────────────────────────
[ SKILL – 〚Creation〛 ]
────────────────────────────────────
◈ Rank: B+
Type: Unique Skill
◈ Description: Allows the user to create physical objects from raw mana, shaped by conceptualization, intent, and available resources, following fundamental laws of matter.
────────────────────────────────────
◈ Sub Skill:
◇ Basic Manifestation → Can create simple objects (tools, weapons, raw materials) with moderate mana expenditure.
[new sub-skill can be learned as his mana pool expands.]
────────────────────────────────────
A slow smirk formed on his lips. "So, are you saying I can create anything as long as I have understanding and a large mana pool? Is that it?"
he then clicked the gravity manipulation skill and another translucent screen popped up
────────────────────────────────────
[ SKILL – 〚Gravity Manipulation〛 ]
────────────────────────────────────
◈ Rank: S+[locked] F+[based on the understanding of gravity and gravitation force you can unlock it to max]
◈ Type: Forbidden Skill (Modern World Technology-based)
◈ Description: A gravity manipulation skill based on modern physics, allowing the user to influence gravitational forces with precision. This unique skill, foreign to this world, allows the user to generate gravitational anomalies, can even affect the environment and living beings on an unprecedented scale.
────────────────────────────────────
◈ Sub-Skills:
◇ Weight Shift → Grants the ability to manipulate objects within a 10-meter radius, allowing for basic levitation.
◇ Gravitational Pressure Dominance → Enables the user to exert controlled gravitational pressure on any object or area within a 10-meter radius.
[The user gradually unlocks more sub skills as his mana pool expands.]
────────────────────────────────────
He couldn't believe it—an S+ level skill. But it was locked, and the description stated that the deeper his understanding of gravity and gravitational force, the more ranks he could unlock until reaching the maximum.
He already possessed complete knowledge of gravitational force and everything related to it, allowing him to unlock the skill's rank to S+ immediately.
Without hesitation, he clicked the rank, and it was fully unlocked.
────────────────────────────────────
[Gravity Manipulation unlocked to max]
────────────────────────────────────
"What... what... so am I overpowered from the start, like those isekai protagonists?" he mutters, a smirk tugging at his lips as the absurdity of the situation hits him.
For a moment, he feels it—the urge, that ridiculous, cliché moment where he should lower his head, place a hand over his face, and let out that slow, ominous chuckle. The kind that echoes with menace. The kind the overpowered protagonists always do when they realize their strength.
"Mwahaha, I am gonna be unstoppable!"
Mwahaha...
He stops midway, sighs, and mutters, "Wait... this is way too cringe."
His fingers twitch. He takes a breath.
"Tch." He clicks his tongue, shaking his head. "Yeah, that really won't suit me."
Then he grins.
Not the exaggerated, theatrical grin of a villain, but something darker, sharper—one that could freeze the blood in your veins. A grin that promises something no one wants to see.
He exhales slowly, and a laugh slips from him—low, guttural, and dripping with malice. It doesn't explode. It doesn't need to. It slides into the air, filling every inch of the room with a quiet, suffocating certainty.
"Ah... haha... heh."
He wasn't just Vael Seraphis. He realized he was something beyond the limits of this reality.
And he intended to make full use of it. In this life, he didn't need to obey the rules of his previous world, nor did he have to bow to powerful people. He would become strong—stronger than anyone.
In his old world, he had been forced to follow the script, limited by circumstances and others' expectations. But in this world, he was an anomaly. He had the potential to be absolute.
A smirk played at his lips.
"I won't be reckless. I won't be impulsive. I won't throw away my chances." His voice was quiet, but resolute. "I'll build myself up, step by step. And this estate... I'll make it an untouchable powerhouse."
But first, he had to play his role.
Before anything else, he needed to clear his name. Make people believe in him again. Make them trust him. Then, only then, can he set the pieces in motion.
"Trust, huh?" He scoffed. "What a pain."
But it was necessary. If they saw him as a fool, a good for nothing, a weakling, or worse, a traitor, then he wouldn't get anywhere.
Tomorrow, he would begin gathering information. He needed to understand everything—the state of this estate, its wealth, its power, its weaknesses.
"Who are my allies? My enemies? Just how strong is House Seraphis now?"
He exhaled, running a hand through his hair.
"I need to know everything."
But for now, he would rest.
_
Elias Varn was dead.
Vael Seraphis had been born anew.
And this was only the beginning...