"Young Master Indivar!? "
"Young Master Indivar!"
"Ahhh… My damn head, it's killing me." Ben groaned, his temples throbbing as if a blacksmith were hammering away at an anvil inside his skull. His vision was blurry, his body heavy. He fumbled around, searching for support, and finally gripped a wooden piece of furniture to pull himself up.
Daylight filtered through the heavy silk curtains, casting golden patterns on the black marble floor. The girls who had accompanied him that night stood at a distance, their wide eyes filled with palpable worry. Their light dresses fluttered with their rapid breathing.
"Don't worry, I'm fine." He waved a weary hand before collapsing onto the edge of the bed.
A collective sigh of relief escaped their lips. If the young master had died after a night with them, their heads wouldn't be the only ones rolling. Their entire families would end up slaughtered.
Then, their faces relaxed, replaced by sugary smiles.
"We'll prepare your bath, young master."
"Wait!"
"Hm?"
"What year is it? And where are we?"
"Young master, you—"
"Just answer... " He cut her off.
"We're in Archduke Klaus Indivar's estate. The year is 356..."
"Right... So I'm Daemon Leen Indivar?"
Ben—no, Daemon—fixed them with questions that sparked a glimmer of skepticism in their eyes. Exchanging furtive glances, they must have wondered if their night of debauchery had seriously damaged his skull.
"Indeed, young master. You're the most talented heir the house has ever seen."
"Okay… You can go now." He sighed, abandoning the idea of getting anything more from them for the moment. No need to raise unnecessary suspicions.
Talented my ass, yeah...
As soon as the door closed, he slumped back, eyes fixed on the ceiling adorned with frescoes depicting ancient battles.
So, I've really transmigrated into this crappy game.
Ben—now Daemon Leen Indivar—wrapped himself in a towel before pushing open the door leading to the corridors. The cool castle air whipped his face but did nothing to dispel the chaos in his mind.
He was here. Really here. In a world where dying was as easy as breathing. Not as a hero, no. Not even as a charismatic antagonist. No, he was the second-rate antagonist used to showcase the power of the archdemon Baal. Even if he had plenty of screen time. His future was pretty crappy.
No time to wallow.
In this world, there were only two options: dominate… or die.
"Alright… I need to check a few things."
He snapped his fingers, murmured, even tried whispering like a madman:
"System?"
"...."
"Status?"
Silence.
"Golden Finger?"
Still nothing.
God?… Where's the bastard who transmigrated me? He screamed internally, clenching his fists.
Daemon stood still for a few seconds, watching the servants pass by, bowing automatically whenever their eyes met his. Their lowered eyes, their hushed steps… Everything here breathed absolute obedience.
"Where are the bathrooms?" he asked one of them.
"Follow me, young master…"
He nodded and set off, crossing the sumptuous corridors of Castle Indivar. The walls, a deep red streaked with black veins, were adorned with tapestries depicting hunting and battle scenes. Silver candelabras cast a golden glow on the portraits of ancestors.
And everywhere—on banners, armor, stained glass—the house crest: a bat with spread wings, mouth open to reveal sharp fangs, embroidered in black thread on a scarlet background.
Nice. Nothing like a vampiric emblem to remind everyone you're a family of predators.
He crossed his arms.
I need to adapt. Fast.
Because in this world… ignorance was a luxury only the dead and the protagonist could afford.
---
The servants returned for him shortly after. He continued with them without making a fuss, playing the role of the arrogant young noble he was supposed to embody.
Of course, the bathroom was unnecessarily luxurious. Marble basins veined with gold, scented water jets, mosaics… And this was just his private area. The archduke's must be even more extravagant.
Well… Daemon was arrogant and sadistic. I need to maintain that image, especially with my noble appearance.
He stepped into the bathtub, the hot water enveloping him instantly. The two servants began lathering sandalwood-scented soap before washing him with expert movements.
[Daemon's POV]
It's a bit awkward, but it's one of the few moments of relaxation before the shit hits the fan. I should enjoy it…
I was now the grandson of Archduke Klaus Indivar. A monstrous old man, over 150 years old, capable of splitting a mountain with a single sword strike. My father, still awaiting succession, was already a Seventh Tier Swordmaster at just thirty.
And me?
I was just Daemon Leen, the sole heir. My mother died giving birth to me, making me my grandmother's favorite…
That's about all I know about this body.
I lay in the bathtub, trying to enjoy the moment.
I'm so going to die... This thought kept returning.
"I don't have time to rest! I need to find a damn way, damn it!"
So, what did Daemon have special, apart from his family name?
Everyone believed this bastard was a sword genius, mastering the first three forms of Bloody Lotus before sixteen.
Except it was a lie.
His body was far too weak. How could he have mastered the family Art, an A-rank technique? The only S-rank techniques he'd seen in the game were Lucas Von Arcadia's Dark Star Radiation…
The only reason Daemon had survived so long in the story was his intelligence. He was sadistic, sure, but also methodical in his schemes and strategies.
Except I don't have his memories. He was just a regular geek in his old world.
So I've lost his only advantage.
Anyway, even with his intelligence, the only way he'd found to increase his power… was to make a pact with a demon.
I remained silent for a long moment, eyes half-closed.
This loser had nothing… Except a nice dick, I guess.
I sighed as I got out of the bath, still without a solution.
"If only I had a system…"
"What did you say, young master?"
A butler had just entered, holding a clean towel.
"Arhh, damn, you scared me! You should knock."
The butler frowned, surprised.
"I apologize for my clumsiness, young master. But the archduke requests your presence for breakfast."
I sighed again. Another mess. I'd forgotten I had to speak formally as a noble.
At least, in this world, English is the most spoken language.
"Alright, uh… Tell the servants to prepare my favorite outfit."
I took the towel and opened the door.
I wonder why Daemon isn't at the academy? Year 356, he should be in his second year…
"Whatever. I need to find a way to increase my power. With the protagonist and the heroines, this new year won't be a walk in the park." I murmured to myself.