"For now… I am Claus Bloodfall."
Knock knock.
"Sir Claus, we've come to assist you with your bath."
"You may come in, but I don't require help."
The door creaked open. Three young maids stepped in, dressed in black gowns with crisp white aprons. They appeared to be in their early twenties. One carried a basin filled with warm water and a few crystal vials containing fragrant bath oils. Another held folded towels in her arms. The third quietly opened the wardrobe, revealing dozens of suits in various colors, then stood by in silence, waiting patiently.
After finishing his bath, the maids bowed and exited the room without a word.
Claus sat down at his desk, dressed in a white shirt that hung loosely on his still-fragile frame and black trousers held in place by a dark belt. His long golden hair was tied neatly behind his head. He sat with his legs crossed, gazing out the window as the soft breeze eased his nerves—though it did nothing for the pounding in his skull.
His mind was restless. How? Why?
"What world is this? Why does this body look so much like mine? I've never read of such a case in any grimoire… I need to uncover the truth. And Sandra… I have to find her."
"Sir Claus, may I come in?"
A familiar voice pulled him from his thoughts.
"Yes, Geoffrey."
Geoffrey entered the room, his gloved hands holding a deep red box adorned with golden engravings—clearly the work of a master craftsman.
"I apologize for the intrusion, but your recovery potion is ready."
He opened the box to reveal a glass vial, its surface etched with golden patterns. Inside swirled a thick, pitch-black liquid.
"This is a second-stratum potion, ranked among the highest tier of healing. Its dark color signifies its strength. It won't harm your soul. It will restore your body entirely."
Confusion shadowed Claus's face.
"Second-stratum… high-rank… So this liquid alone can restore me physically? Things are getting stranger by the moment…" he thought.
"Do not worry, sir. I'll be here throughout the process. The manor is on high alert to ensure your safety."
Geoffrey gestured for him to sit on the floor, legs crossed. Without speaking, he uncorked the vial, its top adorned with a crimson gem, and handed it to Claus.
"Drink this, sir."
Claus examined it for a moment, then downed it in one gulp.
Nothing.
No reaction—just a strange, bitter aftertaste on his tongue. He looked to Geoffrey for answers, but the butler merely watched his pocket watch.
"Three… two… one."
A warmth began to rise from deep inside his gut. At first subtle… then stronger… until it became unbearable. Claus tried to speak, but no sound escaped his lips.
Suddenly, agony tore through him.
His bones shattered one by one, followed by his muscles, his flesh, his skin—each fiber of his body broken and then rebuilt in a relentless cycle. Geoffrey stood calmly nearby, unmoved, eyes fixed on the ticking of his watch.
Minutes passed. Then hours.
Claus finally lost consciousness after two unending hours of agony.
His body had been completely destroyed—and completely reborn.
When he awoke, he was in bed. But something had changed. He felt… new. Reforged. The thin, fragile figure from before was gone. In the mirror, he saw a young man in his twenties—handsome, healthy, whole. His scars were gone. The headache had vanished.
"Unbelievable… That potion reconstructed my body to this extent… in so little time? By the gods, where the hell am I?"
He opened his wardrobe and chose a black shirt with golden buttons. Then he stepped into the corridor—a long, elegant hallway lit by ornate golden lamps. The walls were lined with paintings.
One, in particular, caught his eye.
It depicted a woman seated on a grand armchair. Her eyes were sky-blue, her hair spun gold, and a serene smile adorned her noble face. She wore a royal-blue gown fit for a duchess. Standing beside her… was him.
He continued down the hall, admiring the immaculate white walls. At the end, he found a vast staircase. Geoffrey stood waiting at its base.
"I see everything went well, sir."
"Geoffrey… where are we?"
"We are in the Black Rose Manor, sir."
"The Black Rose Manor…?"
Claus descended the stairs into a hall richly decorated with fine antiques, portraits, and vases of elegant black roses. It looked like a banquet chamber fit for royalty.
"I take it you've also forgotten what the Black Rose symbolizes," Geoffrey said in his usual composed tone. "I shall urge the alchemists to hasten the memory potion."
"I'm truly sorry, Geoffrey… My memories are a mess. Honestly, I barely remembered my own name this morning."
"That is… concerning. I must also inform you—Lady Iris's return will be delayed by a month. She's still abroad, far beyond the continent. I've informed her of your recovery. She sends her love."
"I see… I only wish I could recover my memory before she returns. How soon can the potion be ready?"
"The ingredients are difficult to obtain. We estimate it will take three months. That is, in part, due to the upcoming Duchy Gathering."
"Three months… That's a long time. And this Duchy Gathering—what is it, exactly?"
"A grand ball held every five years, bringing together the empire's great houses. This year, we are the hosts."
"I assume it's not just wine and dancing among aristocrats?"
"Far from it, sir. It is a battlefield—disguised as festivity. A war of politics and power. After the Grand Duke's death, House Bloodfall nearly lost its standing. It was Lady Iris who brought us back from the brink. And this year, sir… all eyes are on you."
"And what can an amnesiac like me possibly contribute? I can't even remember where I am," Claus replied with a touch of sarcasm.
"It is your duty to relearn what you've forgotten. I will summon the capital's finest tutor. She will guide you. Lady Iris will personally brief you on the family's position."
Geoffrey motioned for him to follow. They reached a large white door at the end of the crimson carpeted corridor.
He opened it.
Inside was a vast library. Shelves towered to the ceiling, filled with books, scrolls, manuscripts. At the far end stood a grand brown desk, etched with a sigil—a black rose with three thorns piercing a golden shield. Upon the desk lay open tomes, blank pages, and a stylus made of a material Claus didn't recognize.
"For now, I recommend catching up."
Geoffrey bowed.
"This library holds all the knowledge of House Black Rose. Some archives date back to the Mythic Era. Take your time to study them thoroughly. I shall leave you to it, sir."
He quietly closed the door behind him.