Lex led Haru through the marble corridors, his boots echoing lightly against the polished floor. Servants bowed as they passed, though their eyes lingered on Haru longer than they should have — a mixture of awe and unease flickering across their faces.
Finally, they stopped before a heavy oak door at the far end of the east wing.
"Mr. Haru," Lex said, forcing a polite smile, "this will be your room. I hope you rest well."
He bowed quickly, his voice trembling ever so slightly.
"Good night."
Before Haru could respond, Lex turned and all but ran down the hall, his footsteps fading in haste.
Haru pushed the door open and stepped inside.
The room was spacious but simple — a large bed draped in white, a wooden desk by the wall, and a tall window overlooking the training grounds below.
He scanned every corner, instinctively checking for threats. When he was certain there were none, he murmured under his breath, "A calm room… for now."
Walking to the window, he peered outside.
Below, a group of knights and trainees sparred under the fading sun — their movements clumsy, their levels hovering between thirty and forty. Haru watched in silence, emotionless, until his reflection in the glass caught his attention.
He turned to the mirror.
Slowly, he removed his robe, revealing a body marked with scars — each one a reminder of the countless battles he'd survived. His eyes traced them like reading a familiar story, every cut and burn carrying the echo of pain, the sound of steel, and the weight of lives lost.
Memories surged — the endless fields of corpses, the smell of blood, the screams fading into silence. His reflection blurred as his vision grew distant.
"So this is peace," he muttered. "How long will it last?"
He knew the answer.
This calm — the fragile stillness he'd built over the years — would not last. The moment he set foot in this empire, it had already begun to crumble.
Somewhere deep within him, he felt it — the quiet hum of violence waiting to resurface.
He clenched his fists, the faint light glinting off the old scars on his knuckles.
Even with Arthur's Manual guiding him, his sanity had eroded bit by bit. He was once a man from a modern world — twenty-three, smiling, ordinary.
Now, at twenty-seven, all that remained was a shell.
No warmth. No innocence.
Only calm… and cold eyes that no longer feared blood.
Haru took a long breath and turned from the mirror. The night outside grew darker.
He knew — this peace was just a dream before the storm.
The sun had barely risen when Haru stepped out into the training grounds.
The morning air was crisp, mist curling low across the field. Without a word, he began his routine — push-ups, squats, sword swings — his movements precise, measured, and eerily silent.
A few soldiers noticed him from afar, pausing mid-swing. Whispers spread, but no one dared approach. His presence alone was heavy — not in arrogance, but in quiet authority.
Before long, one or two soldiers began imitating his motions.
Then five.
Then ten.
And before the hour was over, nearly the entire training ground had fallen into rhythm with him — their blades rising and falling in unison, following a man who never gave a single order.
The metallic sound of boots and breath filled the air, sharp and disciplined.
Finally, one of the soldiers stepped forward — a young man with sharp features and short dark hair. His armor bore the insignia of a squad captain.
"Good morning," he said with a polite bow. "My name is Zane. I'm the captain of this unit."
Haru paused briefly, glancing at the man.
He looked young — perhaps twenty-two at most — but the calm confidence in his posture spoke of experience beyond his years.
System, scan.
A translucent window appeared before Haru's eyes.
> Name: Zane Bakeman
Level: 70
Haru's eyes narrowed slightly. Another prodigy… just like Seraphina.
Level 70 — Expert Realm in this world. Impressive, for someone his age.
But Haru said nothing. He simply nodded once and turned away, resuming his exercise.
Zane gave an awkward smile, scratching the back of his neck. "You really don't talk much, huh…"
Haru didn't respond. His eyes swept over the nearby forest, distant mountains catching his gaze.
I need to hunt some monsters soon, he thought silently. My body's getting dull.
Zane exhaled softly, watching him walk off.
Even without words, he could feel it — that quiet, dangerous aura that only true warriors carried.
That man… Zane thought. He's not someone you want as an enemy.