Chapter 1 – Fate's Subtle Smile
[System loading complete!]
[Welcome to Life Online! Wishing you success on your climb to the peak of life!]
"System, mind telling me how I'm supposed to reach the peak of life when I'm about to be hanged on the spot?"
"…What's the plan here? Asphyxiation Play?"
"Well, that's certainly… a lively start."
Calvin had no idea how he ended up here.
The last thing he remembered was working overtime until midnight, dragging himself home, collapsing onto his bed—then one blink later, he was here.
Now, not only were strange glowing words hovering in front of him, but right beside him hung a corpse—swaying gently from a noose, its entire body covered in crows.
The body belonged to a plump, middle-aged woman with gray hair, long dead.
Her lips, eyes, and half her cheeks had been pecked clean, exposing a row of crimson-stained teeth twisted into a grotesque grin.
A nauseating stench filled the air—
The scent of death.
Before Calvin could even react, another fat, mud-covered man reeking of alcohol was being dragged forward. Two soldiers in red-plumed lion-helmed armor shoved his head into a noose and yanked the rope tight.
The man kicked, twitched, and went still.
Right before Calvin's eyes.
"What the hell is this place?"
"Did I really transmigrate?"
"And are they seriously going to hang me too?!"
The reek of blood and decay stung his nose. Watching the fat man's tongue loll out as his eyes rolled back, Calvin's panic nearly made him cry.
Because after hanging that poor man, the two soldiers turned their attention toward him.
One of them reached out a massive hand and pinned him down.
Calvin couldn't even struggle—his small, frail body had no strength to resist.
That iron grip on his shoulder made him gasp in pain. It felt like his bones were about to snap.
Just as he thought he was next to hang, a cold, steady voice cut through the air.
"What's going on here?"
Everyone froze. The soldiers turned their heads.
A rider on horseback approached—a tall man dressed in a crimson velvet coat trimmed with swan feathers, golden lions embroidered along the hem. The sunlight glinted off the metal clasp of his cloak as he reined in his horse.
"My lord," one of the soldiers reported, "that fat man, Rolim, was caught stealing a piece of salted ham from Lord Tywin's supply caravan. By your order, he was sentenced to hang—to serve as a lesson for other thieves."
The soldier who had been restraining Calvin immediately bowed his head upon recognizing the newcomer.
The man on horseback was a bit stout, with golden hair that had thinned noticeably on top. His square jaw was soft with flesh, and his neatly trimmed beard framed a face both refined and commanding. His broad shoulders and thick waist spoke of both power and comfort.
After hearing the explanation, the golden-haired man arched a brow and turned his sharp gaze toward the thin boy held down by the Lannister guards.
"And the child?"
"He shared the stolen ham, my lord."
The man frowned slightly, his eyes sweeping up and down, studying the frightened boy who looked up at him in panic.
"What's his name?" asked Kevan Lannister.
"Podrick Payne, my lord," replied the captain of Lord Tywin Lannister's household guard.
"Payne?" Kevan looked mildly surprised. Then, after a pause, he spoke calmly:
"Release him. I'll handle this matter myself."
With that, he swung off his horse and walked forward.
The Lannister guard captain hesitated for only a moment before bowing his head in obedience.
"Yes, my lord."
Just a few short words between nobles — and a life was decided.
Calvin didn't know why he could suddenly understand this foreign language, but from the tone of their conversation, he guessed — probably, maybe, hopefully — he'd just been spared.
He wasn't going to be hanged.
The soldier who had been pressing him down released his grip, only to shove him roughly aside.
Calvin, weak and unsteady after all the struggling, stumbled forward — straight toward the man who had just saved his life. His knees gave out, and he collapsed onto the muddy ground right in front of the red-cloaked, golden-haired nobleman.
The sharp stones beneath his knees dug painfully into his skin, but he knew what he had to do.
He looked up, voice trembling, and stammered out,
"Th-thank you… my lord… thank you…"
Having narrowly escaped death, Calvin awkwardly mimicked the way the surrounding soldiers addressed the noble. The strange words felt unfamiliar on his tongue, yet somehow came out naturally.
Kevan Lannister didn't seem particularly interested in his gratitude. He calmly removed his leather riding gloves, gave a small nod, and said evenly:
"Don't do something foolish like that again. Now get up. Feed my horse some oats and water — and give it a good brushing afterward."
Leaving those words behind, he turned and walked away, stepping into the courtyard and disappearing into the only intact three-story white stone house nearby.
The soldiers who had been about to hang Calvin earlier merely glanced at him once more, then followed their commander back. They stopped at the building's entrance, standing guard beneath a sign that hung over the doorway.
The sign read:
Crossroads Inn
To Calvin's surprise, he could read the strange, twisting script. The moment his eyes touched the letters, their meaning seemed to form naturally in his mind — as if he had always known this language.
Before he could wonder why, a familiar translucent text box suddenly flickered into view at the lower left of his vision:
[Your unexpected encounter has allowed you to brush past death. Fortune smiles upon you — your survival test was successful! You've lived to see another day!]
[You've gained a new life insight: Luck +1]
[New Trait Unlocked: Tenacity]
[Experience +200 EXP]
[Congratulations! You've leveled up!]
[Congratulations! You've leveled up again!]
[...]
The lines of glowing text scrolled upward rapidly — just like the system log from the games of his previous life.
Moments later, they faded away, as if they had never existed.
Calvin swallowed hard, pushed himself up from the muddy ground, and tried to steady his breathing. His whole body ached, his mind spinning in confusion.
He could understand, at least on some level, what had happened — transmigration, a system, a strange fantasy world… he'd read enough novels to recognize the pattern.
But standing here, freshly
spared from death, in a world both alien and brutal — all he truly felt was lost and powerless.
He stood there dazed, mud clinging to his legs, before finally lifting his head to look around.
The surroundings resembled a village — or rather, the ruins of one.
Every house was half-collapsed, charred beams jutted from the ground, and the earth itself was blackened with soot, as though a terrible war had swept through not long ago.
He was inside a small courtyard encircled by a broken white-stone wall. In its center stood the three-story inn with a single white chimney, smoke faintly drifting out.
To the left, a low annex building had been hastily reinforced with wooden stakes among the weeds.
To the right, a thatched stable leaned precariously beside a small stone bell tower.
But what stood out most — and what made Calvin's stomach churn — was the line of gallows not far away, swaying gently in the breeze, each one holding a lifeless body.
The crows' harsh cawing echoed through the air, and the sight of the dangling corpses sent a shiver down his spine. Cold sweat ran down his back.
Still, he knew what he had to do.
He turned around quickly, grabbed the reins of Kevan's mare, and began leading it toward the stable.
There, among the piles of straw and the smell of hay, were several other children — all about the same age as he appeared to be.
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