Three days later, tired of remaining confined, Lusian decided to explore the castle.
Umber walked so close that he could feel the warmth of his breath: a form of protection... or perhaps surveillance. Behind him walked Miss Monica, Albert's daughter and Sophia's personal assistant. She observed every one of Lusian's movements with quiet patience.
—Are you following me now too, Monica? —Lusian asked with a faint smile.
Monica adjusted her glasses —a subtle, precise movement— before answering.
—It is not following, my lord. It is supervision.
—Supervision?
—The Duchess ordered me to make sure you do not get yourself into trouble again.
—Again? —Lusian raised an eyebrow.— I only died once. I don't think that counts as "trouble."
For the first time, Monica did not answer immediately.
Her eyes remained fixed on him for a moment longer than necessary.
—You are right, my lord —she finally said.— Dying should not be considered an everyday problem.
Lusian felt his smile freeze for an instant. Without replying, he continued his walk through the majestic castle, observing every detail with an almost childish curiosity, like a child discovering a completely new world before his eyes.
The enormous columns, the ancient tapestries, and the weapons displayed along the halls were not merely scenery, as he had seen them countless times in the game.
They were there.
In front of him.
Real.
Tangible.
"This world feels so real... too real," he thought.
Lusian ran his fingers along the carved wood of an ancient bookshelf. In the game, that object had been nothing more than decorative texture, an element of the environment players ignored after a few seconds.
But now he could feel the tiny cracks beneath his fingers, the dust gathered between the carvings.
And he understood something terrifying:
The inhabitants of this world were not characters waiting for a quest.
They had memories.
They had fears.
They could truly die.
The days passed, and Lusian soon faced a problem that pushed him to the edge of desperation.
Despite the countless techniques he remembered from the game, there was one impossible barrier:
He could not feel mana.
He closed his eyes and breathed.
In the game, activating a skill was nothing more than a simple movement.
A click.
An animation.
A number increasing on the screen.
He tried again and again, searching within himself for what everyone described as a current, a vibration, a pulse.
But he found nothing.
Only frustration.
Each failed attempt chipped away at his confidence.
Because in this world...
only the strong survived.
Days later, Sophia decided that leaving the duchy would benefit Lusian's recovery.
A change of scenery, as she explained, would help both his mind and his body.
Their destination was Thruin, a small trading city far from the tensions of nobility.
Lusian expected to find something familiar.
Something similar to the locations he had crossed hundreds of times in the game.
But what he found was completely different.
The streets were overflowing with life.
Merchants called out their goods with rough voices. Stalls overflowed with fruits, spices, and colorful fabrics. The smell of freshly baked bread mixed with medicinal herbs and roasted meat. Wooden houses with sloped roofs and flower-covered balconies looked as if they had been taken from a peaceful painting.
Children ran between carts and horses while adults continued their work without the slightest sign of fear.
It was an ordinary place.
A living place.
And that was what unsettled Lusian the most.
Because he knew another Thruin.
In his memories, that city was not a peaceful trading town.
It was a battlefield.
Collapsed walls.
Buildings reduced to rubble.
Destroyed barricades.
Streets marked by the traces of creatures that had passed through, leaving only death behind.
He had played through that area dozens of times.
He remembered the maps.
The escape routes.
The enemies that appeared among the ruins.
But now, standing before him, there were no monsters.
No corpses.
No destruction.
Only people living their lives.
Lusian looked toward the central plaza and stopped before a stone fountain.
He recognized it immediately.
In the game, that place had been nothing more than a landmark.
A broken structure players passed without stopping while fleeing from higher-level creatures.
Now it stood untouched.
Water flowed gently over the carvings in the stone.
Children played around it, laughing as they tossed coins into the basin.
A little girl closed her eyes, made a wish, and released her coin.
Lusian felt a chill run down his spine.
Because he knew what would happen there.
That little girl laughing beside the fountain...
in a few years, she might no longer exist.
Perhaps her face would become just another forgotten memory among the thousands of names he never had the chance to know.
He lowered his gaze.
In his memories, that same fountain was not surrounded by laughter.
It was covered in blood.
For several seconds, both images existed at once in his mind:
the lively plaza before him...
and the scene of death that only he knew.
He looked down at his hands.
In the game, Thruin had been an area players cleared to obtain rewards, experience, and rare items.
But this was not an area.
It was a home.
And one day...
it would cease to be one.
The question was no longer whether he could prevent the tragedy he knew was coming.
The question was far more terrifying:
The future...
could change.
Lusian continued walking through the plaza, still trying to adjust to the strange sensation of being somewhere he knew so well and yet did not know at all.
In the game, Thruin had been nothing more than a stopping point.
A place where players bought supplies before heading toward the next mission.
But now...
every face belonged to someone.
Every voice belonged to a person.
Umber walked beside him with his usual calm, while the Douglas soldiers followed at a respectful distance.
It did not feel like an escort.
It felt much more like a family walking together.
That difference continued to confuse him.
The citizens did not move away out of fear.
They did not try to attract his attention either.
They simply greeted him.
A merchant placed his fist over his chest.
An elderly woman bowed her head as she passed.
A group of children paused their games for a moment before returning to running through the streets.
It was strange.
In his old world, nobles lived far away from ordinary people.
They were distant figures.
Almost unreachable.
Here, however...
everyone seemed to know him.
Even though he knew none of them.
Then it happened.
An elderly woman stepped out of a small shop carrying a basket full of vegetables. As she descended the entrance step, her foot slipped.
The basket fell.
The fruits scattered in every direction.
—Careful! —Lusian shouted, moving forward instinctively.
However, before he could even bend down, everything had already begun to resolve itself.
A young man picked up an apple.
A soldier lifted the basket.
A merchant moved the animals crossing the street so they would not step on the food.
Even one of the children abandoned his game to chase an orange that had rolled toward the fountain.
Everything happened within a matter of seconds.
When Lusian reached the woman, the basket was already back in her arms.
He stopped.
Watching the scene.
There were no orders.
No instructions.
Nobody told anyone what to do.
They simply...
reacted.
—Thank you for helping her —he said.
The young man who had picked up the apple looked at him with clear confusion.
—Helping her?
—Yes.
The boy looked between the elderly woman and Lusian, as if the question itself made no sense.
—I only did what I was supposed to do, my lord.
Those words made Lusian slightly frown.
They did not sound like obedience.
Nor like an imposed duty.
They sounded...
natural.
The elderly woman adjusted the basket in her arms and smiled kindly.
—I apologize for causing trouble.
—Trouble?
—I made everyone stop what they were doing because of me.
She said it sincerely.
She did not seem embarrassed about falling.
She seemed concerned that she had interrupted everyone else's work.
Lusian looked up.
The blacksmith had already returned to striking the anvil.
The merchant was arranging his goods again.
The child was running back to his friends, laughing.
The plaza returned to its rhythm as if nothing had happened.
As if helping that woman had simply been another part of the day.
Not a sacrifice.
Not an obligation.
Just something natural.
He remained silent for several seconds.
—Monica.
—Yes, my lord?
Lusian continued looking at the plaza.
Everything had returned to normal.
As if the woman's fall had never happened.
—Nobody waited for an order.
Monica looked at him for a moment.
—No. There was no need.
Lusian turned his gaze toward her.
—Has it always been like this?
The question did not surprise her.
—Since I can remember.
She remained silent for a few moments.
Lusian looked back at the plaza.
In the game, he would have never paid attention to a scene like this.
The NPCs simply...
existed.
But now he had just watched dozens of people act as if they shared a single instinct.
Without arguing.
Without hesitation.
Without expecting a reward.
—It is strange.
Monica raised an eyebrow.
—What is?
—That everyone seems to know their place.
She took a moment before answering.
—Are you feeling well, my lord?
Here, nobody lives only for themselves.
The elderly care for the children.
The adults sustain the duchy.
The soldiers protect those who cannot fight.
Everyone does what they are meant to do.
As if it were the only possible way to live.
Lusian remained silent.
Then he asked something before he could stop himself.
—Why?
Monica looked at him.
This time longer than before.
Not because she suspected anything.
But because the question sounded strange coming from him.
Finally, she answered with the same simplicity one would use when speaking of the sunrise.
—It has always been this way, my lord. That is why the duchy still stands. The Douglas are one. We live together, we fight together, and we protect one another.
Her eyes met Lusian's.
—And when the time comes, you will be the one who leads us.
Lusian frowned slightly.
—Lead you?
The very idea made his head ache.
I can barely maintain this lie.
I cannot use mana.
I do not know this world.
If they discover who I truly am, I will die.
And they expect me to lead thousands of people?
It is impossible.