I sighed as she walked into her room, not sparing me a single glance. Again.
I stood there in the hallway, frozen for a moment, then scratched my head in frustration. Why is she so disgusted by me? That look in her eyes—like I was some creeping vermin—burned itself into my thoughts.
And to think… she alone is a sadist. She's just hiding it behind that ice-cold exterior. I shook my head and headed to my own room. At least mine was decent—no, luxurious even. More than fair for a noble's living quarters.
I glanced around at the spacious chamber, decorated with golden trim, velvet curtains, and polished marble floors. The kind of room that said, You better be important.
I sighed again, this time more out of habit than emotion. "A bath. I need a bath," I muttered to myself.
Peeling off my clothes, I caught a glimpse of myself in the bathroom mirror. And what I saw?
Yeah, that's something I wouldn't forget in ten lifetimes.
This body… It was far from ordinary. My reflection stared back with a face sculpted like a noble statue—tall, muscular, well-defined abs, and rough hands that had clearly seen years of sword training. This body was forged for war. A true knight's frame.
And lower down?
Even I gulped.
"Damn," I muttered, averting my eyes. "That's not normal."
Whoever used to own this body clearly trained like a madman and was blessed in other departments too. I stepped into the steaming bath, the scent of mint and citrus washing over me, and relaxed.
I had a habit—maybe a quirk. I needed to be clean. It annoyed me when my body got dirty, and I couldn't stand sleeping unwashed. Even after reincarnating into this world, that part of me hadn't changed.
As the warmth of the bath seeped into my bones, I leaned back and began pondering my plan for the week.
First step: Seduce Andrea.
She's the kind girl, the one always smiling, always gentle. Easy to get close to… and important. I'd start there.
Second: Train.
I need to unlock at least one wing of my Ashen Bloodline. Our bloodline can awaken up to sixteen wings—each representing a breakthrough, a transformation, a unique ability. Sixteen wings, sixteen awakenings. The thought made me clench my fists under the water.
From what little I remember of this body's memories, my older sister—who wasn't even mentioned in the game—was a monster in her own right. By the age of eighteen, she had already awakened eight wings. Eight! She was heralded as the future heir of our family and carried those expectations without flinching.
And me? I was the extra. The forgotten one. The bug.
Tch.
For now, I'd keep my head down. My focus should be solely on Andrea. No messing around with Selena, Luna, or the others. The more women I get involved with, the more attention I'll attract—and attention is dangerous.
Luna, for example, is cold-hearted. In the game, she only begins to warm up after Miguel helps her overcome the despair that's buried in her heart. That's when she starts falling for him. But that event is still weeks away.
Miguel… ah, Miguel.
Next week, the Academy will reveal the rankings—and he'll be #1. The chosen Hero. Strong, handsome, and charismatic. A commoner, yes, but no one will dare mock him after that. His power will be undeniable.
But then there's the villain—a prince from a neighboring kingdom who can't stand seeing a commoner rise above nobility. He'll become the main antagonist in the early arc, constantly trying to sabotage Miguel.
As for me?
I'll stay lowkey. Reach around rank 50. That's enough to not be branded a disgrace by my family.
Currently, my rank is G.
Pathetic.
By the end of next week, I plan to reach F-. It's not amazing, but it's a start. As long as I improve consistently, I'll be able to awaken the first wing and finally feel the Ashen power stir within me.
After drying off, I changed into a perfectly tailored black suit. Simple, but elegant. I admired the fit in the mirror before heading to bed.
---
Next Morning…
After my usual routine—bath, grooming, and a light breakfast—I made my way to class.
Andrea was already there, waiting.
Her eyes lit up the moment she saw me. She patted the seat beside her excitedly, and I smiled. Honestly, it felt strange. A girl like her—a beauty—was cherishing my presence.
She immediately launched into a rant about how her dog chewed up her favorite books. I nodded along, amused at how she blabber about something so trivial. Her expressions were too precious.
I activated my Seductive Aura and it seems too get stronger a bit atleast just enough to make her heart flutter. My smile softened as I stared at her.
Her cheeks turned pink. She stopped mid-sentence and looked away, flustered.
"D-Don't look at me like that… It's uncomfortable…" she mumbled, her voice barely audible.
I chuckled, not out of mockery but amusement. She was far too easy to tease.
My eyes wandered to the back of the class where Luna sat in silence. Miguel was nearby, but they still hadn't talked. Their relationship hadn't bloomed yet—still strangers.
Then, the classroom door burst open.
Sheila walked in, not with lecture notes, but wearing her battle gear. Everyone went silent.
"Today, we won't be having a lesson," she announced, her voice sharp and clear. "Instead, we're heading to the training grounds."
A ripple of excitement and fear went through the class.
Training meant pain.
We followed her to our designated area private ground, larger and more advanced than most.
Sheila clapped her hands once, getting everyone's attention. Her eyes scanned us like a predator eyeing its prey.
"Each of you will spar with me. One by one."
Dead silence.
Everyone's jaw dropped. Sparring with an S-ranked Knight? That wasn't training. That was suicide.
"But—" one student started.
"It will only last for one minute each," she interrupted calmly. "No exceptions."
A full minute with her? That was still too much. No one here stood a chance.
But no one dared object further.
Fear or pride—either way, we all braced ourselves.
I exhaled slowly.