I was on my way to the Baron's mansion, riding my horse, but my mind wasn't on the road.
The reason I now say that I am Tyler is because the memories I received before always felt distant, as if they didn't belong to me. That's why I couldn't fully accept that I was the real Tyler. I felt like someone who had taken another person's body.
But now…it's different.
I feel every memory as if it's truly mine.
I feel the pain when Roland killed me.
I feel how the villagers treated me.
And I feel the love my parents and Sister Mariya showed me.
They were Tyler's memories, but now they're my memories too.
However, one memory still won't leave my mind.
About
My parents didn't kill themselves.
They didn't die by accident.
They were murdered—by people in black clothes, mostly like a assassins.
They came first for my mother.
She tried to fight, but they were stronger than her. I remember them saying something to her, but I couldn't hear it clearly because she had hidden me inside the closet.
But when they were about to hang her, I started crying loudly—
and my cry revealed my hiding place to the assassins.
They hung my mother in front of me.
I cried then, and I am crying now just remembering it.
My father arrived later, only to find the burning house and his dead wife. He went into a rage.
There were five assassins in total. My father killed four of them—brutally, smashing them with his hammer. He almost killed the last one, but the poison on their weapons slowed him down, and the leader escaped.
In the end, my father died from poison and blood loss—while hugging me and apologizing to me and my mother.
Tears fell down my face as I rode, lost in the weight of the memories.
Tyler's memories were overwhelming me.
I could now say that the previous Tyler still lived within me—somehow.
While riding, I saw the entrance of the mansion. I had arrived right on time. Evening was ending, and night had not yet fallen.
— A conversation far from Tyler —
"So, what was so important that you called me at this hour, Pope?" a man in his fifties asked.
"I'm sorry, Your Majesty, but it is a matter that needs your attention."
"Fine, fine. Speak. Don't waste time."
"The Saintess has informed us that our God has made contact with her and spoken to her."
"What!? Are you telling the truth, Marcus?" the King said, shocked.
"Yes, Your Majesty. That's why we came at this hour."
"Haha… how many years has it been since our God last spoke to us?"
"Fifty years, Your Majesty," the Pope replied.
"So, what did our God say? Tell me," the King said eagerly.
"He said four souls have crossed this world's space line. He noticed it himself. He warned that they will bring danger, and we must prepare. Also, we are to be wary of the Hero of Water."
The Pope continued,
"This change was sensed by the God of Life and the Goddess of Light as well."
"Those demons… I'm sure this is their doing. They must be trying to summon otherworlders."
"But, Your Majesty… how can we find them? We no longer have the artifact our God gave us. It was stolen when our previous hero died a hundred years ago in the war against the demons."
"Don't worry about that. I will call a meeting with the Life Empire and the Light Empire," the Emperor said.
"But… wary of the Hero of Water? We have good relations with him. I'm friends with their Emperor. Why would our Lord warn us about him? I need to speak with him."
Unknown to Tyler, he had already gained an enemy in this world.
---
Tev Ryn Holt's POV
Five days had passed since Tyler returned from his parents' graves. It's horrible to lose your parents at such a young age.
Rumors still spread that he was the reason they died.
A tragic childhood indeed.
"Are you pitying him, son?" an old voice said behind me.
"Yes, Father. I feel sad for him," I replied while watching my father.
"So you feel that we shouldn't use him?" he asked, pointing his cane toward Tyler, who was training.
"No, Father. Even if we are using him for our benefit, that doesn't change the fact that he also gains something. We're helping him too," I said. "If not for us, he would have lived here all his life."
"Good, son. You know our objectives. But are you sure he can win—or even get third place?" he asked, stroking his beard.
This was my father.
A man who saw people as tools for profit.
To climb higher in the noble ranks, he forced children to participate in dangerous competitions—many of them died, and he didn't care.
Even now, he was judging Tyler, deciding whether the boy was worthy or worthless.
"I don't know if he'll win, but I know this—he isn't talented or a genius like noble children, but he's a hard worker," I said.
"I hope this works, Tev… or I don't know what I'll do to you and the boy," he said, smiling as he left.
After he walked away, a smile spread on my face.
"Haha… the old man's getting weak. Does he think he can beat me? I'm an A-rank knight. He's just a B-rank mage. Wait, old man… just wait until I throw you out of the family head seat and raise our family's name myself," I muttered.
"Ha ha ha—"
My loud laugh made everyone in the training ground stop and stare. Even Tyler looked at me.
"Ahem. Nothing happened. Get back to training," I said, clearing my throat.