A refreshing, pleasant fragrance, like citrus soda, filled the entire room. Before the first rays of morning sun streamed through the window lattice, the room's owner was already standing before the washstand.
The mirror reflected a face that, despite its exhaustion, was undeniably handsome.
Messy, dark brown hair and deep, violet eyes gave him a deadly charm. He was, without a doubt, a man whose looks would draw praise from anyone.
A handsome face that was a work of art, brilliant yet possessing an enthralling, mysterious charm.
'I have to admit, there's not a single flaw on this face... Too bad good looks don't put food on the table. If only I could trade my face for power.'
The handsome young man let out a long sigh, then patted his cheeks.
'On the bright side, at least this is way better than being a corporate drone. Can't be too greedy.'
Just two days ago, he'd been a corporate drone who had just finished another exhausting day. He had returned home, booted up an open-world, anime-style character-raising game called *Poem of Destiny*, and then, while pulling an all-nighter to grind for materials, he suddenly felt his heart stop as his vision went black.
When he came to, he found himself in the world he had long been obsessed with—a world of swords and Magic, Celestial Gods and Demons.
If that were all, it would have been an absolute blessing. After all, as a true corporate drone, he felt no attachment to his previous reality.
The only drawback was that his name was now Westheid Qinghui.
A noble surname, a noble bloodline... He was a high-ranking aristocrat even by the standards of the entire Empire. But he would have preferred a more ordinary start.
'Sigh...'
Letting out a long sigh, Westheid emerged from the washroom. The window in the corridor welcomed the first rays of dawn. As he rounded a corner, a sweet, fragrant breeze washed over him.
It was followed by a calm, elegant voice:
"Brother, breakfast is ready."
Standing before Westheid was a young girl who looked as if she had stepped out of a painting.
Her outfit, seemingly a custom-made maid uniform, was black and white with interwoven golden threads. Beneath her short skirt, she wore a pair of white, over-the-knee socks.
The girl's head was slightly bowed. Her platinum-blonde, shoulder-length hair was neatly combed, artfully layered with a ribbon and a hairband.
In the dawn light filtering through the window, her platinum-blonde hair seemed to merge with shards of sunlight. Two small, impeccably neat braids hung down from her temples.
After holding her bow for three seconds, she raised her head and opened her eyes, revealing a delicate, pretty face as exquisite as ice and snow. She looked just like an elegant and cold Fairy.
Her pale violet eyes were slightly lidded, her pupils seeming to hold an everlasting poem. Looking at her, it was difficult to tell where her gaze was truly focused.
"Yolanda, I've told you before, you don't need to be so formal at home."
Westheid sighed, repeating words he had said countless times. "There are only two of us left in the Qinghui Clan. I get it when we're in front of outsiders, but does it have to be so exhausting at home?"
"This is not a pretense, Brother."
The girl named Yolanda replied meticulously, "This is proper etiquette that must be upheld. It is precisely because our clan is in its current predicament that we must adhere to tradition and ceremony all the more. Please rest assured, even if you are like a piece of unburnable trash, a hopeless lost cause, I will not harbor excessive negative feelings. Maintaining propriety is as natural as breathing for me; it is by no means a burden."
"...Did you just insult me?"
"It is time for breakfast, Brother. Please stop standing in the doorway of the washroom. You have been in there long enough this morning."
The platinum-blonde girl closed her eyes and smiled faintly.
Westheid followed Yolanda to a long table. His expression was complicated as he watched the platinum-blonde girl, who called him Brother, calmly prepare his breakfast.
Though she called him Brother, Yolanda was not Westheid's actual sister. She was from a branch family of the Qinghui Clan, making her his distant cousin.
When Westheid had first accepted the reality of his transmigration, he was ecstatic that his wish had finally come true. He was determined to make a name for himself in the world of *Poem of Destiny* and accomplish some Great Enterprise!
Then he saw Yolanda and recognized her instantly.
'Yolanda Qinghui... Isn't she the [Glowing Blade] from the game?'
The main gameplay loop in *Poem of Destiny* involved players encountering all sorts of beautiful girls in an open world, recruiting them as teammates, raising their affection levels through quests, and unlocking the kind of hidden storylines that adult men particularly enjoy.
Each romanceable character had a rather complex and lengthy questline that had to be completed step-by-step to finish their route.
And as it happened, Westheid had completed the questline for the [Glowing Blade], Yolanda Qinghui.
In the final part of the quest, the player had to team up with Yolanda to defeat the boss: the [Resentful].
That boss was the last Patriarch of the Qinghui Clan, a man eroded by Chaos Corruption—the very same blood relative Yolanda had sworn to serve: "Westheid Qinghui."
After defeating the [Resentful], Yolanda would even tearfully loot the corpse.
She would smear her dead relative's ashes onto her skin, permanently bonding them as an empowering war ash. She would condense his blood into a Tear Jade to be worn as a container for Magic Power. She would even use a forbidden ritual to perform an Enchantment on his spinal cord, injecting it into her own body to strengthen her bloodline.
Then, she would swear a blood oath to restore the glory of Qinghui.
This was why players called Yolanda "the girl who carries her family into battle." Westheid used to get a kick out of that dark joke, but he wasn't laughing now that Yolanda was calling him "Brother."
He was already starting to break out in a cold sweat.
'Becoming her stepping stone? I don't want that!'
"Brother, please eat. Don't just space out. Did you get enough rest last night? There's a social ball at the Holy Tree Palace today."
Yolanda placed a fragrant meat roll, a vegetable salad, and a large glass of Fruit Wine in front of the dazed Westheid, speaking softly.
"I was reading. I finished *Imperial History*, *Holy Tree Praise Chapter*, and *Dragon Calamity Century Decryption*."
Westheid said, starting to eat the breakfast Yolanda had prepared for him.
"Diligence and studiousness are commendable virtues. I hope you can keep it up, Brother, so that you may revive our clan all the sooner. However, you did not leave *Song of Purity* by your bedside, which is unbecoming of the Qinghui Patriarch. Since you are unwilling to read our family's history, I am obligated to recount it for you..."
Yolanda stood ramrod straight to one side, droning on about the long and glorious history of the Qinghui Clan. Her hands were folded over her flat stomach, and the tight maid uniform was stretched taut across her well-developed chest, leaving the white lace trim without a single wrinkle.
Westheid let her words go in one ear and out the other, lost in his own thoughts.
Now that he understood the situation, Westheid naturally started thinking of ways to save himself.
Fortunately, Yolanda's questline had been quite clear about the cause and effect, so Westheid knew exactly how he was supposed to be consumed by Chaos Erosion.
About two years prior, the Chaos Tide had submerged the Qinghui Territory, destroying the fiefdom that guarded the Imperial border. Only the Lord of Qinghui Territory—Westheid—had managed to escape, fleeing to the Imperial Capital for refuge.
The fall of the Qinghui Territory meant that Chaos had begun to corrupt the Pure Holy Spirit.
If the Pure Holy Spirit were to fall to Chaos's brutal onslaught, then every member of the Direct Lineage, who were all bound by the same fate, would be corrupted along with it.
'Actually, the solution is simple: get stronger.'
'Once I reach Tier Six, the Legendary Celestial Rank, this corruption will be nothing to fear.'
'And what Tier is Westheid now? Tier Two [Elite]. In other words, just a super-soldier.'
'Ascending to Legend in two or three years? Yeah, right. In my dreams.'
But the reason Westheid could remain calm was that he had an ace up his sleeve.
Transmigrating into a fated stepping stone was a checkmate scenario, for sure. But what if he also possessed the player-exclusive Talent from *Poem of Destiny*?
[Heart and Soul's Gift (Only usable on members of the opposite sex with high Charm)]
[Allows you to share the Talents and Specialties of a chosen target. The degree of sharing is determined by your affection level. Upon advancement, can also share an Apostle's Great Enterprises and merits.]
[Current Contracted Apostles: None]
The ability to freeload off the powers of a romance target—this was a player's prerogative.
And in *Poem of Destiny*, a character's power was almost entirely determined by their Talents and Specialties.
'If I can just freeload one or two Tier T0 Talents, reaching Legend within two years won't be an impossible task. I could even utterly crush the Chaos Army! Humiliate them! Dominate them!'
Now, there was just one question left. Where was he going to find a romanceable target who possessed both high Charm and great Talents, and whose affection was easy to raise?