The walk to the Duke's study felt like a march toward execution.
Every step echoed through the long, black-marble corridor. Torch flames flickered on the walls, casting twisted shadows that made the hallway feel like the throat of a giant beast.
Two knights stood guard outside the massive doors at the end.
Cold. Silent. Fully armored.
They looked at me like I was already a criminal.
Good start, Kyle. Your own house feels like enemy territory.
I stopped in front of the doors.
One of the knights knocked once.
Heavy footsteps sounded from inside.
"Enter."
The voice was deep. Calm. Emotionless.
The doors opened.
I stepped inside.
The study was massive. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. A huge desk carved from dark stone. A single tall window behind it, covered with heavy curtains. Dim, crimson light filtered through, casting long shadows across the room.
And behind the desk—
The Duke of Blackthorn.
My father.
He sat rigidly, his posture straight as a spear. Silver hair streaked with black fell to his shoulders. His crimson eyes held no warmth at all, only sharp calculation.
He was terrifyingly handsome in a way only powerful men were.
The kind of person who didn't need to shout to make people tremble.
The moment his eyes settled on me, my chest felt tight.
In the novel—
This man was described as "the blade that raised a demon."
The one who trained Kyle into a perfect weapon.
The one who never smiled.
The one who would sacrifice his own son for the empire without hesitation.
I swallowed.
"You summoned me, Duke," I said, keeping my voice as steady as I could.
Silence lingered.
His gaze slowly moved over me, from head to toe. Not in concern. Not in relief.
Evaluation.
Like I was an object.
"You collapsed during training," he said at last. "Explain."
My mind raced.
Don't act arrogant. Don't be cruel. Don't be suspicious. Just be… normal.
"I overexerted myself," I replied. "My stamina wasn't sufficient."
He stared.
Long.
Unblinking.
"…Since when do you speak so plainly?" he asked.
My heart skipped.
Right.
Original Kyle would have replied with arrogance, defiance, maybe even mockery.
"I… reflected," I said carefully. "On my weaknesses."
The Duke's eyes narrowed just slightly.
"That sounds unlike you," he said.
Sweat slid down my back.
The silence deepened.
The System suddenly chimed softly in my mind.
[TENSION DETECTED: HIGH]
[CRINGE OPPORTUNITY AVAILABLE]
Not now. Please not now.
The Duke rose from his seat.
The pressure in the room instantly doubled.
He walked slowly around the desk, his footsteps steady and unhurried. Each step felt like a verdict approaching.
"When you were seven," he said calmly, "you broke a knight's arm for speaking out of turn. When you were ten, you laughed while watching prisoners being executed. When you were fifteen, you set fire to a warehouse because you found the screams displeasing."
He stopped in front of me.
"And now," he said quietly, "you say you have 'reflected.'"
My throat went dry.
Those were Kyle's memories.
Not mine.
But to this man, they were my crimes.
"I almost died today," I said.
The Duke stared at me.
"Death is common on the Blackthorn path," he replied. "Fear is not."
"I'm not afraid," I said quickly. Then corrected myself honestly, "I was… unprepared."
Something subtle flickered in his eyes.
Not shock.
Interest.
"You will attend the Imperial Academy ceremony tomorrow," the Duke said. "Your behavior there will reflect the future of our house."
"I understand."
"You will not embarrass me."
My soul screamed.
"Yes, Duke."
He studied me one last time.
Then, coldly—
"Leave."
Just one word.
Dismissal.
My legs felt weak as I turned and walked out.
The moment the doors closed behind me, I leaned against the wall and released the breath I'd been holding.
"I survived," I whispered. "I actually survived."
[OBJECTIVE COMPLETED: SURVIVE DUKE ENCOUNTER]
[NO CRINGE GENERATED]
[WARNING: DIGNITY LEVEL RISING]
"…That's bad, isn't it?"
[YES.]
I pushed myself off the wall and headed back to my room.
Tomorrow was the Academy.
Tomorrow was where everything originally went wrong.
And somewhere in that massive institution…
She was waiting.
---------
The Next Morning
The carriage ride to the Imperial Academy was painfully silent.
Kyle's personal carriage was lavish beyond imagination. Velvet cushions. Golden trims. Even the windows were made of enchanted glass.
Knights rode alongside us.
Commoners on the street bowed deeply as we passed.
Some looked fearful.
Some looked hateful.
Some looked hopeful.
But all of them looked at me as if staring at a natural disaster disguised as a human.
"So this is what it feels like to be universally disliked," I muttered quietly.
[PASSIVE EFFECT: SOCIAL DREAD – ACTIVE]
The academy gates soon came into view.
Massive white stone walls.
Towering spires that pierced the sky.
Hundreds of students gathered outside, nobles and commoners alike, each dressed in their finest uniforms.
Excitement buzzed thick in the air.
This was the gateway to power.
The entrance to destiny.
The carriage came to a smooth stop.
A knight opened the door.
"Young Master Kyle von Blackthorn," he announced.
The moment I stepped out—
The entire atmosphere shifted.
Whispers erupted instantly.
"That's him…"
"The Mad Heir…"
"Blackthorn's demon…"
"So he's joining too…"
Every gaze turned toward me.
Some fearful.
Some resentful.
Some openly hostile.
My chest tightened.
Don't react. Don't provoke. Don't follow the script.
I moved through the crowd in silence.
Then—
A sudden scream.
A girl tripped right in front of me.
She fell hard on the stone pavement, books scattering everywhere.
Gasps spread through the crowd.
This was it.
The original scene.
In the novel, Kyle kicked her books aside, grabbed her by the collar, and mocked her as "filth" for daring to block his path.
It was the moment that sparked universal hatred.
Everyone looked at me.
Waiting.
Watching.
Judging.
My heart pounded like a war drum.
The girl tried to stand, trembling.
"I—I'm sorry! I didn't mean to—!"
I froze.
Then the System screamed in my mind:
[MAIN QUEST – CRITICAL MOMENT]
Original Action: Humiliate the girl
Recommended Action: Do NOT commit villain behavior
Alternative Cringe Opportunity Detected…
My body moved before my pride could stop it.
I knelt.
In front of everyone.
Gasps turned into stunned silence.
I picked up her books one by one and handed them back to her.
"You're hurt," I said. "Can you stand?"
Her eyes widened in disbelief.
The entire crowd froze.
I had violated the script.
"Y-Yes…" she whispered.
I helped her up.
And without thinking, I added—
"…Please don't trip again. I might die of guilt next time."
Silence.
Then murmurs.
Confusion spread like wildfire.
Kyle von Blackthorn… apologizing?
Helping a commoner?
Had the world ended?
[CRINGE VALUE: MODERATE
[+2 Luck]
I sighed in relief.
No heart attack.
Good sign.
Then—
Cold pressure washed over me.
I slowly turned.
And saw her.
Silver hair that gleamed beneath the morning sun.
Golden eyes as calm and sharp as polished blades.
Standing at the edge of the crowd.
Lady Seraphina Dawncrest.
The future heroine.
The future saint.
The future woman who would one day watch my execution without flinching.
Our eyes met.
For a brief moment, the world went silent.
She stared at me.
Not with hatred.
Not with anger.
But with quiet, unreadable curiosity.
Then her gaze shifted to the girl I had helped.
Something subtle changed.
A strange intensity flickered in her eyes.
Not warmth.
Interest.
Focused, unsettling interest.
She turned and walked away without a word.
But as she passed—
For just a second—
I felt it.
A strange feeling.
Like I had been… marked.
[NEW OBSERVATION LOGGED:]
Seraphina Dawncrest – Emotional Signal: Abnormal Attention Detected
My heart skipped for reasons I didn't understand.
"Why do I suddenly feel like I just touched something dangerous?" I muttered.
Then the System chimed again.
Bright.
Cheerful.
Cruel.
[SUB-QUEST REMINDER:]
Public Confession to Seraphina Dawncrest
Time Remaining: 18 HOURS, 31 MINUTES
My soul quietly collapsed.
I stared at the direction she had disappeared.
"…So the woman who will kill me one day also has to reject me publicly today."
Somewhere deep inside me—
For the first time—
I felt fear that wasn't about death.
It was about something far more terrifying.
Romance.