The last thing he remembered was the light.
Blinding.
Violent.
It swallowed everything in an instant.
Before that - there had been noise.
Shouting. Panic. The kind of chaos that came when something went terribly wrong.
Then came the pain.
It tore through him without mercy, leaving no room for thought, no space to breathe.
And just like that-
Everything disappeared.
Darkness followed.
Endless and silent.
He could not feel his body.
Could not hear his own breath.
It was as if he had been cast into a void where nothing existed - not even time.
A faint thought surfaced in the emptiness.
So… this is death.
There was no fear in it.
Only quiet acceptance.
"…Klein…"
A voice.
Soft.
Distant.
"…Klein, can you hear me?"
The darkness wavered.
Something pulled at his consciousness, dragging him upward from the depths of nothingness.
His eyelids felt unbearably heavy.
It took all his strength just to open them.
When he finally did, his vision was blurred at first. Shapes and shadows slowly took form, until at last he could see clearly.
A ceiling. Wooden. Old, but well-crafted, with thick beams running across it.
Not something he recognized.
Not something he had ever seen before.
A faint scent lingered in the air - something herbal, mixed with the warmth of burning wood.
This… isn't where I was.
His breathing grew uneven.
He tried to move.
And immediately felt that something was wrong.
His body was light.
Too light.
Weak.
Slowly, he raised his hand.
And froze.
Small.
The hand before him was that of a child.
Pale skin stretched over thin fingers, lacking any strength or calluses.
His heart skipped a beat.
What… is this?
"Klein!"
The voice came again, clearer now, filled with urgency.
Footsteps echoed as someone rushed to his side.
He turned his head slightly, the movement awkward and unfamiliar.
A woman leaned over him.
Her long black hair fell gently around her shoulders, and her deep blue eyes were filled with worry. Her expression, though composed, carried the weight of sleepless nights.
When their eyes met, relief washed over her face.
"You're awake…" she whispered, her voice trembling ever so slightly. "Thank the heavens…"
Her hand came to rest against his forehead, gentle and warm.
He stared at her in silence.
Klein…
The name echoed again in his mind.
That's not my name.
Then, without warning -
Memories surfaced.
Not his own.
They came in fragments at first, scattered and unclear.
A name.
Klein Crownoval.
A grand estate.
Long corridors lined with polished stone.
Servants bowing their heads.
A title
Second son of Duke Vivian Crownoval.
His breath caught.
More followed.
Voices.
Cold.
Unforgiving.
"Still no sign of mana…"
"The Duke's son, yet so lacking…"
"A disgrace to the family."
A faint tightness formed in his chest.
Not his emotions-
But remnants of the boy who once owned this body.
"…Klein?"
The woman's voice pulled him back.
Her eyes searched his face, filled with concern.
"You've been asleep for days… say something, please."
He blinked slowly.
Then, after a brief pause, he spoke.
"…I'm fine."
The voice that left his lips was soft. Young.
Unfamiliar.
But it was enough.
The woman let out a quiet breath, her shoulders relaxing slightly.
"Don't strain yourself," she said gently. "You need rest."
He nodded faintly.
But his mind was anything but at rest.
I died.
There was no doubt left.
Whatever had happened before - whatever that light had been - it had ended his life.
And yet-
He was here.
Alive.
In another body.
In a world that was clearly not his own.
His gaze shifted around the room.
Everything felt… different.
The furnishings were simple, yet finely made.
The materials spoke of wealth, even without unnecessary decoration.
This was no ordinary household.
The memories confirmed it.
A ducal house…
A place of power.
Of influence.
And expectation.
A faint frown appeared on his face.
And this body… failed to meet those expectations.
From what he could gather, the original Klein had been weak.
Especially when it came to magic.
Mana.
The word surfaced again.
Something that flowed through the body.
Something that could be shaped and controlled.
In this world, it seemed to be everything.
His black eyes darkened slightly.
Calm.
Thoughtful.
If such a thing exists…
Then it must follow some kind of order.
Some kind of rule.
Power like that could not exist without structure. Without reason.
the woman - his mother - was still beside him, gently holding his hand.
Warm.
Reassuring.
A presence that stood in contrast to the cold memories he had just seen.
This world… is not kind to the weak.
That much was clear.
Especially not in a house like this one.
His fingers curled slightly against the bedsheet.
Subtle.
But deliberate.
Then I will simply have to change that.
He was no longer the same person.
No longer the boy who had been looked down upon.
Slowly, his gaze turned toward the window.
Sunlight streamed in, soft and golden, illuminating the room in a quiet glow.
A new world lay beyond it.
Unknown.
Unfamiliar.
But full of possibility.
A quiet thought formed in his mind.
Steady.
Certain.
If this power they call mana truly exists…
Then I will learn it.
Understand it.
And make it my own.
His expression remained calm.
But deep within-
Something had already begun to change.