The wind howled violently
clawing at Liam's clothes, tore at his grip. Rain came in heavy sheets, cold and relentless, soaking through his fingers as he clung to the rope.
But the rope wouldn't last.
He knew that.
It was already fraying as strands snapped one by one under his weight.
Below him, the cliff fell away into ocean darkness. As Waves crashed violently against jagged rocks, rising and breaking in uneven bursts—like they were waiting.
Waiting for him to fall.
"Help! Someone, anyone."
His voice tore out of his throat, raw and desperate.
The storm swallowed it whole.
Useless.
His hand slipped.
Pebbles and dust broke loose beneath his fingers, scattering into the abyss. His body jerked as he fought to hold on, muscles trembling, arms screaming.
Slowly and, painfully, he forced himself to look up.
The castle stood above him.
Or what was left of it.
Half of the castle's structure was gone, ripped away. Broken walls jutted out into empty air. Cracks ran deep through the remaining stone.
And at the edge—
Someone stood there. A person
Tall.
A heavy coat draped over their figure, thick and layered, its edges stirring slightly despite the violent wind. Feathers lined the shoulders. But what stood out most about the mystery man was his face.
Their face was hidden. Covered by a pale mask completely—carved, animal-like, with antlers branching upward like the remains of some long-dead creature. Probably a deer.
Two green lights glowed from within. His Eyes.
They were watching him.
Liam's chest tightened in fear.
"Please…" His voice broke. "I beg you—help me!"
He cried to him desperately as tears flowed down his eyes, yet the figure didn't move.
Didn't react.
Didn't step forward.
They simply stood there, looking down at him with a stillness that felt… final.
Like his struggle didn't matter to him.
His arm shook violently while his grip slowly failed him.
For a brief moment, his body hung in the air—
Then his fingers slipped free.
The world dropped.
storm vanished.
sound vanished.
Everything vanished.
And in that empty, weightless second—
A voice spoke.
"Liam."
The wind didn't carry it.
It didn't echo.
It simply existed.
Close.
Clear.
"Liam."
He woke gasping.
Air rushed into his lungs so fast it hurt. His body jerked forward, hands grabbing blindly until they found something solid beneath him.
A Soft couch.
He coughed, " Air," his chest tightening as he forced air back into his lungs. Sweat clung to his skin.
For a moment, he didn't move.
Then he looked up.
And froze.
This wasn't his room.
The ceiling was too low. Wooden beams stretched across it, dark with age. The walls were unfamiliar—patterned, and a faint scent of ink and Lavender.
The silence felt wrong.
Too heavy.
Too complete.
Liam pushed himself upright slowly.
His head throbbed.
Where… am I?
The room came into focus piece by piece.
A Large window let in sunlight. A wooden table sat nearby, its surface cluttered with loose papers and an open ink bottle. Lines of dense handwriting covered the pages; someone had been working without rest.
Everything looked old, like a Western vibe.
Not worn down.
Not abandoned.
Just… old.
The couch beneath him was soft, its fabric rough against his skin. Even the air felt unfamiliar.
"This isn't…" he murmured.
His voice sounded off, it sounded different.
He looked down.
And stopped.
The clothes weren't his.
A white shirt. A dark vest was layered neatly over it. The fabric was thick, well-made—too fitted to be random, too deliberate to be anything casual.
Not modern.
Not even close.
"…What?"
A sharp pain struck him.
It came without warning.A violent spike that tore through his head, forcing a strained breath from his lips. He grabbed the edge of the couch, fingers tightening as the pain surged—
Then it vanished.
Instantly.
Leaving something behind.
Fragments, no memories.
His thoughts scattered as flashes of images not his own flickered through his mind.
A face.
A voice..
Gone before he could grasp any of it.
Liam blinked, his breathing uneven.
"What… was that?"
No answer came.
Only silence.
Slowly, he stood up. Looking around, he found it.
A mirror mounted near the door, tall and narrow, but the moment his eyes landed on it, something in his chest tightened.
He moved toward it without thinking.
One step.
Then another. And another.
Until he stood directly in front of it.
And stared.
His breath caught.
That wasn't his face.
The person staring back at him didn't belong to him. Different face, blond hair, green crystal eyes.
Slowly, he raised his hand.
Touched his cheek.
The reflection mirrored him perfectly.
Liam's breathing grew shallow.
"…No."
The word came out quietly.
Distant.
Like it didn't belong to him either.
"What… is this?"
He leaned closer, searching desperately for something familiar—anything that could ground him.
There was nothing.
"Who is this person…?".
Out of nowhere a pain struck—
Lower this time.
His stomach.
He flinched, pulling at his shirt, carefully but with sudden urgency.
Fabric shifted.
And there it was.
A bandage wrapped tightly around his midsection, stained dark at the center.
A wound.
Not shallow..
A stab wound.
Liam stared at it, his thoughts struggling to keep up.
"…I wasn't stabbed."
But this body was.
Whoever this person had been—
They had nearly died.
Liam's breath hitched.
For a second, he just stared at the bandage, his mind refusing to move forward.
Panic crept in fast, sharp, suffocating.
"I wasn't stabbed… I wasn't—"
His thoughts tripped over each other.
How did this happen?
Who is this?
Whose body is this?
"This doesn't make sense…"
He pushed himself back a step, shaking his head as if that alone could reset everything.
"No… no, something's wrong , I was just—"
He stopped.
The words caught in his throat.
Something felt off.
Not just him.
The room.
Slowly, his eyes noticed.
He hadn't really looked at it before—not properly at least. Everything had blurred together in the shock, the confusion, the pain.
But now…
Now he saw it. Staring at the room, he finally took it in.
The chandelier in the centre, lighting the room. The desk stood at the center, broad and unmoving, its surface scattered with papers and books, as though someone had left in the middle of a thought.
His eyes shifted to the chair behind it.
Leather. High-backed. Still
The shelves pressed in from every side, lined with books and small ornaments.
A lamp with a floating star inside glowed softly nearby, its light spilling across the rug beneath it—faded red and blue patterns worn down by years of use.
Liam drew in a slow, careful breath. Slowly, the pieces were adding up, Victorian era style room, clothes, different body..."…It cant be possible."
His fingers curled slightly at his sides. "This isn't real, it can't be, I died, but I'm alive now?" he touched his face more, feeling the hair, flesh, even bone. He calmed, now taking in the details.
The desk
The paper
New body.
Room with classic Western-style decor.
''Reincarnation?'' he thought. "Whoever this person was, I seem to have his memories, so it's more of Transmigration." The reality of that moment seemed so bizarre.
Liam smirked, muttering to himself, finding some humor in this, Maybe this is like those romance anime and novels my sister used to read. Hope so, I was already single then, can't be single now.
Immediately, he raised both arms and yelled, " My Teen Romance System, I summon thee."
Awkward silence filled the room.
He sighed loudly, What the hell was I expecting...
Liam calmed himself, since this was transmigration, those flashes must have been memories of the original. At that moment, his mind synchronised with the calm, allowing memories to flow.
Xavier, Real name Xavier Xylaris of the Forthy-third branch family of house Xylaris
House Xylaris was one of the ruling powers of the Northern Continent.
It controlled sixteen cities in its capital and maintained absolute authority over its territories. The family was divided into one main lineage and forty-six branch families, all of noble standing but subordinate to the central bloodline.
Despite their influence, House Xylaris was widely feared.
They were known for their detachment from ordinary society, treating common citizens as lesser beings. Their authority was absolute, and even their presence in public required strict protocol. Entire districts would be cleared in advance, and failure to comply often resulted in severe punishment.
To maintain control and security, the main family and branch families resided within one of its cities known as Saint Aurora.
Saint Aurora functioned as both stronghold and symbol of separation, inaccessible to ordinary citizens and governed entirely under Xylarian rule.
However, the forty-third branch family broke from this structure.
At some point in their history, they declared independence from Saint Aurora and relocated to one of the sixteen cities, establishing their own seat of governance. Over time, the 43rd branch became known for a different style of rule.
Unlike the rest of House Xylaris, they were described as orderly, fair, and unexpectedly humane. Their governance emphasized stability, hospitality, and protection of civilians, earning them growing recognition across the Northern Continent.
This divergence did not go unnoticed. As their influence increased, speculation arose that internal tensions had formed within House Xylaria. Some believed their rising reputation directly challenged the authority of the main lineage.
became a source of resentment within the family. Hence assassination
His entire branch was eradicated in a coordinated assassination carried out by an unidentified individual wearing a deer skull mask. the 32nd branch was officially declared dead across all major nations of the Northern Continent.
In truth, Xavier survived.
He and his family's butler were found adrift at sea in a severely weakened state before being recovered by a passing vessel. Upon regaining consciousness, Xavier encountered Lea Montefalco, captain of the Montefalco Pirates.
Lea Montefalco took him in.
Under her protection, Xavier lived in peacefully, hidden from the world that believed him dead. During this period, he was raised under her care, forming a mother and son bond.
This temporary peace ended years later.
The same masked figure responsible for the annihilation of the 32nd branch eventually located Xavier once again. In the ensuing encounter, Lea Montefalco was killed, marking a second irreversible collapse in Xavier's life.