Chapter 1
Chapter 1
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 1
Chapter Title: Grasping and Shaking the Weakness. (1)
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"You worthless fool!"
A sharp slap rang out, and my vision spun wildly. My cheek burned hot.
'What the hell? Why did I just get hit?'
I had been reading a book in the room, so why all of a sudden...
I clutched my stinging cheek and turned my head.
"How long do you plan on living like this?!"
A man who looked to be in his mid-to-late forties was glaring at me.
'Who is he?'
A complete stranger.
His features were unfamiliar—even his eyes, the color of a tropical sea, stood out.
'Where am I?'
I discreetly rolled my eyes to take in my surroundings.
A thick carpet covered the floor, a massive curtain draped over an entire wall, and a desk piled high with documents.
'An office?'
The room had an overwhelming presence, much like the man standing before me.
Blue hair, a stern expression. Towering height that seemed to look down on everyone, and a physique so well-trained it belied his age.
The aura radiating from him pressed down on me.
"If you have something to say, then say it."
A cold voice fell into my ear.
"......"
Of course, I had nothing to say.
I didn't even know who he was or why I'd suddenly ended up here.
"Abel."
I flinched at his call.
'Abel?'
No, that wasn't my name. Mine was definitely—
"Abel, hurry up!"
He didn't even give me time to gather my thoughts.
Reluctantly, I opened my mouth.
"I don't understand what you're talking about."
"You bastard!"
A thunderous roar exploded.
"Still haven't come to your senses?! Do you really not know what you did wrong?!"
"......"
"How can you be so shortsighted...!"
The man pressed a hand to his forehead with a troubled expression.
If anything, I was the frustrated one.
Suddenly dragged to some strange place, slapped, and now just listening to a lecture. But I wasn't Abel.
"Um..."
"Please, at least show some awareness. You are the sole heir to Ovest Territory."
"No..."
"Do you intend to bear the Kindriel name while acting like this? Do you really need to see your father on his deathbed?"
No, you're not letting me get a word in.
Grumbling inwardly, I suddenly froze.
'Wait. Abel Kindriel?'
It was definitely a name I'd heard before.
'Where was it?'
As I tried to recall—
"My lord!"
The office door burst open, and a knight rushed in. He bowed his head with an urgent expression.
"I'm sorry, my lord. It's an emergency."
"...Understood."
The man nodded silently. After gesturing for the knight to leave, he turned to me.
"Confine yourself to your room for the time being."
"Pardon?"
"Didn't you hear me? I said confine yourself to your room."
No way, confinement? What era does he think this is that he's ordering confinement...?
The man brushed past me.
"Go."
He was already donning a helmet from the desk. It looked like something a medieval knight would wear.
As he opened the door, a knight standing at attention bowed his head.
"My lord."
"What kind?"
He asked in a tone that assumed no need for backstory, as if it were obvious. The knight immediately understood the abbreviated question and answered.
"Trolls, a total of twenty."
"Damage?"
"They breached the walls first. Quite a few soldiers were crushed beneath. The survivors are holding the line as best they can."
A heavy groan escaped through the man's clenched teeth. His cloak billowed as he vanished from sight.
"Wait, hold on."
I stood dumbfounded at the doorway. Two armed men approached me.
"Young Master."
They said with expressionless faces.
"It's the lord's command. Return to your room."
"......"
I didn't even know where my room was. More importantly, I'm not Abel. Why are you doing this to me?
As I stood there blankly, the men's faces hardened, and they drew closer. My arms were suddenly seized on both sides.
"Come along."
Before I could react, they were dragging me away. The two men shoved me unceremoniously into a room.
"Ugh!"
I was tossed onto the soft carpet. I scrambled up, but the door was already shut.
"Wait...!"
I twisted the doorknob, but absurdly, it was locked.
Why the hell would they install a door that locks from the outside?
I gaped for a moment before sliding down to the floor.
'What just happened?'
Everything had spiraled out of control before I could even react.
'Abel Kindriel, lord, trolls, medieval era.'
Unfamiliar words swirled in my head. I stood and surveyed the room.
A massive bed big enough for three people, luxurious wooden furniture.
"This is my room?"
It was nothing like the corridor I'd glimpsed on the way here. Gaudy wallpaper and extravagant decorations dazzled the eyes.
My frantic gaze landed on a mirror.
"-!"
I recoiled in shock at my reflection.
"Is this... me?"
Blue hair just like the man who slapped me, eyes the pale purple of lilac petals.
A slightly pale face that was strikingly handsome in every feature, upturned eyes gleaming sharply.
"What... the hell?"
Dazed, I approached the mirror. When I placed my trembling fingers on it, I felt the cold, smooth surface.
An utterly real sensation, indistinguishable from reality.
"My body..."
I shuddered at my hand on the mirror. Long, sturdy fingers, flawless skin brimming with elasticity.
"...My body's perfectly healthy."
After standing frozen for a moment, I stepped back from the mirror.
'Abel Kindriel.'
With this appearance and this name.
"No way."
Drawn by some force, I crossed the room. It was so vast that it took a while to reach the balcony.
Creak.
The glass door slid open with a small noise.
"......!"
My eyes trembled as I looked down from the balcony.
Far below, beyond a dizzyingly high vantage, a massive mountain blanketed in white snow loomed. Right below was a village clustered with houses and shops.
"...This is Ovest Territory."
And I was likely in the castle at the village center, explaining the height.
A group of soldiers raced across the drawbridge linking the castle and village. The man on the black horse at the lead wore a familiar helmet.
"My father... I suppose."
If what I'd heard was correct, he was heading out to deal with the trolls.
"No, this isn't some fantasy novel."
A hollow laugh faded from my lips.
'Fantasy novel?'
My heart sank. My wandering gaze caught a vast lake.
In the center of the lake floated an island with a solemn, funeral-like building standing tall.
I knew that building's name.
'Magna Morten.'
A place to honor soldiers who died defending the territory. And where countless deaths and grudges accumulated to summon the scourge that would lay waste to Ovest Territory.
'Requiem...'
As those facts clicked, a title surged from my memory.
[Ruler of Crimson Flames]
It was the famous fantasy novel I'd read multiple times. And in it, Abel Kindriel was...
'The worst, strongest final boss.'
A figure who caused more casualties than any in imperial history—an unprecedented disaster.
And that was me now.
"Fuck."
The curse slipped out naturally.
"I'm Abel Kindriel?"
Even clenching my fist couldn't stop the trembling.
In the world of [Ruler of Crimson Flames], there were four legendary swords.
Collectively known as the Four Seasons Swords.
Renowned swordsmen sought them obsessively, while scholars debated their existence.
It became fact when a jet-black sword descended in the heart of Ovest Territory.
Sword of Autumn, Requiem.
It bore ominous aliases like Vortex of the Void, Seed of Ruin, Life-Stealer.
The most famous and well-known was.
'Sword of Death.'
The term that most definitively described Requiem.
Whoever wielded Requiem would slaughter indiscriminately, driven by the blade's hunger for others' life force.
And Abel would seize Requiem and annihilate Ovest Territory.
"...No."
I let out a fading sigh. Thinking of the story's latter half filled me with despair.
Abel turned Ovest Territory into a land of death, wiping out the monsters infesting the western mountains.
Then he headed east for fresh prey, overwhelming and annihilating the imperial forces in his path.
With his innate swordsmanship genius amplified by Requiem's power, no one could stop him.
'But there was one.'
The protagonist of [Ruler of Crimson Flames], Cain.
Abel struggled desperately until the bitter end, only to die a pathetic death at Cain's hands.
That was the fate awaiting me.
"Fuck."
It was bad enough being thrust into someone else's body, but the world's top villain? And doomed to die if the plot followed course.
I hurled curses and maledictions at this absurd fate. Then I resolved myself.
'I can't die like this.'
I'd read [Ruler of Crimson Flames] countless times, devouring even the appendix maps and settings.
'I can do it.'
I could escape this foreseen death and catastrophe.
'No, I have to.'
I stared at the back of my hand, where blue veins bulged. Clenching my fist, I felt the taut muscles and pulsing veins.
'With a body this healthy, I can't just die.'
I was sick of needle-marked hands and withered arms.
'I will survive, no matter what.'
Gritting my teeth, I slumped into the central chair. Tapping my chin, I sank into thought.
'How did Abel die again?'
I recalled the history of his rampage. I traced back to where his downfall began.
"Then..."
I stared at Magna Morten in the distance beyond the window. The terrifying image of Requiem's descent there flashed in my mind.
"First, I need to get stronger."
After obtaining Requiem, I had to become its absolute master. Since I knew when, where, and how it would appear, it was entirely possible.
"I can't let anyone else take it."
Requiem elevated its wielder's abilities to the limit, optimizing them for slaughter.
"Better I claim it from the start than wrest it from someone else."
Having finished my calculations, I began prioritizing my next steps.
"Wait, what day is it today?"
First, I needed to know the time until Requiem's descent.
"The incident where Abel gets slapped by his father..."
Rifling through my memory, I froze in horror.
"No way. It can't be. Today is 'that day'?"
Panicking, I rushed to the door. I twisted the knob, but it still wouldn't open.
"No, confinement in this situation? Does that even make sense?"
Abel's father, Diego Kindriel. The lord of Ovest Territory—his command was absolute.
"Locked in here until Diego returns!?"
Muttering in despair, I slowly lifted my head. A cunning glint sparked in my eyes.
"No, if I'm 'Abel'..."
I turned and sat back in the chair, crossing my legs as I listened for sounds outside.
How long did I wait? Urgent footsteps from several people approached.
Knock knock.
A knock, followed by an elderly man's voice.
"Young Master, may I come in?"
Just as expected.
I grinned.
"Come in."