Status
Kain’s boots echoed against marble as he walked down the long corridor. The hall stretched endlessly, lined with portraits of ancestors who seemed to judge him with every step.
He stopped before a door inlaid with gold and silver runes, the emblem of House Valen carved deep into the wood. When he pushed it open, the room was vast.
A chandelier of crystal hung overhead, scattering cold light across walls draped in silk. The floor was polished to a mirror sheen, and the furniture was carved from dark, expensive wood. Bookshelves lined one wall, which was more for display than use. Then there was a grand bed dominated the center, its black canopy screams extravagant.
Kain exhaled and let himself fall backward onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling. He closed his eyes feeling the weight of what happen and what was to come. Sleep came quick.
Images of buildings, cars, and people blurred into dreams. The more Kain tried to remember his past life, the more pain he felt. Eventually, he woke up and sat up abruptly. He looked around and glance out the window.
‘Looks like I skipped dinner and yet no one cared to even notified me. So this is my life now. Rich, weak, handsome, and doomed.’
After a few moments of silence, he gathered himself.
“Alright, let’s test this.”
He raised his hand dramatically toward the air before him.
“Status!”
Moment of silence when nothing appeared.
“Inventory! System!”
More silence answered him.
“Menu! Skills! Level! Quest Log! Talents! Console!”
Eyes twitching at the cringe of it all. Only the faint echo of his own voice came back, bouncing mockingly around the room.
He dragged a hand down his face and groaned.
“You gotta to be kidding me. No interface? No status screen? No divine tutorial fairy? No ancient master to guide me through training to become one of the very best? No notification.”
He stared at his hand, waiting for a glow, a single damn sparkle of aura.
Nothing.
‘So thats it? I got dragged into a world where everyone has aura and bloodlines… and I got none of that? No blessings? No starter pack? No overpowered skill or talent?’
He laughed under his breath, it was a dry, humorless sound.
‘Figures, the one time I get reincarnated, I spawn as the extra character who does not even make it past the prologue.’
He got up and paced to the mirror near the desk. The reflection that stared back was every bit as handsome as he remembered from the novel’s description: sharp features, pale white almost silver hair, lavender eyes like tempered steel. But the desperate expression, that was all him now.
The face of someone both terrified and unwilling to admit it.
“Alright, last not waste time trying to argue over nothing. I got to focus on what I can do.”
He pressed his palms against the desk, knuckles white.
‘I don’t have skills. I don’t have a system. I don’t even remember the timeline properly. The webnovel was, what, thousands of chapters? I got through most of it, but the beginning is fuzzy at best. The details of every arc is not apparent to me, its not like I have photographic memory of everything that is going to happen. I only remember the major points in each arc.’
He swallowed. A slow, cold dread settled in his gut.
‘And Kain dies early, before the beginning of the story at the academy. His death is mentioned by Eira, during her interaction with the protagonist.’
He sank into the chair before sighing to himself.
“So… what do I have?”
‘The Valemonts were a martial house of spearmanship. That much I remember. Father’s probably a war freak, which means there’s training grounds nearby. Equipment, drills, manuals... If I can at least learn the basics, I can build from there.’
His hands rested unconsciously on the chair before getting up and walking over to the window that outlook the mountains.
“I might not have a system, but I’ve got knowledge. I read the story and I know what happens next. I can prepare before the real plot begins”
He smile faintly and a dangerous glint appeared in his eyes.
“Why wait till tomorrow. I need to know what I can do now.”
He pushed away from the window and crossed to the door. The corridor beyond was silent, save for the distant whisper of the wind through the banners. Somewhere far below, a bell marked the middle of the night. He slipped out of the room, the faint echo of his boots following him down the hall.
‘Spearmanship, training grounds…let’s see what this body can do’
