Upon reaching the cave's exit, Norris was gasping for air. He savored the sweet, fresh breeze as if someone might steal it from him at any moment.
He noticed that he was holding a ring in his hand and immediately remembered what it was. Without thinking much, he slipped it into his pocket. There were too many things on his mind, and a ring from some dead guy was the last thing he needed to worry about.
From what he had seen earlier, the ring was probably made of gold. Who knows—it might even be magical. After all, stumbling upon something magical is pretty common in novels.
"Master Alexander, are you alright? How are your injuries? Are they bad? Can you still walk?" The high-ranking servant fired off questions one after another, clearly worried about the young man's condition.
"Master Alexander, my ass. I can't even master basic hygiene," Norris muttered in response to the barrage of dizzying questions from the high-ranking servant.
Oddly enough, after staring at the man in front of him, Norris realized he actually knew his name—it was Steward Lucio. Looking around further, he recognized the names of all nine servants who had come with the steward: Alan, John, Denis, and the others.
"Damn, I really did get reincarnated into this Master Alexander's body. Should I tell them I'm not really him, or just play along?" Norris thought to himself.
"The first option would probably get me burned at the stake right away, while the second one would get me burned after enjoying some benefits. Well, it's an obvious choice—Master Alexander it is," he decided internally.
"Well, at least I'll get to enjoy being some young master of a noble family. I'll probably live a great life…" Norris thought. But then his expression froze.
"Oh no. Based on Alexander's memories, I'm actually just a bullied kid. That's how he ended up half-dead in a shithole like that."
Realizing this with growing dread, Norris went pale.
Steward Lucio noticed his pale complexion and immediately panicked once again. "Master Alexander, are you alright? Are you hurt somewhere?" he asked anxiously.
"Quit yapping. I'm just dizzy and exhausted. Ask me one more question, and I swear I'll jump back into that hole to end this miserable plight," Norris grunted irritably.
"Damn transmigration. Damn novel clichés. Damn stupid luck. Why can't I just get an easy life for once?" Norris complained internally.
"So what's next? Am I some sort of cripple who can't cultivate or train?" Norris muttered to himself. "Oh wait… shit, I really am. This is like the perfect combo in some poorly written novel," he realized, sifting through Alexander's memories in his mind.
"Truly, blessings come in pairs, while calamities arrive by the dozen."
"This world even has demons and monsters. Shit… am I supposed to deal with them like some hero destined to save the world? Nope. My pay grade's way too low for that. Get someone else to do it," Norris grumbled to himself.
"Quick, get the young master onto the litter¹ and carry him back to the manor. And you, Alan—go fetch Healer Agnes from Maplewood Village immediately. The young master needs urgent medical treatment," Steward Lucio commanded the rest of the servants.
Immediately after they carried Alexander to the manor, Norris lay in the litter, thinking desperately about how not to get caught as an impostor and end up cooked well-done on a stake. He tried to recall all the important memories from Alexander's short, miserable life.
"I should probably start referring to myself as Alexander to avoid slip-ups. As they say, 'A great actor is basically a professional identity thief… but with better costumes.' I shouldn't just play the part, I should forget the script and live the drama." Alexander thought.
*****
Upon arriving at the manor, everyone was bustling with activity. The maids undressed him, poured a bucket of water over him, and then dried him with towels before helping him get dressed again. Afterwards, he was taken to a room and laid on the bed.
Suddenly, a stunning woman came running, accompanied by a burly, middle-aged man with rugged, less-than-handsome features. The woman had a graceful figure, bright blue eyes, and an oval-shaped face, while the man's broad, blocky face lacked the refined features that usually define handsomeness.
Based on Alexander's memories, the two who came running were his mother and father.
They immediately approached the bed to check on Alexander's condition, worry etched deeply in their eyes.
"My poor child, what happened to you? How did you end up in that hole?" the beautiful woman asked, concern written all over her god-sculpted face. She gently stroked his hair with one hand while holding his left hand with the other.
"Son, speak. Did Troy and Conrad bully you again?" asked the man with a square jaw and stern eyes, clearing his throat repeatedly in a vain attempt to mask his emotion.
The woman was Elena Lightguard, his mother, while the man was Leofric Lightguard, his father.
Sifting through his memories, he immediately recalled what had happened. "Troy challenged me to a fight. I tried to follow your advice to avoid conflict, but Troy went too far and started insulting our family's honor. So, I fought him. At first, I had the upper hand since we agreed not to use any spirit art. However, just as he was about to lose, he jabbed his finger into my chest — and it carried electricity. I blacked out after that and can't remember anything else," Alexander replied.
The tunic he had worn earlier was still lying nearby. A hole was visible in the center of the fabric. During his father's inspection, a burn mark was also found on his chest—clear evidence that the electric attack had struck there.
"These Steelforts are going too far—actually trying to commit murder, and on my child, in our territory! I need to cut off the heads of those evil spawns!" Leofric yelled in fury. He was about to charge out the door to confront the culprits, but Elena held him back.
"Leofric, enough. You can't just force your way into Blackberry Manor to kill them. Let's take care of Alexander first, and deal with the others later," Elena said, still crying as she held his arm.
He immediately calmed down enough to think logically and avoid throwing himself into a suicide mission.
"Alright, once we confirm Alexander's safety, we'll immediately file a complaint with the Sheriff's office." Leofric replied.
"And oh, I just remembered—there's an auramancer lingering around Maplewood Village. Steward Lucio, send someone to fetch him here. We'll pay him well. The injury on Alexander's chest is still fresh; we might be able to extract Troy's aura from the wound and use it as evidence," Leofric said to Steward Lucio.
Steward Lucio nodded and walked away to relay the order to John, one of the servants who had accompanied him. He, too, was enraged by what had happened to his young master.
"I want to see how that wench Lettice manages to keep her two sons' heads from rolling off their shoulders. Still so young and already bold enough to commit murder—truly, the apple doesn't fall far from the tree," Leofric said, his voice thick with hatred.
Meanwhile, Alexander was lying on the bed, silently watching the drama unfold. "All I'm missing is some popcorn, and this would be a full-blown theater performance. Anyway, I really need to focus on what they're saying and avoid saying anything unnecessary. The moment they uncover the truth will probably be the moment I reincarnate into the next novel—or so I guess."
"Well, at least I was transmigrated into a loving family. I probably don't need to worry about food or shelter," Alexander thought to himself.
A few moments later, hurried footsteps echoed outside the door. Alan burst in, bringing Healer Agnes along with him.
Healer Agnes was a slightly older woman, probably in her fifties. However, she walked with a straight posture and looked remarkably healthy for her age. If you disregarded the wrinkles on her face and the crown of almost pure white hair, you might easily think she was in her thirties.
Upon seeing both Leofric and Elena, she immediately bowed to show her respect for the couple.
Elena quickly stepped forward to stop her.
Leofric added at once, "Mistress Agnes, I've told you more than once not to be so formal with us. You've shown great care to our family, and we already consider you one of our own. There's no need for such trivial formalities."
"Oh, Leofric. You're already so old, yet still so naive. Commoners like us can get our heads chopped off for the slightest misstep—if the wrong person hears about it," Healer Agnes said with a chuckle.
"Who would dare?" Leofric declared, with a boldness and pride that left no room for fear.
Healer Agnes waved her hand, indicating to stop dwelling on the issue.
"Where is my dear child, Alexander? I've already been informed of the situation along the way. Let me check on his condition," Healer Agnes said as she tried to peek at the bed behind Leofric.
"He's right here." Leofric waved his hand and stepped aside, indicating that Alexander lay on the bed behind him.
Healer Agnes immediately went to the bed and sat beside Alexander. She asked dotingly, "Child, how are you feeling?"
Alexander replied, "Oh no, dear Mistress Agnes," he moaned dramatically, "please help me—my body is in so much pain, and my head feels like it's splitting."
He struggled to get the words out—the pain and headache were very real—but he had to act dramatically and choose his words carefully so that Healer Agnes wouldn't ask too many questions. He couldn't risk slipping up and revealing too much about himself.
Seeing the concern in Healer Agnes's eyes. Alexander immediately thought.
"Damn, I didn't know I was this good at acting. I should have applied as an actor. Even though I had an ugly mug before, I'd probably still pass for some drama role," Alexander thought to himself.
"Here, let me examine your wounds," Healer Agnes said as she moved closer to check on Alexander.
She examined his body thoroughly, not wanting to miss anything.
Leofric was eagerly waiting and couldn't help but ask Healer Agnes midway. He asked, "How is it, Mistress Agnes? Is there going to be a problem with our son?"
Healer Agnes replied while continuing her examination, "Aside from the deep wounds on his chest and a few other areas, he should be fine. Nothing a good healer can't fix with some potions and a bit of magic."
She paused, with a confused expression as she checked Alexander's pulse by channeling natural energy into his body.
Litter - a portable bed or carriage, often used by the wealthy for travel, usually carried by humans or on an animal's back, in medieval times. It was also used to carry patients.