Lucian woke before the sun.
The room was cold and simple. He stood up, washed his face with the water left in a small basin, and went straight to cleaning the hall.
His hands moved fast. The broom scratched against the floor.
Another child entered. He looked around twelve. He dragged a cloth along the wooden railings.
"You're early," the boy said.
"I couldn't sleep," Lucian answered. He kept sweeping. "You?"
"They woke me before dawn," the boy said.
He sighed and wiped the railing harder. "I swear they think we're machines."
Lucian nodded. His body was tired too. His back ached. His palms were rough, but he kept going.
After a moment, he spoke. "Hey… can I ask something?"
The boy looked at him. "What?"
"The first heir," Lucian said. "What's his name?"
The boy blinked. "No one knows his true name. They say the heir's name is covered by a facade. They hide it because of his Principle."
Lucian paused. He remembered the word. Principle. It governed the way people lived here. It shaped power. It shaped fate.
"What name do people use for him now?" Lucian asked.
"They call him Cassian," the boy said. "But everyone says it's not the real one. Even the elders don't know the truth."
Lucian lowered his broom. So they hide the heir's name because of his Principle. I wonder what kind of power needed that level of secrecy.
The boy stretched his arms. "Why are you even asking? You planning something?"
"No," Lucian said. "Just curious."
The boy shrugged and returned to his work.
Lucian looked out the small window. Light was rising over the Meranne estate. A new day had started, and he had work to do.
Lucian wandered through the wide halls of the Meranne estate, sweeping and dusting as the morning sun spilled through tall windows.
His mind drifted. Principles… what are they really?
He paused, leaning on his broom.
Memories of his life and the system floated through him. Principles were not just rules.
They were power. They were born with each person, shaping how they could interact with reality.
Honor… Courage… Strength… Wisdom…
People could manipulate fire, earth, or even life itself if they had a strong principle. Those without principles were low, powerless. They could be servants, laborers, or worse.
Lucian looked down at his hands. I have nothing, but only… this Death Loop System.
A sharp voice broke his thoughts.
"Draemer! Come here!"
He turned. Steward Halbrecht stood near the main hall, arms folded. "The First Heir requires supplies from the capital. You will go there. Buy exactly what is requested. You will be accompanied by two other boys. Move quickly."
"Yes, sir," Lucian said, bowing.
Halbrecht gave him a list. "Do not get distracted. Do not stray from your path."
Lucian nodded and left the hall.
Outside, near the stable, two boys waited.
One was Riven, a boy with dark hair and a sharp face. The other was thin, pale, and nervous-looking. He was Luis.
"Lucian," Riven said with a smirk. "Didn't think I'd see you outside sweeping all day."
"I wasn't sleeping," Lucian replied flatly. "I had to start early."
Luis stammered. "I… I heard Steward Halbrecht needs us in the capital too. Are we going together?"
"Yes," Lucian said. "We'll leave immediately. Stay focused."
Riven rolled his eyes. "You always sound like a robot, Draemer. Lighten up."
"I'm focused," Lucian said. "This task is important. Do not forget that the First Heir is dangerous in ways you cannot see."
Luis's eyes widened. "Dangerous… the heir? He's just a child, isn't he?"
"Yes. But the Principle he holds… it could change the kingdom if misused. Remember that."
Riven laughed softly. "You've been reading too many old records. He's just a spoiled brat. We'll get the supplies, come back, and be done."
Lucian shook his head slightly.
"Underestimating the world is how people die."
The boys exchanged uneasy glances.
Lucian began walking toward the gate of the estate. His steps were steady. Principle or not, I have to survive. I have to protect her in the future. Everything I do now matters.
Riven matched his pace. "You really take this seriously, don't you?"
Lucian's gaze stayed forward. "I take survival seriously. And some things cannot wait for others to understand."
Luis trailed behind, muttering, "I just hope we don't die on the way there."
Lucian's lips pressed into a straight line. "Pay attention. That will be the difference between life and death."
The three boys left the estate.
A carriage waited near the outer gate, pulled by two worn horses.
The carriage started moving. The road shook beneath the wheels. Lucian looked out the window at the wide fields and scattered villages.
After several hours, stone walls rose in the distance. The gates opened slowly.
The capital city— Gravenheim—stood with tall buildings and a busy market that spread across every street.
They got off the carriage.
"Come on," Riven said. "We just need the supplies and then we go home."
Luis, the thin boy, ran to the shops first.
The high-quality milk came from a well-known supplier that King Roderic Von Meranne had personally contracted.
The clothes were made by a famous tailor whose name was whispered among nobles. Riven and Luis handled the buying.
Lucian stayed back, watching the people and the noise around him. He needed information. He needed a path to the First Heir.
How do I stop the outrage of the First Heir?
I need to meet him. But how? No one is allowed near him without a principle, and I have none.
He tried thinking of another idea, maybe he could sneak in, maybe he could get assigned, yet each thought fell apart.
"Lucian!" Riven called from down the street. "We're going to meet the maker of these products. Halbrecht said we should greet him properly."
Lucian followed them.
They walked deeper into the merchant district. A wide house stood near a fountain. A middle-aged noble waited there, arms crossed, wearing dark velvet.
Standing beside him was an elder with long white hair and a sharp gaze.
Luis whispered, "That… that's Elder Fürtwald…"
The man was one of the kingdom's oldest authorities. He oversaw trade, law, and every major decision that shaped the Von Meranne territory.
Lucian's eyes narrowed slightly as they approached.
An elder… this is deeper than I thought.
The three boys sat on the long bench in front of the two men. The middle-aged noble leaned back with a faint smirk. Elder Fürtwald rested both hands on his cane.
Riven tried to sit tall. Luis kept his knees together. Lucian stayed still, eyes lowered.
The noble began speaking first. "So you're the ones Halbrecht sent. Hardworking boys from Meranne Estate."
Elder Fürtwald chuckled. "You three must be tired. Come, relax. Let us tell you something interesting."
They began talking about the First Heir.
Stories of his birth, tales of his strange silence as a baby, and even rumors that even grown knights trembled when standing near him.
Riven listened with wide eyes. Luis swallowed hard. Lucian simply watched.
The noble ended with a shrug. "But who knows what is true and what is not?"
After a while, Elder Fürtwald tapped his cane. "Boys," he said, "how about a game?"
Riven grinned. Luis nodded. Lucian said nothing.
The elder placed both hands behind his back. "I am shuffling a coin between my hands. Pick the correct one, and I will give a reward."
His smile was calm.
Luis went first. He pointed to the elder's left hand. The elder lifted it.
But, it was empty.
Luis deflated.
Riven stepped up with confidence. "Then it's your right hand."
But when Fürtwald opened it, it was empty too. Riven stared, speechless.
Now it was Lucian's turn.
The boys glanced at him. Even the contractor leaned forward.
Lucian stepped closer. He watched the elder's arms. He watched the slight tension in his fingers. He remembered something simple.
He never showed us the coin in the first place.
Lucian raised his head.
"There is no coin," he said.
The air shifted.
Luis froze. Riven blinked. The noble straightened. Elder Fürtwald smiled for the first time, slow and sharp.
"Oh?" the elder said. "You noticed."