Tonight was so bitterly cold that a young man curled up under his thick blanket.
Nothing could wake him—not an earthquake, not a tsunami. He slept like the dead… or maybe sleeping was simply his hobby.
But the constant knocking on the door and the voices calling from outside finally disturbed him.
Damn it.
He covered his ears with his pillow, rolled over again and again searching for a comfortable position, but it was useless.
His sleep had already been ruined.
With great reluctance, he sat up, still hugging his pillow like a lifelong companion.
The first thing he saw when he opened his eyes was unfamiliar.
He wasn't in his room.
"What the hell! Where am I?"
Noah looked around.
There was no messy room full of empty cans or snack wrappers.
He tried to remember what he had been doing before waking up in this strange place.
Two days and two nights pulling an office all-nighter, then accidentally finding a romance novel on his little sister's desk…
He read it from start to finish while snacking and drinking canned beer, completely forgetting the time.
And the result—
Did he die a stupid death?
Noah burst out laughing.
"Hahaha… did I get transmigrated into another world like in those novels my sister always reads? This is NOT funny."
His laugh was hollow.
Two days of back-breaking work at the office, and he didn't even get to enjoy the results.
Why did he have to end up in some godforsaken world?
While he was cursing his fate, someone suddenly entered the room.
Clearly, the person who had been knocking earlier had lost their patience.
"Nael, why didn't you open the door? I've been looking everywhere for you."
Noah froze. What was he supposed to say?
He didn't know the identity of the body he was in, nor his relationship with the people here.
"U-uh, sorry."
That was all he could manage.
Nael? Was that his name now?
"Enough. Nael, make herbal tea for His Grace the Duke. He's going to stay up late again tonight."
"Y-Yes, S—Sir." Noah answered shakily.
He bowed his head, eyes darting left and right, hands twisting together.
Fear.
All he felt was fear.
"What's wrong with you today, Nael? You even addressed me incorrectly."
The man frowned. Was he suspicious?
Noah panicked.
Was he going to die right after transmigrating?
"Ah… sorry. I just woke up and I'm still groggy. W-what do I usually call you?" he asked carefully.
"Uncle Rondel. Or Head Butler Rondel. How could you forget?"
"I-I didn't forget, Uncle. I'm just a bit dazed. I fell yesterday and hit my head, so things have been fuzzy."
"I see. Well, hurry and make His Grace some herbal tea. I still have work to do."
"Yes, Uncle."
Uncle Rondel turned to leave, but before stepping out, he looked back.
"Don't take too long. His Grace needs his tea and snacks. Don't keep him waiting."
"Yes, Uncle. Don't worry. I'll prepare it right away."
He left.
Now Noah was alone with his confusion.
Since when did he know how to make herbal tea for someone else?
What if the person drinking it noticed something was wrong just by the taste?
Wasn't that the same as courting death?
Especially when the person he was serving was a Duke.
"Am I actually inside the Duke's mansion in the book I read? If I recall correctly, there was only one Duke mentioned. Wasn't it Duke Cassian Vale?"
Noah's eyes widened.
"If I'm in Duke Vale's castle, doesn't that mean my life is in danger?"
He remembered: Cassian Vale was cold, distant, with little interaction.
But the moment something displeased him, he would cut it down. Anything.
That was why he was called the Cold Man of the Western Territory.
In the story, Duke Vale was the second male lead who turned evil, becoming the final boss who destroyed the world.
Few people knew that Cassian's parents had sealed a demon that once devastated the Kingdom of Elysiar inside his body.
Consumed by burning jealousy, Cassian failed to contain the demon and was possessed.
He destroyed the entire castle, not leaving a single soul alive.
Even the knights and mages sent by the Kingdom couldn't stop him.
In the end, Cassian died at the hands of the Female Lead, along with the demon inside him.
That was the ending of the novel Noah had read.
"Does that mean I'll be dragged into the same catastrophe? Just remembering how brutally he slaughtered everyone gives me chills."
Noah's thoughts spun.
But right now, the most important thing was making tea and snacks for Cassian.
"To hell with the future. Better make that tea before I get beheaded for making him wait."
He wandered through the wide halls of the castle.
He asked for directions multiple times, got lost multiple times, and even brewed several failed teas with weird flavors.
Finally, he chose the last one he made and carried it along with some desserts.
Before leaving, he asked another servant for directions to the Duke's study.
He was questioned multiple times like a newcomer.
Noah innocently answered that he was a bit dizzy because he hit his head.
A stupid excuse, yet people believed it so easily.
Now he stood before the heavy door of Cassian's study.
Few people were allowed to enter or exit this room.
He was either lucky… or doomed.
A single mistake here could become a fatal blow.
His life was on the line.
Fortunately, Uncle Rondel was standing guard.
He instructed Noah to be ready—the door was about to open.
"Go in."
"Me?" Noah pointed at himself. "Shouldn't you be the one serving the tea?"
"That's your job. Of course you're the one serving it. Now go. Stop talking. Bring the tea and serve it."
Uncle Rondel pushed him into the dark room.
Only a few candles flickered around the Duke's desk.
"Bring the tea here."
The voice was low and deep.
Cassian spoke without looking at him, eyes fixed on the papers before him.
'He knew I brought tea even before I entered?
Maybe the rumors are true—that he's a high-level swordsman and mage.'
Noah only dared to speak inside his head.
His lips stayed shut, afraid to utter even a breath of sound.
With nervous fingers, he placed the tea on the farthest corner of the desk, away from the papers.
He set a plate of desserts beside it.
He tried not to leave a single sound, not to disturb Cassian.
But luck was cruel.
His arm accidentally brushed the cup—tea spilled across Cassian's clothes.
Cassian slowly put down his papers and stood.
Without a word, he grabbed Noah by the throat.
"It seems you've grown tired of living."