Author's Note
Before we begin this chapter, just a quick announcement—well, two actually.
First:If you'd like to read more of my stories, feel free to support me on Patreon. For as little as one dollar a month—though I may raise it to three dollars soon, since that's the minimum amount Patreon allows creators to properly work with—you'll gain access to the next ten chapters of this story and every other story I'm writing. Some of them are already completed, and Patreon also includes character artwork for my female characters.
You can find me on Patreon as Trevor_25.
Second:This story is heavily inspired by the Korean novel Tyranny of Steel. Many elements of the plot take influence from it, though I've made several changes—such as character ages, a plot more centered on the protagonist, a hero torn between his desire to be like his father and his refusal to accept certain cruel truths of the world, among other differences… including some R18 content, of course.
I've also been absent for a while due to issues with YouTube and because I'm currently working on a TCG project that I know you'll love once it's finished. But starting now—and especially if you support me—I plan to upload new content every day, whether it's for this story or another one.
With nothing else to add, please enjoy the chapter.
Chapter 1: First Steps of the New Realm
Rose awoke from the frankly horrible and overwhelming experience with a strangled gasp, his voice hoarse and dry as it echoed through the great stone hall. The sound forced him to examine his surroundings with renewed focus and dignity, his gaze sweeping the room in an initially frantic search. After a more thorough inspection, he realized he had, in fact, not been reduced to ashes by his uncle's infernal fire.
Instead, he now lay in a canopy bed, and beside him—leaning close—was a beautiful teenage girl watching him with trembling eyes, as though she had been crying uncontrollably. Her name rose unbidden to his mind with startling clarity: his younger sister, Henrietta, who, despite her age, possessed remarkable beauty framed by long dark-blond hair and bright sky-blue eyes.
Those very eyes were now fixed on him with an expression that could only be described as a complex mix of genuine terror and palpable relief. And it was precisely upon noticing the depth of fear in her gaze that all the blurry points and hazy memories forcibly implanted into his subconscious aligned with his own memories. Only then did he grasp the brutal truth: he finally understood why all his brothers and sisters had warned him incessantly to avoid making deals of any kind with Lucifer.
Henrietta was his little sister—or rather, his sister in this new reality—because Lucifer, in his exasperating idiocy, could think of no better way to make him live a life similar to his father's than to insert his soul and memories into the body of a dying man. Fortunately, although he had lost his ancestral surname, he retained his first name; he was now Rose von Kufstein, son of Baron Sieghard von Kufstein and heir to the barony of the same name, soon to turn twenty in just a few months.
—He would definitely ram Desmos up his uncle's backside when he got home, and he would use the bladed edge instead of the pommel.
However, before he allowed his vengeful imagination and sadistic impulses to fully surface, his younger sister grasped his hand, tears pouring in torrents from her beautiful blue eyes. The gesture softened his heart instantly; as the older brother he was, Rose had always possessed a weakness and a strong protective instinct toward his younger siblings—a quality that, fortunately, had survived the transfer.
"I thought I'd lost you! Thank God you're alive, brother!"
In truth, that was all Rose managed to extract from the jumble of sobs and half-comprehensible whimpers spilling from his sister, who, once she finished her declaration, made the sign of the cross and began reciting a brief prayer in Latin. For a moment, he felt the overwhelming urge to remind Henrietta that God didn't particularly enjoy being prayed to, and that He preferred His creations to live their lives without obsessing over being cast into Hell for every minor misstep. However, he stopped himself immediately, aware that she was his sister in this new world and thus had never met the frankly pleasant Father of All Gods he knew personally.
Deciding it was imperative to take the time needed to sort through his memories and reaffirm his identity, Rose simply lay back and began reflecting on the twenty new years of life he now possessed. It was a tediously demanding task, as he had to reorganize an entire existence while making sure not to mix it with his previous life as the Prince of the largest empire the world had ever known.
In summary, this world resembled the Fifth Era back home, though with some key differences. Despite being in the Late Middle Ages, the Holy Roman Empire was still at the height of its power, whereas in the Fifth Era it had already entered a state of obvious decline. Most of the historical timeline was, in principle, identical to the one he knew.
However, some rather drastic changes stood out compared to his prior knowledge. For one, the Schism between East and West had never occurred; therefore, the Orthodox and Catholic Churches remained, in practice, a single entity. This meant he would have to proceed with extreme caution around the Inquisition, as its power remained immense and nearly absolute within the social structure of the era.
Of course, this also brought strategic advantages. Since the West had never been deemed heretical, the Byzantines had not fallen when the Crusades were declared following the Saracen recapture of the Holy Land. In fact, the Byzantine Empire had been granted new lands, for in the Church's eyes, they held divine right over the territory. In other words, the Byzantines still possessed near-complete control over the Mediterranean, as the Fourth Crusade had barely affected their dominance.
Even so, Rose decided there was no reason to worry about major powers at the moment, and he continued reviewing everything meticulously. Fortunately, many historical figures from his timeline remained largely unchanged, and the few alterations that did exist were not significant within the grand tapestry of history. Still, this did not mean there weren't profound shifts within the Holy Roman Empire itself, and Rose realized he would need to find a clever way to shorten the duration of those conflicts without earning a death sentence for treason or interference from the current Emperor.
But he was digressing. The central point of his analysis was that, at present, the Kingdom of Italy and its monarch ruled with undisputed supremacy, while the Kingdom of Germany had degraded into a secondary state within the imperial structure. The latter was now on the brink of large-scale civil war, with various feudal powers fiercely competing for the vacant—or disputed—throne.
With just those two monumental changes, Rose already felt his head was going to explode; and there were still countless more differences he needed to review if he truly wished to understand the main divergences between his original world and this new reality. Moreover, his inescapable duty remained the restoration of peace and prosperity to this world; thus, he had an immense amount of work ahead. Fortunately, his father had practically beaten into him the wise habit of taking strategic breaks to avoid collapse from exhaustion.
Even so, the headache had already settled with stubborn force, compelling him to press his fingers against his temples in an attempt to ease the throbbing ache. This gesture caused Henrietta—who had not released his hand since finishing her prayer—to notice and immediately mistake it for a sign that his illness persisted. The misunderstanding was not far from the truth, for Rose could feel how pale and frail this body was, exhaustion clinging down to the bones. But such subtleties meant little to his sister, who bolted out of the room at once.
"I'm going to get the doctor!" she cried as she rushed through the doorway, her elegant dress fluttering wildly with every hurried step.
And it was in that moment that Rose turned completely pale—so much so that, had his throat not been utterly dry, he would have screamed to stop her. Based on what he knew of medieval medicine, the treatment for a persistent headache would quite literally be to open his skull—a practice that would definitely kill him for good. Yet with his throat parched and his body weak and feeble, he had no way of stopping her. So he remained alone, mind racing a thousand kilometers per second, desperately trying to figure out a way to avoid having his skull pierced open. Ironically, the frenzy of panic only made his headache worsen.
Damn stress! he screamed internally.
End of Chapter