His heavy eyelids puckered open, and Roland felt an uncomfortable stickiness. His view was foggy, but slowly, the more he moved his eyeballs around, the more they refound their focus.

The ceiling was moving, or rather, he was moving.

'Wait, why am I being...carried?'

He felt a weightlessness subtly hidden beneath the pain throbbing against his back. Roland observed his surroundings, and his dreary gaze narrowed with a questioning look before he traced the slender figure carefully carrying him. The scent of blood assaulted his nostrils, and his half-closed eyelids swiftly widened upon the notice of blood splatter against that mysteriously familiar violet-coloured mask.

"You're...b-back?" His voice croaked painfully.

The Willow lowered its head with those smoky glassed eyes beholding Roland.

"Young master...I...forgive me. I was too late." He muttered in that usual gentle voice. Roland felt slightly uncomfortable hearing him apologize. But he was grateful he wasn't dead, at the very least.

'He must've saved me then, but what the hell was that weird dream about?'

Roland blinked a few times, simply staring at the cold expression moulded against the peculiar relic's features. In truth, he never once considered the Willow at fault. But that was only down to his way of handling his problems. The things he could control, he never placed the burden on anyone else but himself.

But a rouge thought birthed a strange idea within him. Perhaps a new way of doing things was required for a new world. He had almost died trying to go against those two men. Back in his old life, with the training and experience he honed in the military, a situation like that would've likely resulted in him escaping with a few cuts.

Roland creased a boyish smile, remembering those days. One thing was glaringly apparent to him now: strength was key in this world, just like in his previous life.

So he wetted his lips this time in preparation before he spoke.

"I forgive you, my friend." He said affectionately.

The Willow gave him a slight nod before moving his glassed stare ahead again. Roland recalled the assassination attempt as he refocused on that splatter of blood covering the death knight's mask.

"So what happened to them?" He found the courage to ask his silent savour.

"I killed one. And one got away. But I took one of his arms...as payment." explained the death knight in his usual melodic tone.

'As payment.'

Roland furrowed his brows questioningly. He could still hear that crazed laughter whilst that psycho stabbed him repeatedly in the back.

"Which one did you kill?"

There was a brief pause between the two before the voice of the mysterious figure crept through the mask.

"The one with the iron helmet."

Roland felt a sense of gladness well up in his chest. He pictured that dandy-looking, round-faced demon, and suddenly, his aching bones were invigorated again.

"Good," said Roland with a cruel smirk. He was willing to adapt to a different way of thinking within this new world, but one constant he was assured of keeping. It was the repayment of revenge.

Once they reached the end of the long corridor, Roland felt his strength return and requested to be lowered to his feet. Surprisingly, his strength had returned quicker than he expected. He observed this youthful body of his. The clothes were torn and covered in dried blood. Should he consider this a miracle, he wondered? No, there was likely a dark truth about why his body had healed so quickly.

Only he couldn't for the life of him, work out what that was.

They stood on the upper floor. The death knight walked casually towards the wooden bannisters and looked down. Roland felt a slight uneasiness, but he approached the slender figure and planted his feet beside him. The moment he glanced over the railing, a coldness raced through his spine.

Down below, he counted up to 20 or so bodies lying in a pool of blood. A soft sand brown rug sat in the middle of the hall below. Towering twin doors sat on the far end with tall windows on either side. Judging by the clothing of the corpses, he assumed they were a mixture between the attackers and the guardsmen defending this place. He moved his gaze towards the descending stairwell, falling away from the top of the floor.

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The bodies of the maids sprawled out helplessly. His gaze met the empty look of that broad-shouldered maid from earlier. And his fingertips curled into fists until his knuckles turned pale.

He exhaled a warm breath before facing the thing he had been avoiding until now.

'Omega, can you hear me?'

{...}

{Yes, my host. I am with you}

Roland felt slightly relieved hearing that mechanical voice whirring in his thoughts again. He wasn't sure where to start, but for now, he could only express the truth sitting in his thoughts.

'I need, no, we need to get stronger. I'll need your help with that, and I hope you'll support me along this journey we face ahead of us. Omega.'

Roland wasn't sure exactly what he expected from an Artificial intelligence system. He knew things would be difficult; this was entirely new territory for him. But thankfully, he had Omega with him.

He felt anxious when he heard that first mechanical sound racing through his thoughts.

"I understand my host. Omega will assist and guide the host in whichever way it can to facilitate your growth. Omega hopes to be a valuable asset that you can rely on.}

Roland smiled, unknowingly listening to that. He closed his two eyes and placed a hand against his chest.

"Thank you, " he muttered softly beneath his breath. The twin doors suddenly flung aside, startled.

Roland and his death knight stood rooted against their heels in wait. The smokey wind from the outdoors walked inside, and Roland narrowed his sharp gaze at the burly figure below, covered in heavy furs stiffened from frozen rain.

Brutus heaved heavy breaths as he walked into the manor, his face filled with fury. He tossed his glare around the hall before he peered up the stairwell. Roland locked eyes with the forked bearded fellow, and a noticeable look of relief drowned the anger away from his defined features.

"Thank heavens," Said Brutus, walking inside.

Brutus quickened up the spiralling stairwell, and Roland was shocked by the sudden bear hug embrace he received. He wasn't quite sure the giant knew his own strength by the careless way he squeezed his small frame. A few wheezing breaths later, he was finally freed and placed back down to his feet.

"I heard the news of the attack!" Brutus sounded, shuffling Roland around like a ragdoll whilst he inspected his body.

"Young Lord, have you been hurt anywhere? What happened to your clothes? And why is there blood on you?" With all the questions flying his way, Roland wasn't quite sure where to start. Also, he wasn't quite sure what to say right now, considering he still had no idea how he was still alive.

"Shit! You!" Brutus pointed towards the silent shadow lingering behind Roland.

"Why was the young Lord not protected?" He hissed with venom. Roland was about to speak up when he noticed a strange thing taking place. A faint white smoke appeared around Lord Brutus' hulking physique. Roland remembered seeing something similar briefly beforehand.

'That psycho had it coated around his dagger. Perhaps it has to do with...' A sudden realization flashed across his mind.

'Omega, what am I looking at right now.'

{Omega senses a dense amount of the energy source known as Ki}

Roland relaxed his brows after hearing that. He had expected that to be the case. Meanwhile, his death knight had silently appeared beside him and dropped to his knees again before bowing his head solemnly.

"I am unworthy to hold the title of protector. Forgive me for failing to keep the young Lord safe. I am willing to carry out any punishment deemed necessary for my crimes." It spoke without flinching a muscle.

Lord Brutus wore a mask of anger, glaring down at the figure with disdain.

"Your entire existence is to serve and protect. Failing that, why else are you alive."

"The Lord speaks truths. Shall I rip out my spine in response to my failings?" It said in response.

Roland shuddered at the mention of that. He tossed his gaze between the two of them, wondering why they had to be so intense. He cleared his throat loudly before sheepishly holding up a single hand in protest.

"Err, might I add some important details." He said with a slight smile.

His eyes lowered to the side, beholding the strange masked fellow beside him. No doubt, without his involvement, things might've gone from bad to worse. Perhaps the miraculous recovery of his body also had something to do with him. Who could say at this point? But Roland was assured he was one of the only two people he could trust right now.

"He saved me, " he eventually said with a warm smile. So I...I need him alive."

Brutus searched the boy's face in silence, his chiselled features stiff, with a slight look of annoyance forming wrinkles. Roland turned his eyes away beneath the pressure, hoping the large brute wasn't about to scold him. Instead, Brutus ran his gloved hands through his thick black hair and exhaled a pent-up breath of frustration.

" Fine, if he has curried your favour. Then...who am I to say otherwise." Lord Brutus formed a forced smile before lightly patting Roland against his bony shoulders and saying.

"I'm just glad you're alive. Well done." He walked away down the hall with his head slightly lowered. Roland watched the broad back of his slowly marshalling away. He felt something was off, more so because Lord Brutus never once gave the dead bodies a second look.

The shadowy figure rose behind him; as per custom, Roland shivered before slowly turning around to face him. By this time, he could already sense what was about to happen, so he stopped the masked figure in place and spoke some words of his own.

"You don't need to thank me or fall on your knees either, " he said, narrowing his gaze as he noticed one of the willows' legs begin to bend.

"Without you, I wouldn't have made it. So I...owe you one. But you also owe me one. I was forced to fend against those two horrible fellows on my own. And look at me—I can barely look after myself, let alone fight two seasoned warriors in this state...so I guess...I guess." Roland stumbled upon an idea as his eyes suddenly brightened with life.

"Yes, that's it; I need you to train me. That'll be how you make amends. I need to become stronger, fast! So, regardless of how dangerous it might be. You must swear to make sure I'm strong enough to handle those psychos. Next time, I won't be so weak; next time, I'll...I'll kill them myself." Declared Roland, clenching his fists tightly beside his side.