Waking up, Karl saw the ceiling above him, made of rough-hewn stone that formed an arch, lending an ancient, almost medieval feel to the room. The air was cool and slightly damp, a stark contrast to the sterile, controlled environment he was accustomed to. As his eyes adjusted to the dim light, he noticed the walls adorned with intricate tapestries depicting scenes of valor and conquest, faded with time but still exuding a sense of grandeur. The furniture was sparse yet functional - a heavy wooden table with a few scattered parchments, an inkwell, and a quill, and a large, imposing bed made of dark wood with thick blankets thrown over it.

The room bore no resemblance to his modern, minimalist apartment. Instead, it whispered stories of a bygone era, a world where power and lineage dictated one's fate. The faint smell of burning wood and herbs lingered in the air, mingled with a heavy medicinal scent that spoke of healing balms and potent elixirs. This olfactory blend hinted at the presence of a hearth or a fireplace nearby, possibly used for both warmth and the preparation of remedies. Karl sat up, his head spinning slightly as he tried to reconcile this strange environment with his last memory of the alley and the ensuing chaos.

As he swung his legs off the bed, his feet touched the cold, stone floor, sending a shiver up his spine. He noticed his attire – no longer the casual jeans and t-shirt, but a garment made of thick, coarse fabric, resembling the attire of nobility he had seen in history books. The realization dawned on him that he was no longer in his own world, but had somehow been transported into the body of Alan, the young noble he had learned about.

Hearing the commotion, Jake and Ellis hurried into the room, their demeanor immediately shifting to one of utmost respect as they beheld Karl, now the youngest son of the count. They bowed their heads slightly, maintaining a careful distance, a gesture that spoke volumes of the strict hierarchy within the House of Browndall.

Looking at Jake and Ellis, Karl experienced a sudden, almost overwhelming influx of memories that were not his own. These were the memories of Alan, the original soul of the body he now inhabited. It was as if a floodgate had opened, allowing Karl to access a wealth of information about his new identity's past, including intimate knowledge about Jake and Ellis.

Through Alan's memories, Karl understood that Jake was more than just a loyal servant to the House of Browndall. He was a trusted advisor and a stalwart protector, having served the family for many years with unwavering dedication. Karl could see scenes from Alan's past where Jake had been a constant presence, often guiding and reprimanding the young noble for his reckless behavior.

However, Alan had always responded to Jake's guidance with arrogance, like a stubborn student growing angrier under a teacher's well-intentioned direction. He had frequently indulged in all sorts of mischief, often landing himself in trouble, disregarding Jake's efforts.

Ellis, on the other hand, was a newer addition to the household but had quickly become indispensable due to his intelligence and diligence. He was younger, more approachable, and often served as a confidant to Alan in times of need. The memories showed various instances where Ellis had helped Alan out of troublesome situations, sometimes at his own risk. Yet, Alan had always remained ungrateful for this assistance, taking Ellis's help for granted.

'Master Alan, you are awake,' Jake said, his voice laced with a reverence that contrasted sharply with his broad, authoritative build. 'We are immensely relieved to see you conscious. The entire household has been fraught with worry.'

Ellis, standing a step behind Jake, added in a tone that was both deferential and concerned, 'Indeed, Master Alan, your recovery is a blessing. The healer was quite worried about the effects of the poison.'

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

Karl, still adjusting to his new identity and the high status it afforded him, nodded slowly. 'Thank you, Jake, Ellis,' he managed to say, his voice stronger than before but still tinged with uncertainty.

Both Jake and Ellis were visibly shocked at Karl's response. Their expressions turned to ones of bewilderment, as they exchanged a glance. The young master, known for his arrogance and entitlement, was thanking them? This was unprecedented. They couldn't help but wonder, had the poison affected his mind, or had the near-death experience fundamentally changed him?

Jake, maintaining his respectful stance, continued with a grave tone, 'It is our duty to protect you, especially in these turbulent times with your father, the Count, away. The audacity of this attack on you, the youngest scion of our house, cannot be overlooked.' As he spoke, both Jake and Ellis lowered themselves onto their knees, their heads bowed in a deep gesture of apology and submission. They expressed their readiness to accept the gravest punishment for failing to protect him.

Karl, taken aback by their extreme display of loyalty, hastily interjected. 'Please, stand up. There's no need for such measures. Instead, we need to focus on finding out how this happened,' he urged them, his voice firm yet compassionate, a stark contrast to the behavior expected of the original Alan.

Ellis, still on his knees, looked up with a hint of eagerness in his voice, 'Master Alan, do you recall anything about the assailant? Any detail could be crucial in our investigation.'

Karl, still coming to terms with the original Alan's reputation as a wastrel and entitled young master, felt the weight of his new role. 'I... I remember very little. It's all quite hazy,' he replied cautiously, not wanting to reveal his true identity or arouse suspicion about his sudden change in demeanor.

Jake then began to narrate what they had learned so far, a faint trace of irony creeping into his otherwise stoic demeanor. 'Master Alan, you had visited Master Yugo’s household and, as per your usual habits, indulged quite heavily. Your retinue was escorting you back to the mansion when a group of assassins struck. They swiftly overpowered the soldiers guarding you, managing to stab you in the neck. If not for the timely intervention of our head spy, Berterm, who was, ahem, discreetly ensuring your wellbeing - a task often necessitated by your... adventurous exploits - you might not have survived. Tragically, he too was struck with the poison and succumbed to it shortly after heroically bringing you back here on his back.'

The vivid tableau of Berterm's role as Alan's 'wellbeing checker' – a delicate euphemism for reigning in the young noble's notorious escapades – settled heavily in Karl's mind as he absorbed Jake's words. When Karl, his voice tinged with a blend of disbelief and curiosity, asked, "Did anyone actually expect me to survive?" the room was momentarily engulfed in a poignant hush. Ellis, his features shadowed by a melancholic hue, offered a soft, resigned "No," a single word that echoed the grim expectations surrounding Alan's fate.

As the conversation tapered off, filled with assurances from Jake and Ellis about the ongoing investigation and a promise to alert the head healer, they took their leave. Their departure was marked by a final, respectful nod, leaving Karl in the embrace of the room's grandeur, now laden with the echoes of their somber exchange.

Alone, Karl lay back against the opulent bedding, feeling its plushness contrast starkly with the turmoil churning within him. The transition from a software engineer to a demon battler in a mystical soul space, and now an unwitting noble in a labyrinthine medieval world, was nothing short of overwhelming. Each thought spiraled into the next, painting a vivid and daunting canvas of his new, bewildering reality.

Craving a touch of the familiar amidst this maelstrom of change, Karl yearned for the simplest of escapes. In times of intense stress, there was always one sanctuary he could rely on – the tranquil haven of sleep. It was his most trusted retreat, a place where the complexities and chaos of any world, real or imagined, would dissolve into the soothing void of unconsciousness.

With a deep, exhausted breath, Karl closed his eyes, letting the heavy curtain of fatigue descend upon him. He drifted toward sleep, his mind gradually quieting, surrendering the vivid, vibrant chaos of his new existence for the comforting, welcoming embrace of slumber...

Sleep...