Valerian led him down a long, stone corridor. Judging by the hollow echo of their footsteps and the sheer massiveness of the walls, they were indeed inside a castle. Tall, arched windows lined the corridor, offering a panoramic view of the city below. The city was a sprawling metropolis of stone buildings. Narrow streets, like winding veins, intertwined with broad avenues, creating a labyrinth of life and movement. The castle, perched high on a hill overlooking this sea of stone, seemed like an impregnable cliff, its high walls and towers casting a majestic silhouette against the brightening sky.

"I trust you're hungry," Valerian turned back, his steps muffled on the stone floor. "The Duke organized a feast today to celebrate his daughter's safe return. Many nobles are here, the entire elite of the Stormborn Dominion. Everyone is eager to see the Duke's daughter's savior."

Victor's cautionary words echoed in Aren's mind: Try to avoid attracting more attention than you already have. He sighed heavily, anticipating the agonizing attention of the crowd, the intrusive gazes, and the social interactions that always made him feel out of place. The mention of food made him aware of his own hunger; despite having recently eaten on Earth, it was an unusual sensation for his mind.

Finally, they reached the doors to the dining hall. The moment Aren stepped across the threshold, the sheer magnificence of the room stole his breath. Bathed in the rays of daylight, the hall was truly a breathtaking sight. The high ceilings seemed to soar into the heavens, supported by massive stone columns whose gray solidity contrasted with the elegance of the stained-glass windows. The colorful glass panes filtered the light, casting a kaleidoscope of vibrant patterns on the floor, painting the stone with all the colors of the rainbow. A long, dark wooden table, polished to a mirror sheen, stretched across the entire hall like a river. High-backed chairs, upholstered in deep blue velvet, beckoned with their softness. From the walls, from the tall stone columns, hung banners with the Dominion's coat of arms – a head resembling a bear, but with long, sharp ears and blue eyes. Golden threads in the banners' embroidery sparkled, adding to the room's splendor. The room buzzed with activity, like a beehive. Servants scurried about, carrying trays laden with food and drinks, guards in gleaming armor stood along the walls, and nobles in bright attire chatted, preparing for the feast.

Aren immediately noticed the Duke. He had already risen from the table to greet his guest. Dressed like a true aristocrat, in colorful garments of expensive fabrics, with simple yet elegant jewelry, the Duke exuded an aura of power. He was a mountain of muscle and flesh – nearly two meters tall, with broad shoulders and muscles that seemed to have been carved by a skilled sculptor. Even his rich clothing couldn't hide this raw power. Thick, slightly long dark hair framed his face, and a neatly trimmed beard emphasized his strong chin. But what stood out most were his piercing dark blue eyes, gazing with commanding attention.

"Aren, you're finally here!" exclaimed the Duke, spreading his arms wide in greeting. "I was afraid you wouldn't wake up for the feast! Come closer!" His loud voice boomed across the hall like a clap of thunder. Every eye, as if on command, turned to Aren. Dozens of pairs of eyes stared at him, burning through him. Aren's head was already starting to ache from all this attention.

Valerian gave Aren a slight nod, indicating that he should approach the Duke himself. Aren, trying to maintain a composed appearance, slowly walked forward. The guests parted before him, as if before a messiah, clearing a path to the ducal family. Isla gave him a warm, encouraging smile, as if to say that everything would be alright, clearly noticing how uncomfortable Aren felt under the scrutinizing gazes. Although he was older than most of those present, socializing was never his forte; he preferred to speak with actions, or with his fists.

"My name is Darius Stormborn, and I am the Duke of this Dominion," Darius introduced himself when Aren reached the table. "Allow me to introduce my family. My wife, Lady Oriana." He gestured towards a woman with a proud posture, whose sharp gaze seemed capable of piercing through anything. "My daughters: Kyra, the eldest," he then indicated the tall, dark-haired girl who clearly took after her father. "and Isla, the youngest," the Duke nodded towards a girl who offered Aren a polite smile, her delicate features and curly chestnut hair a clear inheritance from her mother. "And my son, Leo." Next to the Duke sat a young man, a copy of his father with short hair and no beard, but already showing signs of a commanding presence. "I hope you all get along."

Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

"It's a pleasure," Aren replied, trying to speak casually. He didn't know the local etiquette, but decided not to bow. After all, these aristocrats were young enough to be his children.

"First and foremost, I want to thank you for saving my daughter," Darius continued, his voice becoming lower and more serious. "If something had happened to her..." The Duke clenched his huge fist so tightly that his knuckles turned white. The air around him seemed to thicken, becoming heavy and tense. Aren's body wanted to retreat, but his will did not falter, and a gasp swept through the hall. Lady Oriana, noticing the change in her husband's mood, gently touched his hand. The ominous aura, as if by the wave of a magic wand, immediately dissipated. "Oh, forgive me, Aren, I've completely lost my manners," the Duke smiled apologetically. "Now then," Darius leaned closer to Aren and continued so that only he could hear, "I sincerely thank you, not as a Duke, but as a father." The Duke straightened up and continued in his usual tone. "We have sent a letter to your parents, informing them of your heroic deed and your whereabouts. So don't worry, they should arrive within a week."

"To my parents?" Aren asked, bewildered. Okay, this complicates things. Parents would immediately realize I'm not their son.

The Duke raised his eyebrows in surprise, noticing the librarian's confusion. But Valerian tactfully approached him and whispered in Darius's ear about Aren's amnesia.

"Ah, I see, what a misfortune..." the Duke said sympathetically, shaking his head. "Don't worry, Aren, sit with us at the table, you are our special guest. I have a toast."

Aren, feeling a bit confused, approached the chair next to Leo. He tried to pull out the massive chair, but it was so heavy that it only moved a couple of centimeters. What the hell? Why is this chair so heavy? The guests' eyes were glued to Aren, which triggered a minor panic. Not wanting to embarrass himself on his second day in this world, he grabbed the back of the chair with both hands, shifted his weight to his feet, and finally moved it. He sat down and, with a similar maneuver, pulled it closer to the table. Am I really that weak? I was able to beat up these mercenaries.

Leo turned to Aren, leaning slightly towards him.

"In Stormborn castle, we make everything for men heavier. Even mundane tasks are a form of training here."

"I see, that's an interesting approach." I respect that, but a warning would have been nice to avoid embarrassing myself in front of the local elite.

"By the way, thanks for saving my sister. She's a real pain sometimes..." Leo interrupted himself, catching his slip. He cleared his throat and adopted a more stoic demeanor. "Thanks again. Let's listen to my father's toast, he has a surprise."

Aaren felt a bit awkward; in the library, his intention wasn't so much to help anyone, but to finally give someone a good beating after ten long years. Saving Isla was just a convenient bonus.

Darius, without sitting down, took his glass filled with sparkling wine again and announced in a voice like a roll of thunder, "I have an announcement!"

All the guests who hadn't yet taken their seats at the table hurried to sit down, grabbing their glasses. A tense silence fell over the hall, all eyes fixed on the Duke.

"Today, we have gathered here to celebrate the safe return of my daughter, Isla, from a long and dangerous journey," Darius began, his voice solemn. "She faced a terrible fate, vile mercenaries made a heinous attempt on her life. But today we celebrate life, not mourn losses, and it's all thanks to this brave man," the Duke turned towards Aren and pointed at him. "This young man, a simple librarian, showed such bravery and courage that many renowned warriors would envy. He helped my daughter leave the library unharmed, risking his own life. According to the ancient law of the Stormborn Dominion, any commoner who saves the life of a member of the ducal family is granted a noble title! Therefore, I, Darius Stormborn, Duke of the Dominion, officially declare that you, Aren Stilllbrook, are henceforth a nobleman of our Dominion and a part of the Stormborn family!" Darius raised his glass high in the air, and the entire hall erupted in cheers, welcoming the new nobleman. Musicians, somewhere on the balcony behind, struck up a lively march. People began to eat and feast, the hall filled with life, laughter, and merriment. However, Aren noticed that some of the nobles sitting at the table were clearly displeased with this news, their faces expressing discontent and even contempt. Aren sat there, as if struck by lightning, his face frozen in a complete absence of emotion.

Fuck...