Ethan crouched down, smiling. Wynd hopped around, his little tail wagging furiously. He spotted a butterfly, and stopped to a halt. Then, he prowled closer, slowly. One step. Then another. And another. The pup’s eyes glinted bright, and he pounced on the butterfly, only to be thwarted when it fluttered away. Wynd’s head whipped back and he whined.

Ethan chuckled. The sun’s warm, golden hue shifted across the garden under the gentle rustling of leaves in the breeze. Quite a soothing backdrop, he had to admit.

“Come here, Wynd,” Ethan called.

His ears perked, swiveling towards the sound. His tail thumped the ground once, twice, and then began a frantic blur. Small legs pushed off, propelling his tiny body in a zigzag towards the source—which, obviously, was Ethan.

Ethan’s fingers traced the Wynd’s head, settling behind the pup’s pointed ears. His hand moved in circles. Wynd’s eyes closed, his tail thumped softly against the ground, and a low, rumbling purr vibrated from his chest.

Ethan sighed, slumping on the ground, legs sprawled. His gaze flickered around involuntarily, then back to Wynd. Then, a subtle shift in his posture. His hands now stilled. A nervous laugh escaped his lips, cutting through the quiet, before he could suppress it.

He knew now. The invisible eyes were always there, relentless, probing. Yeah, he was being watched by—uh—Miss Bodyguard. He couldn’t just deny it. He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing.

Fucking creepy.

Ethan shivered.

Wynd curled up next to him, and he sighed. He leaned back, propping himself up on his elbows, and listened to the sounds of nature. The singing birds gave way to a distant murmur of water—a maid was watering flowers. He sighed, the weight of his thoughts pressing down on him.

His life had changed so much since he had transmigrated here. He had gone from an ordinary man to the son of a king. A baron with responsibilities and expectations far beyond anything he could have imagined. A shit-as-fuck reputation he was trying so hard to get himself out of. Problems that weren’t his fault but he had to deal with them regardless. Always busy. Always—always—doing something. There hadn’t been a day he’d had to himself since he got transmigrated.

So... he appreciated these small moments.

He really did.

He glanced down at Wynd, who was now dozing peacefully.

Lying there, his thoughts then drifted to the Night Whisper issue. A dark force—how cliché, he just realized, but still a threat—threatening the kingdom. Night Whisper had been a constant source of stress and danger since he had arrived. He had been thrust into the heart of it, and now he was in some brewing shitstorm.

But once this ordeal was over, he had plans. He was going to talk to his father—the king—and try to get himself out of this self-inflicted hard mode.

He chuckled at the thought. Hard mode, indeed. This world was nothing like the video games he used to play. Here, the stakes were real, and every decision had consequences. And he was done pretending he didn’t have resources. Maybe it was a way for him to maintain a sense of normalcy, maybe it was stupid and dogged delusions that this was all fake and accepting his position in this world would somehow make everything true.

Shaking his head, Ethan scratched Wynd behind the ears again.

“You know, I think it’s time to get you out there and level you up like Opie.”

Wynd had the potential to be just as strong, if not more—but it would take time and effort.

With that thought in mind, Ethan stood up, carefully lifting Wynd and cradling him in his arms. He made his way back to the mansion, the pup nestled against his chest. Inside, he found Grandma Millie and arranged for Wynd to begin his training the next day. Grandma Millie nodded approvingly.

“Good choice, Your Highness,” she said. “This little one has a lot of potential.”

Ethan smiled. “I hope so. Take good care of him.”

“Though, I do admit it would be hard for me to manage him if he levels up too much.” She cackled to herself and walked off with Wynd.

With Wynd’s future secured, Ethan decided it was time to focus on his own training. He headed to the training grounds, where he could practice his [Swordsmanship]. The grounds were empty. Ethan liked it this way; it gave him the space to concentrate.

He picked up a practice sword and began his drills. Each movement was precise and controlled. [Swordsmanship] had become a way for him to clear his mind, to focus on something tangible—just like boxing had been back on earth.

He liked fighting.

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As he moved through the forms, his thoughts drifted again. He wondered if he would ever truly feel at home in this world. He didn’t really have friends here. He did have allies who had stood by him, but there was always a part of him that felt out of place. Maybe it was because he still thought of himself as Ethan from Earth, not Theodore.

After a while, he finished his drills and set the practice sword aside. His muscles ached, but it was a good kind of ache, one that told him he was growing stronger. Next, he decided to practice his [Meditation].

He sat down cross-legged on the ground and closed his eyes, focusing on his breathing. Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale. Slowly, he felt the energy of the world around him. A gentle pulse that resonated with his own heartbeat. He let himself sink into that rhythm, feeling the tension in his body melt away.

[Meditation] was more than just a way to relax; it was a way to connect with the magic that flowed through this world.

He could feel—a warm, vibrant current that filled him with a sense of calm. He stayed like that for a while, letting the magic wash over him, until he felt completely centered.

When he finally opened his eyes, the sun had neared the horizon, and the training grounds were bathed in the light of the golden hour. More specifically, he’d gotten a welcome notification.

[Meditation] — Lvl 4 -> Lvl 5!

He stood up feeling refreshed and grinned. Oh did he love seeing his levels go up. Stretching and yawning, he made for his workshop.

Today, he was working on a water filtration system. The kingdom had many villages that struggled with clean water, and he was determined to help. Not to mention the crystal plague issue he had to deal with.

He laid out his tools and materials on the workbench and set to work. The design he had come up with was simple but effective, using a series of filters to remove impurities from the water. Well, very specific “impurities”... Though, admittedly, the water filtration system would also clean up other stuff from the water.

Heck, it wouldn’t be wrong to call it purified water.

He carefully assembled the parts, his hands moving with practiced ease. He failed. The system broke, and he had to try again. And again. And again. And once more. Again and again.

As he worked, his mind wandered off again. He thought about his father, the king. Their relationship was complicated, to say the least—well, Theodore’s and the king’s, but Ethan was going to stop making the distinction.

It didn’t quite matter anymore.

Theodore respected his father and understood the burden of leadership he carried, but there was a part of him that resented the expectations placed upon him. He didn’t want to be a prince; he just wanted to live his life on his own terms. That’s what’d led Theodore down the wrong path.

But Ethan didn’t quite carry said resentment. He quite understood the man.

He tightened the last bolt on the latest version of the filtration system and stepped back to admire his work. It wasn’t perfect, but it was a start. He would test it tomorrow and make any necessary adjustments. For now, he was satisfied with his progress, and he didn’t want to end today on a bad note—as he was quite sure it wouldn’t just magically work.

He was still trying to make the base model, after all, it would take more people to get the final model going.

He cleaned up his workshop and made his way back to his chambers. The mansion was quiet at this hour, the corridors dimly lit by flickering torches.

When he reached his chambers, he found Wynd already there, curled up on a plush cushion. The sight of the little wolf made him smile. “Looks like you’ve made yourself at home,” he said, sitting down next to the pup. He scratched Wynd behind the ears, earning a happy yip in response.

Ethan lay back on his bed, staring up at the ceiling.

***

The next day dawned clear and bright.

The early morning sun cast a warm glow over the palace grounds. Ethan woke up with a sense of purpose. A feeling that today could bring the breakthrough they so desperately needed. He quickly dressed and made his way to the meeting room, where Jack had asked for him to discuss his progress on the cure for the crystal plague.

As Ethan entered the room, he saw Jack already there, his face a mixture of exhaustion and determination.

“Morning,” Ethan greeted, taking his seat. “Jack, you said you had something important to share?”

Jack nodded, straightening up in his chair. “Yes, I do. I’ve made significant progress on the cure, and I believe we’re close to a solution.”

“Tell me everything,” Ethan urged, leaning forward.

Jack took a deep breath. “I’m going to do a few things, Lord Theodore. The Book of the Dead contains a specific necromantic spell that I can use to reverse the transformation caused by the crystal plague. This spell, once cast, targets the crystalline structures within the infected individuals and deactivates their necromantic properties. It stops the transformation process and reverts the already transformed individuals back to their human forms.”

Ethan’s eyes lit up. “That’s great!”

“However, there’s a significant drawback. The spell will cause memory loss. It’s not permanent, but it’s unavoidable.”

Ethan noticed Jack’s bummed expression and asked, “Why do you look so down about it?”

Jack sighed, his shoulders slumping. “I’d prefer not to use that spell. I want to ensure people retain their memories. Losing memories, even temporarily, is traumatic, and I want to avoid that if possible.”

Hmm... It appeared there was a story there, but Ethan wouldn’t ask about it. If Jack wanted to talk about it, he would. Ethan pondered for a moment before asking, “Is the memory loss permanent?”

Jack shook his head. “No, it’s not. The memories will return over time, but the process can be slow and unpredictable.”

Ethan looked at him intently, then blinked. “Do it. It’s better than death, and they’ll recover their memories anyway.”

“But…” Jack hesitated; his voice filled with uncertainty. He sighed again, running a hand through his hair. “I started working for you because I wanted to solve the puzzle of the Blight. I thought it was just a challenge to overcome, a problem to be solved. But somewhere along the way, I started to care. I didn’t think I would, but I do. That’s why I want to create the perfect cure. It’s not just about solving the ‘puzzle’ anymore.”

Ethan nodded. “I get it. But right now, we need to save lives. Nothing is stopping you from continuing to work on the crystal plague after people have at least recovered from crystallization. You can work on the memory loss later.”

Jack opened his mouth, then closed it again, repeating a few times before he acquiesced. “Yes, you’re right. I’m being selfish. I’ll get to work on the spell.”

Ethan gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “You’re not being selfish. You’re trying to help. And you will help. Just focus on saving lives now. The rest can come later.”

Jack nodded, a new resolve hardening his features. “I’ll get started immediately. We don’t have any time to lose.”

Ethan watched as Jack left the room, feeling a mix of relief and anticipation.