In a tidy, compact room, a teenage boy of around 15 lay on the bed, the moonlight casting a haunting red hue on his attractive face. His raven-colored hair gently framed his features as he suddenly drew in a deep breath and sat up.

With confusion in his dark blue eyes, he glanced around the room, appearing lost. Suddenly, he tumbled off the bed, dropping to his knees, his hands clutching his head in what seemed like unbearable pain.

"Argh, my head is splitting! Memories flooding in about this Nathaniel person," he groaned, wincing in pain.

Nathaniel Shadowcrest, the illegitimate child of the previous heir of the House of Shadows. His father was a mystery, and his mother, a humble servant, abandoned him at the gates, when he was 7. The current heir, the previous heir's younger brother, and his children torment him relentlessly. Today, he resolved to end his life. I suppose he succeeded, since I'm now in his body and all.

I rose from the floor, the intense pain fading away. Making my way to the humble bathroom, I splashed my face with water from the tap, then gazed up at my reflection. There, staring back at me, was my 15-year-old face, now with piercing blue eyes. How unsettling. Returning to the room, I collapsed onto the bed, running my hands across my face as I tried to process everything.

I'm not dead.

Not in hell.

I'm a younger me.

Is this reincarnation? Next life?

Suddenly, laughter bubbled up within me uncontrollably. "I'm not dead!" I exclaimed aloud, chuckling at the irony. "I wonder how those folks on Earth would react if they knew I'm not suffering for eternity, or worse, reincarnated as some bug!" I laughed for what felt like an eternity, a full 10 minutes passing by.

"Angelina would find this amusing," I thought joyously, but in an instant, my joy was extinguished at the reminder of my wife.

At dawn, I roused myself and took a shower, grateful for the modern amenity in this stiflingly small environment that was a stark contrast to the peak luxury I once knew. As water cascaded over my skinny frame, I couldn't help but sigh in dissatisfaction. Nathaniel, in this world, seemed utterly useless.

Stepping out of the shower, I dressed and settled on the floor. Retrieving a book from under the bed, I began to document what I knew:

"In this world, mana is an additional source of energy that empowers mages to cast their spells and imbues weapon users with aura.

There are four primary levels for weapon users: beginner, standard, master, and lord. Beginners have three tiers, standard has three tiers, master has seven tiers, and lord is the highest known level. It's rumored that lord level weapon users can split mountains and part seas.

Currently, I find myself at beginner tier 2. Nathan lags far behind his peers; most 15-year-olds from prestigious families are at the standard level."

"I have to catch up," I thought determinedly. "The Shadowcrest family belongs to the four duke houses governing Arkaria, our country. The House of Shadows commands the entire Southern region of Arkaria. So it appears I come from a family with a diamond spoon, though it's still coal since my supposed father, Ethan Shadowcrest, died under mysterious circumstances, leaving his younger brother to eventually be the next heir.

Luckily, my grandfather, the patriarch, is still alive and well despite being over 80. He's a spear master at tier 6, which means he likely has another good 30 years left in him, possibly even 50 if he breaks into tier 7. So my dear uncle's bullying can never go too far."

"In three months, there will be a Shadowcrest tradition," I reminded myself, "and a month after that, the start of my seven-year tenure at the Tavill Academy."

Getting up, I mentally crafted a routine to improve my stamina, strength, agility, and other essential skills.

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Leaving the tiny house perched on a hill, I gazed out at the sprawling main castle of the House of Shadows. It loomed before me, imposing, fearsome, and majestic. A sense of longing stirred within me—I wanted it, yearned for it with every fiber of my being.

Walking down the familiar pathway, I made my way towards the kitchen. The head chef, who apparently knew my father, had a soft spot for me. I was confident I'd find something to eat; I was starving and eagerly anticipating the taste of monster meat.

After a 30-minute walk, admiring the grandeur of the large castle along the way, I arrived at the kitchen. Using the same routes and pathways as the servants, I quietly took a small seat in the corner, observing the large, muscular woman who wielded the largest knife I had ever seen, expertly carving into some kind of creature. A group of younger men and women watched her with awe; she was a standard level tier 3 weapon user, which explained her ability to handle such challenging meats.

For two hours, I watched the most intense and strenuous cooking I had ever witnessed until finally, she was done.

"Nathaniel! I didn't know you were here," the chef, Madam Josie, boomed, surprising me.

The other chefs glanced at me with subtle contempt in their eyes, but I was unfazed. After all, I had been hated by millions of people on Earth.

Madam Josie served me a generous portion of steak and what appeared to be mashed potatoes. I eagerly dug in, and with each bite, I could swear I was tasting a bit of heaven.

I finished every last bit on the plate, licking it clean. Looking up at Madam Josie, I found her smiling warmly at me, and a subtle warmth stirred inside my chest, perhaps a remnant of emotions from the old Nathaniel. Clearing my throat, I prepared to speak.

"I'm glad to see you enjoyed my food," Madam Josie said before I could utter a word. "I know you don't like coming down here, so I've arranged something for you. You're an heir candidate too, but just look at your living conditions! You can't say no!"

Before I could protest, a voice boomed from behind.

"Gregory!"

A towering man stumbled in, standing at 6'2 with a muscular build and a head full of curly brown hair. His green eyes met mine, and I could see an odd innocence mixed with loneliness and hurt. What was his story?

"Gregory is my apprentice," Madam Josie announced proudly. "I can finally say his cooking skills are up to par. He is now your exclusive servant."

I attempted to say something, but Madam Josie cut in.

"Gregory, this is your master, your ONLY master. You go where he goes, you die when he says so, you bark when he says bark, okay?"

"I greet my master!" Gregory knelt at my feet, his voice earnest.

It all happened so quickly. The next thing I knew, I was walking up the hill with Gregory following closely behind, his presence palpable.

*

I needed herbs to boost my mana and improve my other traits. With just three months to avoid complete embarrassment, I decided to get some affairs straightened out.

Taking advantage of the fact that I was swiftly kicked out of the small house by Gregory because once he saw my living conditions. He said couldn't bear to see his master living like that. While Gregory attended to his tasks, I made my way towards the Department of Internal Affairs.

Walking through the magnificent halls of the House of Shadows castle, I marveled at its grandeur. Even though I was only on the outskirts, the castle was truly impressive.

The guards and maids paid me no mind, which stirred a twinge of anger within me. I had to remind myself that I was no longer the feared Mafia lord. Eventually, I arrived at the office, but I was forced to wait for an hour until the 'lord' was finally free.

Entering the office, I found a haughty-looking, skinny man with a funny-looking mustache sitting behind the desk.

"I do apologize for keeping you waiting, young master," the man said with a haughty tone, making me want to snap his neck right then and there. Patience.

I explained to the man that I needed my rations of herbs and mana crystals, as I hadn't received any in the past two years. Direct descendants were supposed to receive these rations every month.

He looked at me with an amused expression and offered a fake explanation, claiming not to know what I was talking about. My patience was hanging by a thread at this point.

"Listen closely," I said sternly, closing the distance between us. "Unless you want the patriarch to find out about this, you will give me all my rations. Don't think you'll be safe just because my uncle is backing you. If I decide to speak up, the most he'll get is a slap on the wrist, but your head will be rolling."

I could see fear creeping into the man's eyes, and it fueled a dark satisfaction within me. "You see, the truth is, I AM a direct descendant," I continued, my voice low and menacing. "If the elders were to discover that an outsider dared to insult a direct bloodline, well... let's just say your whole line might face execution."

The man trembled, fear evident in his expression, and a sense of power surged through me. This was the look I loved—the fear in someone's eyes. One day, I wouldn't need to use another's name to instill this level of fear.

"Now, dearest," I said, my tone dripping with malice, "I expect all my rations to be on my doorstep by tomorrow at dawn. My uncle should not hear about this, or else a little birdy might inform the patriarch about certain... activities." With that, I turned and walked away, leaving the man to contemplate the consequences of crossing me.

As I walked away, leaving the man to stew in fear, a thought crossed my mind. "I don't know about the previous Nathaniel," I mu

sed to myself, "but I'm Nathaniel Shadowcrest now."