There was an elegant study room with papers strewn about.

There were parchments everywhere, as well as shelves full of manuscripts that appeared to be made of rare wood.

The room was enormous, and two guards in crystal red armor stood guard outside.

A young boy sat in a chair inside the room, reviewing the various manuscripts on the table.

He had deep gray eyes, pure silver hair, pointy ears, and a handsome face. He was dressed in an opulent red robe and wore a purple crown on his head.

But others didn't realize that the person sitting here was not the Ravalar kingdom's fourth prince.

Instead, he was a complete outsider who had taken over the prince's body.

The fourth prince, or Paul Brown, sat in a chair, lost in thought.

He has been a part of this world for five long years.

Since entering this world, he has seldom been cognizant, and the majority of the time since birth, he has been inactive.

He could already sense the prior memories fading from his head.

His head was beginning to hurt, and everything appeared to be in disarray.

Everything was chaotic, and he had the impression that everything up to this point had been a haze.

A gray-robed old man sitting across the room stood up abruptly and softly said.

"Is there something wrong with you, Prince?"

His voice sounded ancient, but it had an odd gentleness to it. The old man had a bald head, no brows, and a thick red mustache on his face, as well as wrinkles all over.

He shook his head and said softly, "I'm just tired of reading all of these manuscripts."

Paul didn't have a childlike demeanor, and the people around him seemed to be used to it.

"You must not say that, prince; your ancestors' history defines you, so you must be careful."

He was extremely patient, taking a book from one of the many shelves and explaining with a smile.

"This is Essear's beauty, my prince."

"Even if you are incredibly strong and have incredible power to overthrow kingdoms, at the end of the day, after many centuries have passed, we will all forget about it."

He pulled up a chair and sat next to Paul.

"However, we never forget legacy; the magnificent things you do are recorded in history and live on forever."

Paul realized, despite his boredom, that he had an innate, childlike curiosity for things like history, especially in this new land full of foreign and unfamiliar history.

"But what good is this legacy, elder?"

"It happens after we die, and we get nothing out of it, do we?"

"What is legacy, my dear prince?"

"It is what dictates how society is structured, and it is basically why you live in a castle and the commoner children live in the slums," the elder said calmly.

The old man handed him the manuscript and said, "This is the legacy that you inherited, your highness, so you must understand everything about it."

'Ancient History'

This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

That was the title of the book that had been placed in front of him.

Even though he was only five years old, he had a sharp mind and understood the majority of the characters in the ancient language that the Aasimarians spoke.

He then gradually began reading the manuscript, which not only helped him understand the great history mentioned in it but also helped him clear up some of his doubts about the Aasimarian race.

Essear had been around for a long time and had witnessed the rise and fall of many species that had lived there.

However, because many of the races lacked rational minds and civilization, records were not kept, and the history of the world was somewhat hazy.

Fortunately, despite being a violent and bloodthirsty race, the Aasimarians were wise enough to start writing down their history, and every two thousand years was a separate "age."

The first recorded history began during the Gospel Age when many tribes of the race still practiced a religious faith known as the 'Gospel of the Red.'

It had presumably ruled the entire area where the Aasimarians now live for hundreds of thousands of years by forcing them to worship a manifestation of the world known as the "Lord of the Red."

And, according to their accounts, he was not a god, but rather a spirit that existed in each of their souls and linked them together as a race.

But, led by a priest working in the main temple, a group of powerful tribal lords overthrew the faith and divided the many lands into feudal lands, each ruled by a separate feudal lord, ushering in the "feudal age," which lasted another two thousand years before the first united empire of Aasimarians formed.

And it was founded by none other than his ancestor, Elidyr the Enlightened, the greatest conqueror known to his race.

He, who was only one of many feudal lords, summoned a massive army from nowhere and conquered the entire territory. It became a fairytale, songs and legends were written about him, and even today, when visiting the ancient capital, which is now deserted, anyone can sense the glory that once existed.

As he slowly turned the pages, he realized that all of his ancestors' glory didn't belong to him.

He was neither the real prince nor a member of this foreign culture, so it had no meaning for him.

"However, I can't help but notice the resemblance between my race and the elves.

"Although there are some differences, our body structures share some similarities." He noticed as he continued to read.

He felt a pang in his head as if everything else were shaking, and he became dizzy for no apparent reason. He gripped his head and slowly lowered it.

"Are you sick, prince?" "Do you require any special attention?" The gray-robed old man was concerned about this and felt compelled to act.

"It's nothing, elder." I'm just sad that my mother and father rarely have time for me. "I've yet to meet my other siblings, so I'm just a little sad."

When this topic was brought up, the old man felt awkward.

The prince's predicament has become a well-known story throughout the kingdom.

The prince was born in the sea during a siege. It was extremely popular among both nobles and commoners.

The most important part of the story, however, was how the king did not even send a troop to assist his queen and child on their return journey, instead ignoring the situation entirely even on the eve of their return.

After that, the queen shut herself away and did not leave her chambers for years, whereas the king spent most of his time on the balcony polishing his sword and admiring nature.

"Sigh! This is a shameful situation, but how could they allow their child to be mistreated like this? "I'm powerless to intervene."

The gray-robed elder sighed as he watched the prince's back disappear out of the room.

Paul was secretly ecstatic as he walked out of the room, and he felt relieved as he deceived the old man.

"There is nothing I can't do about this elder! I know the crux of the problem, and it isn't something that can be treated so easily," Paul thought to himself as he climbed the stairs in a hallway leading to a broken down piece of a wall.

He crawled through it slowly, and it led to a small spiral staircase that led upwards.

He climbed the staircase, which led him to a small opening in the roof, through which he could see the entire red capital.

As he moved, a gentle breeze hit him.

He closed his eyes and muttered under his breath as another wave of pain struck his head: "This body rejects me! I can sense it. "I'm forced to endure so much pain daily that it's becoming increasingly difficult for me to continue."

"I can't even tell anyone else about this without raising suspicions, or else everything will be over!"

He walked back to his chambers slowly, enduring the terrible pain in his head, and it gradually began to feel better.

The castle was bustling as usual, with servants scurrying around, various noblemen from various places awaiting the king's audience, and merchants and travelers outside admiring the castle's beauty.

Paul was used to it and simply continued on his way back to his chambers, where he usually spent the majority of his time.

Everyone, whether servants or nobles, would rush to salute him whenever they saw him because it was basic etiquette in the kingdom to show respect in the presence of a royal.

But Paul didn't mind; in fact, he just wanted to get to his destination as soon as possible.

He abruptly came to a halt and changed his course to a small, shabby corner of the castle.

It was where most of the castle's junk was temporarily stored before being thrown away.

Paul approached the pile and slowly selected an item from it.

It didn't appear to be significant; rather, it appeared to be an uninteresting piece of junk that would bore everyone.

To Paul, however, it was something entirely different; it was a Kamifūsen, also known as a paper balloon.

But it did not belong in this world; rather, it belonged to Japan, which was on Earth.