Chapter 2: A New Life, A New Family, A mysterious Power
Waking in a Strange World
Lukas stirred in bed as his consciousness returned slowly. The lingering pain of his last battle — the echoes of his defeat — felt like a distant memory as he awoke in unfamiliar surroundings. Soft light filtered through the curtains, the smell of fresh linen, and polished wood filled the room. The stark contrast between this peaceful environment and the blood-soaked battlefield of his final moments in Murim sent a wave of confusion through him.
As his eyes adjusted, he found himself lying in an ornate bed; the likes of which he had never seen in his former life. His surroundings were opulent—walls adorned with tapestries, a ceiling carved with intricate designs, and furniture that gleamed with a polish that spoke of wealth and care. But what caught his attention most were his own hands, small and delicate hands, not those of the formidable demonic patriarch he once was.
“This isn’t my body,” Lukas thought. His heart was pounding as panic began to rise. “Where am I? What is this place?”
Before he could make sense of it, the door to the room opened and a tall, imposing man entered. He had a strong, commanding presence, with dark hair streaked with grey, and a neatly trimmed beard that framed a face lined with worry. His intense gaze softened as it met Lukas’s eyes; he hurried to the bedside.
“Lukas, my boy,” the man said. His voice was rich and deep, tinged with relief. “You’re awake. Thank the heavens.”
Lukas blinked, trying to understand. “Lukas?” Was that his new name? The man’s face, while unfamiliar, sparked something within the fragmented memories of this body. “Father…?”
The man’s eyes, now glistening with unshed tears, looked at Lukas with a mix of overwhelming relief and lingering concern. “You’ve been so ill, Lukas,” he said. His voice quivering slightly. “We feared we might lose you.”
Lukas opened his mouth to speak but his throat was parched. All that came out was a raspy sound. The man—his new father—Duke Reinhardt von Altheim, if he recalled correctly, quickly reached for a glass of water on the bedside table.
“Here. Drink slowly,” Duke Reinhardt said while holding the glass to Lukas’s lips.
Lukas sipped the water cautiously, his mind racing. ”Ill? So that’s why I’m here…” He needed to know more but his body felt weak and his thoughts were still disjointed.
Before he could gather himself, the door burst open again, and a young girl rushed in. Her auburn hair bounced with each step. She couldn’t have been more than twelve. Her blue eyes widened with excitement. “Father, is he really awake?” she asked breathlessly. When she saw Lukas sitting up, her face lit up with joy. “Lukas! You’re okay!”
‘This must be Cecilia.’ Lukas thought as she dashed to his side. She threw her arms around him in a tight hug. Her energy was almost overwhelming. “I was so worried! You’ve been asleep for so long!”
Lukas stiffened at the unfamiliar sensation of being embraced. He had never experienced such affection before—his previous life had been one of harsh discipline and constant struggle. He hesitated, then awkwardly patted her back, unsure of how to respond.
Cecilia pulled back, her smile radiant. “I knew you’d wake up! I just knew it!”
Duke Reinhardt chuckled, ruffling Cecilia’s hair affectionately. “I told you he’d be fine, didn’t I? Our Lukas is stronger than he looks.”
Before Lukas could respond, another figure entered the room—a woman with the same auburn hair as Cecilia. Her face softened with relief. She moved with grace and her presence filled the room with a calm warmth. “My darling boy,” she murmured. Her voice filled with emotion as she approached the bed. “How do you feel?”
Lukas met her gaze, recognizing her as “Lady Elena von Altheim”—his new mother. The love and concern in her eyes were foreign to him, yet oddly comforting. “I… I feel a little tired,” Lukas replied with his voice still weak but growing steadier.
Lady Elena’s eyes shimmered with tears as she gently cupped his face. “You gave us such a fright, Lukas. We’ve been praying for your recovery every day.”
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“Mother,” Cecilia chimed in. “He’s awake now. That means he’s going to be okay, right?”
Lady Elena nodded, smiling through her tears. “Yes, darling. Lukas is going to be just fine.”
Lukas observed the interaction with a mixture of curiosity and discomfort. He had never known such genuine care and affection in his previous life. His upbringing in the Heavenly Demonic Cult had been brutal, focused solely on power and survival. This was a completely different world—one where he was loved and protected.
‘This family… they truly care for this boy.’ he thought as he is still trying to process the emotions welling up inside him. It was almost overwhelming—the feeling of being cared for without any ulterior motive.
As the family continued to fuss over him, Lukas struggled to maintain his composure. He knew he had to play along, to act the part of the young boy they believed him to be. “I’m sorry for worrying you,” he said softly, lowering his gaze as he spoke.
Duke Reinhardt placed a reassuring hand on Lukas’s shoulder. “There’s nothing to apologise for, my boy. What matters is that you’re here with us now.”
Lady Elena smiled gently. “You’re our precious son, Lukas. We’ll always be here for you.”
Cecilia nodded enthusiastically, her eyes shining with determination. “And I’ll always be here to look after you, too! We’re family, and that means we stick together no matter what!”
‘Family…’
The word echoed in Lukas’s mind, foreign and unfamiliar. He had never known a family, not in the true sense. The concept was strange to him, but as he looked at their sincere expressions, he felt something stir within him—something he couldn’t quite name.
The door to his room opened once more. An elderly man with a kind face entered. His silver hair was neatly combed and he wore a long, flowing robe that marked him as someone of importance. “Ah, it’s good to see you awake, young master Lukas,” he said with a warm smile. “I am Alphonse, the family’s physician. How are you feeling?”
Lukas nodded politely. “I feel… better. Just a little weak.”
Alphonse approached the bed. His experienced eyes carefully assess Lukas. “That’s to be expected after such a long illness. Your body needs time to regain its strength.” He glanced at Duke Reinhardt. “He’ll need plenty of rest. And we should continue with the nutritional regimen we discussed.”
“Of course, Alphonse,” Duke Reinhardt agreed. “We’ll do whatever it takes to ensure Lukas makes a full recovery.”
Lady Elena brushed a strand of hair from Lukas’s forehead. “We’ll be with you every step of the way, Lukas. There’s no need to worry about anything.”
Lukas nodded, trying to hide the turmoil within him. He had never had anyone to rely on before; never had anyone who would care for him like this. It was both comforting and unsettling. ‘I need to understand this world,’ he thought. ‘If I’m going to survive and fulfil my goals, I need to learn everything I can.’
As the day progressed, Lukas found himself slowly acclimating to his new reality. His family never left his side, ensuring he had everything he needed and constantly reassuring him of their love and support. It was a strange experience for him—one that left him feeling both vulnerable and strangely secure.
Processing the New Reality
Once the door closed and he was finally alone, Lukas let out a shaky breath while trying to steady himself. He sat up in bed, looking around the room with a critical eye. The reality of his situation was beginning to set in. He wasn’t in Murim anymore. He wasn’t the fearsome demonic patriarch but a young boy in a completely different world.
‘Knights, castles, magic,’ he thought, trying to absorb the new information. He knew nothing of this world’s rules or its power structures, but he was determined to learn. He couldn’t afford to be ignorant. Not if he wanted to survive and achieve his goals. His thoughts drifted back to the sects that had betrayed him. The bitter taste of defeat is still fresh in his mind.
But could revenge even be possible in this new world? He clenched his small fists, frustration bubbling up inside him. He could feel the remnants of power within him, not the dark chi he was used to, but something different—something magical. It was faint and unrefined but it was there. ‘Magic,’ he thought again. The spark of flame Cecilia had conjured confirmed it.
Lukas focused, trying to tap into this new power. He felt a warmth in his chest and a tiny flicker of light appeared above his palm just like the flame Cecilia had shown him. It was weak, almost insignificant compared to the destructive force he once commanded, but it was a start. A faint smile tugged at his lips. He had a long way to go but this was a proof that power existed in this world—power he could eventually master.
Learning to Adapt
Lukas began to acclimate to his new life over the next few days. His body, still weak from the illness, forced him to take things slowly. Duke Reinhardt visited him daily; teaching him about their family, the noble houses, and the basics of swordsmanship, and magic. The lessons were simple, clearly meant for a child but Lukas soaked up the information like a sponge, hiding the depth of his understanding.
“Remember, Lukas,” Duke Reinhardt said one day during their lesson. “Magic is a powerful tool but it requires discipline and control. Rushing will only lead to disaster.”
“Yes, Father,” Lukas replied, keeping his expression innocent. Inwardly, he was already analysing everything, planning how to push these limits in his own way.
Lady Elena often stayed by his side, ensuring he was comfortable and well-fed. She fussed over him making sure he had everything he needed. Her gentle touch and soothing words were foreign to Lukas who had never known such care. He found himself drawn to her warmth, even though it unsettled him.
“You must take your time, Lukas,” she said softly one evening as she tucked him into bed. “You’ve been through so much. Don’t push yourself too hard.”
“I won’t, Mother.” Lukas replied. His voice barely above a whisper. Her concern was genuine, and that made him want to protect this family in return. ‘They’re not like the people in Murim,’ he realised. ‘They don’t deserve the same fate.’
Cecilia, on the other hand, was a whirlwind of energy. She dragged Lukas around the estate, showing him her favorite spots and insisting on teaching him the little magic she knew. “It’s so cool, Lukas! Look, if you just focus like this, you can make the flames dance!”
Lukas humored her, trying to mimic her actions. While she laughed and played, he was quietly learning, observing how this world’s magic worked. He kept his progress hidden, pretending to struggle more than he actually did. He knew that showing too much too soon could raise questions he wasn’t ready to answer.
“You’ll get it eventually,
With that, the room was quiet once more, and Lukas was left alone with his thoughts. He stared at the ceiling, trying to process everything that had happened. *This world… it’s so different from Murim. But it’s not just the world—it’s these people, this family.*
He closed his eyes, focusing on the faint, unfamiliar energy that coursed through his small body. It wasn’t the dark chi he had once wielded, but something else—something he could mold and shape with time. *Magic,* he thought, remembering the small flame Cecilia had conjured earlier. It was weak, but it was real. And if magic and Chi existed in this world, then there was potential for power.
*I will learn this world’s secrets,* he vowed silently. *I will master this…new Power