[Location: Evara Concordant – Border of the Principality of Virelia – Arkwyn Territory]
Lucien Ardent only felt a severe headache.
In a trance, he could still hear someone shouting beside him, a little hurried.
"Young master, wake up. Arkwyn Territory is just ahead."
Lucien reluctantly opened his eyes, blinking sleepily at the old man in front of him.
A washed, snow-white shirt, a black vest and bow tie, a formal tuxedo, straight-pressed black trousers, and gleaming leather shoes. His hair was thinning but neatly combed, and his posture was ramrod straight despite his age.
A meticulous and solemn old butler.
That was Lucien's first impression of the man.
"Master Kael, we're nearly at Arkwyn. You may want to prepare to disembark."
Lucien, just barely roused from sleep, slowly rose from the carriage cushions and rubbed at his temples. After a full night of absorbing memories, the once-chaotic fragments in his mind were finally settling into place.
The confusion, paired with a throbbing ache in his skull, intertwined—
I am Lucien Ardent, a professional player of the Arcana Dominion guild in the next-generation full-dive virtual game "Eclipse of Aetherion."
I am Kael D. Evernight, a half-blood succubus, born illegitimately and now fleeing to the fief of my father—a baron of the human realm, situated within the Evara Concordant near the Principality of Virelia.
At this moment, these two identities had fused into one.
Like a dream—strange, cold, vivid.
His slender fingers clutched the hem of his coat tightly. They were pale, almost sickly, like chilled porcelain. His expression was cold and blank.
But he had to accept one thing:
He had transmigrated.
He'd crossed into the world of Eclipse of Aetherion, the No. 1 ranked title in the international virtual network, and had awakened in the timeline before the game was even released.
A full night of memories had passed through his head like a storm, and now, as he stirred, his mind felt swollen and numb.
Before the crossing, he had been leading his guild's elite in a brutal national war. They had pulled an all-nighter, holding the front against impossible odds—only for their so-called allies to make a fatal mistake.
Their defenses collapsed. The ambush that followed had wiped them out.
He had felt the sting of the game's death penalty—piercing, raw, and real.
And worse than the pain… was betrayal.
Betrayal by allies.
His heart turned cold.
And when he opened his eyes again, he was here.
Kael frowned. The memories of Wystan—the old man before him—surfaced clearly.
Wystan had once served Alaric D. Evernight, Kael's father, when the latter was still young. After leaving the main family, Alaric had taken Wystan with him to Arkwyn Territory, where the old butler remained steadfast in loyalty.
Now that Alaric had a child, his role had shifted—but his diligence had not.
Kael's original body was frail. His father, a seasoned warrior serving in the principality's strongest legion—the Lionheart Regiment—was often away on campaigns. The duties he carried kept him far from home for long stretches of time.
So it was Wystan who had overseen Kael's daily life—his meals, his clothes, his studies, and even his medicine.
He wasn't just a servant. He was family.
Wystan had watched Kael grow up. And even now, he looked at him not with coldness, but with quiet concern.
Lucien—Kael—couldn't help but feel conflicted.
Was this transmigration a twist of fortune or a cruel joke?
There were things to be grateful for: his identity, though not noble, was secure. As a baron's illegitimate child, Kael wasn't destined for greatness—but neither was he scorned. Despite having succubus blood—a stain in the eyes of many humans—he had a roof over his head, a name, and the quiet protection of his father's status.
He was neither a street rat nor a slave. His food was warm, his clothes fine, and he lived unharassed.
But there were many misfortunes too...
The world setting of Eclipse of Aetherion was far from peaceful or prosperous. This wasn't a paradise.
Even the players—let alone the natives—struggled to survive, grinding their way through the game like ordinary folk living through a grim reality.
It was common to get ambushed at a resurrection shrine by NPC villagers just for accidentally killing one of their chickens.
And now, with the looming chaos of the Calamity Era, even the notion of a safe zone had become laughable.
Of course, if that were all, Kael wouldn't have had such a pounding headache.
The real problem—the one burning at the core of his mind—was far worse.
The man who had shielded this body from wind and rain for years... might now be gone.
With that thought gnawing at him, Kael rose from his seat, turning to look at the butler beside him.
His voice was soft, but tense. "Grandpa Wystan... what's going on with my father?"
Last night, Wystan had suddenly arrived in a panic. He had rallied the coachman and maid, spent over two hundred magic crystal coins, activated a long-range teleportation array through the Mage Association, and traveled across the Concordant to the border city. Then he bought horses and a carriage and rushed Kael and his attendants out of the capital.
Clearly, something serious had happened.
Even now, after a full night of travel, Wystan's aged face had yet to fully relax.
The problem clearly lay with Kael's father—Alaric D. Evernight—who had not returned for two consecutive nights.
When the question finally came, Wystan answered slowly, "We're already approaching Arkwyn Territory. There shouldn't be anything to worry about... Are you still wondering why you were called back so suddenly?"
"Yes... We rushed all night, didn't even stop to rest. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't worried."
What kind of reason would compel the heir of a hereditary barony to abandon the capital overnight and return home in such haste?
Kael had his suspicions.
Wystan lowered his voice. "The day before yesterday, your father sent word through a private courier. The Lionheart Regiment had received intelligence—someone in a nearby township had discovered traces of an Eidolon cult ritual. The master led a team to investigate it personally.
Before he departed, he feared the mission might be dangerous... and that he might not return.
He was worried you'd be unprotected in the royal capital, so he ordered me to bring you back to Arkwyn and await further instructions."
Kael's eyes darkened, and he exhaled quietly. "That's not all of it, is it?"
Wystan didn't bother denying it. He gave a solemn nod. "It's also because of the Evernight family... You know very well that Count Reizel has never approved of you. As long as your father remains safe, everything is manageable."
But Wystan's expression grew grave as he continued, shadows pooling in the wrinkles around his eyes.
"If something does happen, your father would never entrust your life to the supposed mercy of that family."
Returning to the territory—leaving the capital—wasn't just an escape. It was survival.
Wystan shook his head and sighed.
To him, Kael was a bright, good-hearted boy. But Count Reizel had never cared for truth or kindness. His feud with Lord Alaric ran deep—deep enough to break the family.
And if Alaric truly fell on this mission... remaining in the capital wouldn't just mean losing the right to inherit. No—Kael's very life would be in danger.
It wouldn't be beyond Count Reizel to send hired professionals to eliminate the baron's bastard son quietly.
And that, Wystan would never allow.
On the contrary, returning to Arkwyn—far from the political storm brewing in the capital—gave him more room to think, to prepare, to strategize.
But... Young Master Kael's body—
Wystan could only sigh inwardly.
There was still much work to be done.