Chapter 6: Shadows of the Past

(Marcus's PoV)

Marcus sat in the study, staring at the dying embers of the fireplace. The warmth that should have comforted him felt distant, like everything else in his life since he had woken up in this world. His mind kept circling back to the same thought, gnawing at him relentlessly: **How had his father died?**

His father, a **Tier 5 Demigod**, had been one of the most powerful Essentia Adepts in the empire, someone who commanded the very concept of **Creation**. His mother, though not as powerful, had still been a **Tier 3 Adept**, a master of **Space**. Together, they were practically unstoppable—at least, they should have been. But the official report said they died in a **Tier 5 dungeon**.

The details of their deaths didn't sit right with Marcus. His father had supposedly drained almost all of his Essentia during the battle, unable to manipulate Creation when they needed it most. His mother, despite her mastery over space, couldn't save either of them. It didn't make sense. **None of it made sense.**

An unknown monster. That was all the report had said—vague and convenient, like it was hiding something. His father had been investigating a sudden breakout in the dungeon when they were ambushed. But why hadn't they escaped? Why hadn't his mother teleported them to safety?

Marcus clenched his fists, frustration bubbling under his skin. His father was a careful man, never reckless, always aware of the dangers of his power and the enemies he had made over the years. And his mother... she had been just as cautious. So how could they both have died like this?

It felt like a **conspiracy**. Marcus couldn't shake the thought. Something about the way they'd been killed—**in a dungeon, fighting an unknown monster**—felt off. There had been whispers of strange occurrences in the empire, growing tensions between the nobility and the crown. Could his father have stumbled upon something he wasn't supposed to? Something that got him and his mother killed?

His mind raced with possibilities, but before he could delve deeper into the mystery, a sharp knock at the door interrupted him.

"Your Grace," came the familiar gruff voice of **Commander Reinhardt**.

Marcus straightened up, pushing his thoughts aside as the door opened. Commander Reinhardt stepped into the room, his broad frame imposing as ever. He was a **mid-Tier 3 Sentinel**, one of the most powerful warriors in the duchy, with skin that looked like it had weathered countless battles and eyes that had seen too much. Behind him, several council members entered, their faces somber and expectant.

"Commander," Marcus greeted, his voice calm but still tense. "Council members."

Reinhardt gave a curt nod. "We need to talk about the duchy's defenses, Your Grace. The monster attacks are growing worse."

Marcus motioned for them to sit, though his mind was still half-lost in the questions about his parents. The reports about the monster incursions were piling up, and from what he could remember, the duchy was on the verge of collapse. People were starving, freezing, and frightened. The once-glorious lands of the Aurelius family were now plagued by near-constant invasions from the wilds, and the empire had done nothing to help.

The council members took their seats around the long table, their expressions weary. **Lord Halford**, the eldest of the group, spoke first.

"Your Grace, our forces are stretched thin. The imperial family refuses to send aid, and the monster attacks are growing more frequent. Without more resources or reinforcements, we won't be able to protect the borders much longer."

Reinhardt crossed his arms, his voice grim. "We need to consolidate our forces, focus on defending strategic points. But more than anything, Your Grace, the men need to see you. They need to know their duke is here, ready to lead."

Marcus could feel the weight of their words pressing down on him. He had barely adjusted to this new life, and already he was being asked to step into his father's shoes. But there was no room for hesitation. The duchy needed him, and if he didn't act, everything his family had built would crumble.

"I'll lead," Marcus said, his voice stronger than he felt inside. "But we need more than just defense. I want a full report on the dungeon where my parents died. If there's a connection between these monster incursions and what my father was investigating, I want to know."

Reinhardt nodded, his eyes sharp. "I'll see to it."

The council began discussing strategies, talking about logistics, troop movements, and food supplies. But as they talked, Marcus's mind wandered back to the dungeon, to the **unknown monster** that had killed his parents. It gnawed at him, that lingering feeling that something was being hidden from him, something dangerous. Something tied to the growing chaos in the empire.

But for now, he had to focus on keeping the duchy alive. The rest—**the truth about his parents' deaths, the conspiracy, the unknown forces working in the shadows**—would have to wait.

The council's voices faded into the background as Marcus stared out the window. Snow was falling lightly over the barren lands of the duchy, a quiet, fragile beauty in the midst of so much ruin.

And in the silence, Marcus vowed to find out the truth.