Chapter 3 Facing the Transcendent

"Who would have thought that I, the second son of the Bartleion family, would wind up as a petty thief?"

Weighing the wallet in his hand, Lynn let out a deep sigh.

Carol hadn't been mistaken, actually.

Lynn—or rather, the original owner of this body—truly was a noble, and with quite a significant lineage.

Unfortunately, due to certain circumstances, that title brought no benefit and instead repeatedly dragged him into life-threatening situations, forcing him to live with his tail between his legs.

*How pathetic had things become for him?*

The previous owner of this body had made a grave mistake over some incident, earning the degrading title of "Shame of the Nobility." At the conclusion of the affair, he was shunned by the entire Imperial Capital.

To quell public outrage, his family exiled him as a criminal to the borderlands.

That wasn't even the worst of it.

After all, the Bartleion family possessed extensive assets across the Saint Laurent Empire, and this included no small holdings in Orn City.

Even if he spent his whole life here, it should have been enough to ensure a comfortable livelihood.

But because Orn City was so far from the Imperial Capital, with inconvenient transportation and communication, compounded by its backward living standards and constant exposure to the fallout of war, none of the family members who lived in luxury were willing to endure the hardship here.

As a result, many of the properties ended up being managed by stewards and servants stationed locally.

Over time, problems began to arise.

Having been left outside the family's control for years on end, these people had grown accustomed to abusing their power.

Some of the household staff even went so far as to exploit the Bartleion name to seize property or oppress the common folk.

But the most outrageous part? These wretches either received orders from some unknown source or had grown so accustomed to their arrogance in Orn City that they completely lost sight of their place.

They dared to treat their master as a servant!

Since the original owner of the body had been exiled here, the manor's stewards, even the lowest-ranking servants and drivers, had regarded him with utter disdain.

On the surface, they called him "Young Master," but behind closed doors, they looked down on him with condescending scorn, obeying in perfunctory fashion.

For example, the monthly allowance sent over from the family to sustain a proper noble's lifestyle was intercepted by these servants and embezzled in full.

Or, they'd come up with various excuses to confine him to the estate, forbidding him from leaving the grounds.

The most outrageous case was someone handing him servant's clothes to wear, then brazenly claiming the manor was out of funds and suggesting he go out and earn money.

The implicit message was clear—they wanted him gone, left to fend for himself.

When the steward found out, he merely docked the offender a single day's wages, brushing off the incident entirely.

It was blatant humiliation.

As if that weren't enough, the original owner suffered repeated assassination attempts!

He had every reason to suspect that those audacious servants had colluded with external forces to orchestrate such treachery.

That was when Lynn happened to cross over, taking over the dying body and seizing the chance to escape.

Besides, based on the memories, the Empire-shaking scandal in the Imperial Capital had been a calculated conspiracy against him from start to finish.

But given Lynn's current situation, revenge was temporarily beyond his reach.

*Thinking about it, he let out another sigh.*

Beside him, the black cat seemed to sense his gloomy mood and let out a soft "meow."

The cat had been a stray he picked up from the roadside.

When they first encountered each other half a month ago, it was a lonely little thing, seemingly hungry and meowing at him for food.

Maybe it was the intelligence he saw in the cat's eyes, or perhaps it was sympathy born of shared misfortune, but he decided to take it in.

Lynn reached out and scratched the cat's chin.

"Don't worry, Little Black. It won't be long before we head back to the Imperial Capital together."

It was unclear whether he was speaking to the cat or muttering to himself.

Perhaps, in doing so, he'd also throw off the shadowy forces hunting him.

After all, who would suspect that the "Shame of the Nobility," cast out of the Imperial Capital like a stray dog, would dare to return to that place?

*Lynn silently contemplated the thought.*

The next moment, a sudden, jarring voice rang out, making him shiver as if ice had pierced his spine.

"No, you won't be going anywhere."

The voice belonged to a man—it sounded so casually spoken.

Yet, in Lynn's ears, it exploded like thunder.

Having experienced no disturbances in over a week and with his mind clouded in exhaustion, he'd grown lax, failing to notice the danger.

*How had someone appeared in his room without a sound?!*

*Could it be those forces chasing the original owner again?*

*In an instant, these questions shot through his mind.*

Lynn's body tensed, his hand gripping the revolver in his pocket.

Still, that did little to ease his nerves.

He knew—as any avid reader of novels would—that this was an era where steampunk machinery intertwined with Transcendent powers, even the Divine had traces in the world.

*Against such forces, something like a revolver was laughably feeble.*

To avoid being attacked, Lynn pressed his back against the wall, scanning the room warily.

He noted that the room had somehow grown darker, even the light from the gas lamp dimming to an eerie glow.

Shadows spread like ink, and even the air seemed to ripple faintly.

Under Lynn's vigilant gaze, a humanoid figure wrapped in shadows began to emerge silently from the pool of darkness on the floor.

Sure enough, this was the power of a Transcendent.

Lynn didn't hesitate for a second; the moment the shadowy figure appeared, he drew his revolver and fired three quick shots—bang, bang, bang!

The bullets were aimed directly at the head, heart, and groin.

"What a vicious little runt!"

The shadow seemed startled by Lynn's ruthlessness.

But it was only a fleeting surprise.

As soon as the bullets hit the figure, there was no spray of blood; it felt as though they'd passed through empty air before embedding harmlessly in the wall behind.

No physical form?

This thought had barely surfaced when Lynn's instincts screamed at him.

In the blink of an eye, the shadow surrounding the humanoid figure began to roil like boiling ink.

Moments later, countless writhing tendrils shot out of the darkness, surging toward Lynn like crashing waves!

Although he recognized the attack, his ordinary human body wasn't capable of evasive maneuvers at such high intensity.

Moreover, half a month of sleeplessness had left him incredibly frail.

Within seconds, Lynn found his limbs and neck entangled by the shadowy tendrils, their tremendous force lifting him into the air.

The shadow-cloaked humanoid walked toward him without hurry, its face obscured by the darkness.

"Don't resist. This way, you'll avoid unnecessary pain," said the shadow with a voice that sounded young. "You're not to be harmed before you meet the lady."

Apparently, the shadow gave Lynn no chance to resist, tightening the tendrils around his limbs and throat.

The air grew increasingly thin, and Lynn began to struggle for breath.

*His mind, however, raced at full speed.*

*From the sensation, he deduced that the enemy wasn't entirely lacking a physical form; their body simply blended with the darkness, rendering physical attacks ineffective.*

*This meant the shadow's powers emerged from the dark itself.*

*If that were the case... perhaps light could push back the darkness.*

A sudden burst of insight planted a wild idea in his mind.

"How about... we strike a deal?" Lynn gasped for air, his voice unsteady. "Whoever... you're working for, just let me go this once... I'll repay you..."

"My comrades and I have been trailing you for half a month. If we pulled back now, all that effort would be wasted," the shadow sighed. "Besides, your repayment doesn't seem worth much to me."

"And most importantly, the lady explicitly requested your presence. Do you, an ordinary human, think you can defy her will?"

*Defy her will?*

*The implications of those words were immense, momentarily freezing Lynn's breath.*

*Though it confirmed that the shadow wasn't here to kill him, it hinted at an even more troubling agenda.*

*Right now, however, he didn't have the luxury to delve into its meaning.*

"Alright, get some sleep. You'll wake up at your destination."

The shadow manipulated its powers again, sending dense tendrils surging over Lynn's body.

"I... refuse," Lynn managed to say, summoning the last of his strength to grip the revolver tightly.

The task was simple enough.

"Bang!"

With the pull of the trigger, a small hole punctured the metal of the gas line in the corner.

"Hiss—hiss—"

The hissing of escaping air accompanied by a strange scent rapidly filled the cramped room.

The shadow's expression stiffened.

A flicker of disbelief flashed across its eyes as it instinctively stepped back half a pace.

"What are you—"

Before the shadow could finish, the trigger was pulled once more.

"Boom!!!"