༺ Pieces (1) ༻

༺[Noel's POV]༻

I was in my room.

The curtains were drawn, casting long shadows across the floor that stretched like crooked arms over the faded rug.

A faint evening glow slipped through the window, painting soft amber streaks across the edges of my bed.

I sat at the corner, hands locked together in front of my face, elbows pressed into my knees, staring at nothing and everything all at once.

The journal… Clara's journal.

The words played in my head over and over again, like a curse I couldn't shake.

"Noel, you bastard… what did you do…"

I muttered under my breath—not at myself, not exactly.

The words weren't meant for me, Ju-Won, the one now residing in this wretched body, but for the original owner.

The man whose identity I had assumed.

Noel Saint Grenn. Arrogant. Cold. Efficient. Unapproachable.

And, if Clara's suspicions held any weight—possibly a traitor to the Empire.

"...If all that is true, wouldn't the minister have taken action against me by now?"

The ledger entries.

The missing funds.

The way his name sat on those pages with a signature too clean to be forged.

If what was written in that journal was even half true, then Noel had stolen imperial treasury funds—money meant for security, meant for the protection of the people, especially those in less privileged sectors.

I clenched my jaw.

But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't remember it.

Not even a flicker of memory returned to me.

It felt like standing before a sealed vault—one I didn't know the combination to—but knew something damning was locked inside.

The frustration ate at me slowly, methodically, like a slow poison.

My fingers unconsciously drifted to my lips.

I bit down on my nail—an old habit from my previous life that always emerged when I was overwhelmed.

But the body resisted.

Even in my anxiety, the instincts of Noel Saint Grenn bled through.

My hand stopped midway, fingers curling back, posture straightening.

Noble. Controlled.

Every movement refined, like muscle memory that wasn't mine.

It was disturbing how easily the mask fit now.

I stared into the dim light and exhaled.

Then quietly, I muttered to myself.

"Was it not enough… for the traits to help him act like the original Noel… to the point he seemed suspicious to Clara?"

Clara… she'd noticed.

Or at least suspected.

"But it doesn't matter…"

I continued softly, pressing my hands together again.

"Not yet, anyway.

None of the key figures have noticed. Not his parents. Not the board. No one from the nobility… Only Clara."

I looked up, eyes narrowing at the flickering candlelight.

"Still..."

I said quietly.

"...it's only a matter of time."

A bitter silence followed.

"My original self… Ju-Won… is being swallowed up by this bastard's dominant nature.

This body, these instincts… the way he walked, talked, commanded a room—it all feels too real now."

I leaned back slightly, letting my weight sink into the mattress behind me.

It creaked under the pressure.

"Still… I'll need to tread carefully..."

I said again, almost like a mantra.

"I have to mimic him perfectly.

No hesitation. No cracks."

Just as I said this, there was a gentle knock on the door.

A moment later, one of the household maids entered, her posture courteous and her eyes respectfully lowered.

She approached with practiced grace, placing a small white dish on the table beside my bed.

It was cake.

Strawberry-flavored.

I didn't need to taste it to know.

The pink coloring of the sponge, the delicate white frosting curled around its edges, and a single, perfectly ripe strawberry resting on top gave it away immediately.

I stared at it for a moment, almost dazed.

"…Strawberry cake."

I whispered to myself.

The maid tilted her head slightly.

"Young Master?"

I shook my head.

"…If it's not much to ask..."

I said, forcing composure into my voice.

"...could you bring me the best four books from the house library?

On geography. And history, if possible."

She bowed gracefully, the bun of her jet-black hair barely shifting as she did.

"Of course, Young Master."

She replied, before exiting with soft, practiced steps, leaving the door closed gently behind her.

I turned back to the cake.

Strawberry cake…

It was Hana's favorite.

The familiarity stung in ways I didn't expect, drawing up something warm and cold all at once.

And strangely enough, I was reminded of the pink-haired girl I ran into earlier today at the academy.

She'd been holding an embroidery hoop—its threads still dangling from an unfinished flower.

She didn't recognize me at all.

Which, frankly, wasn't too surprising.

She was probably not taking the ME course.

Likely a first-year student from a different department.

Despite my rank as a senior professor, I was a stranger to her.

I preferred it that way.

Was embroidery her hobby?

The brief encounter had stayed with me.

Not because of anything dramatic.

But because she felt like someone I was supposed to know.

One of the main characters.

Possibly one of the game's heroines.

And yet…

I sighed.

"At least..."

I whispered.

"...I'm not affiliated with her in any way.

That means I can focus on other matters for now...all else come later."

Like Clara.

Like the missing funds.

Like the growing shadow of doubt surrounding Noel Saint Grenn's past.

And most importantly—like finally learning the geography and history of this world, so I could stop living blindly in a place that might devour me whole.

***

Moments later, I heard the familiar soft knock at the door.

It creaked open, and in stepped the maid from earlier—the one with the black hair tied neatly into a single bun.

She carried a small stack of thick, worn books in her arms, each one aged with careful use, the edges browned but the spines still sturdy.

"Here you are, young master."

She said, offering them to me gently.

"I took the liberty of hand-picking them myself.

I was once a history scholar under Mistress Natalie… I thought these might be helpful to you."

Natalie. My supposed older sister.

That name stirred a few memories—or at least facts I'd gathered since ending up here.

She wasn't just any noble daughter.

Natalie Saint Grenn held a seat as an executive within the Imperial Justice Department, one of the highest-ranking roles in the empire's court system.

Unlike the militaristic security divisions, her domain was law and order, trials and decrees.

That explained the maid's background—clearly someone Natalie had mentored or at least influenced.

If there was anyone in this household who knew both the legal systems and the world's history—possibly even geography—it would've been her.

"Thank you."

I said, taking the books from her.

They were heavier than I expected.

Worn leather covers, embossed gold symbols, and neat bookmarks tucked into a few pages.

I placed them on the desk beside the untouched slice of strawberry cake.

The fork resting on the plate shifted ever so slightly when the last book settled down, tapping against the porcelain like a soft chime.

The maid lingered for a moment before speaking again.

"Young master… if it's okay may I ask…"

Her voice was cautious.

"Why you are studying these books?

They don't particularly fall into your usual… taste or field of expertise."

I stared at her.

"No particular reason really..."

I said simply, curtly.

There was a pause.

Then she bowed.

"Understood."

With quiet steps, she turned, exiting the room without another word, the door clicking shut behind her.

And with that, I was alone again.

I leaned back slightly, exhaling slowly, eyes moving from the books to the plate of cake, then back again.

The room was quiet.

I pulled the first book toward me.

Thick parchment, stiff pages.

The ink smelled faintly of lavender and age.

I flipped through the chapters at first, just trying to skim—get a feel for what I was diving into.

But the more I read, the slower my fingers turned each page.

The world… was so much larger than I thought.

***

The silver fork tapped softly against the porcelain plate, its edge scraping a line of pink frosting as I cut another piece of cake.

The taste was delicate—light, sweet, and smooth.

Strawberry, just like I thought.

I leaned back against the cushioned headboard, a book opened across my lap, its leather cover cracked with age and its parchment pages thin and yellowed.

I had one hand holding the book open, the other slowly guiding the next bite to my mouth.

It was the first of four I asked for.

A beginner's guide to the geography of Eryndor—the world I now lived in.

"…Eryndor," I muttered softly to myself, chewing.

Apparently, this place was ancient, older than anything I could comprehend.

It stretched across three massive continents—each ruled by its own Holy Church.

Not kings. Not governments. Churches.

And these churches didn't just handle sermons or prayers—they dictated everything: from politics to war, from law to education.

The pages spoke of constant trade between the continents… and tension.

That part didn't surprise me.

Each Church had its own ideology, and none of them seemed to get along.

Still, for the sake of appearance, they maintained diplomacy—likely through clenched teeth.

I flipped the page.

[Continent of Veloria.]

My home. Or rather, Noel's home.

It was drawn out across the next few sections with neat hand-drawn maps.

Towering cities, wide plains, thick enchanted forests that probably ate unwelcome travelers alive.

Veloria itself was split into three major divisions:

[The Central Dominion.]

That was the heart of the Empire.

Elyndral, the capital city, was mentioned with pride and reverence—"a city of silver spires and stained-glass cathedrals."

I thought back to the moment I first came here from the train interference.

But that experience alone gave me trauma.

For that reason alone I won't be taking any trains anytime soon.

I continued.

I'd be more impressed if I wasn't already aware of the corruption brewing in its corners.

The Emperor, Cassian Velorian, ruled here.

Apparently, he was both a political figure and something like a divine representative, hand-in-hand with the Church of Lumina.

It also said that this was where the Velorian Imperial Academy was located.

My current workplace.

The most prestigious institution for training mages, scholars, warriors… and where the game's central story unfolded.

I scoffed under my breath.

"A setting like this for a romance game…?"

I turned the page.

[The Northern Highlands.]

Cold. Mountainous. Harsh.

The book didn't sugarcoat it.

The people here were tough, born from frost and stone, with more loyalty to their clans than the Church.

The Holy Church of Lumina apparently tried to maintain control here but mostly failed.

The only reason the Empire hadn't completely abandoned the region was because of its mana crystals and rare minerals.

Magic ore.

It was also noted that this region had a history of rebellion.

"…Sounds fun."

Another bite of cake.

The frosting melted instantly on my tongue.

Next.

[The Southern Marches.]

"Wait...wasn't this the place my brain immediately thought of fleeing to after the loops at the ISD?"

Farms. Rivers. Villages.

"Peaceful...no wonder it was a location I wanted to go to..."

A place that actually sounded peaceful—at least on the surface.

Nobles ruled here on behalf of the Church and Emperor, enforcing laws, collecting taxes, and fighting among themselves for influence.

Apparently, the people in this region were very religious.

Fanatically so.

They believed the Emperor was chosen directly by the divine.

The book hinted at political intrigue.

Factions, secret alliances, civil instability under a smiling surface.

Of course.

"Even in paradise, the snakes slithered."

I set that book aside and reached for the second one—thicker and heavier. This one detailed the other continents.

[Arclasia.]

The continent across the sea.

Ruled by the Holy Church of Solara, it promoted justice and divine punishment.

That alone made it sound militant.

The ruler there, Emperor Khalid Al-Sorath, seemed more like a puppet, his authority influenced—maybe even overshadowed—by the Church.

Alchemists and artifact smiths thrived here.

It was a place of potions, magical trinkets, and dangerously powerful inventions.

But there was tension, too.

Nomadic tribes resisted the Church's grip. Resource conflicts. Civil unrest.

I chewed thoughtfully.

"Justice and punishment, huh? Real warm and fuzzy."

Another forkful of strawberry cake slid into my mouth.

Then came [Ulret.]

Even the name sounded like something you weren't supposed to say out loud.

The entire continent was described as being in twilight.

Not night. Not day. A constant dim.

The Holy Church of Noctis ruled here—opposite in every way to Lumina and Solara.

Instead of light or justice, they emphasized balance.

Acceptance of both light and dark.

The Empress, Adeline Noctaris, oversaw everything—but it was clear the real power was spread out among academies of necromancy, arcane research, and forbidden magic.

"Necromancy, forbidden knowledge, shadowy politics... and we're still calling this genre Romance Fantasy?"

I leaned my head back and gave a short, dry laugh.

The Holy Churches weren't just spiritual figureheads.

They were the heart of this world's power system.

Each one dictated laws, influenced the Emperors, even commanded the military.

Here in Veloria, the Church of Lumina prided itself on light, faith, and order.

It was the one that funded the imperial academy—the one that raised all these people to serve the Church's vision.

They also opposed anything related to darkness or forbidden magic.

Solara's Church was stricter.

Punishing heresy.

Obsessed with divine judgment.

Noctis… well.

They were the black sheep.

Or the only honest ones, depending on how you looked at it.

I closed the book and set it on the nightstand beside the empty plate.

A lone smear of white frosting remained near the edge.

"…Strange."

I murmured, brushing a thumb across my lower lip.

"For a world meant to be a romantic fantasy, there's too much of this…"

War. Politics. Divine power. Repression. Heresy.

Blood and secrets and tension between ideals.

Where were the sweet dates under the sakura trees?

The light-hearted banter in the library?

The shy confessions in moonlight?

None of it fit this world's bones.

To make matters worse, I hadn't even begun to unravel the system of Authorities and magical power that governed this place.

Something told me it wasn't as simple as mana tiers and spell grades.

That would be for another time.

Right now, I was tired.

The plate was empty.

The books were stacked neatly.

My head throbbed gently from the reading, and my thoughts were beginning to blur at the edges.

Tomorrow, I would begin teaching my first lesson.

My job as Professor Noel Saint Grenn… would officially begin.