Innate Strength

After sending Lucius off, Cassius strode toward a large, ornate mirror standing in the corner of the library. The polished silver frame was adorned with intricate carvings of roses and thorns, and its surface gleamed so brightly that his reflection almost seemed alive.

He stared at himself, his sharp red eyes scanning every detail with an intensity that bordered on obsession. He had a suspicion—a lingering doubt ever since he woke up in this world—and now he intended to confirm it.

Just as he thought.

The face staring back at him was unmistakably his own—the same face he'd known all his life back on Earth. High cheekbones, a strong jawline, and sharp features that some might call regal. Even his thick, raven-black hair was the same, tumbling neatly to his neck in soft waves.

"Well..." He muttered to his reflection. "...If nothing else, I guess I can thank the Goddess for not sticking me in a face I'd hate to wake up to."

But this wasn't mere possession, not by a long shot.

He tugged at the collar of his shirt, exposing a faint scar just below his collarbone. His fingers brushed over the mark, a reminder of a foolish childhood accident back in his old world. It was still there, exactly as he remembered.

His eyes narrowed, tracing the other faint scars on his arms and hands—the ones he'd earned through his life.

This was undeniably his body, not the body of the original Cassius. He rolled his shoulders, feeling the familiar stretch of muscle, the precise balance of his frame.

In fact, he noted, with a small smirk, he looked even better than he remembered. His physique was more chiseled, more refined, as though the goddess had polished and perfected him for this new world.

"Not bad." He murmured, tilting his head to admire the angles of his reflection. "If the old Cassius looked anything like me, no wonder the guy had his fair share of admirers, even if he wasted it all on booze and self-pity."

He frowned slightly, though, as the thought settled. If this truly was his own body—transferred across worlds by divine intervention—then where was the body of the old Cassius? His soul was likely gone, replaced by his own, but the body...

"Did she swap us completely?" He wondered aloud, his fingers brushing his jaw thoughtfully. "Or did she just toss his body and soul somewhere else entirely?...Goddess above, you could've at least left me a memo."

The thought left him uneasy, but there was little he could do about it now.

What mattered was that he was here, alive and very much in control of his own body.

Cassius then glanced around the library, his gaze landing on an ornate fruit bowl placed on a nearby shelf. It was clearly a decorative piece, filled with artificial fruits crafted from various metals—golden bananas, silver pears, and a particularly realistic apple made of gleaming steel.

He picked up the metallic apple, rolling it in his palm thoughtfully. It was heavy, its surface cool and smooth under his fingertips. A mischievous smirk played on his lips as an idea took root in his mind.

"Let's see if I still have it." He murmured to himself.

Gripping the apple firmly in his right hand, Cassius tensed his arm slightly, his muscles shifting beneath his shirt.

He focused, summoning the same strength he had relied on back in his old world. Slowly, the steel began to groan, the sound of metal bending filling the quiet library.

Creak~ Creak~

With a sharp crack, the apple split under his grip, the once-perfect sphere now a twisted, crushed mess of mangled metal.

Tiny shards fell to the floor with a soft clink as he opened his hand, revealing the warped remnants of the apple sitting in his palm.

Cassius let out a low whistle, a grin spreading across his face. "Well, that's reassuring." He said, tossing the crushed apple aside like it was nothing. "Seems like the Goddess didn't forget to pack my strength along with the rest of me."

He flexed his fingers, feeling the familiar power coursing through them. It was exactly as it had been before—no, perhaps even stronger. The weight of the task the goddess had assigned him no longer seemed daunting; it felt like a challenge he could take on with ease.

"This is going to be fun." He muttered, his grin turning sharper. "If this world thinks it can throw anything at me, it's sorely mistaken. I'll handle it all—and then some."

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Lucius returned to the library with an eager spring in his step, his grey eyes alight with excitement. His investigation had borne fruit quicker than expected.

Using the vast resources of the Holyfield family, tracking down the purchase of the rare poison had been no challenge. Even the alias used to mask the buyer's identity had been unravelled, revealing someone of shocking importance within the household.

He could hardly wait to tell his young master. The thrill of unmasking the culprit, combined with the hope of earning Cassius's praise, made his heart race with anticipation.

Pushing open the grand library doors, Lucius stepped inside, his voice already forming the words to deliver the news. But he stopped short.

The room was empty.

The flickering candlelight danced over rows of bookshelves and the vast reading table, but there was no sign of Cassius. The chair he had last seen his master sitting in was neatly pushed in, as though it hadn't been used for hours.

Lucius frowned, his excitement faltering. "Young master?" He called, his voice echoing faintly in the quiet space.

When no answer came, he began to search the library, checking the alcoves and corners, but it was clear Cassius was no longer there.

"Perhaps he went back to the mansion..." Lucius murmured, his expression thoughtful as he hurried out of the library.

Crossing the mansion grounds, he made his way to the separate building where Cassius resided. The air was still and cold, the sunlight casting eerie shadows across the stone path.

Reaching the front doors, Lucius pushed them open with ease, stepping inside. But as he walked through the halls, a sense of unease crept over him.

The place was silent—deathly silent.

The mansion, already sparsely staffed, was completely deserted.

No servants bustled about, no faint sounds of cleaning or footsteps echoed through the halls. Every room he checked was empty, untouched, as though abandoned hours ago.

Lucius's frown deepened, his steps quickening as he moved through the mansion. His voice broke the eerie quiet.

"Young master? Are you here?"

Nothing...Only the sound of his own voice bouncing back at him.

He came to a halt in the middle of the grand foyer, his heart sinking slightly as he realized Cassius wasn't here either.

"What's going on?" He whispered to himself, his hand brushing through his black hair in frustration.

Just as he was contemplating where to search next, a faint shuffle of footsteps caught his attention. Turning sharply, he saw one of the maids approaching him, her expression hesitant. She bowed politely before speaking.

"Master Lucius." She said softly. "I've been instructed to inform you that everyone has been summoned to the banquet hall by the young master...He's requested your presence there as well."

Lucius blinked, surprise flashing across his face.

"The banquet hall?" He repeated, his confusion growing. "Why there? And why summon the staff?"

The maid shook her head. "I'm afraid I don't know the details, sir. But he was quite insistent."

Lucius exhaled sharply, his mind racing as he nodded. "Very well. Thank you."

As the maid retreated, Lucius turned toward the main mansion, his footsteps brisk and purposeful. A mixture of confusion and curiosity filled him as he headed for the banquet hall.

"Just what are you planning, young master?" He muttered under his breath, his pretty eyes narrowing.

Open~

Lucius pushed open the heavy doors of the banquet hall, the faint creak echoing into the dimly lit room. The sight before him made him pause.

The expansive hall, typically vibrant with light and chatter during gatherings, was eerily subdued.

The chandeliers overhead, usually ablaze with brilliance, had been dimmed, casting long, flickering shadows across the richly adorned walls. The golden accents along the ceiling glinted faintly in the subdued glow, giving the room a hauntingly solemn atmosphere.

The staff of the household stood in neat rows, their postures stiff, their faces uneasy. Whispers flitted between them, but the room was otherwise oppressively silent.

Every eye turned toward Lucius as he entered, their gazes filled with a mix of confusion and nervous anticipation.

Lucius's sharp eyes swept over the crowd, searching for the one person who could explain this peculiar scene. But Cassius was nowhere to be found.

"What in the world is going on here?" He murmured, his voice low as he stepped further into the hall. His mind raced with questions.

'Why had the young master summoned everyone here? And why was the atmosphere so unsettling?'

As he stood there, trying to make sense of it all, a maid approached him hesitantly. She was a petite girl, her hands trembling slightly as she held out a folded piece of paper. Her head bowed as she spoke in a barely audible voice.

"Master Lucius, the young master instructed me to give this to you upon your arrival."