Determination

As soon as Ethan stepped out of the room, his smirk vanished.

His pace quickened, almost as if he were fleeing from an invisible enemy.

A cold sweat ran down his back. His breathing was slightly uneven, his body still tense from the encounter.

Back in that room, in those last moments—Salvascon had released a pressure so suffocating that Ethan had nearly collapsed.

His knees had buckled, his vision had blurred for a second, and for the briefest moment, he had felt like he was about to black out.

Even though Salvascon wouldn't attack him openly, that oppressive aura had been a warning. A test. A threat.

Ethan exhaled sharply as he turned down a corridor. His crimson eyes flicked back over his shoulder.

Salvascon wasn't following him.

Even so, Ethan felt awful. His legs were unsteady, and his fingers tightened around the edge of a nearby table for support. His breathing was slowly returning to normal, but his heartbeat still drummed in his ears.

He wiped the sweat from his forehead and muttered to himself, "That's not an experience I want to relive."

That was scary.

He knew what he had said to Salvascon was mostly a lie—or at least, a twisted version of the truth.

Yes, he had freed Lara from her bindings.

But by then, it had already been too late for them to talk.

And yes, he had enjoyed his first time with her… but the pain that followed was not something he ever wanted to feel again.

In short—he had lied.

He had lied to protect himself, to escape that situation without getting blackmailed into Salvascon's schemes.

Ethan let out another sigh.

This is exhausting.

And now, there was another problem.

For a brief moment, he considered warning Lara about Salvascon. The man clearly wanted to use her or kill her brother for some reason.

But he couldn't.

Their contract forbade them from looking for each other.

Even if he wanted to warn her, there was nothing he could do.

Still… he wasn't too worried.

Lara was smart. She must have realized by now that she wasn't safe in this city. She'd leave as soon as she could.

And after that?

They'd probably never meet again.

A strange feeling stirred in his chest. Something unfamiliar.

Ethan frowned, but he pushed the thought aside. Now wasn't the time to dwell on emotions he didn't understand.

Instead, he focused on something else.

His situation.

At first, it had been just the curse.

Then it was Lara.

Then the assassin.

And now, Salvascon.

Ever since he arrived in this world, his life had been in constant danger.

It was in stark contrast to his old life on Earth—where things were… safe. Boring. Uneventful.

Back then, his biggest worries had been ordinary—school, bills, relationships.

But now?

Ethan's crimson eyes sharpened.

Now, there was a constant threat to his life.

And a natural question formed in his mind.

"What can I do about it?"

The answer was obvious.

He needed to become stronger.

His jaw tightened with determination. He had two ways to do that.

The first was his system.

{"You called?"}

"Not now."

If the novels he had read were anything to go by, then a system was the ultimate cheat code. If used correctly, it could be the key to growing stronger faster than anyone else.

The second way was Arthur.

For some reason, Ethan felt like he could trust that guy.

It was an inexplicable feeling, something instinctual. When they had met last time, he had sensed something about Arthur—something rare.

And if the system could help him, then maybe he could also learn the sword style Arthur had spoken of.

These were his two available paths to power.

And Ethan wouldn't waste them.

He clenched his fists.

He needed to become strong.

Strong enough to never fear for his life again.

Strong enough to one day find a way back home.

Back to Earth.

Back to his family.

Back to where he belonged.

But before that…

Ethan had to meet up with Arthur.

He glanced at the time and sighed. Still a bit early.

That was fine. He had another plan in mind first.

He was going to stay in Mosan.

Straightening his posture, he turned toward the training grounds.

Training Grounds

Ethan arrived at the training grounds to find the knights mid-exercise. The rhythmic clash of wooden training swords echoed through the air, sweat glistening on the knights' faces as they moved through their drills.

But Ethan wasn't here to watch them.

His crimson eyes scanned the area, searching for one person in particular.

It didn't take long to find him.

Standing near the edge of the training field, watching over the knights with a critical eye, was the man he was looking for—former Night Commander Ralf.

Ethan approached him, his expression serious.

Ralf noticed him immediately. He turned, his sharp eyes studying Ethan's face.

"Something troubling you, young master?" Ralf asked, his tone calm but perceptive.

Ethan nodded.

"You could say that."

Ralf crossed his arms. "Oh? Then can I be of some help?"

Ethan's lips curled into a small smile.

"Yes, actually. That's why I'm here."

He glanced around briefly before lowering his voice.

"Can we talk privately?"

Ralf raised an eyebrow. "Privately?"

"Yes."

Ralf studied him for a moment, then nodded.

"No problem. Follow me."

A few minutes later, they were inside a private room within the training grounds.

Ralf leaned against a desk, arms still crossed.

"Alright. Now, what's troubling you, young master?"

Ethan sat across from him, his face completely serious.

And then, with the straightest face possible, he said:

"Privacy."

Ralf blinked.

"…Privacy?" he repeated, slightly confused.

Ethan nodded firmly.

"Yes. Privacy. I don't know why, but I can't seem to find any in this place."

Ralf frowned. "What do you mean?"

Ethan sighed dramatically.

"The maids and servants—" he shook his head as if deeply troubled. "They're too enchanted by my charm and charisma. They just… can't keep their eyes off me."

Ralf stared at him, completely dumbfounded.

"…Excuse me?"

Ethan nodded, looking genuinely distressed.

"I mean, I don't blame them, of course. I am very handsome and charming. But you see, even I need my privacy sometimes."

He sighed again, running a hand through his silver-white hair.

"But no. Every time I turn around, they're there. And when I ask them about it, they make ridiculous excuses like 'cleaning' or 'doing their jobs.' But come on—who are they fooling?!"

Ralf just stared at him, utterly speechless.

What the hell was Ethan talking about?!