She's HOT

The door swings open with a sharp creak.

I freeze mid-rant, my hands still thrown in the air from yelling at the floating system. My eyes snap to the doorway, where a woman stands with an eyebrow raised and an unmistakable look of mild exasperation.

She's tall—not absurdly so, but at least 175 cm—with broad shoulders and a frame that suggests she knows how to handle herself. Her long black hair is slightly tousled, as if she's run her fingers through it too many times today. Sharp blue eyes flicker between me and the still-glowing screen floating in front of me, her expression unreadable.

"So" she drawls, crossing her arms "I come back from a long day of lecturing to hear the man I rescued screaming at the top of his lungs like he's possessed. Should I be worried?"

I blink. My brain takes a second to catch up.

Oh. Oh.

This is the woman who saved me? This woman? She fine.

I lower my hands awkwardly, glancing at the system screen still hovering beside me like a tattletale.

"No need to be worried about me" I say quickly, waving a dismissive hand. "Just… adjusting."

She doesn't look convinced, but she lets it slide. "So, how do you feel?" Her voice is calm but probing.

"You were ambushed by a group of bandits. They were planning to sell you to the kingdom."

Kingdom?

My mind stutters. 

Where the hell is this body's memory? Shouldn't it be coming to me, filling in the blanks, like in all those novels I read? Why am I drawing a complete blank here?

I exhale sharply. "Well… where exactly are we?"

She frowns. "You really don't know? You have amnesia?"

I hesitate.

Do I?

"Uh… I remember my name?"

Her eyes narrow slightly as she studies me. "Which is?"

I lick my lips, my mind scrambling. "Christian Arkwright."

Her gaze doesn't waver. "And?"

"And… that's about all I've got." I let out a nervous chuckle.

"No hometown, no family names, no past experiences coming back in vivid flashbacks. Just a blank slate with a fancy name."

She exhales through her nose, her arms still crossed. "That's… concerning."

"Tell me about it." I rub my forehead.

"So, where are we exactly? Maybe something will jog my memory."

Her expression softens just a bit, like she's debating how much to say. "We're in Valtheris, the capital of the Estrellian Kingdom. Estrel for short if you feel lazy. You were found on the outskirts, unconscious, and brought here for treatment."

Valtheris? Estrellian Kingdom? Yeah, none of that rings a bell.

I sigh. "Well, that clears up absolutely nothing."

I glance at her, shifting awkwardly. "So… what do I owe you for helping me?"

She waves a hand dismissively. "You don't need to. You were a victim."

Then, a small smirk tugs at her lips.

"But if you're feeling particularly generous, why not stay here for a bit and watch over some kids?"

I blink. "What? Your kids?"

My voice rises slightly. "I'm not a father! And more importantly, I'm not even anyone's husband!"

She chuckles, shaking her head. "Not like that. They're my kids, but not really. More like… adopted, you know?"

Before I can fully process that, she turns toward the door. "Come on, you should at least meet them."

I push myself up from the bed, still struggling to adjust to this body. As I take a hesitant step forward, I glance around the house, taking in my surroundings.

The hallway outside the room is lined with dark wooden panels, the kind that looks like it belongs in an old noble estate. A grand staircase curves down into a wide foyer, with large windows letting in the soft glow of the afternoon sun.

The air smells faintly of old parchment and something sweet—freshly baked bread, maybe?

I grip the railing as I step onto the first stair, my legs still weak from whatever ordeal this body went through. "This place is way too fancy for a woman who just said she takes care of kids."

She chuckles as she walks ahead. "Stick around. You might be surprised."

As I step onto the floor, I pause, feeling the texture beneath my feet. The wood is polished, smooth but slightly cool against my skin, almost too pristine to belong to a home with children running around. Each step echoes softly, absorbed by the large space around us.

Before I can dwell on it, a figure appears at the base of the stairs—a woman about my height, dressed in a neatly pressed maid outfit that fits the era of this place. Her posture is straight, professional, but the warmth in her expression softens her presence.

"Queen Seraphina" she greets, dipping into a small curtsy. Her voice is polite, but there's a familiarity to it, like she's used to speaking with her casually. 

"Welcome back. I see our guest is finally awake."

I barely register her words as I call out mentally 

Genesis.

The familiar glowing text flickers into existence before me.

[Yes, Administrator?]

I don't hesitate.

Who the HELL is this woman?

[Queen Seraphina Costa. Lecturer at the Royal Academy of Valtheris. Adoptive guardian of multiple war orphans. You are currently residing in her estate.]

I blink in disbelief.

I'm sorry? Queen? As in, like, those nobles who have land and are rich as hell and all that?

[Affirmative. Based on modern-day economic standards, Queen Seraphina Costa's wealth is equivalent to that of a high-ranking corporate tycoon, possessing vast land holdings, multiple estates, and considerable financial influence. Or in simpler terms, she's basically a multi-millionaire.]

I hesitate before asking another question, curiosity getting the better of me.

Is she single?

For a moment, the system stays silent. Then, a faint cranking noise fills my head, like some ancient mechanism struggling to process my request.

[Status: Divorced.]

A slow, wicked grin spreads across my face, one that I imagine would make even the devil proud. 

Multi-millionaire noble, divorced, and a guardian of orphans? Oh, this just got interesting.

Before I can relish in my own thoughts, the door swings open again, and a young man steps inside.

He's tall—almost as tall as her—standing at 170 cm, with a lean but toned build. His black hair is slightly unkempt, his piercing blue eyes filled with an expression of instant disdain as he scans the room. The resemblance between him and Seraphina is uncanny—sharp features, the same intense gaze—but unlike Seraphina's composed demeanour, this kid looks one second away from punching a hole through the wall. He looks like he is 17.

Then, he opens his mouth.

"Why is there an ugly man here?"

Silence. My brain stutters.

Excuse me?

Even Seraphina looks momentarily taken aback. The maid stiffens.

I, meanwhile, just blink, utterly confused.

The boy scowls, gesturing toward me. "No, not you" he says to the maid before pointing directly at me. 

"I meant him. The one with the weird hair."

An invisible second arrow pierces through my chest.

I gasp dramatically, clutching my heart. Betrayal. Absolute betrayal. Pain. Real pain.

Seraphina clears her throat, fixing the boy with a sharp look. "Adam, that was uncalled for."

The boy—Adam—shrugs, arms crossing. "I'm just saying what I see. He looks weird."

I inhale deeply, forcing a strained smile. "Wow, thank you for that glowing first impression. Really feeling the love here."

Seraphina sighs. "Adam, this is Christian Arkwright. He was found unconscious after a bandit attack. He's recovering, so go easy on him."

Adam raises an eyebrow. "Bandits? What kind of bandits leave behind their merchandise? Sounds fishy."

I narrow my eyes. Wow. This kid really has no filter.

"Yeah, well, I guess I'm just lucky like that."

Seraphina pinches the bridge of her nose, looking like a woman on the verge of a headache.

"He's a guest in this house. Try not to make him regret waking up."

Adam exhales, rolling his eyes. "Fine. Whatever. Just don't expect me to babysit."

He turns on his heel and strides off, leaving behind an air of mild hostility.

I cross my arms, exhaling sharply. "Well, he's a delight. Is he always like that, or did I just win the special treatment package?"

Seraphina rubs her forehead. "He's… difficult. But he'll come around. Eventually."

As we start walking through the halls, I take in my surroundings. The estate is massive, its walls lined with dark oak panelling and intricate gold detailing. Chandeliers hang from high ceilings, their crystal ornaments casting fragmented light across the polished marble floors.

The place practically screams old money.

Paintings adorn the walls, most of them depicting past noble figures, landscapes, and grand battles. Just as I begin to admire one particularly dramatic painting of a warrior standing atop a mountain of bodies, Genesis flickers to life.

[Lord Cedric Costa, first of the Costa lineage, led the conquest of Eastern Valtheris and established the noble house over three centuries ago.]

I blink.

Huh. So, what? This guy was some kind of warlord?

[Affirmative.]

Well, that tracks.

Before I can ask more, we step into the kitchen.

The scent of warm bread and roasted meat fills the air, and the space is bustling with energy. A long wooden table sits in the center, surrounded by children—ranging from toddlers to teenagers—waiting eagerly for their meals. Their clothes are clean but simple, and their faces light up the moment they see Seraphina.

I linger beside her, scanning the room. The kitchen itself is grand yet practical, with rows of copper pots hanging from overhead racks, a large stone oven at the far end, and a massive wooden island stacked with fresh ingredients. Everything feels warm, lived-in—like an actual home.

One of the younger kids, a girl with curly red hair, tugs at Seraphina's sleeve. "Did you bring us anything today, Queen Seraphina?"

She chuckles, ruffling her hair. "Not today, Millie. But we do have a guest. Be nice, alright?"

Millie turns to me, her bright green eyes full of curiosity. "Are you the weird man Adam was talking about?"

I clear my throat, forcing a smile. "I am not weird. Adam is just… very friendly."

Before I can dwell on the conversation, my eyes drift to the freshly baked bread and roasted meat spread across the table. The sight makes my stomach tighten in longing. For some reason, it reminds me of those simple sandwiches from the convenience store back home—cheap, processed, but weirdly comforting.

I really wish I could have just one more taste before I died...

A sudden weight appears in my hand.

The room falls into absolute silence.

I glance down—and nearly drop what I see. A convenience store sandwich. Plastic wrap and all.

What. The. Hell.

The air turns ice cold. The children stare, wide-eyed. Even the maid freezes, her hand gripping a ladle mid-stir.

Seraphina, to her credit, is the first to react. "Nobody speaks of this outside this house. Understood?"

In perfect unison, the children and staff recite, "If we see powers, we did not."

Before I can even process what just happened, Seraphina grabs my wrist. "We need to talk. Now."

Without waiting for a response, she pulls me out of the kitchen, the sandwich still clutched in my fingers.

Meanwhile, in the corner of my vision, Genesis flickers to life with celebratory text.

[Congratulations! Creation Magic has levelled up! LV 1 Unlocked!]