Lucas's head snapped toward the beautiful double doors the moment the respectful voice reached him. His heart, already racing from the flood of memories, gave another violent lurch.
He quickly pushed himself up from the floor, smoothing down the ornate military uniform with trembling hands and running his fingers through his hair in a futile attempt to look composed.
The weight of the unfamiliar body still felt strange, as if every movement required conscious effort, but he forced himself to walk steadily behind the grand redwood table and lower himself into the extravagant throne-like chair.
The purple upholstery was softer than anything he had ever touched in his old life. He took one deep breath, coughed lightly to clear his throat, and called out in what he hoped was a calm, authoritative voice, "Come in."
A moment later, the heavy double doors swung open, allowing a stream of warm golden light from the hallway to spill into the study. A middle-aged man stepped inside with measured grace, and the doors closed softly behind him with a resonant thud that echoed through the vast chamber.
Lucas studied the newcomer carefully, his sharpened senses taking in every detail. The man appeared to be in his late fifties, with slicked-back hair that showed traces of distinguished silver at the temples.
A neatly trimmed mustache rested above thin lips, and his square face was framed by a pair of thin spectacles that did nothing to hide the calm, steel-gray eyes beneath. He wore a finely tailored black butler's suit that spoke of quiet elegance and long service.
There was an undeniable air of refined calmness and unwavering loyalty about him, the kind that came only from decades of dedicated duty.
Lucas was momentarily amazed. This was no ordinary servant.
The man eyes met Lucas's intense gaze and raised a single eyebrow before offering a deep, respectful bow.
"Your Majesty," he said, his voice smooth and measured.
The title sent a strange jolt through Lucas. He snapped out of his daze, forcing a calm smile onto his face as he leaned back slightly in the throne.
"Alfred," he replied, the name coming naturally thanks to the implanted memories. "Is something the matter?"
According to the memories he received, this man is Alfred Hartmann had served the royal family for over three decades. His lineage stretched back to the very founding of Brastovia, when the first Hartmann had stood beside the first king as his personal butler.
According to the flood of memories now rooted in Lucas's mind, Alfred had been with the royal family since he was a boy. He knew many of their secrets, their weaknesses, and their quiet moments of despair. More than that, he had become something of a father figure to the young Reinhardt and his remaining sibling, offering guidance and quiet support when the weight of the crown grew too heavy. In a court filled with scheming nobles and treacherous officials, Alfred was perhaps the only person the previous Kaiser had truly trusted.
The butler looked at the young man seated on the throne with evident concern.
"Forgive me, Your Majesty," he said respectfully, "but I heard a scream from within the study. I feared something had happened to you, so I came as quickly as I could."
Lucas was taken aback for a brief second, but he quickly recovered, waving his hand with a small, tired chuckle. "Don't worry, Alfred. I was simply venting out all the accumulated stress and frustration. You know better than anyone how dire the current situation of the kingdom has become. Sometimes… it simply becomes too much to bear in silence."
Alfred's steel-gray eyes flickered with a hint of sadness behind his spectacles. He understood all too well the impossible burden resting on the shoulders of this twenty-year-old Kaiser.
The previous Reinhardt had fought valiantly against the tides of decay, but the strain had ultimately claimed his life. Alfred admired the young ruler's tenacity, even if he worried that no one so young should have to endure such crushing pressure alone.
"Your Majesty," he said softly, bowing once more, "please forgive me if I have not been of greater help. If there is anything I can do, anything at all, do not hesitate to command me."
Lucas shook his head, offering a small but genuine smile. "You already help more than you know simply by remaining at my side, Alfred. Do not burden yourself with unnecessary guilt. I promise you this, it won't be long before everything begins to change."
The room fell into a thoughtful silence. Lucas leaned back in the grand chair, his mind racing as he processed the full horror of his inherited circumstances. The previous Reinhardt had died from overwhelming stress, leaving behind a fractured nation on the brink of annihilation.
Brastovia was being torn apart from within by arrogant nobles who ignored royal decrees, embezzled funds, and maintained their own private armies. Corruption ran rampant through every level of government. Criminal organizations operated openly in the cities, showing no fear of the crown.
Externally, four powerful neighboring nations pressed against Brastovia's borders, having already seized nearly sixty percent of its territory in brutal wars fueled by the desire for arcane crystal deposits. Some nobles were even colluding with these enemies for personal gain.
The royal family's bloodline was nearly extinct, with only two surviving members, leaving the throne dangerously vulnerable. Loyal supporters were few and far between, their combined influence barely enough to maintain a semblance of order.
Lucas felt a deep chill settle over him. He was essentially a lone boat adrift in a storm-tossed sea, surrounded by sharks. No powerful allies. No reliable military. No time to prepare.
The situation was beyond dire, it was apocalyptic. Yet as the despair threatened to overwhelm him, a spark of something colder and sharper began to form in his mind. He had spent years in his previous life studying strategy games, managing resources, and planning conquests in virtual worlds.
If this was the hand fate or that mysterious old man, had dealt him, then he would play it to win.
Taking a deep breath to steady himself, Lucas looked up at Alfred with renewed focus. After a moment of careful thought, a plan began to take shape.
"Alfred," he said, his voice gaining strength, "I want you to send word to all high officials and every noble house. They are to attend an important imperial meeting here at the palace in three days' time."
Alfred's eyes widened slightly in surprise. He hesitated for a brief moment before responding with careful respect. "Your Majesty… forgive me, but I do not believe this will work. You know how these people have become. They show little respect for royal commands these days. Many may not even bother to send representatives, let alone attend in person."
Lucas's lips curled into a wide, confident smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Do not worry about that, Alfred. Simply send the summons to each and every one of them. Whether they choose to come or not is entirely up to them."
Alfred studied the young Kaiser for several long seconds, searching for any sign of uncertainty.
Finding none, the loyal butler simply bowed deeply. "Understood, Your Majesty. I will have the letters prepared and dispatched immediately."
With that, Alfred turned and walked gracefully toward the doors. They closed behind him with a soft, final thud, leaving Lucas alone once more in the vast, opulent study.
He sat in silence for a long moment, his right hand clenching into a tight fist on the armrest of the throne. "No matter what," he muttered under his breath, his voice low and resolute, "what's done is done. There is no turning back now. I don't fully understand what that old geezer did to bring me here, but since I've been given this chance… I will survive. From now on my new identity is now Reinhardt Kaiser von Arkenheim."
Just as those words left his lips, a soft mechanical voice echoed clearly inside his mind, cutting through the silence like a blade.
[Ding!...]
[System Initiating.....]