Damien woke to the sound of choking.
Not his own, thankfully. That would've been a short transmigration.
The maid who'd brought his breakfast tray was on the floor, foam bubbling from her lips, fingers clawing at her throat. The silver tray lay overturned, porridge spreading across the expensive carpet like pale blood.
[Poison Resistance Activated!]
[Lethal Toxin Neutralized: Moonshade Extract]
[Assassination Attempt Prevented]
"Huh." Damien sat up, watching her final twitches with detached interest. "So that's what Moonshade poisoning looks like. The novel's description didn't do it justice."
[Enemy Deceased]
[Consumption Available: Kitchen Maid - Level 3]
[Time Limit: 60 seconds]
He knelt beside her, hand hovering over her still-warm corpse. A maid. Level 3. Pathetic. But...
"Waste not, want not."
[Consuming...]
[Ability Gained: Poison Detection Lv.1]
[Duration: Permanent - First Consumption Bonus]
[Void Points: 18/20]
The sensation was different this time. Gentler. The maid hadn't been a fighter—her essence tasted of flour, fear, and a surprising amount of resentment. Interesting.
A knock at the door interrupted his analysis.
"Master Damien?" Another maid's voice, nervous. "Is everything alright? We heard—"
"Just dropped my tray," Damien called back, already moving the body behind the bed. "Clumsy me. Send someone to clean up in an hour."
"Yes, sir."
Footsteps retreated. Damien looked at the corpse, then at the poisoned porridge seeping into the carpet.
"Room service here really is terrible," he muttered, then paused. "Wait. How did she know to poison my food? I didn't order breakfast."
[Poison Detection Active]
[Scanning consumables...]
[Additional toxins detected in water pitcher]
"Of course they poisoned the water too." Damien laughed, genuinely amused. "Thorough. I can respect that."
Someone really wanted him dead. The Order, obviously, but this felt more... personal.
A sharp knock interrupted his thoughts. This time, the door opened without waiting for permission.
Astrid stood in the doorway, dressed for travel in a dark cloak that made her silver hair shine like moonlight. Her eyes took in the scene—overturned tray, suspicious stain on the carpet, Damien still in sleeping clothes—and narrowed.
"Breakfast disagreement," Damien explained.
"Where's the body?"
He pointed behind the bed. "You know, most people would ask about the mess first."
"Most people aren't harboring fugitive assassins." She stepped inside, closing the door. "Poison?"
"Moonshade. Classic choice. They got the water pitcher too."
Astrid's expression didn't change, but something flickered in her eyes. "The maid was new. Hired last week."
"After my supposed death was announced."
"Yes." She pulled something from her cloak. "Take this."
A silver ring. Simple band, no ornamentation. Damien took it, immediately feeling the enchantment.
[Item Equipped: Valemont Tracking Ring]
[Effects: +5 Defense, Location Tracking (Hidden), Emergency Shield (1 use)]
[Note: She thinks you don't know. Adorable.]
"For protection," Astrid said.
"Thank you," he said, letting genuine gratitude color his voice. Let her think he was fooled. The tracking could be useful—when assassins came, she'd know he was in danger.
"Try not to die before I return," she said, adjusting her cloak. "It would be inconvenient."
"I'll do my best to remain convenient."
Something flickered in her eyes. "The Damien I knew would have said 'I don't die that easily.'"
"Well," Damien smiled, the expression not reaching his eyes, "we both know that's not true anymore."
She studied him for a long moment. "Marcus will train you while I'm gone. Try not to kill him."
"No promises."
"I'm serious. He's Gold tier. You're..." She gestured vaguely. "Whatever you are now."
"Adaptable?"
"That's one word for it." She moved to the door, then paused. "There's a package hidden in the wine cellar. Third rack, behind the Vintage 437. Don't open it unless absolutely necessary."
"Define absolutely necessary."
"You'll know." She looked back at him one last time. "Whatever you're becoming, Damien, try to remember—some changes can't be undone."
The door closed with a soft click.
[Hidden Quest Unlocked: Astrid's Secret Package]
[Hidden Quest Updated: Astrid's True Motive - Progress 10%]
Damien stared at the notifications, then at the dead maid, then at his poisoned room.
"Well," he said to no one, "guess I should find somewhere else to sleep."
---
An hour later, Damien stood in the training courtyard, watching Marcus test the edge of a practice sword. The former Knight-Captain moved with the casual grace of someone who'd spent decades perfecting the art of killing.
"First lesson," Marcus said without preamble, "is pain."
The wooden blade cracked against Damien's ribs before he could blink. He rolled with the impact, muscle memory saving him from broken bones.
[Damage Taken: -15 HP]
[Status: Bruised Ribs]
[Marcus is holding back 90% of his strength]
"Slow," Marcus commented. "Again."
This time Damien was ready. When Marcus moved, he tried to dodge—
The blade caught him in the shoulder instead.
CRACK.
[Damage Taken: -20 HP]
[Status: Bruised Shoulder]
"Better angle," Marcus said mildly. "But still too slow."
Damien spat to the side. "Maybe if you weren't hitting so hard—"
"Your enemies won't hold back." Another strike, this one to his thigh. "Neither will I."
For the next hour, Marcus systematically beat him. Not enough to cause permanent damage, but enough to hurt. A lot.
[Pain Tolerance Learned]
[Reduce physical damage by 5%]
"You take hits well," Marcus observed, finally lowering his sword. "Most would be crying by now."
"Most people haven't died before." Damien wiped blood from his mouth. "Changes your perspective on pain."
"Indeed." Marcus tossed him a water skin. "Lady Astrid seems to think you're worth saving. I'm not convinced."
"Fair."
"But," Marcus continued, "you killed two assassins last night with no core. While I dealt with the third." He paused. "That's... noteworthy."
"Right place, right time."
Marcus's eyes sharpened. "You set a decoy. Positioned yourself perfectly. Struck with precision. That's not luck."
"Muscle memory?"
"Perhaps." Marcus picked up another practice sword. "Tell me, how did you know they were coming?"
Damien shrugged. "Instinct? When you're marked for death, you learn to expect visitors."
"Hmm." Marcus didn't look convinced. "Your stance is atrocious. We'll start with basic forms."
The next two hours were somehow worse than the beating. Marcus corrected every minute detail, from foot placement to breathing rhythm. But Damien absorbed it all, the knowledge slotting into place alongside Damien's muscle memory.
[Basic Swordsmanship Learned]
[Sword damage +10%]
[Combo attacks unlocked]
"Better," Marcus said finally. "You learn quickly."
"Good teachers help."
"Flattery won't make me go easier on you tomorrow."
"Wouldn't dream of it."
Marcus sheathed his sword. "A word of advice. Whatever you're hiding—and you are hiding something—be careful. This world has a way of consuming those who reach too far."
"Speaking from experience?"
"Speaking from observation." Marcus turned to leave. "The last person who could do what I suspect you can do... well. Let's just say there's a reason the Emperor banned certain types of magic."
He left Damien alone in the courtyard with that ominous statement.
[Lore Discovered: The Banned Arts]
[Investigation Progress: 1%]
"Great," Damien muttered. "More mysteries."
---
That evening, Damien found Timothy in the wine cellar. The young servant nearly dropped the bottle he was dusting.
"M-Master Damien! I was just—"
"Relax, Tim." Damien closed the cellar door behind him. "Can I call you Tim? Good. We need to talk."
"About what, sir?"
"About who hired you to spy on me."
The boy's face went white. "I don't know what you—"
"Tim." Damien sighed, testing the edge of a wine opener. "I just survived a poisoned breakfast. I'm having a very bad day. Please don't make it worse."
Timothy's eyes darted to the exit. Damien moved to block it, not with supernatural speed, just good positioning.
"Here's what's going to happen," Damien said calmly. "You're going to keep spying. But for me now. In exchange, I won't tell Marcus you're a spy. He doesn't like spies."
[Intimidation Successful]
[Servant Network Established: 1/10]
"I... I was hired by Lord Garrett's people," Timothy stammered. "To report on your condition. Whether you were really powerless."
"And?"
"I told them you were. But after last night..." He swallowed. "The other servants are scared. They're saying you're not human anymore."
"Smart servants." Damien stepped aside. "From now on, you report to me. Everything you hear, see, or suspect. In return, you live. Fair?"
"Yes, sir."
"Good. Now, tell me about the servant passages."
Timothy's information was gold. Hidden corridors throughout the mansion, perfect for moving unseen. Food delivery schedules that would reveal more poison attempts. Which servants belonged to which faction.
"One more thing," Timothy said nervously. "I overheard the kitchen staff. They're expecting a wine delivery tonight. But the delivery men... they're not who they claim to be."
"How do you know?"
"Because the real delivery company already came this morning. Before... before Martha tried to poison you."
Interesting. Damien filed that away.
[Warning: Hostile Presence Detected]
[Location: Approaching wine cellar]
[Count: Unknown]
[Threat Level: Calculating...]
"Now," Damien said, taking the lamp, "go hide behind those large barrels over there. And whatever you do, don't make a sound until I tell you to. Understand?"
The servant nodded and scurried away just as heavy footsteps approached the cellar door.
The servant scrambled to obey just as the cellar door opened.
"Delivery!" A cheerful voice called. Too cheerful. Three men entered, carrying wine crates. The lead man was smiling, but his eyes were scanning, searching.
[Threat Identified: Silver Tier Assassins x3]
[Bronze Tier Support x2]
"Gentlemen," Damien said pleasantly, stepping into view. "Working rather late, aren't you?"
The lead assassin's smile widened. "Customer service never sleeps, sir. Where would you like these?"
"Oh, just leave them there." Damien picked up a wine bottle, examining the label. "Though I'm curious. How did you get past the guards?"
"We're very persuasive."
"I'm sure." Damien uncorked the bottle with the wine opener. "Would you like to try some? It would be rude not to offer."
The assassins exchanged glances. The game was up, and everyone knew it.
"Actually," the leader said, drawing a blade, "we're more interested in what's in your veins."
"My blood?" Damien tsked. "That's a terrible vintage. Very bitter. Lots of spite."
The first assassin lunged.
Damien threw the wine in his face and drove the corkscrew through his eye.
[Critical Hit!]
[Instant Kill]
[Experience Gained: 200]
"See?" Damien said conversationally, already moving as the others attacked. "Bitter."
The cellar erupted into chaos. Without Shadow Step, Damien had to rely on the environment. He kicked over wine racks, creating obstacles. Smashed bottles, turning the floor treacherous. Used the narrow spaces to prevent them from surrounding him.
[Assassin's Instinct Active]
[Predicted attack trajectory]
He ducked a sword swing, came up inside the man's guard, and opened his throat with a broken bottle.
[Kill Confirmed]
[Experience Gained: 180]
"Two down," Damien panted. "Who's next?"
The remaining three spread out, professional despite their losses. These weren't amateurs.
That's when Timothy, brave stupid Timothy, tried to help by pushing a wine rack.
It missed the assassins entirely but gave away his position.
"Kill the witness," the leader ordered.
"No." Damien moved without thinking, putting himself between Timothy and the Bronze tier assassin's blade. It bit deep into his shoulder.
[Damage Taken: -45 HP]
[Status: Bleeding]
[HP: 23/100]
"Brave," the assassin sneered. "Stupid, but brave."
"Story of my life." Damien grabbed the blade with his bare hand, holding it in place. "Or death. I forget which."
He headbutted the assassin, grabbed his dropped dagger, and returned it to him. Repeatedly.
[Kill Confirmed]
[Level Up! 2→3]
[HP Restored: 50/110]
The timing couldn't have been better. The level up's healing saved him from bleeding out.
"Tim," Damien gasped, "remember those oil lamps I mentioned earlier? Now would be good."
The servant, pale but determined, grabbed a lamp and threw it. Oil splashed across the floor.
"Everyone's a critic," the leader muttered, he and his remaining companion backing toward the exit.
That's when Marcus appeared in the doorway behind them.
"Gentlemen," the swordsman said mildly. "Leaving so soon?"
The leader tried to run. Marcus's sword took his head off before he made it two steps.
The last assassin, trapped between Marcus and Damien, made the smart choice. He dropped his weapons.
"I surrender!"
"Oh good," Damien said, walking over. "I was hoping someone would say that."
He touched the man's face, activating his power.
[Void Consumption Activated]
[Absorbing: Bronze Tier Assassin]
[Ability Gained: Basic Tracking]
[Void Points: 25/30]
The assassin's eyes widened as he felt his life force drain. "What... what are you?"
"Hungry," Damien answered, watching him crumble.
[Kill Confirmed]
[Hidden Quest Progress: First Feast - 5/10]
Marcus surveyed the carnage. Four bodies, blood everywhere, traumatized servant, and Damien standing in the middle of it all with a wine opener.
"Five assassins," Marcus observed. "Impressive."
"Four. You got one."
"True." Marcus noticed Damien's shoulder. "You're injured."
"I'm fine." Damien wasn't fine. The adrenaline was wearing off, and everything hurt. "Just need to sit down for a minute."
He sat heavily on a wine crate, then looked at Timothy. "You okay, Tim?"
"You... you saved me." The servant stared. "Why?"
"Because you're my spy now. Can't have you dying on the first day." Damien closed his eyes. "Plus, employee retention is important."
Marcus snorted. Actually snorted. "You're not what I expected."
"So you keep saying."
"The Damien Farley I heard about was cold. Efficient. Professional." Marcus stepped over a corpse. "You make jokes while bleeding out."
"Coping mechanism," Damien admitted. "If I don't laugh, I'll probably scream."
"Hmm." Marcus pulled out a healing potion. "Drink. We need to discuss your defensive footwork. It's atrocious."
As Damien drank the bitter potion, feeling his wounds close, he caught Marcus's expression. Not disgust or fear.
Approval. And maybe, just maybe, amusement.
"Tim," Damien called. "Help me move these bodies. And then find me a new room. One without poisoned everything."
"Yes, sir. Right away, sir." Timothy hurried to obey, still shaking but determined.
[Level: 3]
[Abilities Gained: Enhanced Reflexes, Basic Tracking]
[Void Points: 25/30]
[New Skill: Cellar Fighting - +10% combat effectiveness in enclosed spaces]
As they worked, Damien couldn't help but smile. Sure, he was injured, exhausted, and covered in other people's blood.
But he was alive. He was growing stronger.
And tomorrow, Marcus would teach him proper footwork.
Life was good. Violent, dangerous, and morally questionable.
But good.