A few hours had passed since the painful episode, and the room had been quiet except for the occasional shifting of chairs and soft murmurs between the physician and Lucas’s parents. When Lucas finally stirred awake, his head still throbbed, but the chaos in his mind had settled enough for him to make one thing clear to himself—he needed to get out. He needed air. He needed to think.
Without hesitation, he pushed himself up, his body still weak, but his determination unwavering. His voice ca out firm, cutting through the silence.
"I want to go outside. I want to take a walk... alone."
Elder Gideon, who had been sitting near the bedside, imdiately turned to face him, his brows furrowing. "Absolutely not," he said, his voice leaving no room for argunt. "You just woke up. Your body is still too weak, and you are in no condition to be wandering around unsupervised."
Lucas clenched his jaw, frustration boiling inside him. He had barely had a mont to breathe since waking up in this world, and now they wanted to confine him like so fragile doll. He couldn’t take it anymore.
His voice rose, harsher than he intended. "I said I’m going, and nobody’s stopping !"
The sudden outburst caught everyone off guard. Even Lady Mariana flinched slightly at the force behind his words. Selene, who had been sitting quietly nearby, stood up with concern in her eyes.
"Xavier, please," she said, stepping closer. "If you need air, then let go with you. You shouldn’t be alone in this state."
But Lucas shook his head, his patience already wearing thin. "I want to be alone," he repeated, this ti with finality.
The tension in the room thickened, everyone exchanging glances, but before another argunt could break out, the physician let out a slow breath and spoke.
"Let him be alone for so ti."
Elder Gideon turned to the physician, clearly displeased, but the man gave him a small nod, silently reassuring him. With a heavy sigh, the elder relented, though his expression remained stern.
Lucas didn’t wait for any more protests. He threw the blanket off himself and forced his legs over the side of the bed. The mont his feet touched the cold floor, his body betrayed him—his legs gave out, and for a split second, he was falling.
The physician moved quickly, reaching out to catch him, but Lucas jerked away, refusing the help. With a stubborn grit, he forced himself upright again, ignoring the way his limbs trembled under his own weight.
Nobody said anything as he took his first slow, unsteady steps toward the door.
He limped, but he didn’t stop.
The mont he stepped out of the house, the air felt different—he wasn’t sure if it was the cold breeze against his skin or the realization that he was truly out of that suffocating room. But as he walked through the compound, he noticed the way people stopped and stared.
Whispers. Shocked expressions.
They all knew. They all knew he had been in a coma, and now here he was, walking again.
Lucas ignored them all.
He just kept walking.
Lucas limped out of the compound, his body still weak, but he forced himself to keep going. The fresh air hit his face, cool against his skin, and for the first ti since waking up in this world, he felt like he could breathe. He didn’t stop moving, even though every step sent a dull ache through his legs. He had to see it for himself—this world, this city, this ti period he had been thrown into.
And the mont he stepped past the last gate of the Alden estate and into the streets beyond, he realized just how different everything was.
His gaze traveled over the stone-paved streets, uneven in so areas, worn down from years of use. The buildings lining both sides of the road were built mostly from stone and wood, their structures solid but far from uniform. So were small, humble hos with wooden shutters and slanted rooftops, while others stood taller, with intricate carvings along their stone walls, possibly belonging to wealthier rchants or nobles. The roofs varied—so covered in clay tiles, others with thatched straw, giving the city a mix of rustic simplicity and refined craftsmanship.
The street itself was bustling with life. Vendors stood by their stalls, calling out to passing custors, offering everything from fresh produce to glistening jewels that caught the sunlight. The scent of baked bread and roasted at wafted through the air, mixing with the less pleasant slls of horse manure and sweat, the kind of thing one could only notice when truly taking in their surroundings. People moved about, dressed in tunics, robes, and dresses, so adorned with belts
The city stretched out before him, a stark contrast to the futuristic skyline of his past life. Instead of towering skyscrapers made of glass and steel, what he saw were grand structures built from stone and wood, their foundations solid, their designs intricate. So of the buildings had pointed rooftops, almost like old European castles, while others were more modest but still impressive, their exteriors decorated with banners that bore symbols he didn’t recognize. The streets were paved with cobblestones, uneven in places but clearly well-maintained, and they twisted and turned in a structured yet almost chaotic pattern.
Lucas walked further, his eyes scanning every detail, his mind trying to process just how far back in ti he truly was. He had no doubt now—he was centuries away from the world he once knew. The technology, the culture, the very air itself—it all felt ancient, untouched by modern advancents.
And yet, despite how old everything looked, there was sothing about this city that made him feel unsettled.
Then he saw them.
The walls.
Towering, massive walls that encased the entire city in a perfectly squared shape. He had seen them from a distance, but now that he was outside the compound and standing in the open streets, their sheer size beca even more overwhelming. They lood over everything, at least fifty ters high—no, maybe even more—and their construction was unlike anything he had ever seen before.
Thick stone slabs, reinforced with what looked like ancient engravings, ran along the entire periter. At the corners of the city, massive watchtowers stood tall, their designs ant for defense, their tops equipped with what seed like heavy-duty ballistae.
Lucas frowned.
What the hell were they protecting themselves from?
He had seen walled cities before in history books, but nothing like this. Fifty-two ters high—wasn’t that excessive? Walls that tall weren’t just ant to keep out bandits or invading armies. They were ant to keep out sothing much bigger.
Sothing dangerous.
Lucas’s eyes trailed along the structure, his mind racing with possibilities. Could it be war? Had this kingdom been in constant conflict, forcing them to build defenses this extre? Or was it sothing else entirely? A beast? A force of nature?
A bad feeling settled in his gut.
He wanted answers. He needed to know more about this place, about this era, but asking outright would only draw suspicion. As far as everyone else was concerned, he was supposed to be Xavier Alden, a noble son who had lost his mory. If he suddenly started asking about the year, about history, about things he was supposed to already know, it would raise too many questions—questions he wasn’t ready to answer.
Lucas exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair as he glanced up at the towering structure once more. Whatever the reason for these walls, one thing was certain.
This world was far m
ore dangerous than he initially thought.
And he had just begun to scratch the surface.
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