Grey's journey had taken him far from the opulence of Ravenwood Manor.
Now, as the sun dipped below the horizon, he found himself in a small, unremarkable village nestled at the edge of a vast, whispering forest.
The village was quiet. Only the occasional flicker of lanternlight broke the dusk, casting a warm glow across the worn cobblestone streets.
A light breeze stirred the trees at the outskirts, their rustling branches murmuring secrets of the woods.
He had traveled all day.
His legs now has started to ache.
The weight of the journey pulled at his shoulders, but it wasn't just his body that felt heavy.
The memories from the body's previous owner had fully merged with his own.
As he moved through the silent village, Grey's mind drifted with new knowledge—an influx of foreign thoughts, unfamiliar faces, and the raw truths of a world vastly different from his own.
In this world.
The human domain was divided into five major regions, the Four Borders—North, South, East, and West—and the Central Continent.
The Southern Border, where he now wandered, was under the rule of the Ravenwood House.
There were other Houses—each as powerful as the Ravenwood. Different names, different systems, but the same old world.
In his previous life, kings, emperors, and noble bloodlines ruled through legacy.
Here, they ruled through strength.
Seven powerful guilds, known as the Seven Houses, reigned at the top of humanity's hierarchy. Children born into these Houses were treated as nobles.
Status hadn't disappeared; it had simply changed its face.
The Seven Houses were vast, each a mountain of influence and power.
They were ranked like the people who served them—from F-rank to the rare and near-mythical SS-rank.
Grey's father—no, this body's father—was the Guild Master of the number one House in the human domain.
Then, there was The World Academy.
It stood equal to the Seven Houses.
Not stronger than any one of them, but certainly not weak either.
It was neutral ground.
A place where even the children of the guild leaders were sent.
Knowledge, talent, and growth were the currency of that place.
Its authority was respected, even feared.
It was perhaps the only institution the Seven dared not trample.
What surprised Grey the most, however, was the world's diversity.
In his previous life, only humans possessed intelligence.
Only humans ruled.
But here, other races lived—elves, demons, dwarves, and more.
The boy whose memories he had inherited had never seen one, but the knowledge lingered, faint and curious.
That curiosity was one of the reasons he had chosen the academy.
Of course, there were logical reasons too.
It was safe.
Why?
Because It was beyond Ravenwood's direct control.
Their reach did not extend into the academy's politics, and it would be difficult for them to spy on him there.
He needed to stay hidden for now.
He can sense the killing intent Lucien was emitting toward him...
It was faint but it was unmistakable killing intent...
He believe there was more to Lucien hatred toward him then it seems....
The Ravenwood House was powerful—too powerful.
Whatever he did, they would find out eventually.
But the academy… As it was a neutral place away from the world politics.
It was the only place he could breathe freely.
There was one complication, though: the incident.
Because of what happened between him and Effie, he had been called back. Yet strangely, his name had never been removed from the academy's list.
He hadn't been expelled or restricted.
The academy followed its own rules.
And more than anything… he was curious.
The idea of an academy fascinated him.
In his past life, there had been no such places.
His life had been a battlefield, his teachers war and blood.
Knowledge had come from victory, not from scrolls or lectures.
But a place devoted to learning? A place where people gathered not to kill, but to grow?
It was strange.
Strange… but oddly appealing.
He wanted a peaceful life now.
Quiet.
Normal.
Or at least, something close to it.
As these thoughts stirred inside him, Grey pushed open the door to a local tavern.
The creak of the old wood echoed through the room.
Every eye turned to him.
His appearance, though not extravagant, was too clean, too precise.
The black robe he wore was simple, but it bore golden embroidery that shimmered under the lanternlight.
His posture, the way he carried himself, screamed of noble blood.
He didn't belong here—and everyone knew it.
But his cold demeanor and expressionless face made people avert their gazes.
He walked calmly to a seat in a dimly lit corner and ordered a simple meal.
As the food arrived, Grey turned his thoughts toward the real problem: money.
To reach the World Academy, he needed to travel to one of the major cities in the Southern Border and use a Warp Gate—a colossal construct fueled by mana crystals, capable of transporting people across the continent in seconds.
But it wasn't cheap.
Only the rich or powerful could afford its cost.
But...
It was the last path open to him. His only way forward.
And he needed funds to walk it.
He sighed. "No matter which world one goes to… money is always both the problem and the solution," he muttered under his breath.
There were a few options.
He could take on mercenary work—hunting beasts, gathering rare herbs—but those took time.
Time he didn't have.
There was the potion the butler had given him.
He hadn't used it.
Not because his wounds weren't severe or the fact that he could heal on his own within a week—but because he didn't trust it.
Grey trusted no one.
Never had.
Never would.
If he could sell it. It would fetch a good price.
And if there was something suspicious in it… he would know.
Then there was the artifact.
It hung from his neck—a strange piece shaped like a snake biting its own leg, looped with wire.
It has a eerie feeling.
He wasn't sure what it was.
But one thing he was certain it was too strange to just ignore.
It might have a tracking spell, a curse, or something worse.
But he would check that later, once he reached the Central Continent.
For now, selling the potion was the easiest choice.
Still… it would only cover the warp gate cost.
It wouldn't buy him a weapon.
And he needed a weapon, something that would allow him to defend himself if necessary.
Grey's mind raced as he considered his next move. He needed money, and he needed it fast. Selling the potion might be a temporary solution, but it wasn't enough. He needed to find a way to secure both the funds for the teleportation gate and a weapon to ensure his safety during the journey.
As he ate, Grey kept his ears open, listening to the conversations around him. This village was small, but perhaps it held an opportunity he hadn't considered yet. He had to think strategically, using every resource at his disposal to reach his goal.
Finishing his meal, Grey leaned back in his chair, deep in thought. Countless ways of making money came to mind. One was gambling, but there was no gambling den in this small village. With every other option exhausted, there was only one way to make money that was both easy and fast.
Stealing.
A bitter smile crept across his lips.
"The once mighty emperor now fallen so low as to thievery."
The irony made him chuckle.
He had commanded armies, destroyed kingdoms, and sat on a throne of bones.
But now? He considered pickpocketing.
Not that it bothered him.
He had stolen even as emperor.
Grey don't have a bottom line....
if its serves his goal he will do it...
But he wasn't going to steal from ordinary people.
Not because he was concerned with his moral standing, but because such actions would only cause trouble in the long run.
Maintaining an image in society was crucial, and petty theft would only attract unwanted attention.
So, Grey devised a more strategic plan. He decided to find some thieves, beat them, and take their ill-gotten gains.
Grey's plan was straightforward, a strategy he had employed many times before.
By targeting the thieves themselves, he not only stood to gain the money he needed but would also endear himself to the villagers. After all, removing the thieves from their midst would likely earn him their gratitude and a debt of favor.
It was a calculated move: eliminate the source of trouble and, in the process, secure both funds and goodwill.
The villagers, relieved of the threat and possibly even seeing Grey as a benefactor, would be inclined to support him in any way they could.
This approach allowed Grey to maintain his image while solving his immediate problem.
The simplicity of the plan belied its effectiveness.
By dealing with the thieves, he would not only gain the necessary resources to proceed but also position himself favorably with those who might otherwise have been wary of him.
And to bait the trap, he didn't even need to do anything elaborate.
He just needed to walk.
Wearing what he wore, moving like he did—it was only a matter of time before someone tried to rob him.
He chuckled quietly to himself.
"All I need to do is be in the wrong place at the wrong time."
With the plan set, Grey left the tavern and stepped into the cool night air.
The streets were empty now, shadows long and silent.
He walked.
Past dim alleyways.
Past silent homes.
Every step echoing softly against the stone.
Still, no one came.
He moved from alley to alley, letting the night swallow him whole.
Still, nothing.
Disappointment flickered in his chest.
'Guess no luck tonight,' he thought, turning to head back.
But then—footsteps.
Three figures emerged from the shadows, blocking the path ahead.
Their movements were confident, their intentions clear.
Grey stopped.
His lips curled.
Finally.
His money bags were here.