There are things in life that simply aren't meant for you. No matter how much you struggle, no matter how desperately you wish for them, they will always remain out of reach. But some people… they refuse to understand that truth until reality smashes it into their faces.
Ryzen Malfoy was one of those people.
As the only son of the prestigious Malfoy family—a marquis rank family of considerable power, he grew up getting everything he wanted. Life was smooth, effortless. Until the day he saw her.
Elena Carmil. The daughter of a mere viscount family. He first laid eyes on her during his twelfth birthday banquet, and from that moment, something inside him clicked. He became obsessed with her.
Using the weight of his family's name, he forced an engagement, shamelessly declaring his love for her at every chance. But Elena? She never once returned those feelings. To her, he was nothing more than a shadow that loomed too close, a nuisance.
He followed her everywhere. Kept tab on the people she met. Caged her with a suffocating affection she never asked for. And the cruelest part? Her heart already belonged to someone else. Someone she wanted to be with.
When the two of them entered the academy, it took only six months for fate to tip in her favor. With the help of her crush—and a Lucien Brighthart—she escaped his grasp. A duel was all it took, the engagement was shattered. All it took was for lucien to provoke ryzen to duel on this condition and ryzen being the idiotic one accepted it.
But did Ryzen let it go? Of course not. His love twisted into hatred. Revenge burned in his chest. He tried everything to kill Lucien —poison , assassination and many more but failed at every turn. HIn his anger he forgot one important thing. Lucien was no ordinary human. He was the only son of Brighthart family—a ducal level and also and most important — Hero of light. In the end, his desperate schemes earned him death sentence but his parents interfered and the decision was changed to exile him to the battlefield—a punishment that was indirect death. A 16 year old sheltered brat on battlefield ? Courting death.
And that was supposed to be the end of Ryzen Malfoy's story.
Supposed to be.
"…Why him? Of all people… why did it have to be him?"
A low, irritated voice broke the silence of a lavish bedroom. Sitting on the edge of a bed, a young man with disheveled black hair and sharp purple eyes buried his face in one hand, sighing as if the weight of the heavens had been dumped on his shoulders.
"Who picks these transmigration bodies anyway? If I find him...hehehe....let's just say they better pray I don't."
He let out a humorless chuckle, thick with frustration.
One moment, he had been reading a novel. The next, he woke up inside it. And not just in any role but in the body of Ryzen Malfoy, a minor villain whose only purpose was to make the protagonist and side heroine grow closer. Yep not even the main heroine.
Talk about Shitty luck.
"…First things first. Let's deal with the death flag."
It had only been two hours since he woke up here. Two hours to scream internally, to panic, to hope for some miraculous cheat system or golden finger that never came. And after all that, one decision remained.
If this world wanted him dead, then fine. He would challenge the world. With that, he rose from the edge of the bed and made his way toward the door. The polished wooden panels creaked softly as he stepped out into the corridor, only to be greeted by a maid waiting attentively.
She had short brown hair neatly tied into a bun at the back of her head, her posture straight and proper. Her uniform was a classic black-and-white , a crisp white blouse beneath a black corseted bodice, paired with a long flowing skirt that brushed against her ankles. A frilled apron was tied neatly around her waist, and lace-trimmed cuffs peeked from her sleeves. A textbook maid appearance.
"Young Master," she said with a graceful bow, her tone respectful , as was expected from someone addressing the heir of a marquis household. "Do you require anything?"
Ryzen's violet eyes shifted toward her. "Maria," he called, his voice calm. But inside ' Fuck! that scared me.'
"Where are my parents at the moment?" He asked.
The maid straightened. "Young Master, the Lady is currently in the garden. The Lord remains in his office."
'Mother or Father… who to go to?' After a quick consideration. He chose—
"Lead me to where my mother is."
"As you command, Young Master."
Maria did not harbor even the slightest suspicion that the Ryzen standing before her was not the same boy she had served for years. How could she? The truth was simple—integration. The soul of the original Ryzen and the soul of the transmigrator had merged seamlessly. Every memory, every mannerism, every subtle inflection in speech—the current Ryzen had it all. All he need is to Switch to Old Ryzen mode and then His tone, his gestures—they would become indistinguishable from the original.
Of course, this integration came with another… unexpected benefit. One that would alter Ryzen Malfoy's fate entirely. But that, perhaps, is a tale for another time.
The two made their way down the grand hallway, the tap of Ryzen's polished shoes echoing softly against the marble floor. Ornate chandeliers hung from the high ceiling, their crystal pendants scattering fragments of light across gilded walls. .
After a few minutes of walking, they stepped into an open space where the air felt fresh and carried a soft floral scent. The garden spread wide, filled with colors of red, purple, and gold. Petals swayed gently in the breeze, some drifting down like tiny flakes. Sunlight shone over trimmed hedges, casting neat shadows on the stone paths that wound through bright flowerbeds. The place was calm yet full of life, as if nature was quietly showing its beauty. A type of place where you would feel relax after a hard day.
At the heart of this sanctuary stood an elegant dome, its structure of pristine white marble adorned with faint blue patterns that shimmered under the sunlight. Beneath this canopy, seated with effortless grace, was a woman.
Her obsidian-black hair fell in smooth waves, framing a face both sharp and graceful. Pale skin lent her an almost ethereal contrast, while her crimson eyes held a calm yet piercing intensity that drew attention instantly. High cheekbones, defined brows, and naturally tinted lips gave her an air of authority.
She was none other than My Mother.
Celine malfoy.