Zeldryn watched Hera, who was still standing near the table.
Only now did he notice something.
There was quite a lot of sweat on Hera's face.
A few strands of hair near her forehead were even slightly stuck to her skin because of it.
Zeldryn raised an eyebrow.
Why is she sweating that much?
His bedroom window was open.
Air from outside continued flowing into the room.
On top of that, they were on the second floor.
The room shouldn't have been hot enough to make someone sweat this much.
Was she really that focused on reading?
Zeldryn observed Hera for a moment.
Or was she actually that nervous?
It was difficult to tell.
Maybe both.
After all, Hera had been reading that letter like someone taking a life-or-death exam.
Now that Zeldryn understood the important part of the letter, he saw no reason to keep her there any longer.
“All right, that's enough.”
Hera immediately raised her head.
Zeldryn continued.
“You can go.”
Hera's expression changed slightly.
Even though it lasted only a moment, Zeldryn could clearly see that she looked as though she had finally been given permission to breathe again.
“Y-yes, Lord.”
Hera immediately bowed.
“I'll take my leave.”
Zeldryn didn't answer.
He only gave a small nod.
Hera then turned around.
Her steps toward the door were slightly faster than when she had entered earlier.
But she still tried to maintain a normal pace so it wouldn't look like she was fleeing the room.
Zeldryn simply watched without saying anything.
A few seconds later, Hera finally reached the door.
Her hand reached for the handle.
She slowly opened it, stepped outside, then carefully closed it again.
Click.
The sound was completely different from when Kera had left earlier.
No slamming.
No loud noise.
No vibration that made Zeldryn want to curse.
Just the quiet sound of a door gently closing.
And finally...
Zeldryn was alone in his room again.
He stared at the door for several moments.
Then his gaze slowly returned to the invitation on the table.
“Hmm...”
Zeldryn rested his chin on one hand.
Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.
“A birthday, huh...?”
5 Starfall Month 245 LHK.
Marquis Zorin Giorry's forty-sixth birthday.
Around twenty-five days from now.
But after thinking about it for a little longer, Zeldryn began to feel that something was strange.
Very strange.
Zorin was the father of this body.
Zeldryn Giorry's biological father.
So why would a father need to send a formal invitation just to ask his own son to attend his birthday celebration?
Zeldryn frowned.
Isn't that strange?
If someone in a family celebrated their birthday, wouldn't the other family members normally be expected to attend?
There shouldn't be any need for a formal invitation.
Especially between a father and his son.
Yet what Zeldryn had received was exactly that.
A formal invitation.
Complete with the Giorry family seal.
The way it was done made Zeldryn feel as though he wasn't part of the family at all.
But a guest.
An outsider who had to be invited before being allowed to come.
Zeldryn tapped one finger against the table.
Tap.
Tap.
Or...
His expression shifted slightly.
Does he actually not want me to come?
The possibility started to make sense.
Maybe Marquis Zorin couldn't simply forbid his biological son from attending his own birthday celebration.
Perhaps because of the family name.
Noble traditions.
Or some other reason Zeldryn still didn't know.
So the only thing he could do was still invite him...
While treating him like a stranger.
Zeldryn looked at the letter once again.
“...Strange.”
The more he learned about the Giorry family, the more questions appeared.
Why had Zeldryn been placed in this mansion since infancy?
Why did Anna visit so rarely?
Why had Anna seemingly been forced to return to the main residence during her last visit?
And now...
Why would a father invite his own biological son to his birthday using a formal letter?
Zeldryn didn't have a real answer to any of them.
Eventually, he stood up from the chair.
“Whatever.”
For now, thinking about all of it would only make his head even more crowded.
He walked toward the window that had remained open this entire time.
A few steps later, Zeldryn stood in front of it.
The outside air immediately brushed against his face.
He looked at the scenery stretching out from the mansion's second floor.
Green trees.
A forest that still looked incredibly dense.
Village houses scattered in the distance.
Several people appeared tiny from where he stood.
And far above all of it...
A bright blue sky stretched endlessly overhead.
Zeldryn stood there quietly for quite some time.
So many things had happened since he woke up in this world.
Someone else's body.
A world he had previously known only through a novel.
A family filled with mysteries.
The reputation of a bastard child.
Mana.
That bizarre loop.
And now a Level 3 Manholer who, for some reason, had been sent from the main residence to live in this mansion.
Zeldryn raised one hand.
He looked at his own palm.
The hand of a twelve-year-old boy.
But now...
That hand belonged to him.
“Well...”
Zeldryn smiled faintly.
“Even if I transmigrated into the body of a terrible Young Lord...”
He slowly clenched his hand.
“At least I really do have a Mana Hole.”
Even if he was still only a candidate for Level 1 Manholer, simply having a Mana Hole already opened countless possibilities for him.
And there was something else just as important.
“I get to start again at twelve.”
Twelve years old.
Still incredibly young.
There was still so much time.
Completely different from Reka, who had only truly regretted his life after it was already too late.
His career had gone nowhere.
He kept getting older.
His abilities never improved.
And he had thrown away far too many opportunities.
Now he had been given something impossible.
A chance to start again.
This time, I can still fix things.
Zeldryn looked back toward the sky.
He had no idea who might stand in his way someday.
The protagonist of this world.
Zorin Giorry.
Kera.
The Giorry family.
Or people he hadn't even met yet.
Right now, Zeldryn was weak.
Extremely weak.
Kera had just rendered him completely helpless for nearly twenty minutes.
But he still possessed knowledge from the novel.
Even if his memory wasn't perfect, there was still plenty of information he could take advantage of.
And after seeing Kera's behavior today...
The man was annoying.
Rough.
Completely merciless when teaching him.
But Kera clearly hadn't come here to kill him.
If anything...
In his own way, the man seemed determined to push Zeldryn into becoming stronger.
If that's the case...
Zeldryn tightened his fist.
Then at least I have a chance.
He didn't need enough strength to rule the world.
He didn't need to become the strongest.
He didn't need to defeat everyone.
If the Giorry family truly faced destruction one day, just as he remembered from the novel...
Zeldryn only wanted to be strong enough to survive.
Become a Manholer.
Be capable of protecting himself.
And if one day he truly had to leave all of this behind...
Then at the very least, he wanted enough ability to work and earn money with his own hands.
Live freely.
Without depending on the Giorry name.
Without repeating Reka's old life, drifting without purpose until everything was already too late.
Zeldryn lifted his head.
The brilliant blue sky filled his vision.
For a moment, he imagined the original owner of this body.
Zeldryn Giorry.
The delinquent child who had spent his life drinking, causing trouble, abusing others, and wasting everything he had been given.
Zeldryn raised one hand.
One finger slowly stood upright.
His middle finger.
He held it high toward the sky.
As though the old Zeldryn Giorry were somewhere up there and could see him.
“And you, Zeldryn...”
The corner of his lips rose.
“You fucking bastard.”
The wind flowed through his black hair from the open window.
“Just stay there and relax.”
Zeldryn continued staring at the sky without lowering his middle finger.
“I'll make the most of this body.”
A second chance.
A new body.
A new world.
And a life that he refused to let end with the same regrets again.
Zeldryn smiled.
“This is...”
His eyes remained fixed on the sky.
“The Life I Refuse to Waste.”