Two days later, in the late hours of the evening, golden rays of sunlight sneaked through the castle's ancient windows, gently touching Arthur's face.
He was lying on his bed, feeling the weight of his eyelids, as if they carried the weight of the world.
He rubbed his tired eyes, trying to shake off the lethargy that had built up over the past two days. He had forced himself to stay in bed, pretending to be ill to avoid questions that might be more annoying than the answers he might have to give.
"How long will I be trapped in this place?" he whispered to himself, feeling a sense of frustration creeping into his chest.
"No phone, no internet, not even a good novel to read. Is this the life someone like me, addicted to entertainment in the twenty-first century, is supposed to live?"
Boredom was killing time slowly, as if each second passed like an hour.
Arthur, who was used to the fast-paced life and endless entertainment of his previous world, found himself trapped in a socially and productively backward world.
The silent walls of the castle and its cold stone ceiling made him feel isolated, as if he were in a cell.
This world, with all its ancient traditions and lack of modern entertainment, was completely distant from the civilization he had grown up in.
"Damn, those writers and authors are really deceptive!" Arthur muttered quietly as he turned on his bed.
"How do they write stories about people like me, active and enjoying entertainment, then make them adapt so easily after being transported to another world? Fantasy stories are really written to dumb down intelligence."
Arthur felt anger rising within him, but it quickly turned to regret. "Thinking about the future that awaits me now, I wish I had spent more time playing games or watching something fun before I found myself here."
Arthur sighed, feeling the weight of boredom pressing on him.
Despite all the emotions that were crowding his mind, he decided to get up.
He couldn't stand being in his small room any longer.
He wanted to go out for a bit, to breathe some fresh air, to feel that he was still alive. But he knew that any reckless move could put him in danger.
"True, I now have some strength and self-protection thanks to the card I summoned, but I shouldn't rush," Arthur thought cautiously.
"I don't fully understand the limits of the extraordinary abilities here, nor do I know yet what potential trump cards the Werner family or other noble families might have."
He paused for a moment, recalling what he knew about this world. "It must be taken into account that every noble family in this world possesses some hidden abilities that have accumulated over generations, like the Werner family, which forms the true foundation of their power. In fact, I shouldn't worry too much, but I should always remain cautious."
Arthur took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. "The most important thing in this society is that bloodlines and ancestry determine everything. As long as I don't raise suspicion on this point, I am safe."
But he reminded himself of the reality. "I must be careful. It's best not to do anything reckless as long as I am under surveillance."
Of course, it was no stranger to him to be under constant watch, especially after the reckless actions of his predecessor that led to his death and Arthur's takeover of his body.
In fact, his father, the Viscount Rossun, had visited him, as had his older brothers.
Arthur didn't know whether they were pretending to be concerned or if they truly felt something.
"I don't know if they really care about me, or if it's just a family act until I'm kicked out," Arthur wondered to himself, reflecting on their behavior. "But for me now, that doesn't matter. I'm not a psychologist or an investigator from my 0past life, so I can't easily figure out the answer. Right now... I can only trust my new memories."
Arthur didn't have the ability to read their fake expressions or intentions just from the TV shows he watched in his previous life.
All he had were the memories from this life, and he intended to base his actions on them.
Thanks to his new memory and his gradual understanding of the identity of this body, he would know how to mimic or act appropriately in these situations.
He handled his relationships with his new family and the servants around him cautiously, for in the end, every uncalculated step could cost him more than he could afford.
With the help of a palace maid, Arthur dressed in his usual attire for daily work. His shirt, made of fine foreign fabric woven from rare moonflower threads, gently touched his body.
He could feel its slight coolness against his skin, as if the fabric reminded him of the reality of his place in this strange world, where he didn't know who his friends or enemies were.
"Unnecessary luxury, but since I'm in this body now... I won't refuse a little comfort."
As he was tying his belt, he heard footsteps approaching his room. He paused for a moment, then opened the door.
After a while, one of the servants approached Arthur, who was standing there, and spoke: "Sir Arthur, the Viscount Rossun has heard that you've left your room and asked us to inform you that dinner is ready in the family dining hall."
Arthur was surprised by this and looked at the maid who had dressed him and brought him some additional jewelry from outside just moments ago.
After a brief hesitation, Arthur understood and then turned his head toward the servant, saying in a calm voice: "Alright, I'll be there shortly."
The servant continued on his way, while Arthur stood for another moment, contemplating.
.....
After leaving his room and changing his clothes again to match the traditions of the Werner family's evening meals, Arthur wandered through parts of the castle, trying to activate his memory and recall the details of this new world.
This place was known as "Nirva Castle," named after the magical horse "Nirva," which, it was said, the founder of the family took as his partner in battles, until it fell beside him in the last battle of the Viscount, before he was granted the title of Viscount Werner.
In honor of this loyal companion, the founder chose the name of the partner he trusted more than his own relatives, to become the title of the family he founded.
But Arthur wasn't sure of the truth behind this story.
"Maybe it's just a legend to enhance the family's prestige, or maybe there's some hidden truth behind it," he thought as he reflected on the family's history.
"In the end, it's a nice story... but isn't it just a story, after all?"
This story might seem a bit sentimental, but it wasn't unusual in this kingdom and others, where nobles carried titles passed down from their ancestors, and similar tales were often told about them.
Some families even added different titles before their names to signify their noble lineage compared to others.
But the truth everyone knew was that many of those stories were probably fabricated, woven over generations to bestow false grandeur upon the titles.
"Of course, everyone knows that many lies were built to glorify these titles. But does it really matter now? No one cares about the truth, as long as it serves their interests."
Of course, no one dared to expose the truth about the other. In the world of nobles, no one tells the complete truth, and everyone understands that the unspoken agreement is that any lie is acceptable as long as it fits the agreed-upon narrative.
While reflecting on this subject, Arthur thought of some knowledge he had heard of before and now understood better.
In the Middle Ages, castles were considered vital centers that combined defensive, administrative, and living functions.
"Nirva Castle" was an example of this, as it was built atop a mountainous peak, surrounded by rocky cliffs and deep valleys, making access to it a challenge even for the largest of armies.
The castle consists of five floors, each connected by wide stone stairs that spiral around a central column. The fifth floor is reserved for the bedroom of Arthur's father and his study, and access to it is strictly prohibited.
The fourth floor is designated for the rest of the family, while the third floor contains the reception halls and dining rooms.
The second floor houses guest rooms and servants' quarters, while the ground floor contains the guards' quarters and slave areas. Beneath the ground, there are wine cellars and prisons.
The exterior walls of the castle are equipped with towers for archers, with vertical slits used to shoot arrows at enemies, providing effective protection for the defenders.
This defensive design was common in medieval castles, where the towers were typically built from stone and featured slits for archers.
Arthur approached the edge of the stone wall, gently tapping the old protrusions, while the cold breeze from the deep valleys swept in, carrying the scent of wild moss and the ashes of the guards' torches. She stood silently, lost in her thoughts.
At the edge of the tower, Arthur stood with his eyes closed, inhaling the cold mountain breeze.
The kingdom was embroiled in a constant struggle over land and resources, where castles were considered the fortresses that determined the fate of noble families.
Castles were not just luxurious homes for nobles; they were strategic fortifications surrounded by high walls and advanced defensive systems.
For the children of Viscount Rossun, like Arthur, their lives were always burdened by the ambitions of the family and the internal conflicts that threatened them at any moment.
In the southwestern regions near the central areas of the kingdom, where the Al Werner estate of the high nobility was located, castles were considered the cornerstone of protecting the kingdom.
These castles were part of a massive defense system aimed at securing the borders from invaders and external threats.
In this world, military power outweighed everything else; luxury and comfort were not priorities within these castles.
Life was measured by the efficiency of the soldiers and their constant readiness for the endless wars.
The soldiers of Werner Castle were not just conscripted farmers; they were highly trained soldiers, qualified to face any threat.
These soldiers were considered personal guards who knew nothing but absolute loyalty to their families and lands.
They were prepared to sacrifice their lives to protect the castle and the family they served.
Finally, after reaching the location and entering the grand hall on the third floor of the castle, Arthur looked around at the walls adorned with massive swords and shields bearing the emblem of the Werner family: a gray horse on a dark background, symbolizing strength and loyalty.
This hall was not just a place for meetings, but also a reflection of the family's history and their esteemed position in society.
The enormous sword hanging on the walls gleamed with vibrant colors, its brilliance reflecting unmatched power and prestige.
On the wall, the shield bore the gray horse on a dark background, the emblem of the Werner family, a family known for its distinguished history of controlling the rugged mountain lands, where their castle, "Nirva Castle," was considered an impregnable fortress against any invasion.
The gray horse with the dark background represented loyalty.
Under the family banner, they gathered around the grand table in the majestic hall, where the scent of delicious food mingled with the glow of warm torches, giving the space an atmosphere of luxury and warmth.
The lavish table was filled with a variety of dishes prepared by the skilled maids, from marinated grilled meats seasoned with rare herbs, to fresh vegetables covered in rich sauces, and warm loaves of bread emanating the scent of melted butter.
The scene resembled a royal feast befitting the noble status of the family.