The loud sound of thunder jolted David awake. His head felt like it had been smashed with a hammer, His mouth felt strange, with a bitter taste like copper and ashes. It was unpleasant and unfamiliar.
He opened his eyes and tried to see in the dark room. He was confused. Instead of being in his normal bedroom with white walls, he saw stone walls with candles burning.
This wasn't his apartment. He didn't know where he was.
Where on earth am I?
David remembered bits of a car crash—lights shining through rain, tires screeching, and metal crashing—before everything went blank. As he sat up, the room spun, making him feel sick.
His pale hands felt strange and gripped the cold stone floor for balance.
He called out, "Hello? Is anyone here?" but his voice was hoarse and sounded different.
Silence was his only reply.
The air was thick with a metallic smell and something sweetly foul, like when a mouse had died in his wall. The room was filled with old books on wooden shelves.
A workbench was cluttered with colorful liquids in glass bottles. An open book on the table had small writing and drawings of the human body.
This place clearly belonged to someone else—someone who dealt with things best left alone.
Last thing I remember... driving home from work. Just another day of spreadsheets and meetings. Rain-slicked roads. And then—
He stopped thinking as he saw a broken mirror nearby. He walked towards it slowly, feeling a sense of fear growing inside him.
The reflection staring back wasn't his own.
David's reflection revealed red eyes—not just irritated, but glowing crimson—on a thin face framed by sleek black hair falling past sharp cheekbones.
He instinctively touched his face, and the figure in the mirror mimicked his every move perfectly
"No," he muttered, taking a step back. "This can't be real."
But he recognized that face. It was Raven Blackwood—a character from The Bloodseeker's Path, a fantasy novel he'd been into before the crash.
Raven wasn't a hero; he was the villain's apprentice, a disturbed genius obsessed with dark magic.
A character doomed to die by chapter twelve(12).
David's legs gave out, and he fell to the floor. "I must be dreaming," he muttered. "Or seeing things. People don't wake up in fake worlds with bodies that aren't their own."
Suddenly, a transparent blue screen popped up in front of him, floating in the air:
```
System Alert: Welcome to the Aethonian Realm!
- Level: 1
- Class: Failed Experiment
- Title: Blood Seeker
- Experience Points: 0/100
```
He swiped his hand through it, but the notification stayed put, tracking his movements. So, not a hallucination after all. Great.
"A game," he whispered. "I'm stuck in some kind of... living game."
His gaze swept across the lab, now seeing things differently. In the book, Raven had been into Bloodcraft—magic powered by blood sacrifices.
The empire had banned that stuff ages ago for a good reason.
A knot formed in David's stomach as he spotted three large stone chests against the wall, each sealed with black wax and covered in intricate symbols that seemed to shift if he stared too long.
He had a nasty feeling he knew what—or who—was inside.
Finally getting to his feet, he made his way to the nearest chest, feeling drawn by a grim certainty. The lid was heavy and required all his strength to open. Once it cracked, an awful smell flooded out, and his eyes started to water.
Inside was a body—a young guy, his skin looking all gray and waxy, dressed in the tattered remains of some work clothes. There were faint marks on his wrists that hinted at being restrained. You could see neat surgical cuts across his chest, all stitched up nicely.
David slammed the lid down hard and stumbled over to a bucket in the corner, heaving until all he could bring up was bitter bile. Once he stood up straight, wiping his mouth with his hand, he felt... different—lighter. It was like emptying his stomach had also cleared something else out.
"I'm not him," David said firmly. "I might be in his body, but I'm not Raven Blackwood."
He spotted a water pitcher on the workbench and rinsed his mouth out. The lukewarm water tasted mineral-y and had a strange metallic hint. After he splashed his face, the cold water jolted his mind awake.
Think. What would Lucien Wealth do?Lucien, the hero of the book, was clever and practical. He'd made it through tougher situations thanks to some careful planning.
David focused, trying to clear his mind.
"Status."
A detailed display popped up:
```
- Health: 50/50
- Mana: 30/30
- Strength: 5
- Agility: 7
- Intelligence: 6
- Skill Mastery:
- Bloodcraft: Unlearned
- Basic Combat: Unlearned
```
So, Raven hadn't picked up Bloodcraft yet, which fit with the book's timeline—he'd just been on the verge of a breakthrough when Lucien met him for the first time.
That means I'm early in the story. There's still a chance to change things.
David started combing through the lab, looking at scrolls and journals for anything that could help him stay alive. On the workbench, partly covered by a mess of papers, he saw a scroll that seemed to glow with a faint red light.
As soon as he touched it, warmth shot up his arm, and something stirred inside him—a craving, a desire. It felt strange but somehow familiar, like his borrowed body was recognizing something his mind hadn't caught on to yet.
```
System Notification: Bloodcraft Technique Discovered!
Skill Level: 0/100 (Current Mastery: Unlearned)
```
With shaking hands, he unfurled the scroll and found he could actually read the fancy script. It explained how to tap into the power of blood—human blood—to bend reality. Each technique required a sacrifice, with bigger effects demanding more significant offerings.
His first thought was to just destroy it. Bloodcraft was straight-up bad news, used by the Villains in the book to harm innocent people. But for some reason, he hesitated.
Knowledge isn't inherently evil—it's all about how it's used. And if he was stuck in this world as Raven, he could use every bit of help he could get.
So instead of trashing the scroll, David carefully rolled it back up and tucked it into a pocket of his black robe.
He figured he'd keep it safe and only pull it out if he really had no other choice, and never in a way that would hurt anyone innocent.
As he continued searching, he found a silver emblem hidden under some books. It had an eye in the center with the words "Ternio Custos" around it.
"The Third Guard," he said quietly as it hit him. In the book, they were this secretive group that pulled the strings from behind the scenes. Later on, it turned out they had been using Raven to steer his research for their own purposes.
Suddenly, the lab felt like a trap. If The Third Guard was involved, trouble would follow pretty quickly. Time to get out.
David hurriedly grabbed the essentials: a small dagger off the workbench, a pouch of coins he found in a drawer, and an old travel cloak hanging by the door.
He snuffed out most of the candles, leaving one lit so he could find his way back.
The door creaked as he opened it, the noise way too loud in the quiet. A cool breeze rushed in, fresh and clean compared to the lab's smell. It was a three-quarter moon lighting up a clearing surrounded by thick trees.
David paused in the doorway, listening closely. The night was alive with the buzzing of insects and the distant call of an owl. No human chatter, no footsteps, no immediate threats.
He stepped outside, pulling his cloak tighter around him. The ground felt solid under his boots, crunching gravel with every step. Stars twinkled above him in patterns he didn't recognize, a reminder of just how far from home he was.
Then, the sound of a twig snapping made him freeze.
"Don't move." The voice came from behind him, along with the unmistakable sound of a sword being drawn. "Hands where I can see them, slowly."
David raised his hands, heart racing. In the book, Imperial soldiers were always out there, hunting down anyone practicing forbidden magic.
He turned slowly, trying to be careful. The soldier standing in front of him wore leather armor reinforced with metal, the imperial crest right on his chest. His sword sparkled in the moonlight, steady and pointed.
"Identify yourself," the soldier ordered, eyes narrowed with suspicion.
David gulped. "My name is..." He hesitated. Saying he was Raven would be a huge mistake, but he had no other identity here. "David. I'm just a traveler. I got lost in the woods and stumbled upon this place."
The soldier glanced toward the lab. "That building is off-limits by imperial order. Going in there is a serious crime."
"I didn't know," David said, letting fear seep into his voice—easy to do in this situation. "The door was open. I just needed a place to crash for the night."
The soldier stepped closer, studying David's face. His eyes widened slightly at the sight of David's crimson irises. "You're coming with me for questioning," he said firmly. "Something about you isn't right."
David's heart raced. Being taken in meant possible imprisonment or worse. They would eventually identify him as Raven. "Please," he pleaded again, "I'm just—"
"Shut it!" The soldier pulled out his sword completely. "Get on your knees, hands on your head. Now."
Time felt like it was dragging. David knew what happened to suspected forbidden art users in imperial custody—torture followed by public execution. He couldn't let that be his fate.