The rattling of carriage wheels echoed through the dimly lit underground tunnels beneath the imperial capital. Park Hyun—or rather, Aden Vasco sat in the corner of the prison transport, his hands still bound in enchanted cuffs. The metallic scent of rusted chains filled the carriage. The steady clanking of armored knights escorting the carriage only reminded him of the grim fate that awaited him.
As the carriage lurched forward, the flickering torches mounted on the walls outside cast eerie shadows on the faces of the knights, making them appear like specters of doom.
His mind raced.
How did this happen? One moment, he had been Park Hyun, just another guy living an ordinary life, and now he was here—trapped in the body of a condemned man. No explanation. No warning. Nothing.
He felt as if God was mocking him, toying with his life like a cruel puppeteer. The thought sent a shiver down his spine, and he clenched his fists, the enchanted cuffs biting into his wrists.
His thoughts swirled like a storm. Who did Aden Vasco kill? Why did he kill them? And more importantly, what was going to happen to him now?
A sudden memory flashed through his mind, and his head felt a rippling sensation, as if the very fabric of his reality was shifting.
A book.
"The Sword of Walpurgis." He had read that book during his long, unforgettable days in the hospital, devouring every word, every sentence, as if it were a lifeline to a world beyond his mundane existence.
In this unforgiving world, where the strong devoured the weak, five households stood as behemoths, their influence woven into the very fabric of the empire. The Tristans, with their elegant swordsmanship, were the whispered rumors of a silent assassin, their precision a cold, calculated dance of death. The Remes, masters of the arcane, were the puppeteers of fate, their magic a subtle yet ruthless force that could shatter the strongest of wills.
To the north, the Vlads stood as unyielding sentinels, their military might and vast landholdings a fortress of unyielding resolve, their name etched in the annals of history as the empire's unyielding defenders.
In the heart of the kingdom, the Venmonts nurtured the flames of knowledge, their academic and information networks a labyrinthine web of intrigue, while their Defense Fortress, an imposing monolith, stood as a testament to their unwavering commitment to the empire's security.
And then, there were the Vascos, their legacy forged in the very depths of the Great Demon War. This ancient household, with its coarse yet deadly sword techniques, had been the empire's sword and shield, its heroes the stuff of dark legend, their names whispered in awe and terror by the people.
His breath hitched. He had read that book during his long, unforgettable days in the hospital. It was a well written fantasy novel about a hero's rise to power, an epic tale of swordmasters, magic, and intrigue. The protagonist had cut through every obstacle in his path, defeating formidable enemies, surviving betrayals, and ultimately rising to become a legend.
But Aden Vasco…
Aden Vasco was never truly mentioned.
His name was nothing more than a passing reference in the story—a criminal who had been sentenced to death for murdering an heir of the Five Great Families. A footnote in history, a villain whose presence barely mattered in the grand scheme of things.
No wonder the name had felt familiar.
But this was a massive problem.
He had possessed the worst character at the worst possible time.
His pulse pounded against his skull, the rhythmic beating echoing the clanking of the carriage wheels. If things followed the book's story, he was as good as dead. Aden Vasco had no redemption arc, no hidden plot armor, no miraculous survival. The story never even mentioned his trial in detail. Just one sentence—one cold, merciless sentence:
'Aden Vasco, the murderer of a noble heir, was sentenced to death by the Emperor.'
Aden clenched his fists. 'No. No, no, no. This can't be happening.'
He had no idea why he had been brought here. He had no idea why he had possessed this body. But one thing was clear
If he did nothing, he would die.
He tried to control his breathing, forcing himself to think rationally. There had to be a way out of this mess. He still had time before his trial. He had to find some way to survive, to convince the Imperial Court that he was innocent. If he could just
"Hey, shut up with that murderous glare, you little bastard," one of the knights scoffed, breaking him out of his thoughts.
"Huh?" Park Hyun blinked. What murderous glare?
He wasn't even trying to intimidate anyone. If anything, he was trying to figure things out in peace.
"I swear, even in chains, he acts like he owns the world," another knight muttered.
What were they talking about?
Park Hyun hesitated, then tried to speak, "I think there's been a misunderstanding—"
But the moment he opened his mouth, the words that came out were not what he intended.
"Save your breath; you'll need it when I am free."
His eyes widened. 'Wait, what? That wasn't what I meant to say!'
The knight's expression darkened. "You little—"
Park Hyun frantically tried again. "No, I mean—"
"I don't have time to entertain fools."
'What the hell is happening?'
Every word he spoke twisted into something arrogant, something completely opposite of what he was trying to say. He tried to apologize, to explain, but everything came out as taunts and mockery.
The knights glared at him with barely concealed contempt.
"So that's why even the Duke abandoned you." One of them sneered. "No wonder you're a disgrace."
Park Hyun clenched his jaw. 'Shit.'
No matter what he tried to say, he was digging himself deeper.
The rest of the journey was spent in silence, the knights occasionally throwing him suspicious glances. He could do nothing but sit there, trying to process the absurdity of his situation. Not only had he possessed a villain doomed to die, but he also apparently had a cursed tongue that made him sound like the most arrogant person in existence.
By the time they arrived at the imperial prison, exhaustion weighed heavy on his shoulders.
The thick iron gates creaked open, revealing a vast underground prison built beneath the Imperial Palace itself. It was an impregnable fortress of stone and steel, guarded by elite knights who rarely interacted with the outside world. The moment the knights removed his restraints and pushed him toward his cell, he already knew—
This wasn't just a prison.
It was a place for those who were never meant to leave.
The knights escorted him out of the carriage, their armor glinting in the dim torchlight. The air inside the prison was heavy with the scent of mold, sweat, and despair.
As they led him deeper into the prison, the sounds of clanging steel, murmured conversations, and distant screams created a cacophony of chaos. Hyun's heart sank, his senses overwhelmed by the bleak atmosphere.
Inside his cell, a handful of other prisoners glanced at him but said nothing. Some looked like hardened criminals, others seemed too quiet, too wary. He took a seat in the corner, his body tense.
A knight stood outside his cell, his armor glinting in the dim torchlight.
"Your hearing with His Majesty and the Imperial Court is tomorrow." His voice was firm but devoid of hostility.
"I suggest you don't cause any more problems."
Aden Vasco—didn't respond. He simply leaned his head back against the cold stone wall, staring at the ceiling.
Tomorrow.
Tomorrow, he would stand before the Emperor.
And if the novel's story was anything to go by…
He was running out of time.