Chapter 2: Lord Oakwood.

Chapter 2: Chapter 2: Lord Oakwood.

[Welcome back, Scoundrel of YGGDRASIL]

Allan was back on his bed, feeling silk on his skin.

He stayed still for a while. The room smelled sweet and thick with jasmine. He stared up at the four-poster bed. The dark wood posts were carved into latticework he had seen a hundred times before.

Bright sunlight poured through the tall glass windows to his left and spilled across the polished floor of Lord Oakwood’s chamber.

Outside those windows stretched a sea of white stone. Ivy gardens wound between tall spires. Down below, a market was already in full swing. The smell of fresh bread drifted up on the breeze.

He knew this room. He knew this city. He knew this world.

"All those words, all of them were true?" he muttered. "I really transmigrated into Yggdrasil?"

He sat up. A strand of nearly black hair lay on the pillow next to him. He looked to his right. The bed was neatly made on one side, but two women slept on the other.

He didn’t know who or what they were, but even so, his face stayed calm while something cold ran through him.

Wait... if this is Yggdrasil, surely my stats...

He opened the Status Window. A blue screen floated in front of his eyes.

[STATUS]

Name: Allan

Class: Investment

Level: 1

STR: 4

AGI: 5

VIT: 6

INT: 9

WILL: 7

Skills: Basic Appraisal, Resource Channeling

Level one.

He opened the Inventory next and blinked hard. Empty. Completely empty.

Ten years as an SSS-grade Investment player, and every weapon, every piece of Golden Dragon Armor, every special artifact, every potion, every scroll, every crafting material, gone.

Nothing left. He was back at the starting line with nothing but the clothes on his back.

"Ten years," he said under his breath, "and I’m level one again. No gear. No potions. Nothing."

He stood and walked out onto the balcony again. The market below was loud. Roasting meat mixed with the smell of bread. On the rooftops of the buildings around the square, a couple of birds perched. Their feathers shifted color every time they moved, like living paint.

Wait, I might be dreaming.

He dug his thumbnail hard into the fleshy part of his palm. Sharp pain shot up his arm as a red crescent mark remained.

"...I’m not dreaming."

A soft breeze came through the open door and prickled the bare skin of his arm.

Something rustled behind him.

Allan turned.

The woman with the dark hair was sitting up, large brown eyes fixed on him with clear worry. No floating name tag, it seemed. No scripted lines, right off the bat.

Just a real person looking concerned.

"Master..." she said. "Are you alright?"

His heartbeat skipped.

"Master?"

He stared at her as she tilted her head, still watching him. "Master... are you alright? Master?"

"Ye... yeah. I’m alright. Do you... know who I am?"

She looked confused for a second, then her face cleared. "Of course. You are Lord Allan Oakwood."

Oakwood?... Oakwood, oh! I see...

That settled it. He knew exactly where, and who, he was. He opened Appraisal on her.

[APPRAISAL]

Name: Lira

Current Class: None

Potential: Low-Average

Talents: Minor Water Affinity, Common Housekeeping Skills

Fate: ???

Hidden Talent: SSS Moonlight Sorcery

Future Fate: Abyssal Witch Queen

His eyes went wide.

Abyssal Witch Queen.

The final dungeon boss of the main storyline. The one who made even the best end-game parties sweat for hours.

Defenses like a brick wall. A name that still made veterans flinch years later. And here she was, sitting on his bed, with no class, just a simple servant.

He closed the window and kept his voice steady.

"Oh. Lira."

"Yes, Master?"

"How long has it been since my father passed away?"

Her eyes drifted away for a moment, then came back. "Three years, Master. Since the previous Lord passed away."

Three years. The old lord had been gone three years.

Allan glanced at the other woman still asleep in the bed. He opened Appraisal on her too.

[APPRAISAL]

Name: Seris

Current Class: None

Potential: Low-Average

Talents: Minor Wind Affinity, Exceptional Agility

Fate: ???

Hidden Talent: SS Blade Dance of the Silent Gale

Future Fate: Phantom Blade of the Eastern Marches

Another one.

The Phantom Blade of the Eastern Marches. Legendary assassin. Story bosses didn’t get more infamous than her. Parties wiped on her defenses all the time. And she was right here, same bed, same no-class situation.

Two future bosses. Both tied to the Oakwood house, if the old rumors were right. He just couldn’t remember when they were supposed to awaken.

Lira was still watching him, staring, maybe slightly confused. So he decided to test something.

"Did you feel something strange or unsettling when you first saw me this morning?"

She blinked. "I’m sorry, Master?"

"Did you feel..." He shook his head. "You know what, never mind."

He looked at Seris, who had started to stir. "How about you, Seris? Did you feel anything strange being in this room with me?"

Seris sat up slowly, quiet for a few seconds. "I feel something," she said at last.

"Oh! What do you feel?"

"Something... about you."

Allan narrowed his eyes. "Me?! What about me?"

"...Uncomfortable?" The word came out as though she didn’t want to say it.

He opened Appraisal on her again.

[APPRAISAL]

Name: Seris

Current Class: None

Potential: Low-Average

Talents: Minor Wind Affinity, Exceptional Agility

Hidden Talent: ???

Future Fate: ???

Empty fields. Something had changed.

He closed the window.

"Not the words I was expecting, but understood," he said. "Lira, would you be so kind as to bring me some of that fruit over there?" He pointed at the silver platter on the sideboard.

"Of course, Master." She stood right away and crossed the room.

Allan turned back to the balcony and spoke under his breath.

"Hmmmm, let me get this straight, the world is real. The people in it are real. And fate is real too."

He already knew that, but he felt like he needed to keep telling himself so. Keep himself grounded.

That means only one life. No respawn.

He turned around and looked at the breakfast table, then at the two women.

[CLASS: INVESTMENT]

"Let’s see," he muttered, closing his fist as though he were grabbing a folder that wasn’t there. "How much can I convince this world to owe me?"

First things first. He checked his account. What mattered first for low levels like him was...

MONEY!

The numbers were all red.

He was broke.

Allan let out a short laugh and dropped into the chair by the table. Lira set the fruit platter down carefully. Seris watched him without saying much, still looking a little uneasy.

"Master," Lira said, "should I prepare the bath? Or would you prefer breakfast first?"

"Breakfast," Allan said. "And while we’re at it, talk to me. Both of you. I want to hear how the house has been running these three years."

Lira glanced at Seris, then back at him. "Of course, Master.

The house... it has been difficult. After the previous Lord passed, the debts started to show.

The merchants who used to give us credit stopped. The fields on the eastern side haven’t produced well the last two seasons. We’ve had to let some of the staff go. Only a few of us remain."

"How few?"

"Myself, Seris, the cook, two stable hands, and the old gardener. That’s all."

Allan nodded slowly and picked up a piece of fruit. It tasted real. Sweet, a little tart, juice running down his fingers. He wiped it on a napkin and kept listening.

Seris spoke up, quieter than Lira. "The city guard has been asking questions. About taxes. About why the Oakwood crest still flies if the coffers are empty. Some of the lesser nobles have been... circling."

"Circling how?"

"Offers to buy the house. Or marry into it. Or take over the remaining land ’for the good of the city.’ One of them came last month.

Lord Emberwind. He smiled a lot and talked about ’helping the young lord manage his inheritance.’"

Allan chewed another piece of fruit. "And what did you tell him?"

"We told him the young lord was not receiving visitors," Lira said. "He left, but I think he will come back."

"He will," Allan agreed. "People like that always do."

He leaned back in the chair and looked at both of them. Two future nightmares of the late game, currently house servants in a broke noble house. Fate had a sense of humor.

"Lira. Seris. From now on, if anyone asks about the state of the house, tell them the young lord is reviewing the accounts and will address matters in due time. No more, no less. Are we clear?"

"Yes, Master," Lira said.

Seris gave a small nod. "Understood."

He smiled to himself.

"Alright," he said out loud. "First we stop the bleeding. Then we start collecting favors. Then we see just how much this world is willing to pay back."

Lira tilted her head. "Master?"

"Nothing. Just thinking out loud. Bring me the account books after breakfast. All of them. Even the ones the old steward tried to hide."

"There are... quite a few, Master."

"Good. I like reading."

Seris watched him with that same cautious look. "You seem different today, Master."

Allan turned and met her eyes. "Do I?"

"Yes."

"Hmmm... then keep watching. It’s going to get more interesting from here on out."

He sat back down, poured himself a cup of whatever was in the pitcher, tea, maybe, or watered wine and started eating properly.

Allan raised his cup toward the two women like a toast.

"To new beginnings," he said. "I promise, I will rise once more and be titled a God once more...cheers."

Lira smiled, a little uncertain. Seris just watched.

"Ch... cheers." Both of them replied.