The Head Judge looked at the Emperor, who gave a slow, expectant nod. The Judge raised his heavy wooden mallet high into the air.

"Since the Grand Duke Alaric Lucien Blackspire cannot provide evidence of the victim’s safety, nor a credible witness to his condition," the Judge announced, his voice booming with finality, "this court finds the charges of kidnapping and high—"

The Marquis leaned forward, a look of pure, intoxicating triumph on his face. He was seconds away from seeing the North’s greatest lion put in chains.

The mallet began its descent, but then...

CRASH.

The massive doors at the end of the hall opened with a heavy force, hitting the stone walls with a force that sounded like a cannon blast.

The sound echoed through the rafters, cutting the Judge’s sentence short.

"Wait!"

The voice wasn’t a scream. It was a clear, steady command that cut through the stifling heat of the courtroom like a blade of ice.

Every head in the hall snapped toward the entrance. Standing in the frame of the doorway, bathed in the blinding white light of the midday sun, was a slender figure. He wasn’t being carried. He wasn’t leaning on a cane. He stood perfectly upright on his own two feet, dressed in the formal silks of a Royal Tutor.

The Marquis’s jaw dropped. The handkerchief he had been using to fake his tears fluttered to the marble floor, forgotten.

Julian stepped forward into the hall, the rhythmic thud-clack of his crutches echoing against the silent marble. Though supported by the wooden frames, he stood with a spine as straight as a spear. The ’Deep Recovery’ glow had left his skin with a faint, ethereal luster, making him look less like a dying patient and more like a spirit returned from the beyond. His mismatched eyes—one sharp, one soft—focused directly on the Marquis, who had turned a ghastly shade of grey.

"I believe," Julian said, his voice ringing clearly through the stunned silence, "there was a request for a witness?"

The Marquis’s jaw hung open. His heart hammered against his ribs in a frantic, uneven rhythm. How? His mind shrieked. He... He’s supposed to be dead! He’s not supposed to be able to walk. How is he here?

Julian caught the Duke’s eyes, and then a small smile made its way to his lips.

I wasn’t too late, right... Lucien?

The Duke saw that smile, and as if he read Julian’s mind, he shook his head.

No, you weren’t late. You made it just in time, Julian.

How was it that Julian was here, though? When did he wake up?

About a few minutes back, Julian found himself floating.

There was no pain, no weight of a broken body, no smell of antiseptic, and no sound of Duke Alaric’s desperate voice. Nothing to worry about in the slightest.

There was only a vast, thick darkness that felt warm and infinite.

In the center of this void, a melody began to play. It was soft—a gentle, acoustic tone that felt achingly familiar. It was the music Julian used to listen to in his past life, back when he was just a man who spent his peaceful weekends watering his flowers and getting lost in the pages of a well-worn book.

His only worry back then was how to get the naughty students who were smoking to quit smoking.

It was a life he wouldn’t have traded for anything, but that was then. Right now, he was sure he was living another life, so...

Where is it coming from? he wondered, drifting slowly toward the sound.

The music wasn’t just a memory; it was a tether. With every note, the darkness around him began to crack. He saw flashes of green—the stems of his hydrangeas. He smelled the scent of rain on dry earth.

He wished he could just float like this and not worry about anything. But then, a sharp, cold vibration cut through the melody.

> [DANGER SENSE: RANK F — ACTIVATED]

The system’s red text bled into his peaceful vision, shattering the dream of his old life.

> [WARNING: HOST’S ANCHOR IS UNDER ATTACK]

> Current Status: ’Lost in oblivion.’

> Probability of Execution: 87%

> Objective: Wake up

The warmth of the music turned into the heat of Alaric’s hand. Julian remembered the Duke’s blue eyes, the way he had looked at him like he was the only thing in the world that mattered. He remembered Lucius’s small hand clutching his own.

That... was the life he was living now.

I can’t stay here, Julian thought. If I don’t wake up, I feel I might lose something.

He reached out toward the red text, his fingers brushing against the cold interface, and as his hand phased through the window, he felt like he had grabbed onto reality, and his eyes snapped open.

The ceiling of his bed’s canopy came into view, and he sat up, his hand pressed to his face, when he realized there was no pain. He looked at his leg and saw the bandage had been removed.

Ah!

A strange, buzzing sensation of life that he hadn’t experienced in a while coursed through him as he threw the sheet aside and dropped his legs down. No pain, no ache, nothing.

He placed his legs down from the bed and stared at them for a while, as if scared that once he put his weight on them, the pain would come back all at once.

But he decided to brace that fear and finally stood up, stretching his hip first and foremost, something he hadn’t done in more than a week.

The height as he stood was just fine.

His eyes grew teary, and he brushed it off with the butt of his palm, feeling emotional.

It was great. This feeling.

But then he noticed the Duke wasn’t there, which was odd, since the Duke had been by his side for all the moments he opened his eyes.

Just as he was wondering this, the door opened, and he quickly turned around, thinking it was the Duke, but it was Lucius walking in with a notebook. As soon as he saw Julian standing, he rushed to his side and was about to throw himself on him in excitement, but paused, worried that something might still be wrong with his tutor.

"It’s fine, Lucius," Julian said and spread his arms. "I am fine."

Lucius’s eyes went teary in an instant, and he hugged Julian. Julian hugged the child but then asked for the Duke. Lucius couldn’t respond and took him out to speak with the knights standing guard, and then he heard everything. Without wasting time, he got ready and rushed to the palace, picking up the crutches so he seemed believably ill, but there was no hiding the glow on his face.

And that was how Julian barged into the courthouse...