After realizing how deep of a trouble he was in, he started to panic. One he didn't have any fore knowledge of this world and the knowledge he had was the memory of the previous zephyr which was little due to the fact that at age five he was yanked out of his comfort zone and thrown into a torture chamber in guise of a training facility.
'This body is too weak, in other novels and movies I have watched the transmigrator usually find a cheat and escape from his dire condition, but barely know anything about this world they is no cheat to take advantage of'. His brain started to go overdrive. 'My only option is to team up with the rest of the transmigrators, but how will I identify them! Or I will stick with the protagonist I think is name was Seth right Seth. But where would I meet him, now that a problem'.
He haven't read the novel so he doesn't know the protangonist, all he knew about him was his name, but their could be lots of people with the same name. 'Wait I think I heard those people on the bus talking about an academy of some sort, if I can get to the academy then I can search for the protangonist from they'. He started to form a plan but he had one issue. 'How will I get into the academy I don't have Aether'. He started to think furiously about his predicament, he completely forgot about the maid, only when did she call out to him did he remember that they was someone else in the room with him.
"My lord, are you fine now". She asked timidly, afraid of his reaction as this was a sour topic.
"Y-yes am fine". Absentmindedly.
His stomach let out a loud growl.
The silence afterward was excruciating.
The maid bowed slightly to hide her smile. "Would you like to dine now, young master?"
"Yes," he said, raising up from the bed. "Lead me to the dining room."
The maid's posture stiffened for a moment.
She turned to glance at him, her expression carefully neutral, but the brief flicker of surprise didn't go unnoticed. "Understood, young master. This way, please."
As she walked, he trailed a step behind, brow furrowed in thought. Why was she surprised? All he said was that he wanted to eat. Was that so strange?
Then another memory resurfaced.
This body… had never once joined the others at the family dining table for the past few years.
Never. Not once.
How could he, when he was busy trying to crawl out of the pit despite not succeeding, in the pit, beasts were everywhere so he could hunt and eat, but how could a Aetherless young boy hunt one talk less of cooking it, so ever since he had been surviving on rats, until he was brave or mad enough to hunt a beast for food. The only time he ever ate normal food was when he could climb up from the pit, his maid would be nearby and sneak him some food. That was the only way he could eat something of a semblance to a normal food.
The realization made him pause for a beat.
But he quickly caught up, keeping his expression unreadable. Looking at the maid in front of him, he became thankful and grateful to her. She always stood at the pit waiting for him to come out either to give him food or to clean his wounds. He was genuinely touched.
He glanced around as they descended a grand spiral stair, the hallways growing wider and brighter with elegant carvings and portraits. The castle was high and gleaming—not stone and grim like fairy tales, but regal, like something out of a fantasy novel's noble estate. The floors were polished obsidian; the walls etched with magical glyphs that shimmered faintly when passed. This wasn't just some old fortress—it was alive with history and power.
Finally, they arrived at two large doors—tall and engraved with the black-flame emblem of the Demios clan.
Two guards flanked either side. When they saw him, they stiffened in surprise, then bowed in unison. "Young master."
The maid opened the doors with a practiced grace.
As he stepped through the ornate double doors into the grand dining hall.
As the heavy doors swung open, the murmurs within the grand dining hall came to a halt.
Six sets of eyes turned toward him.
Zephyr's boots tapped softly against the polished obsidian floor as he stepped inside, posture straight, face unreadable. His coat flowed behind him like a shadow stitched from royalty and resentment. And still—he felt their stares.
His steps slowed briefly as he took in the hall. The ceilings arched high with chandeliers of aether-glass casting cool glows of blue and red flame. Portraits of past clan heads loomed over the walls like silent judges. The long black table, etched with curling infernal runes, stretched nearly the length of the hall.