Asher calmly walked back to his room, hands behind his back, shoulders loose.
Every maid he passed flinched, glancing at him from the corners of their eyes like he was some ticking bomb.
'Guess they really think I'm some kind of spoiled monster.'
He was amused.
Spoiled? Maybe. Neglected? Absolutely.
He wasn't offended, though. He barely knew these people.
Once inside his room, he shut the door with a soft click and leaned back against it for a second, eyes staring at the ceiling.
"...Still no system, huh?"
Instead of flipping out like your usual protagonist, Asher started breaking down the situation.
Step one, establish the obvious: No system yet.
Step two, establish the other obvious: No obvious starting quest or guide.
Step three, establish the third obvious: He hadn't died yet or been attacked.
Step four, finally switch things up and stop repeating the word obvious: Maybe... maybe there was a prerequisite? Something he had to do first?
It made sense. Why else would a system stay silent? Maybe this body had to achieve a certain state first—mentally, physically, socially—who knew?
Nodding to himself, he pushed the thought aside for now and turned to the problem at hand:
Packing.
He quickly found a rucksack shoved under the bed—a lucky break and stuffed it with everything he could find that seemed remotely useful:
A few shirts and pants, rough and plain, but durable.
A simple but heavy coat—thick enough for travel.
A few pairs of boots, barely worn.
A small pouch of copper coins—lucky find number two.
A plain knife—more utility tool than a weapon.
A flint and steel set for fires.
A single thin book titled "Basic Herbs and Potions."
His past self was somewhat of an engineer, too, though a chemical one.
He kind of hated those types, always so obnoxious, never a shred of humility with them... anyways, he had also found some dried jerky from a wooden box under his bed.
Asher also raided the bathroom, grabbing:
A weird wooden toothbrush.
A block of rough soap.
A tiny, battered comb.
Some kind of herbal deodorant stick that smelled... acceptable.
A small rag he figured could double as a towel.
"Just 'cause I'm stuck in a medieval dump doesn't mean I'm gonna walk around smelling like ass."
He explained himself to no one in particular, stuffing it all in.
After packing, Asher sat down on the bed, arms crossed, tapping his foot rhythmically.
He was already thinking ahead.
Tonight was going to be a big night—he'd test his theory about the system and start moving forward. He already had a few leads... But first, he had to survive the afternoon circus, and what a circus he knew it'd be.
...
Time skipped forward, and a knock rapped at his door.
The same maid from earlier stood there, eyes downcast.
"Master Asher... they're waiting."
"Yeah, yeah."
He lazily stood up from the bed and followed her down the halls.
When they reached the meeting hall—a giant room with a fireplace big enough to roast a cow in—he immediately caught a shift in the atmosphere.
As the young ones said on his home planet, he got bad vibes... whatever that meant.
A heavyset man with a trimmed gold beard scowled the second Asher entered.
Next to him was a girl, maybe fifteen or sixteen, clutching her hands together like she was waiting for judgment day.
She looked stunned the moment she saw Asher. Not horrified—more like relieved.
'Guess she thought I'd be some deformed troll.'
Asher ignored the looks he was getting and walked straight to the long table, plopping down beside his father without even greeting him.
The guest Baron sneered.
"He is as mannerless as you claimed. Though a bastard, I pity my daughter."
At that, Asher didn't even blink. Instead, he turned his eyes to the girl, studying her quietly.
She had dirty blonde hair braided over one shoulder, and big brown eyes that didn't match her father's icy blue ones. Her face was cute enough—soft features, small mouth—but not the kind that would start wars.
Solid seven out of ten, if he was feeling generous.
He could work with that... if he cared.
His father's stare burned into the side of his face.
"Boy. Introduce yourself. You at least owe your fiancée that."
Asher actually agreed. Yeah, the poor girl deserved that much.
Standing up, he put on his best mock-serious face.
"I'm Asher. The family disappointment. Spoiled brat. Useless lump. Deadweight. Local disgrace. Future cautionary tale."
He rattled it off so smoothly, it almost sounded like a sales pitch.
"And apparently... your lucky fiancé."
He extended his hand to the stunned girl.
She blinked once, twice, then shyly reached out.
The moment she touched his hand, Asher gently pulled her up to her feet.
The guest Baron looked like he was about to burst a vein.
"What the hell are you doing, boy?!"
Asher ignored him completely, leading the girl toward the big oak doors at the end of the hall. He didn't even spare his guards a glance.
Perhaps as an offense, one stepped forward, clearly intending to block his way—until Asher's voice rang out, unusually cold:
"I'm taking my fiancée for a walk. You dare stop me?"
The guard hesitated.
Behind them, Asher heard a grunt—probably his father—and the guard stepped aside.
Asher nodded slightly to the girl and let go of her hand, walking ahead of her.
She followed, looking at him like he'd just pulled her out of a burning building.
When they got a fair distance away, he finally spoke:
"We're not getting married."
The poor girl stumbled in her steps, almost tripping over her own feet.
"W-Wha—?"
Before she could string two words together, Asher raised a hand.
"Tonight, I'm leaving. I'm ditching the family name, yes, THE Valescar name, the one barony that's blessed enough to be the western Empire's pet dog. I'm ditching the manor, ditching all of it."
He turned to look her in the eyes.
"No offense. You're beautiful. You just had the bad luck of meeting me today."
Her cheeks turned bright red, lips parting slightly.
She looked like she had about seventeen different questions—but again, Asher didn't give her the chance.
"Goodbye."
And without another word... he left.
He left her standing there, stunned like a duck hit by a brick, as he headed off to plan his real future.