As an orphan, Levi had wished for parents once. His early life had him out on the streets, every day an effort just to survive. As he grew older, he gradually forgot that wish, but as he stood before his father in a new world, he found himself remembering it once more.

  But…

  “Levi Ironwood,” said Lord Archibald Henry Ironwood, “You are a disappointment to the Ironwood name and a blight upon our family’s legacy.”

  His new father kinda fucking sucked, huh?

  They were in his father’s office, a large room lined with heavy oak and polished quartz. Off to the left, bookshelves stretched from floor to ceiling, filled to the brim with leather-bound tomes. Light streamed in from the window behind the mahogany desk, casting his father’s figure in an imposing silhouette.

  “Were you any younger, I would disown you here and now,” Lord Ironwood continued matter-of-factly. “Unfortunately, we have invested far too much time and resources in your upbringing for it to be wasted like that. The sentiment still stands, however.”

  Huh. Well. That was something.

  To be fair, he didn't have the full story yet. He didn’t know what the previous Levi had done. Maybe this level of contempt was deserved. Maybe the old Levi had been a cruel delinquent, or violent criminal, or worse. His eyes flickered to the side to where his little sister stood. For some reason, he wasn’t surprised to see her looking to be in total agreement with their father’s words, though in her case, he didn’t really blame her. She was just a child, after all. Besides, she sorta had a reason to be mad at him.

  Her name was Ayla, as it turned out.

  Lord Ironwood was a tall man, well-built and exuding authority in waves. Though he remained seated in a high-backed leather chair, it still felt as though he was looming over Levi, looking down at him with cold, dark eyes. “Well?” he said. “Have you nothing to say for yourself?”

  There were many things Levi wanted to say, but none of them were exactly civil. Thankfully, he had at least some self-restraint. He was mature enough to know when to take the diplomatic route.

  And such, he inclined his head. “My apologies,” he said politely. “I’m sorry you feel that way.”

  Lord Ironwood narrowed his eyes. “Never have I been so ashamed when I received that letter from the Institute. For generations, the firstborn sons of the Ironwood line have been renowned for our skill, drive, and character. It were these attributes, passed down from father to son for centuries, that earned us the title of Marquis and the favor of the King himself. So tell me, how exactly did not one or two but all three attributes pass over you?”

  “Most unfortunate, indeed,” Levi agreed.

  Internally, he was filing away all the new information. He was slowly building a framework for his understanding of the world and his place within it, and thus far, things weren’t exactly looking optimistic.

  His new surname was Ironwood, for heaven’s sake…

  “Is this your way of rebelling after I disinherited you as heir last year?” Lord Ironwood asked. “Is that it? Surely you must understand that Ayla would make an infinitely better successor than you. Or were you just this debased from the start?” He gestured down at the letter in question, laid flat on the desk. “Bad enough you’ve already been held back twice and are failing over half your classes in your final year, but to attempt to cheat the time-honored Ascension Trials?! Have you no sense of propriety, of honor?!”

  Oh, so that was what’d happened? Huh, that was pretty disgraceful, actually. Not the cheating part, but getting caught.

  “Well,” Levi said, “If you’re not cheating, you’re not trying” – Lord Ironwood’s gaze darkened – ”is what I would say were I a mere commoner,” he amended, “but of course, as a son of the noble Ironwood bloodline, I should know better. You are right, Father – I apologize deeply for my actions. I don’t know what I was thinking, but I will strive to do everything in my power to make things right.”

  Lord Ironwood grunted but clearly didn’t believe him. “Right. I have half a mind to disown you here and now, but as it stands, that might only worsen the family’s reputation. As such, loathe as I am to say it, I am willing to give you one more chance.”

  “Please, sir, I want some more.”

  He might’ve been a little too over the top with that one, because Lord Ironwood shot him a withering glare. “Are you being sarcastic with me?”

  Levi widened his eyes. “What? Of course not. I am grateful for this opportunity.” He bowed his head. “Thank you, Father, for offering me the chance to prove myself when I least deserve it. I won’t let you down.”

  If he had been an actual teenager, he might’ve been affected by Lord Ironwood’s withering words. But as it was, Levi was nearly mentally thirty years old, so he weathered Lord Ironwood’s diatribe with the resigned stoicism of someone who’d been chewed out by his former boss on more than one count.

  And truthfully? His former boss had been a lot scarier.

  He could feel Lord Ironwood’s intense stare boring a hole through him. After several moments, Lord Ironwood shook his head and muttered something under his breath. “Don’t worry, I’ve taken steps to ensure you won’t. It took a considerable amount of effort on my part, but House Volkov has agreed to let their daughter serve as your partner in the Ascension Trials.”

  “What?!” This time, it was Ayla who blurted out in shock. “Father, you can’t!”

  Lord Ironwood merely looked at her. She froze. “I can’t?” he asked, his voice quiet but with an edge to it.

  Ayla cleared her throat, looking down. “Forgive my interruption,” she said in a much more measured tone. “I only mean to say that such an arrangement would be unwise. Anyone watching would immediately see that Levi succeeded only by clinging to her coattails. He would be a laughingstock.”

  Lord Ironwood sighed and rubbed his face with his hand. “What choice do I have? He’s facing expulsion as it stands. Better he pass a laughingstock than be expelled a failure.” He then pinned Levi with another glare. “You will behave,” he said. “House Volkov is doing us an immense favor by having their daughter partner with you. If you make any untoward moves, if you step out of line in any way, then I will disown you myself.”

  Levi nodded. “I understand. I’ll try my best.”

  “Don’t try. Do.” Lord Ironwood let out another sigh. “Enough of this. You are dismissed.”

  The moment the solid double doors shut behind them, Ayla whirled onto Levi with a fierce glare on her face.

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  “Are you out of your mind?!” she hissed. “It’s one thing to make inane jokes to me, but to talk to Father like that?”

  Levi blinked. “Did I do something wrong? I meant every word I said in there.”

  “Don’t play innocent with me,” Ayla said, her voice sharp. “The only reason why Father bought your act was because he didn’t believe you’d be genuinely foolish enough to antagonize him like that – but I know you better. What is the matter with you?”

  Levi had a set of very important rules he strove to follow. He had many sets, actually, but this one was the most relevant right now.

  Rule one, deny. Rule two, deny. Rule three – well, you get the idea.

  “Sorry, I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about.”

  Ayla growled. It might have been menacing were she not an entire foot shorter than him. As it was, Levi found himself struggling to keep his expression neutral. Holy shit, she was adorable. Was this what it felt like to have a little sister?

  “Fine,” she bit out. “I should have known by now that your sense of decorum is even worse than your skills as an adventurer. Just–“ She stopped herself. “Just watch yourself next time.”

  “I will take your words into consideration,” Levi said, smiling placidly. “Thank you for your advice.”

  She gave him another glare before turning on her heel with a disgusted shake of her head. But just before she left, Levi caught her muttering something under her breath – so soft he almost missed it.

  “Why do you always have to be such a failure?”

  Levi went still, the smile slipping off his face as he watched her retreating figure. Not because of what she said, but because of the way she said it.

  For the first time since meeting her, it didn’t sound like Ayla was insulting him.

  Instead, she’d sounded hurt.

  The Ironwood manor was massive. Levi made his way back to his room in silence, retracing the steps he and Ayla had taken earlier. He made no missteps– it was second nature to him by this point to create a mental blueprint of any building he entered. He came across several servants in the halls, and though they all bowed to him as he passed, he could tell their politeness came from obligation rather than any real respect.

  It seemed the previous Levi hadn’t been very well-regarded.

  "Young Master."

  Levi paused, turning to the servant who’d called out to him. He was a balding man with thinning hair and a well-groomed mustache.

  “Yes?” he asked.

  "Your class at the Institute begins in half an hour," the servant said. "I've been instructed to ensure you don't miss it this time. The carriage is waiting outside."

  Irritating. Levi had wanted to find the nearest library and conduct some research on this new world – he was desperately lacking in knowledge. However, after the meeting with his Father, he had a feeling that if he skipped class… wait, class?

  He hadn’t fully registered it when his father had mentioned it earlier, but now that he thought about it…

  “How old am I?” Levi asked the servant bluntly.

  The servant regarded him warily. “You turned twenty a month ago, Young Master.”

  Oh, thank god. For a second, Levi was worried he’d been reincarnated as a teenager. He hadn’t been looking forward to repeating puberty all over again.

  Levi nodded. “Thank you.” He didn’t elaborate any further, despite the servant’s obvious confusion. It wasn’t as though their opinions of him could get any worse. “Do you mind leading the way to the carriage? Just so you can confirm to Father that I actually went to class.”

  “Y-Yes, of course. Right away, Young Master.”

  “Say,” Levi said as he followed behind, “How good is your geography?”

  The horse-drawn carriage slowly made its way through the city of Luxanne. Luxanne in turn was the capital of Luminarche, the nation that sprawled along the western side of the Koxus supercontinent. There were three other major nations on the supercontinent, not to mention the countless minor villages and island nations spread around. Unfortunately, Levi had run out of time before he could ask the befuddled servant any more questions.

  Now alone in the carriage, Levi settled into the plush leather seat and turned his attention to the window, taking in the world around him.

  The Ironwood manor was located in one of the nicer districts. Magnolia trees lined the roads, their branches heavy with purple-pink blossoms that drifted down in lazy spirals. Pedestrians walked beneath them in fine clothes – merchants in embroidered doublets, nobles in flowing robes, adventurers wearing the finest gear that gleamed beneath the morning sun.

  The city was a curious combination of modern and medieval. Towers of white stone and gleaming glass rose up against the spring sky, their surfaces etched with intricate patterns that glowed faintly with magical light. Fancy cafes and designer clothing boutiques left their doors open to draw in customers, though as the carriage moved deeper into the city, they gradually gave way to bustling markets where vendors hawked their wares from wooden carts out on the cobbled roads.

  A group of children ran past clutching loaves of bread, laughing as an old baker chased after them. A street performer juggled balls of colored flame that changed hues mid-arc, drawing a small crowd. Two rugged adventurers walked by in heated discussion, one making emphatic rude gestures to the other.

  Levi idly observed all this as he reflected on his meeting with his father. It was clear by now that Death had a sense of humor, sick and twisted as it was. He had been reincarnated into the body of his alternate self: a cheat, a failure, and someone who’d ultimately taken his own life because of it.

  Levi pitied him. But he also felt a vague sense of discomfort. This was his counterpart, after all. They were different people, of course, but… their souls had to be the same, right? Reflections, at the very least. Levi knew what true despair felt like. He had stood there before, at the edge of the precipice to oblivion, had been tempted to take the final step forward – but he’d turned away.

  What made him different from this Levi? What made this Levi different from him?

  Was there even any difference at all?

  He didn't know. Couldn't know. The only person who could answer was gone, taking his reasons with him. Not even Levi could – should – raise the dead. All he could do now was honor the promise he’d made over a burning note.

  I’ll take it from here.

  …

  Though, full disclosure, when Levi had promised that, he hadn’t expected to have to attend class.

  Fuck. He didn’t want to go to class.

  Perhaps it’d be easier if he just got expelled and disowned altogether. He really didn’t have the patience to deal with noble and academic politics, and the less distractions he had the better…

  The carriage rolled to a stop, shaking Levi from his thoughts. The door opened and he stepped out, nodding in thanks to the footman before casting his gaze outward.

  Levi’s eyebrows rose.

  Before him stood a single tall tower of gleaming white marble that stretched up to the sky, shooting up into the clouds like an inverted spear piercing the heavens. Narrow windows spiraled up the tower’s height, their panes made of translucent crystal that caught the sunlight and scattered it into prismatic shards across the marble. The entire building blazed with magical energy to his senses, and Levi instinctively knew that if he attacked the building, he would be instantly pummeled by the innumerable amount of magical defenses and enchantments.

  The Institute of Ascension.

  Out of pure curiosity, he activated his True Sight, looking beneath the surface layer of reality to the concentrated intricacies beneath. With his True Sight, he could see magic in its rawest form. He examined the countless enchantments with an interested hum before shifting his gaze further up–

  His blood turned to ice.

  In his peripheral vision, he could see other students staring at him, whispering and giggling amongst themselves. He barely even noticed them as he stepped forward, gaze still locked onto the extraordinary tower.

  He was trembling, he belatedly realized. His magic was whirling agitatedly within him, howling to be released. The hairs on the back of his neck were standing straight up. For good reason.

  Never before had he seen such a dark, disgusting, unholy light before. It was vile, so inherently evil it made his stomach sick. The source of the magic was located somewhere in the upper levels, beyond the clouds, but even from that distance, Levi could feel his instincts screaming out in agony at the sheer inherent wrongness. It was utterly anathema to the senses of an archmage.

  Death had warned him of an imminent cataclysm threatening this world. Was this it? Had Levi found the source? Or was this something else?

  Setting his gaze, Levi strode forward toward the entrance hall of the Institute of Ascension, his previous thoughts of expulsion forgotten.

  He had his work cut out for him here.