The roar of the crowd, previously a distant hum, now seemed to press in on me from all sides. I sat stiffly on the velvet cushion, my gaze fixed on the arena floor. Theodric Von Alder, his rapier still dripping, stood over the fallen commoner. The man's eyes were wide, staring blankly at the sky, his life extinguished. My life.
A wave of nausea washed over me, cold and clammy. This wasn't a dream, wasn't a game. Someone had just died in my place. A man I didn't know, whose life was sacrificed so mine could continue. The weight of it settled in my gut, a heavy, sickening feeling. I had chosen to survive, and in doing so, I had condemned another.
Theodric, for his part, looked mildly annoyed. He kicked the commoner's body gently with his foot, a dismissive gesture. The story expected me, Kai Lorne, the scrawny extra, to be there. The novel described his reaction to Kai's death as one of cold satisfaction. Now, there was a flicker of confusion in his steel-gray eyes, quickly replaced by a shrug of indifference. To him, one dead commoner was much like another. The spectacle had been delivered, the 'Tutorial' completed.
The booming voice from above announced the conclusion of the bout, praising Theodric's unmatched skill and swift victory. The crowd roared its approval, oblivious to the subtle shift in fate that had just occurred.
As the cheers continued, a familiar blue shimmer appeared at the edge of my vision. The system. It was back.
[ WARNING: STORY DIVERGENCE INCREASED BY 4PPT ]
Four percentage points. That was the cost of my choice, the immediate consequence of altering my fate. It was exactly what the system had warned me about.
Before I could fully process that, another message appeared:
[ GLITCH COEFFICIENT INCREASED BY 2PPT ]
And then, the system began to flicker. Not a full-blown chaotic glitch like before, but a subtle shimmer that would appear and disappear every minute or so. It was like a faulty lightbulb, a constant reminder of its instability, a digital pulse reflecting the abnormality of my new existence. It was unsettling, a constant visual hum in my fixed vision.
"My dear," Lady Sapphire's voice, soft and refined, broke through my thoughts. I turned to her. She was a woman of delicate features, currently etched with a faint distaste. Her eyes, the color of warm honey, were fixed on the arena floor, where attendants were now dragging away the commoner's body. "This display is… rather uncouth. I believe I've seen enough for today."
Lord Sapphire, a man with a neatly trimmed beard and an air of quiet authority, nodded gravely. "Indeed, my dear. Perhaps it is time we took our leave. The purpose of the '
Tutorial has been served." He glanced at me, a flicker of concern in his eyes. "Kai, are you feeling unwell? You seem rather pale."
"No, Father," I managed, my voice a little hoarse. "Just… the heat of the arena. It's quite intense." The lie came easily, surprisingly so.
He nodded, accepting my explanation. "Of course. Let us depart then."
The Sapphire family. My new family. Lord and Lady Sapphire, their eldest daughter, a young woman with a graceful demeanor and intelligent eyes, and their first son, a boy a few years younger than me, who seemed more interested in the candied nuts he was munching on than the brutal spectacle below. And then there was me, Kai Lorne, the adopted son. The one who was supposed to be dead.
We rose from our seats, and I followed them out of the VIP box, my legs feeling strangely light, almost disconnected from my body. The contrast between the opulent comfort of the box and the grim reality of the arena floor was stark. One moment, I was dying in the dirt; the next, I was surrounded by luxury, a member of a noble house.
The journey from the arena to the Sapphire family manor was short, conducted in a finely appointed carriage. The wheels rumbled softly over the cobblestones, a stark contrast to the jolting, uncomfortable rides I remembered from my previous life. The interior was spacious, upholstered in rich fabrics, and surprisingly quiet, muffling the sounds of the city outside.
I sat opposite the Sapphire children, trying to maintain a composed facade, but my mind was a whirlwind. This was my new life. I was Kai Lorne, adopted son of the Sapphire family. The commoner who died… he was the original adopted son. The system had swapped our fates, not just with a random bystander, but with the actual person whose role I now occupied. That meant the original, the one who was supposed to be the adopted son, had taken my place as the doomed extra. The irony was brutal.
My gaze drifted to the eldest daughter, then to the first son. They were my new siblings. I knew nothing about them beyond their existence. What were their personalities? Their ambitions? Would they be kind? Indifferent? Would I ever truly belong here, or would I always be Alex Miller, the transmigrator, living a borrowed life?
The manor itself was a grand, sprawling estate, surrounded by high stone walls and lush gardens. It was nothing like the cramped apartment I'd left behind, or the rundown inn room I'd woken up in. Servants moved quietly through the halls, their faces respectful, their movements efficient. This was a world of privilege, of comfort, of security. Everything I had lacked just moments ago.
As I walked through the opulent halls, my hand instinctively went to my chest. There was no wound, no pain. Only the faint, phantom sensation of where Theodric's blade had been. It was a constant reminder of how close I had come, how narrowly I had escaped. And of the price of that escape.
The system flickered again, a subtle blue shimmer at the edge of my vision. Every minute. A constant, nagging reminder that my survival was not without its own set of complications. I had escaped death, yes, but I had also fundamentally altered the narrative. The Narrative Override Engine was unstable, and I was its unauthorized user. What did that mean for me? For this world?
I had survived Chapter 3. But the story was far from over. And I had a terrifying feeling that the real challenges, the ones not written in any novel, were just beginning.