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3

2

1…

And finally, "0." .

He knew the world around him probably erupted into panic, but Lyerin remained calm. He knew something significant was about to happen.

Ding!

Suddenly, a screen appeared in front of him, glowing with an eerie light, with a message saying.

[ You have a bloodline similar to one of the inhabitants of the ruined world.

[ You will not be sent to the ruined magical world randomly or directly.

[ Would you like to use your bloodline to avoid an unfortunate situation?

[ Or would you prefer to be randomly sent to another part of the world, with a high probability of an unfavorable outcome? ]

Lyerin read the message, his mind couldn\'t help but think deeply.

Normally, he would avoid going back to his assassin family. He knew they would treat him as a slave, just like before. But the thought of revenge burned within him. He couldn\'t let them get away with what they had done to him.

Memories of his past life flooded his mind. He was a young boy, standing in the cold, sterile halls of the family mansion.

The elders looked down on him with disdain.

"You are nothing but a tool," one of them said. "You have no talent, no shadow core. You are a failure and will serve as a slave to this family."

They had stripped him of his name and identity, reducing him to a mere servant.

Every day was a struggle for survival.

He had been beaten, starved, and humiliated, all in the name of their quest for power.

Lyerin clenched his fists, anger boiling over. He remembered the long nights spent in a dark cell, his body bruised and battered.

The pain of the lash, the sting of their cruel words. But worst of all was the sense of helplessness, the crushing weight of his insignificance when they killed his mother in front of him.

Lyerin was glad when he found out that she was alive. Although she had turned into an Eldritch Flesher in the real world, for some unknown reason, she was alive in the ruined magical world due to the actions of the Borgias family.

However, just as he found her there, they killed her mother, Lina, in front of him.

Causing her to die again, and that death was the final death.

Soon, his mind snapped back to the present, the screen still floating before him.

He had a choice: face the unknown or use his bloodline and return to the family he despised. His decision crystallized in that moment. He wouldn\'t let the family escape their sins, he would take revenge, but also for the sake of fun.

They had taken everything from him once, but this time, he would be ready.

Lyerin tapped the screen, choosing to use his bloodline.

Soon, he felt his blood veins heated up and coursed through him, and the world around him became warped and bent. After a few seconds, the chaos faded, replaced by a blinding flash of light.

Not long, Lyerin found himself standing at the back of a carriage, surrounded by a group of men dressed in medieval attire.

The men wore simple yet sturdy clothing: tunics made of rough-spun fabric, leather belts cinching their waists, and boots caked with mud from the road.

Some had chainmail visible beneath their tunics, and a few carried swords at their sides, while others held spears or bows.

In front of him stood a man with a stern expression and arms crossed over his chest. His tunic was a darker shade, almost black, and adorned with a silver brooch that marked him as someone of importance among the group. His dark eyes scrutinized Lyerin, brows knitting together in a mixture of suspicion and curiosity.

"He didn\'t make it," the man muttered under his breath, glancing at Lyerin before looking back at his companions.

Then he turned his full attention to Lyerin and began asking a series of questions. "Who are you? Where are you from? What do you do? And most importantly, what can you do for us?"

Lyerin took a deep breath, his mind racing. He knew he had to answer carefully. "I am Lyerin, from the Borgias Family, codename: Middlehorn."

The effect of his words was immediate and fast.

The man in front of him widened his eyes in shock, and the other men around him reacted similarly.

They straightened their postures, and the man who had been crossing his arms dropped them to his sides, standing to attention.

The leader quickly composed himself, his expression shifting from suspicion to respect. "Men, stand at attention! We have the honor of welcoming a member of the great Borgias family among us!"

He cleared his throat and began to speak, his voice ringing out with a newfound fervor. "Lyerin Middlehorn, it is with great pride and honor that we welcome you into our ranks. The Borgias family is renowned throughout the kingdom for its unwavering loyalty and unmatched skill. As the trusted weapons of the Royal Family, your family\'s name carries weight and respect that none can deny.

The tales of your bloodline deeds and the whispers of your bloodline prowess precede you, and we are truly fortunate to have one such as yourself in our midst."

The man\'s speech continued, growing more elaborate and flowery with each passing moment. "In these uncertain times, the presence of a Borgias is a beacon of hope and strength. Your family\'s history is one of valor and unwavering dedication to the crown. We are humbled by your presence and vow to follow your lead, to learn from your wisdom, and to stand by your side in the trials to come."

Lyerin listened, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth as he considered the irony of the situation.

The Borgias family, one of several powerful families within the kingdom, was indeed an assassin family loyal to the Royal Family.

They were known as the silent enforcers, the unseen hand that struck down threats to the crown.

The mention of his codename, Middlehorn, seemed to have solidified his claim, ensuring his immediate acceptance and respect.

He knew all too well what happened to those who couldn\'t answer quickly or claimed a less prestigious lineage.

In his past life, he had witnessed the fate of those unfortunate souls.

They were treated as outcasts, barely better than slaves, and forced to endure unimaginable hardships. But now, armed with the knowledge of this world\'s intricacies, he could manipulate the situation to his advantage.

The man\'s speech finally drew to a close, his expression one of earnest reverence. "We are at your service, Lyerin Middlehorn. Command us as you see fit, and we shall follow."

Lyerin couldn\'t help but laugh inwardly at the ease with which he had turned the situation in his favor.

In this kingdom, it is said that in order to become a Mana Knight, they must inject something into their hands that was given by the kingdom. However, this is usually a last resort because it might backfire if they encounter spirits that are not part of their kingdom.

So, the kingdom makes them use the name of a family. If they say the important family names within the kingdom, then they have nothing to worry about. If they do not, the kingdom would enslave them to ensure their safety.

These men were now his to command, thanks to the mere mention of the Borgias name. He knew he had to be careful, though.

Deception was a dangerous game, and any slip-up could lead to his downfall.

"Thank you," Lyerin said, his voice calm and authoritative. "But, don\'t you all want to test if I was saying the truth or not!?"