The lie that sets me free. Cale Henituse X Intkot

2.

There are mistakes, I won’t deny that. But since I’ve only written the first chapter, I don’t think it’s fair to judge everything based on it. So, I’ll write a few more chapters about what happened to Deon during the war, and then move on to his encounters with other characters. (The author is just making excuses—there are certain moments I want to write, and you’ll find out what they are in the future.)

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— «Fourteen years...» — He thought, slowly sitting up on the cot. — «And this body still isn't used to any kind of strain.» —

Why was he complaining when he had been weak before? Because this wasn’t the same kind of weak. This body was even worse.

Before, he could at least manage something. But now, any stress would make him cough up blood—through his mouth, his nose, anywhere.

It was a problem, especially when he was doing everything he could to hide it.

Life around him was already in full swing. Soldiers hurried to get dressed, some swore over lost boots, others laughed while trying to wake their comrades. Deon sighed and reached for his uniform. He had gotten used to this routine over the past few days in this world, but every time, his body's sluggishness and its hypersensitivity—both to smells and light—irritated him. Especially the sun.

— «Kim Rok Soo, Cale Henituse, and now Deon Hart...» — He smirked bitterly to himself. — «How many more lives do I have to live?» —

He recalled the last thing he had seen before unexpectedly ending up in this body.

And it had been worse than anyone could have imagined.

After the death of the White Star, the Hunters appeared. One by one, his comrades began to fall. His family… No one survived except for him. And even then, as they lay dying, they still thought of him—of his useless life.

Live, young master.

Recalling his butler’s last words, the former red-haired commander pressed his lips together.

Ron, Lock, Rosalyn, Beacrox, Hans, Eruhaben, Alberu… and all the others. They were gone. His Henituse family had been hunted down one by one, and after their disappearance, they were never found. But he suspected they had met the same fate as the rest.

His children — the ones who clung to him on bitter nights, not wanting to part with him for even a minute. Hong, Raon, and On...

He missed them. Their smiles, their laughter. Their touch, their bright, sparkling eyes, the same eyes he had watched lose their light.

Lost in thought, he didn’t notice how time slipped by. The time for getting dressed was already over, and now everyone was heading to breakfast. Not wanting to lag behind and attract unnecessary trouble, Deon joined them.

On the way, his gaze fell on Milan, who stood by the entrance of the small mess hall, giving short orders or greeting familiar faces. Light brown hair, a scar on his cheek, a confident and slightly cocky look.

He was someone close to the original Deon and a member of the notorious High Knights.

But for now, at this moment, they were nothing to each other — just new acquaintances. Two people who would soon stand side by side in battle, fighting until they dropped. For the Empire, for survival, for themselves.

Right now, his future subordinate looked like someone who knew what he was doing, despite some inexperience. Deon noticed how Milan shot him a quick glance, filled with distrust and slight disdain.

— «A teenager…» — Milan was probably thinking, frowning and quietly scoffing to himself. — «According to the records, he’s the son of a count. Hah, obviously a spoiled brat who has no idea what he's getting into.» —