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11.76% Reborn as the Mid Boss / Chapter 2: Chapter 2: The Tower of Despair

Capítulo 2: Chapter 2: The Tower of Despair

Valen—no, Ren—stood frozen before the mirror, his mind racing to make sense of the impossible. His heartbeat, or whatever remained of it, had slowed to a chilling rhythm. This body, these powers... everything was just as he had designed for his in-game character. But now, he was living it.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of heavy footsteps approaching. The grand door to his chamber creaked open, revealing a figure draped in elegant black robes. A woman, with sharp, calculating eyes and raven-black hair tied in a severe bun, stepped forward.

"Brother," she spoke, her voice calm yet commanding. "You're finally awake."

Ren—now Valen—turned to face her, unable to fully mask his confusion. It was his sister, Lilith, a figure he had created in the game as the head of the family. She was the only other surviving member of their vampire bloodline, a powerful figure who managed the family affairs while Valen remained secluded in his tower.

"You've been unconscious for days," she continued, her tone cold as always. "The family's matters are still under control, but you've been... absent from your duties."

Ren clenched his fists, trying to stay composed. His Nobility skill made it impossible for him to show emotion. It was a curse in moments like this, where panic and fear should have been etched on his face. Instead, his expression remained distant, unreadable.

"I'm fine," he replied, his voice flat, devoid of emotion. He wanted to scream, to ask questions, but all that came out was a monotone response.

Lilith raised an eyebrow. "Fine? You've never been one for words, brother, but this... lack of concern is troubling. The empire is watching us. As Duke, you have responsibilities."

Valen nodded mechanically, his mind still racing. He couldn't tell her the truth—not that he even understood it himself. He wasn't her real brother; he wasn't Valen at all. He was Ren, a man from another world, trapped in the body of this cruel character.

"Of course," he managed to say. "I will attend to my duties."

Lilith studied him for a long moment before sighing. "You're weak, Valen," she said, her words laced with frustration. "Everyone believes you're powerful, but I know the truth. Your power is more illusion than reality. You need to focus, or our enemies will exploit your weakness."

Ren felt a chill run through him. Even in this world, in this body, Valen was still weak. No matter how others perceived him, the truth remained: he was vulnerable, surrounded by enemies and false allies alike.

"I understand," he replied, his voice still calm, still emotionless.

Lilith gave a curt nod. "Good. Don't forget, the tower is yours, but it's more than just a property. It's a symbol of your authority. Fail to manage it, and everything you've built will crumble."

She turned to leave, her long robes sweeping behind her. Just before she exited, she glanced back. "And brother," she added, her voice softer, almost gentle, "try not to get yourself killed again."

Ren stood in silence long after she left, his mind reeling from the conversation. Everything around him was real—too real. The game mechanics he once manipulated now felt like laws binding his very existence. He couldn't express fear, couldn't show weakness, yet he was acutely aware of how fragile his position was.

"I have to figure this out," he muttered to himself. "I have to survive this world... my world now."

He stared at the grand halls of his tower, a place that should have been his sanctuary but now felt like a prison.

This was just the beginning.


Capítulo 3: Chapter 3: The Weight of Nobility

Ren—no, Valen—paced slowly through the halls of his tower, the echo of his footsteps mingling with the soft crackling of distant fires and the muffled conversations of servants. The grand stone structure, once a mere set-piece in a game he used to play, now felt far more ominous, alive in its own way. Each step sent a jolt through his body, a reminder that this was no longer a fantasy.

The familiar weight of the Nobility skill weighed heavily on him, more so than before. It was as if an invisible hand gripped his chest, suppressing every ounce of humanity, forcing him to maintain an icy façade. Valen had always been portrayed as indifferent, unfeeling, and now Ren understood why—this cursed skill allowed no emotion, no passion, no outbursts.

He entered the grand hall, where a group of figures awaited him. His disciples. Though he had treated them as tools in the game, seeing them now, as real individuals, made him hesitate. They all knelt in perfect form, heads bowed, awaiting orders from their Duke.

One of them, a tall man with silver hair and eyes like ice, stepped forward and spoke first. His name was Lucian, Valen's first disciple, and one of the most loyal—at least, that's how it seemed in the game. "My Lord, we've received reports from the northern provinces. The Serathin Empire is moving its forces along the border. It seems they are preparing for something... an invasion, perhaps?"

Valen stared at Lucian, his face betraying none of the panic he felt. The Serathin Empire was one of the stronger nations in the game's world, often challenging the borders of Valen's territory. In the game, it was easy to maneuver troops, to strategize without worry, but here? This was real.

"What are the empire's numbers?" Valen asked in his steady, emotionless tone.

"Reports suggest their forces number in the tens of thousands, including their mana cavalry and warlocks," Lucian responded, still kneeling.

Valen clenched his jaw. Tens of thousands. In the game, this might have been an exciting challenge, but now, as he felt the vulnerability of his position, the reality set in. His character had always been underpowered, relying on trickery and manipulation to survive. Without the players' hands guiding him, he was truly weak.

And yet... they all believed he was strong.

"I see," Valen said after a long pause. "We will not act rashly. Send spies to gather more information on their movements, but do not engage. Let them make the first move. We will respond when the time is right."

"Yes, my Lord," Lucian replied, bowing his head further. His loyalty seemed genuine, though Ren couldn't shake the memory of Lucian betraying him in the game, turning against him for a better reward.

Another disciple, Mira, a woman with raven hair and piercing green eyes, stepped forward next. "Master, the academy has sent an invitation for you to attend their annual summit. They wish for you to speak on the growing tensions between empires and the balance of mana use."

Valen's gaze flickered to her. Mira, too, had betrayed him in the game. She had played the part of the dutiful disciple, but at the first sign of advantage, she had turned on him, delivering a final blow in one of his previous defeats. He couldn't trust her. He couldn't trust any of them.

"The academy's matters are of little concern to me," Valen said coldly, his expression never changing. "Tell them I will consider it, but do not confirm anything. My priorities lie elsewhere."

"Of course, my Lord," Mira said, her head lowering, though there was a flicker of something in her eyes. Perhaps irritation, or suspicion. Ren couldn't tell. He couldn't afford to let any of them see through him.

The council of disciples dispersed shortly after, leaving Valen alone in the great hall. He let out a breath he didn't realize he had been holding. This world, this life—it was more complicated than any game. He couldn't rely on pre-determined storylines or scripted events. Everything was a gamble, and everyone around him had their own motives.

---


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