Transmigrated As The Perverted Young Master



Sun rays swept through the canopy of the trees. It was morning already.

Damien woke up. He was sweating profusely.

He looked outside through his tent, only to find that the whole area was covered in fog.

He couldn't even see his hand in front of his face.

"Fog? Now?"

He tried to look around but the fog was so dense that he couldn't even see his own shadow.

"What a crappy day to start a journey!"

All he can do was curse his luck and get ready for his journey.

He ate the food and drank water from the water skin, which by the way can hold more than 99.99 liters of water, with only weighing around the weight of a normal water skin.

Crazy, right?

He washed his face and untied his makeshift tent and laid it and packed it on the magical rucksack.

It too can hold 99.99 kilos of weight on them.

Crazy, right?

But no, these two things costed him a fortune- Well, costed his family a fortune.

Well, what are some golds to a duke anyway!

With one final stretch, he was ready to move and climb the first step of the mountains.

With a deep breath, he started his steep journey.

The fog was thick and dense but he was able to walk without any trouble.

After mindlessly walking for half an hour, he saw a light coming from far away.

It was the faint glow of a fire.

"A fire? Here? Who can it be?"

His mind raced as he thought about a certain someone from the Aldmoor.

But he quickly disregarded that thought as there was no mention of Calen and the hermit meeting nor training.

So it was impossible for him to appear here but if, by any off chance, the plot has changed, the guy can appear anywhere.

"Calm down, Damien. You still have the ultimate life saver with you. Even Calen won't be able to touch you in here."

No one can blame him though feeling scared, I mean, look at it, the goddamn fire is in the middle of nowhere. It could be anyone or anything, hell it could be even a ghost or a spirit cat calling him.

He straightened up and decided to head toward the fire. There was nothing else to do anyway.

Like someone said. "If there are no enemies then you're in the wrong path."

Plot progression, they say. But he doesn't need that progression at all.

Why the fuck would he want to trigger a war and get killed when he can simply enjoy his life with money and women.

He, with a wildly beating heart, walked toward the fire.

***

At the same time in the Zadkial estate.

The acting Duke of the Duchy was in a wild shambles. He was pacing around the room like he had lost something important.

"Why now!? Why is this happening when father is in this situation?" He frantically pounded on the table in frustration and helplessness.

"What is it, my lord?" Duncan asked, walking through the bloody mess Daeron had made in the office.

Papers and quills were scattered everywhere; the desk was broken into pieces, bookshelves toppled over while others fell apart due to their weight. The floor itself was soaked with blood and shattered glass.

Daeron walked towards him in quick steps and grabbed his hands, shoving a piece of paper in his hands.

"Read it!" He practically screamed at him.

Duncan took the letter from him and read: His eyes bulging out as he read through the contents of the letter.

"This...my god!" He gasped. "How can this happen? And that too at this time? what are we supposed to do?"

"Father! Get me him! He is the only one who can take any decisions here. We can't take risks with these kind of matters." Daeron said, his voice containing desperation and fear.

"Yes sir," Duncan nodded his head, trying not to show how worried he really was.

For the next few minutes, Daeron kept reading reports, looking at maps, and making notes.

When the Duke finally arrived, his colors had fully come back. he hasn't touched liquor for more than a few days now. He was calm, composed, and very focused.

"What's going on here!?" He asked seeing all the mess on his table. Duncan had said to come to the office. He only said it was a life and death situation for the duchy and he is needed immediately.

Before he can ask further questions, Duncan had bolted back.

He had to run through the stairs just to be here.

"You better have a reliant reason for this mess, Daeron!"

"Father, look at this!" Daeron ignored his question and handed him the letter.

The varying expression on his face showed how shocked he truly is.

"A war? Now? What the hell's happening now!?" the duke again looked at the letter as he can't believe what was written in the letter was true or not.

The first sentence read:

"Queen Serielle was assassinated, we're at a war!"

***

At the same time, someone else arrived at the Spring Kingdom through the portal.

His skin was the color of the soil, dark and brown, and his hair was long and black, and his eyes were hazel green. They held a certain glow in them like they were searching for something or someone.

He wore a long cloak with the hood pulled over his head masking his long and pointy ears from the outside eyes.

"Name and place?" The officer at the teleportation gate asked.

"Rhaegen, from the Summer Kingdom," He replied calmly and respectfully.

"Summer Kingdom?" The officer looked at the man with curious eyes. "It has been so long since we had a visitor from the Summer Kingdom. So, Rhaegan, what is your purpose to be here?"

"I heard the Spring kingdom has the best fruits in the world. I'm looking for a specific type of fruit here." He licked his lips with his long tongue.