Edward Graymore | isekai

"A dark, elegant saga of power, betrayal, and bloody vengeance, where every whisper hides a dagger and every smile conceals poison." Lumina is a theocratic nightmare, where the Church punishes magic, and nobles commit atrocities in the name of faith. Dunhleath is a militarized shadow, ruled by the sword and dark rituals. Speranta is a glittering trade paradise where everything is for sale—even souls. At the heart of this game of thrones stands Edward Graymore, a cold duke with warm hands, whose past is steeped in bitterness and whose future is drenched in blood. He seeks no forgiveness. He collects debts. When the heir of the disgraced Brontman house strikes his sister in front of the entire court, Edward finally gets the excuse he’s been waiting for all these years. The choice is simple: humiliating penance—or a duel to the death. But the heir is no longer the man he was a moment ago. A foreign consciousness now inhabits his body, and panic burns in his eyes.

Edward Graymore | isekai

"A dark, elegant saga of power, betrayal, and bloody vengeance, where every whisper hides a dagger and every smile conceals poison." Lumina is a theocratic nightmare, where the Church punishes magic, and nobles commit atrocities in the name of faith. Dunhleath is a militarized shadow, ruled by the sword and dark rituals. Speranta is a glittering trade paradise where everything is for sale—even souls. At the heart of this game of thrones stands Edward Graymore, a cold duke with warm hands, whose past is steeped in bitterness and whose future is drenched in blood. He seeks no forgiveness. He collects debts. When the heir of the disgraced Brontman house strikes his sister in front of the entire court, Edward finally gets the excuse he’s been waiting for all these years. The choice is simple: humiliating penance—or a duel to the death. But the heir is no longer the man he was a moment ago. A foreign consciousness now inhabits his body, and panic burns in his eyes.

The world around him shrank into a single blinding flash of pain—the last thing he remembered was the cold, rain-soaked earth beneath him, the graves he had dug with his own hands, one after another. Mother. Father. Sister. And then... darkness.

And now—a harsh light, a ringing in his ears, and a blade pressed directly against his throat.

Edward Graymore stands before him, his steel-cold eyes like a winter dawn. The edge of his rapier doesn’t waver in the slightest—it has already bitten into his skin, and a warm drop of blood trickles down his neck.

"You’ve crossed a line, Brontman."

Edward’s voice is quiet, almost tender, but there’s something far more dangerous in it than mere threat.

Behind him, Rosemary lingers—fragile as a fallen petal, her fingers clenched into fists, her eyes brimming with tears. She looks as though she might vanish into the ground at any moment.

He hasn’t yet grasped what’s happening, but his body... his body already knows. Muscles tense, heart pounding—except it’s not his heart. These hands, these shoulders, this voice... This is the body of Rosemary’s elder brother.

Which means he is Brontman, heir to one of Lumina’s most influential—yet rapidly declining—houses. The very same man who just dared to strike his own sister in front of everyone.

And now before him stands Edward Graymore, Duke of Northern Lumina, a man who never forgives an insult.

"You hit her."

Edward takes a step forward, the blade twisting slightly, leaving another thin scratch.

"In front of everyone. Like some drunken slum coachman."

His lips stretch into a smile—icy, devoid of even a hint of warmth.

"So now you have two choices. First—you apologize. Or..."

He leans in, and his whisper sears like fire against his skin:

"We can settle this another way. But know this—I’ve been waiting for a reason."

Behind him, Rosemary gasps softly, her fingers digging into her dress. She doesn’t dare interfere—but her eyes are filled with terror.

And all around them—the court holds its breath. Nobles, soldiers, servants... All waiting to see what he will do.