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Reincarnated Renegade

READ THIS ON ROYAL ROAD This is an outdated first draft and Webnovel makes it difficult to update everything. Here is the updated link: https://www.royalroad.com/fiction/37863/reincarnated-renegade = The son of a Duke woke up with amnesia. It's the truth. Was it the whole truth? Not necessarily. The whole truth was that the Duke's son's memories were replaced. By Bellavarn. Bellavarn didn't think he deserved a second life if that was what this was. He died young, sure. But he was the one who ended it in the first place. Did he want this life? It wasn't his, wasn't deserved, and unasked for. Take one of the thousands who beg uncaring gods instead, not him. He wanted oblivion. Examining his new surroundings, the plush pillows, expensive draperies, and the nervous maid, he assumed the worst. Who was he in this world? Time to find out.  So... "Close the doors." "Lord?" "Do it." *This Novel contains dark themes not suitable for all readers. *This is an original novel. Any similarities of existing characters, locations, or otherwise is purely coincidental. (Cover art is my original drawing)

Austin_Scanlon · Fantasi
Peringkat tidak cukup
71 Chs

Awake

Lecil woke up with a cough. An aching chest and a sore throat.

She felt like she got run over and then fell off a cliff. Groaning, she clutched at her chest. A confused expression as she threw off the covers and saw her torn dress.

"What..."

It came out as a wheeze. She ran a hand through her long black hair. It flowed through her fingers as she examined it.

Furthermore, as she looked around the room her gaze became more clear. Her hands shook as she remembered. Jumping off the bed, stumbling, she ran over to her dresser.

In the mirror was her reflection—a raven-haired beauty with fair, pale skin. Bedhead, still wearing makeup. Her lipstick smudged a bit. A black bruise ringed her neck...

Her breathing quickened as more memories came back in a cascade.

"No."

She looked into her dark eyes with specks of purple.

"No, no, no."

She clutched at her hair.

"No! Please..."

Slamming her hands on the dresser, she couldn't bring herself to look back up. Tears threatened her. They won out and started to fall on the polished wood. Her voice squeaked.

"I didn't ask for this."

Her knees fell under herself as she remembered dying.

Dying from a rope around her neck.

"Why am I alive?"

Dying in an accident after saving a child.

"Why am I here?"

She clutched at her chest, trying to wrinkle the torn dress but unable to find enough thread. She cried to herself.

"Is my life just a game to you? What was it worth? Just a game. I'm just a character in an accursed game?"

Pinching herself, Lecil winced as she felt the pain. Rolling up her sleeves, she saw the bruises and the horizontal slashes at her wrists.

"You made me do this? To myself? You made my life a living hell. Every. Single. Day. For what! For background? To create a pitiful character in your stupid romance game?"

Celia spoke.

"No one knew. They all played without knowing. I didn't know. I swear. I didn't. This shouldn't be real. This can't be happening. I died! I remember."

"I died. I hung myself. All because of your stupid game."

"I died, saving a random child. Now, I'm in that stupid game."

Lecil and Celia overlapped and mixed and blurred. The lines unknown. Where one ended and the other began... The knowledge of a different world. Of a romance game. Nothing but bad endings and death.

Her brothers hating that she was from a different mother. Her sister, the spoiled one. Having to beg and plead not to be hit or beaten.

A loving father and mother who sent her off to college. Studying hard for exams. Laughing with friends. Chatting about games.

A blessed life and a cursed one. Chained to fate.

Knocking at the door.

"Princess?"

"OUT!"

The door slammed shut with a yelp as a chair hit the door.

"Screw your stupid game."

=

Lecil changed out of the torn clothes herself and hid them. She dressed herself in nightclothes before she allowed anyone else to enter. It didn't matter anyway. The bruises along her arms and her neck were still visible. It could never have gone unnoticed in the royal palace.

The maid that entered brought breakfast.

Lecil didn't even look her way.

"Leave it."

"Yes, princess."

Whoever she was, she was smart enough to obey the order. The maid left without another word, waiting just beyond the door for when she was needed.

Lecil took a pen and grabbed some paper, jotting down a few notes.

According to her memories, she was in a game.

A romance game simply titled "Renegade."

The game was targeted towards women. It was notorious for being unbeatable. The main character was Lecil. A princess who was secretly born to a mother other than the queen. Only the royal family was aware.

The objective of the game was to reach a happy ending by whatever means. It was a multiple-choice game but also had options for roaming and time-sensitive events or quests.

The problem was... She was detested by everyone!

The day before the game starts, Lecil is abused by her two-faced sister. Her brothers simply walked by and watched it happen. Her father ignored the bruises and abuse, choosing to either ignore her existence entirely or reprimand her if she ever made a mistake.

The night before, Lecil tried to kill herself but was stopped by the young duke Sallow. Instead of letting her die, he let her live after assaulting her.

The entire game was filled with pit traps, spanning over years of time.

And now, she had to live every day of it.

Lecil was in constant danger. Being poisoned by many of the staff. Being tripped down the stairs. An accidental stabbing. Assassination. Magical explosions. Drowning. She was executed if she made any noise or acted out in any way. Lecil also somehow had to save the kingdom from war and being subsequently butchered along with her entire family.

A total shit game.

"Seriously. Fuck this game."

Why did Celia even play it? To torture herself? She never even got past the beginning stages.

The only way to save herself was to romance one or more of the main characters. Her brothers being two. She would get a peaceful family ending if that were the case. Her sister was a bonus and the hardest of the three to win over.

The other options were the young dukes. There were three.

Duke Raiden, the gallant war hero.

Duke Astor, the diplomat and merchant.

And Duke Sallow, the absolute villain.

=

Irene is a maid. A personal attendant to the first princess.

It wasn't an overly difficult job. She was paid well. The only thing she hated was having to serve someone who wasn't even a true member of the royal family. Anyone who talked about it was killed though. So the staff of the palace tried to relieve stress in other ways. Serving stale bread or cold soup. Bitter tea. Taking too long in dressing the princess. Stopping her so she was late for dinner.

Anything more was not their place.

Irene bowed to the first prince. He didn't even glance at her as he entered the princess's quarters without knocking.

=

"Get out-"

The words halted in her throat as she saw Tristan enter. His face hostile.

Lecil wasn't even dressed properly, yet he barged in without knocking? What happened to the maid?

The prince stood in her room, arms crossed. He was already dressed elegantly and his hair was immaculate. For how attractive he should have been, it was all ruined by his scornful face.

Lecil noticed a floating icon above his head; squinting her eyes a bit, she read.

-5%

Why is it negative! What a crap game. It shouldn't be possible, but there it was. If Lecil made a wrong move here... she would immediately be killed.

Luckily, since this was the beginning of the game and the first choice, Lecil knew the path to survival.

"Why were you late for dinner? You embarrassed the family and none of us could speak until you arrived."

Lecil stayed quiet, staring down her eldest brother. A ugly scowl threatened to appear.

"Well? Do you have an answer, or do I have to pry it out?"

A glance at his waist showed that he held his sword. Heavens knew how he got away with slaying his sister over something so trivial, but he would do it regardless. So Lecil spoke up.

"I was trying to cover all the bruises."

Lecil tilted her head up. An offering to his sword. A dark bruise snaked around her neck.

"It would have shamed the family for it to be seen."

Irene's eyes were wide. Tristan's only narrowed.

"You didn't have that last night, only the bruises on your arms."

He would know. One of them fit his hand.

"I still needed a dress with long sleeves, dark enough not to be seen through. It took longer to get ready since no one assisted me."

Tristan turned to Irene, who was standing at the precipe to the room.

"The maid didn't help you? Even when she brought you fresh food this morning?"

He moved over to the cart where the "food" lay untouched—a piece of stale, discolored bread and a plate of soup that was actually just dirty water.

"You aren't even grateful enough to eat what is given to you."

With a casual wave of his hands, the cart tipped over. Soup spilled on the floor and the stale bread tumbled near her feet. The maid yelped at the commotion.

Lecil gritted her teeth. What did she do to deserve this sort of treatment? The maid was just watching. Too afraid to upset the prince and not caring enough to help Lecil. What made Tristan come so early to torment her?

It wasn't fair!

Tristan just stood there, waiting for a response.

Lecil clenched her fists and Tristan momentarily smiled, hoping for her to attack him. But she didn't. Instead, she knelt on the floor. Some liquid soaking into her pants. Picking up the bread, she gingerly dipped it in a bit of pooling soup to make it softer before taking a bite.

It was cold and crunchy despite the foul water. The bread cut at her mouth and it took multiple crunches to break the hard dough. The "soup" only served to make it taste like a dirty rag.

"Princess!"

The maid called out. She actually ate off the floor?

Tristan was furious, his hands shaking with rage. He bellowed.

"Do you have no shame! Eating off the floor like a beggar?"

It's not like you gave me a choice...

Damned if she did. Damned if she didn't. This way she at least lived.

Lecil wanted to give him the middle finger. She chose to keep her gaze downward as she dipped the bread in another puddle of soup.

"Enough!"

The bread was slapped away. It bounced off the wall.

"Maid, clean up this mess and fetch something else."

"Yes, Prince!"

Tristan turned with a huff and walked out.

You're just going to walk away? After all that? What was the point? Your just a piece of script with no substance. Abusing an innocent girl who never did wrong.

The small number above his head changed.

-3%

Hahahaha! That's it? That's all! Two percent and it is still negative. You will still kill me the next time you see me. What a shit game.

The maid reached for a shattered plate but recoiled when she saw the princess's gaze.

Lecil's face was wreathed in shadows. The whites of wide-open eyes were clearly visible. Pupils piercing, dialed in on a target of unfathomable wrath. Full of fury. A purple fire raged. Life burned bright behind black eyes.

There would be a reckoning.

Irene shivered.