Transmigrated As The Perverted Young Master



"I can't go back looking like this," he thought, looking at his own reflection at the base of the mountain on a stream.

He looked old. Fully bearded, wildly unkempt long hairs, that too white hair, and the dress...it was just made up of deer pelts, with spots on it.

After a year, the dress he had in the bag, which was stolen by the hermit, was pretty much unusable. Even with holes, he had worn it but how much can a dress resist against the harsh training and terrain? If someone from the noble circle saw him, they will write this in their history books and will mock the Zadkiels for generations.

The only thing that has any value, at least, is the cloak he made of a magical bear.

"I need a makeover. Don't you think, Aviora?" He splashed the water onto his face, cleaning it. The cold and cool water freshens him up.

·ƈθm If climbing the steps took half a year, descending it only took a day. He had jumped from step to step, lightly tapping on the branches protruding from the sides of the cliff.

"Coooo...." Aviora croaked back. She was eating worms from the ground, picking them from the ground, and quality-checking them.

"I know, right? They would be baffled to see me like this." He washed his hands and legs with the water and ate fruits before setting out. To home.

He passed through the temple, it was less crowded. He noticed there were no nobles at all. That made him grateful.

It means that all of them are busy preparing for the tournament. After all, it's just two weeks away.

"Danielle and Daemon. Those two must be in the tournament." 

It was like this even in the books. But what made him wonder is the tournament itself. Why is there even a tournament in the first place?

This is a tournament for unity among the kings, something he had thought he avoided. He had saved both Blaire and Serielle. Serielle's death was the one key that triggered the war and later this tournament. He had saved her, so why?

Many thoughts passed through his mind, but he refused to believe them. The mind can weave anything at all, right?

Aviora flew towards him and perched on his shoulders, crooking her head to look at him. Seemingly concerned, feeling his mind was in turmoil.

"It's nothing, buddy," he said, caressing her head. "We can have our answers back at home. Not to mention, you can meet our family too. Exciting, isn't it?" 

She nodded enthusiastically, flapping her wings vigorously. It felt nice to hear such words coming out of a bird.

He called for a cart puller at the entrance of the temple.

The man came running quickly with a small cart, connected with two pieces of wood on either side, on his back.

Damien mounded it and set his destination to the Royal Capital.

After all, where else to hear news other than a crowded shop or tavern?

After a few hours of running, the cart finally came to a halt at the entrance of the Royal Capital.

Damien paid the man in silver. He had coins stored in the bag.

Now, before getting a makeover, he decided to visit taverns around the city center. This is a good time to get some information about the tournament while drinking beer.

The capital city was bustling, like always. Only this time, it was more than ever. The capital city is in a huge celebration now. Colors were everywhere. New fancy items hung in the shops.

"Mangos, mangos. Sir, look here! This mango is a rare delicacy of this kingdom. You won't find it anywhere." One of the shopkeepers called him while he passes through the street. He was a plump man. He ignored him.

There wasn't a single spot where there weren't any people at all.

He located the tavern, but on the way, he also saw something else. It made his heart race a little.

It was a brothel. Just next to the tavern.

And there were girls outside, don in suggestive and almost non-existing dresses, calling the men passing by. One of the girls, a petite one with good proportions, touched his body. Sliding her fingers across his chest. "You look tired. Would you need some company?" her voice was alluring. It sent shivers down his little dragon. It started to stir.

Dangerous. He thought. He quickly said no and entered the tavern. He knew he won't be able to hold in if he stayed a little more there.

...

A group of men gathered at the table next to Damien as soon as he sat down. Aviora set off in the distance, enjoying the capital of its finest. She said, something about not liking the cramped space or something.

He had ordered a large beer. He sat there taking sips slowly, waiting for the group of men to talk about anything important.

It was bound to happen. Drunken people are the best news carriers.

And it happened. They started with the tournament participants. And he was spot on about Danielle and Daemon. Other than them, there was Edward from the Silverthorne, duchy, and other lordlings. It almost looked like the others were here just because of politics.

Useless and opportunity stealers. He scoffed at them and drank more of his beer.

Soon enough, the topic shifted to rumors, gossip, and the like. One of them spoke about a strange girl who entered the capital. Everyone agreed she seemed very familiar, but could not recall anyone in particular.

He didn't think about it much until the man said she had long, flowing dark hair and dark eyes.

For some reason, he thought about Lilith. She wasn't real; he knows.

'It must be some other girl,' he shook his head.

The topic then shifted again to some other matters and he was uninterested until he heard that words.

"This is all because of that war between our kingdom and the Islanders," the large man with a port belly said, wiping the foam from his lips.

'War? The islanders?' Damien's mind raced as he heard it.