Loop>Live: Death Loop System In Another World

Luc sat in his room at the guesthouse, staring out the window as the sun began to rise over the estate. The orange light spread across the empty courtyards and the damaged remains of the mansion.

In a week or two, everything he saw would belong to politicians and nobles. The land, the buildings, and the people who lived here would all be claimed by others.

He had agreed to King Isaac's terms, even though it felt like he had no choice. Guinevere had insisted he apologize, and he had done it.

It was humiliating, but it was also the only thing that could keep him and his brother safe.

When he begged for forgiveness the day before, the king accepted without hesitation.

King Isaac had even said, "Don't worry, it was the right reaction for someone who lost everything."

After that, the king ordered Luc to stay in the guesthouse for about a week. It felt like a quiet prison, but it was better than nothing.

Still, he couldn't stop thinking about what would happen next. Where would he and Lune live after this week ended? They had no home anymore.

The answer came from the king himself. He told Luc they would be moved to the royal castle.

Not just any castle, but the main royal castle in Derek City, the capital of the Dravoj Kingdom. It was a place Luc had only seen from afar, a symbol of the power he once dreamed of reaching.

Now, it would become their new home.

KNOCK! KNOCK!

"Big brother! It's me, Lune! The farmers are outside the guesthouse pleading to talk to you!"

Lucjan's thoughts paused. The farmers. He had forgotten about them entirely.

The weight of his failure settled deeper in his chest. He had promised to protect their homes and their lives, yet he had lost everything. What could he possibly say to them now?

The door opened as Lune stepped back, giving Lucjan space to walk past. Lucjan took slow, steady steps down the stairs.

When he reached the bottom, he placed his hand on the doorknob and hesitated for a moment. He forced himself to push forward, opening the door.

The sight waiting for him was overwhelming.

Farmers stood with their families.

Children clutched their parents' hands, and elderly villagers leaned on walking sticks.

Faces full of worry, disappointment, and sadness turned toward him. Dozens of eyes, all looking for answers he didn't have.

For a moment, Lucjan wanted to look away.

He wanted to close the door and hide from the burden in their eyes.

But he didn't. He forced himself to keep his head up.

He walked forward, leaving the doorway behind him, and stood tall on the porch. He filled his lungs with air, steadying his voice.

He had to face them.

Lucjan exhaled slowly, feeling the weight of every gaze on him. He stepped closer to the edge of the porch so everyone could hear him clearly.

"I know you're angry," he began. "You trusted me to protect this land and your futures. I gave you my word that I would fight for all of you, and I failed to keep that promise."

A few farmers shifted uncomfortably. Others clenched their hands, their eyes filled with bitterness.

"I thought I was strong enough to protect the Wurford Estate," he continued, his voice rising so it carried across the crowd. "I thought I could stand against the nobles and the king, but I wasn't. I was weak, and because of my weakness, we lost everything."

The crowd was silent, but the silence was hostile. A low murmur of anger began to ripple among them.

"I am sorry," Lucjan said. "I know my words can't change what happened. I know my regrets can't feed your families or save your homes. But please believe me—I never wanted this. I wanted to give you a future, and instead, I've taken it from you."

"Sorry won't give us our land back!" a man shouted near the front, his voice raw with fury.

"Your promises mean nothing now!" a woman yelled, tears in her eyes.

Another voice cut through the air: "You betrayed us, Lucjan! You let them take everything!"

Lucjan winced, the words cutting deeper than any blade. He looked across the sea of angry faces. Their pain was real, their hatred justified.

He bowed his head. "I am sorry."

"I will carry this failure with me for the rest of my life."

But there was no forgiveness in the eyes that stared back at him—only anger, grief, and betrayal.

"I-I swear I'll carry…" He lowered his gaze as he spoke. "I'll carry this failure within me, I swear…"

He lifted his head, but there were hardly any people still watching. Most had already turned away, leaving only the echo of their disappointment behind.

Each second of silence weighed on him. I'm sorry… I tried everything I could…

Then, Lune's voice reached him. "Big brother, let's go inside now… Everyone's already gone…"

Lucjan's eyes scanned the empty space one last time, taking in the absence of the farmers, the empty path, and the soft morning light falling across the trampled grass. Lune was right. There was no one left to hear his words.

They stepped inside the guesthouse together. The air felt heavy with the unspoken grief of what had been lost.

Once they reached the second floor, Lune paused at the door to Luc's room, hesitating as if wanting to offer comfort. But he said nothing, understanding that his brother needed silence more than words.

Luc entered his room alone and stood by the window. The gentle light washed over the land he had failed to protect.

His chest tightened as the weight of his responsibilities settled deeper. He had to move forward, but every part of him felt drained.

He was tired, so tired.

---

After a week spent grieving alone in his room, the day finally arrived for Lucjan and Lune to leave the Wurford estate behind.

They packed their belongings in silence, each movement slow and careful. Neither spoke about what had happened. There were no words left that could change the past.

Once ready, they stepped outside the guesthouse one last time. The carriage waited at the entrance of the estate, its driver standing by with a respectful bow. Lucjan took a moment to look back at the familiar grounds—the buildings, the empty fields, the memories.

He inhaled sharply before stepping into the carriage, knowing there was no point lingering any longer.

Lune settled beside him, his small hands resting in his lap. The carriage started moving, the wheels creaking as they rolled away from the estate.

The journey to the royal castle stretched across two long days. They passed through quiet towns, open plains, and dense forests, each hour adding distance between them and the place they once called home.

During the ride, they barely spoke. The silence between them felt heavy, but it was the only thing either of them could manage.

Lucjan often found himself staring out the window, watching the changing scenery without really seeing it.

He knew that once they arrived at the royal castle, everything would change.

---

"We're here!" the driver said.

Lucjan blinked his eyes open and rubbed them so he could see clearly through the window.

Outside, a massive white wall loomed in front of them. It stretched high into the sky, almost fifty meters tall, guarding the capital city of the Dravoj Kingdom.

As the carriage passed through the main gate, Lucjan looked around. The city inside was different from what he expected.

The buildings looked more advanced than the villages he knew. They weren't like Earth's cities, but they were far beyond the simple stone houses of the countryside.

The walls of the buildings were smooth and white, decorated with small patterns and carvings.

Tall pillars supported roofs that curved slightly upward. Some buildings had pointed towers, while others had flat roofs with neat rows of windows.

The streets were wide, and people walked along them wearing clean, well-made clothes.

Shops lined the main road, with signs hanging above their doors.

Carts moved slowly, carrying goods and supplies.

Children ran along the sides of the street, and the noise of people talking filled the air.

The last time he saw this place was almost ten years ago. He could barely remember it from his memories.

As the carriage rolled deeper into the city, Lucjan noticed the royal castle rising in the distance.

It stood tall above the other buildings, with its many towers reaching into the sky. The castle was made of white stone like the city walls, and it shone under the sunlight.

The closer they got, the more impressive the castle looked.

Guards in shiny armor stood by the large gate, watching every passerby.

The driver guided the carriage to the castle entrance and finally stopped.

Lucjan took a deep breath. This is our new home now.

Lucjan and Lune stepped down from the carriage. The guards in front of the royal castle saluted them, then opened the main gates without a word.

The air changed the moment they entered.

The inside of the royal castle was too clean. The floor was polished to the point Lucjan could see their reflections.

The halls were tall, with hanging banners that carried the royal family's emblem. Servants moved silently, their eyes trained to ignore any guest, but they clearly noticed the brothers.

Lucjan didn't say anything. Neither did Lune. They just followed the butler who guided them down the wide hallways.

Then, at the end of the corridor, a familiar voice called out.

"You're here."

Lucjan looked up.

Guinevere Von Meranne stood there, wearing a calm expression. She was dressed differently now—still elegant, but simpler than before. She wasn't trying to impress anyone.

Lucjan nodded. "Yeah. I'm here."

Guinevere walked closer. "I've already prepared your rooms. You'll be staying in the eastern wing, away from the others. I thought you might want peace."

"Thanks," Lucjan said, keeping his voice even.

Lune stayed close to Lucjan, a little behind him, not speaking.

Guinevere turned her eyes to Lune. "It's good to see you, too. I hope the trip wasn't too tiring."

Lune shook his head. "It was fine, thank you."

Guinevere smiled faintly, then looked back at Lucjan. "There's someone I want you to meet. Or rather… people."

Lucjan's expression didn't change, but inside, he was uneasy.

They walked through the halls, the guards and servants stepping aside as they passed.

Then, she opened a large door and led them into a wide room.

Inside, four people were already waiting.

Three men and one woman.

They weren't smiling.

Lucjan instantly knew who they were—Guinevere's siblings.

They didn't need introductions.

The one sitting directly across from the door had sharp eyes and crossed arms. His uniform was clean. He was the eldest.

The one to his left leaned back in the chair with one leg over the other. He was younger but carried the same air of pride and coldness.

The third was silent, expressionless, with arms behind his back like a knight. He didn't even blink.

And the last one, the woman, sat with her hands folded over her lap. Her chin was slightly raised. Her glare was the sharpest of them all.

Lucjan stood still. Lune shifted behind him.

Guinevere walked ahead. "This is Lucjan Wurford. He'll be staying here. Please be civil."

None of them responded.

Lucjan bowed slightly. "I'm honored to be here."

Still, silence.

Then the eldest spoke. "You're the one who lost his entire estate and still dared to raise his voice in front of the king."

Lucjan didn't respond.

The second brother smirked. "Do you plan to scream again, Wurford? Maybe throw something this time?"

Lucjan's jaw tightened. He kept quiet.

"I've seen stronger farmers," the sister added.

Lune clenched his fists, but Lucjan raised a hand to stop him.

Guinevere stepped between them and Lucjan. "That's enough."

The siblings stared at her.

"You're really going to defend him?" the sister asked.

"I will," Guinevere said. "He's under my protection while he's here."

Lucjan took a small step forward. "I'm not here to start anything. I only want a place to stay for now."

The eldest brother stood. "Then stay out of the way. Don't cause trouble."

Lucjan nodded.

"Good," the man said. "You may leave."

Guinevere turned around and motioned Lucjan and Lune to follow her. They left the room in silence.

Once they were far enough down the hall, Lune whispered, "They're scary…"

"They are," Lucjan replied.

Guinevere stopped near the eastern wing and opened the door. "Your rooms are here. You can rest for now. I'll have someone bring your meals."

"Thanks," Lucjan said.

Guinevere hesitated before walking off. "If they say anything again, let me know. I'll handle it."

Lucjan watched her leave without replying.

---

Inside his new room, Lucjan sat down on the edge of the bed. Lune sat near the window.

"They don't like us," Lune said.

"I know."

"What do we do?"

"We survive. That's all we can do for now."

Lucjan looked at the clean room. It was larger than the one back in the guesthouse. There was a bookshelf, a clean bed, and a window facing the side garden.

It's a nice place.

But it didn't feel like home.

He lay back on the bed and closed his eyes.

He remembered their stares. The way they looked at him like he was a mistake.

This is the royal castle, huh.

---

Lune slept soundly, curled beneath the thick blankets. Lucjan sat by the table.

He set the manual before him: The Hollow Iron Doctrine. He untied the string holding it closed, careful not to wake his brother.

He had brought this since he wanted to become stronger and learn this world, in order to survive.

The first page described the doctrine's purpose: an arc mode meant to heighten comprehension, build insight, and sharpen memory.

It spoke of three stances, but only the first was clearly outlined on this page.

Still Core… That's the first step. I'll start there.

The text explained that Still Core was about achieving absolute calm and centering the mind.

The instructions were simple: sit upright, slow the breath, and silence all thoughts.

Only once the mind became a still surface would the stance activate.

He positioned himself as the manual directed. He inhaled, then exhaled, trying to empty his mind.

Breathe… calm…

A brief sense of peace came. But in seconds, his father's face flashed in his mind. Then the scene of the massacre. The crowd leaving him alone. His hands shook as old guilt clawed into his chest.

No. Stop. Focus. Think of nothing…

He forced himself to breathe again, in and out, but the memories only grew sharper.

Guinevere's stern eyes on the rooftop.

The king's cold look when he surrendered the estate.

The words of the farmers as they walked away.

Calm down…

But every inhale brought more noise. His heartbeat grew louder. His shoulders tensed.

The manual said the mind should become like still water, but his felt like a stormy ocean.

He opened his eyes, panting lightly. I can't even do the first stance…

He glanced back at the page. The manual described that success would bring a sensation of clarity, like a window opening in the mind.

Then why do I feel more trapped?

He reread the instructions, line by line, but nothing changed. His breathing remained shaky. His mind refused to empty.

How am I supposed to do this? It's impossible with everything in my head…

He looked over at Lune, who turned slightly in his sleep but didn't wake.

Lucjan leaned back, resting his head against the wall.

He closed the manual.

I'll try again tomorrow. But tonight, I can't do it.

He set the book aside and rubbed his eyes. He hadn't expected it to be easy, but failing on the first step cut deep.

For now, he could only accept that the Hollow Iron Doctrine wasn't something he could conquer in a single night.