As the confusion continued to gnaw at him, he asked, “I’m sorry, but who are you?”

Yet, instead of providing him with the answer, the old man just looked at him in surprise. 

Nonetheless, he pressed on. “Who are you? Who am I? What is this place?”

Before the butler could utter a word, a voice reverberated throughout the chamber. "Her Majesty the Empress is entering!"

The door burst open, compelling them to turn to the sound, revealing a blonde-haired woman wearing a fancy gown rushed in their direction. 

She reached out to him and enveloped him in a tight embrace, her words muffled by emotion as she spoke. "I'm so relieved to see you awake at last!"

Letting go of him, she landed a kiss on his cheek and cradled his face, concerned blending with relief etched on her features. "Allen, my dear, are you alright? Are you hurt anywhere?" Worry tinged her voice.

Meeting her gaze, a whirlwind of emotions stirred within him. With several people addressing him as 'Your Highness', he deduced that the owner of this body was a Prince and the woman in front of him was his mother—an Empress. Nevertheless, he had no idea how to respond to the worries and affection she showered upon him. Despite her love and care, he couldn't shake the discomfort, knowing that he now inhabited her son's body.

As Allen remained silent, the butler interjected. "Pardon me, Your Majesty, it appears Prince Allen has experienced memory loss."

The woman's expression hardened, her cerulean eyes widening in shock. Glancing at the butler in alarm, she exclaimed, "What do you mean?!"

However, upon watching them, his sight suddenly blurred into a haze and their voices became distorted. "Huh?"

Before he could fully process what was happening, a blinding white light burst into Allen's eyes, forcing him to snap them shut. When the sound of the roaring crowd echoed around him, mingling with the thundering hooves of horses, he cautiously lifted his eyelids and found himself seated high above the ground. An expansive arena stretched before him, encircled by stands filled with cheering spectators.

Beneath, two knights clad in full-plate armor rode upon armored horses decorated with trappings, each gripping a long lance by their side. The moment the blaring sound of trumpets resounded throughout the field, they charged toward each other.

'A jousting match?'

Everything was unfamiliar, but the scene before him was vivid. Despite the confusion, he could feel his heart pounding with excitement. As Allen suddenly turned sideways, he realized he had no control over Allen's body. It was as if he were there to observe everything unfold. 

Locking eyes with the Empress, Allen spoke mirthfully. "Today's match is so fascinating!"

The woman smiled, but before she could open her mouth, the sound of crackling filled the air, urging them to look upward. However, their eyes widened in surprise upon witnessing the crumbling ceiling above them. 

"Allen!" Reacting instinctively, she threw herself around him, shielding him from the cascading debris.

The scene fast-forwarded, and Allen discovered himself standing before a body buried under the rubble. Judging from the lone hand left uncovered, he knew it was the Empress. Blood seeped beneath the debris, creating a crimson puddle under his shoes. Allen's strength faltered as he sank to his knees, the sorrow and despair choking him in their tight grip. With trembling hands, Allen reached out and clasped her cold hand tightly, tears streaming down his cheeks.

The scene faded into nothingness, and with a sudden, sharp gasp, he was thrust back into reality. His breath came in ragged gasps, his body drenched in sweat as if he just emerged from a nightmare. Amidst his disoriented state, he heard the woman and the butler continue to call out to him, panic laced in their voices, but their words were a jumbled cacophony in his ears. Removing his hands from his head and bringing them into his sight, Allen let out a relieved sigh, knowing that he finally regained control of his body once more. 

As a pair of hands gently cradled and lifted his face, Allen instinctively raised his gaze to meet the Empress' eyes. Her face was flushed and swollen, worry deeply etched on her features. "My dear, are you alright?"

Suddenly, a pang of agony pierced his heart, and tears began to well in his eyes. Engulfed by emotions he couldn't comprehend, Allen reached out to his mother and embraced her. Wrenching sobs escaped his mouth as he buried his face in her, soaking the fabric of her dress with his tears.

Despite the confusion, she held him tightly. "Allen, what happened?"

Truthfully, it should have been him asking the question. 'What is happening to me? What is wrong with me? Why did I suddenly feel so sad when I saw her?'

As Allen continued to sob, she gently stroked his hair and whispered in a soothing tone. "It's alright, it's alright. Mom is here."

Yet, no matter how hard he tried to cease his tears, they continued unabated. Just moments ago, he had been perfectly fine at the sight of her. So why now? 

Was it because he witnessed her death? 

Even if that were the case, he had no reason to cry; after all, this was the first time he had ever met her. He had no personal connection to her. 

Then why? 

As someone unaccustomed to shedding tears easily, he found himself at a loss as to why he reacted this way. Nonetheless, he gripped his mother's dress tightly as an unsettling thought crossed his mind.

What if…

What if... Allen didn't actually die, and his soul still remained in this body? Then it became clear why he was suddenly overwhelmed with sadness; it was because his emotions resonated with the real Allen.

Suddenly, a voice echoed throughout the chamber, breaking the tense moment. "The Honored Physician has arrived!"

The woman's eyes flickered toward the entrance, where an elderly man with long white hair, dressed in a flowing white robe, entered the room. With a sigh of relief, she returned her attention to her son, whispering, "The Physician is here. Let's get him to check your condition first, okay?"

Allen nodded in understanding and released her grasp. As their eyes met, she offered him a warm smile and gently wiped away the tears on his cheeks. "Don't worry, my dear. Everything will be alright."

After a fleeting moment, Allen eventually responded. "...thank you."

Returning his gratitude with a soft smile, she planted a kiss on his forehead. Nevertheless, he couldn't help but feel conflicted. Despite the strangeness of the situation, he found himself drawn to her comforting embrace. Could it be that the absence of a mother figure in his previous world made her affection so compelling? However, alongside that warmth, he felt a pang of guilt for accepting her affection, knowing he wasn't truly her son.

Arriving before them, the Physician bowed and respectfully addressed them, "Your Majesty, Prince Allen. I am here to assess the Prince's condition."

The Empress nodded in acknowledgment and stepped aside, gesturing towards Allen with a subtle urgency. Her voice tinged with a hint of desperation as she spoke. "Please, make your assessment, Physician. My son appears to have lost his memories."

Surprise briefly appeared on the old man's face before he quickly regained his composure. With a nod, the Physician redirected his attention to Allen and extended his hand toward him. "Your Highness, may I have your hand?"

Allen reached out his hand to the Physician, and the moment their palms met, the old man closed his eyes and began to chant. Shortly after, a small magic circle filled with intricate symbols materialized above their joined hands, its crimson glow casting a warm light around them.

A wrinkle formed on Allen's forehead as he watched the scene unfold before him. 'Magic exists in this world?' As if being transmigrated into a Renaissance-era setting wasn't enough of a headache, the sudden revelation of magic added another layer of confusion. 'Just what the hell is this place?'