Transmigrated As The Perverted Young Master

Somewhere in the castle, Damien jolted awake. His ears rang with all the screams and wailings.

"What's going on?" He grunted and scrambled on his legs, reaching for the windows, he drew the curtains off.

A bright light penetrated his dozy eyes, making him wince in pain.

The night was lit up, the entire castle seemed like a firework celebration.

The front garden was completely aflame. People were running around, some screaming in fear while others screaming in a frenzied mad state.

Damien's heart raced as he took in the scene before him. He could see that the castle's walls were also on fire, the flames leaping from window to window and devouring everything in their path.

In the distance, he could hear the sound of drums pounding out a hypnotic rhythm. It was the sound of the brainwashed mobs chanting and dancing around the burning castle.

Damien knew he had to get out of there, but he also knew that he couldn't leave without putting up a fight with the madmen. He quickly pulled on his boots and rushed out of his room, determined to do whatever it takes to save his life.

As he made his way through the darkened corridors of the castle, he heard the sounds of chaos growing louder and louder. He could hear the sound of glass shattering and wood splintering as the throngs continued their frenzied attack.

Finally, Damien burst into the grand hall where the ball was supposed to happen and the sight that greeted him was one of utter horror. The room was in shambles; the chandeliers had fallen to the ground, and the once beautiful decorations were now nothing but ash.

Amidst the chaos, he could see the servants attacking the remaining guests with spears and knives. Some guests lay motionless on the ground, while others tried to fend off their attackers with whatever they could find.

The stench of blood permeated the air as the cries of pain filled the hall. One man, half his head missing, tried desperately to fend off a pair of guards with his sword, but all he succeeded in doing was injuring them both.

"GET HIM!" a loud voice bellowed from somewhere within the hall.

Damien found himself pressed against the wall of the hall. He could see the back of a guard charging towards the man who was fighting them off. The guard had his spear raised above his head. But before the spear could come down on the hapless man, the guard's legs were pierced by a crossbow bolt, sending him falling to the ground. The servant, with a maddened expression and, blood smeared all across his face, laughed out loud, loading another bolt to his crossbow.

"Kill them all! Kill them all!" Another one chanted loudly, driving his shovel to a fallen noble's head. With a grotesque crunch, brain matter and fluids smattered the ground.

Damien braced the bile that threatened to come out before ducking under the arm of a guard and dashing out of the hall.

His mind was racing, but he knew it was not going to be an easy task to escape, not when he had to navigate through the mob of people dancing and chanting.

He turned left at the first corridor he came across. He could hear the sound of heavy footfalls behind him, and he had to do something before they caught up to him.

He turned into the next hallway he saw and kept running, even as he heard the sounds of pursuit growing louder and louder behind him.

Finally, he found an exit at the other end of the hall. The guards were nowhere in sight. Damien could see the courtyard, full of fireflies.

"I've got to find a horse." He thought to himself. "And a way to get out of here before those guards come chasing after me. Where are they?" He wasn't too worried about his family, as there was no one here powerful enough to take on Sir Duncan.

For an absurd moment, he thought about them laughing and killing others with blood and guts all over them, but he quickly shook those thoughts away. So what if they're brainwashed? It doesn't matter to him at all.

He knew he couldn't stay around for long; he had to leave and find a place to hide.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a voice coming from somewhere inside the castle. It was a loud cry of a woman. A woman who he was familiar with.

"Daenys?"

Damien's heart skipped a beat as he recognized his sister's voice. He knew he had to find her before it was too late.

"Why am I bothering with her? She is utter trash. Dying might be probably the best thing she can do to me." Though he was thinking like that, his mind quickly formed his own little sister's image from the Earth, the same girl who treated him like trash, but would he do the same with her? Would he leave her behind?

Damien took a deep breath and exhaled it.

He thought about the profits rather than love. Would she amount to something to the risk he was about to take?

His mind quickly skimmed through her character profile from the novel, remembering her major plot lines...

"Oh? Plot lines. Fuck, I'm only thinking about it now. What the heck is wrong with me?"

He forgot about the most important reason to save Daenys. It was the plot itself.

All the other changes that he made can be said to be insignificant, a small drop in the vast ocean, but changing the main plot can have severe consequences.

Daenys plays a major role in the main pathway of the end, though he himself hasn't read the ending, from what he read, she had a major role in the novel unless the author decides to kill her mid-way, just throwing all the character development and hype to the trash bin.

"Well, I guess it's time to play the big brother role."

He started to make his way back into the castle, dodging the chaos around him and hoping to find her before the guards did.

As he made his way through the burning castle, he could hear cries growing louder and more frantic. He dashed and ducked until he found himself outside the door of her bedroom. He could hear the sound of fighting inside. He could also hear a certain cracking sound, like that of lightning.

Without thinking, Damien burst into the room and found himself face to face with a group of mad servants.

'Oh god! It's just the servants,' he thought, as he was sure he would've run away the moment he saw any more of the soldiers or guards.

He knew he couldn't take them all on, but he had to do something.

He charged towards them, grabbing a nearby lamp and swinging it at their heads. The untrained and frenzied servants were caught off guard, and Damien managed to knock one of them out cold.

But the others quickly recovered and started to advance on him. Damien knew he was in trouble, but he refused to give up. Instead, he grabbed a chair and swung it at the closest servant's head. The poor man crumpled to the floor in an instant.

Damien spun around and ran towards the window, but the soldiers were fast on his heels.

He called upon his ice, and the ice came. Though there was nothing much he can do right now, he focused all his will on the ground, covering the ground with a thin layer of ice, so thin that someone had to strain their eyes just to see it.

And sure enough, the servants fell one by one.

He suddenly saw a bright light from his side. A madman was violently shaking, thin tendrils of blue light enveloping him. After a moment, he crumpled to the ground, smoke rising from his entire body.

The blue tendrils suddenly lashed to the ground, connecting themselves with his ice. Its speed suddenly increased and quickly enveloped the grounded servants, electrocuting them. Like previously, smokes emanated from their bodies with a flesh-burning smell.

Daenys retracted her hands, the blue streaks still dancing around them.

They both looked at each other for a moment, neither of them moving nor retracting their eyes.

'Ah, every child of Duke Zadkiel is prodigious,' He thought, looking at the young lady wielding lightning.

After a moment, she finally broke the silence. "Come on, we've to go." She said, grabbing his hands.

They bolted through doors, like soldiers who have trained for years together, they worked together without uttering a single word.

Whenever they see frenzied mobs, he freezes the ground and she will electrocute them with ease.

This wonderful and perilous teamwork was only working because they were fighting just the servants. If they were to come across soldiers and guards, they are sure as hell would be dead.

Finally, Damien lead her to the same point where he heard her screaming. They quickly found an unharmed horse and mounted it.

But before he could gallop, his eyes caught a certain window at the side of the castle. A silhouette of a man and a woman.

He paused for a moment, sighing deeply.

"Come on, let's go." Daenys urged him. "What're we waiting for?"

With a resigned face, he unmounted the horse. "Go on, I've something to take care of," he said, solemnly.

Daenys saw his jaw clenched and tightened. His dark crimson eyes were glowing, like her father's, when he was angry.

"What's wrong?" She asked. "You can't go back to that place. It's overrun by those freaks."

He didn't speak anything. He simply turned around and began to walk the way he came, glaring at the window with murderous intent.