I’m a Second Male Lead in a Romance Fantasy, but I Don’t Like the Female Lead

I wasn’t hit by a truck. Nor was I struck by lightning or stabbed by a stranger. I hadn’t even left nasty comments on a novel with a terrible ending.

I don’t particularly care about authors—when I don’t like something, I quietly leave and then vent my frustrations in online communities.

I just woke up one morning in a different world.

I never thought I’d ever have to say “what an unfamiliar ceiling…” in my life. It was strange seeing an elegant ceiling after being used to the plain white ceiling of my studio apartment.

I woke up in an unfamiliar mansion.

After touching my face and body several times, and after asking various questions to a maid who was looking at me like “what are you doing?”, I was able to figure out my identity through the usual clichés.

Mikhail von Sirius. The precious child of House Sirius, the duchy that controls the northern region of the Empire.

I was a young master with a strangely generic-sounding name.

Naturally, the first thing I shouted after coming to my senses was:

“Status window! Status! Stat! Skill! Damn it! Game menu! Status window!”

I shouted enthusiastically, but nothing appeared.

To be fair, these days it’s rare for isekai transfers to come with such features. I knew that, but I couldn’t help what instinctively came out of my mouth.

However, the maid’s increasingly cold stare hurt a bit.

Wait, I’m the sole heir to a duchy and supposedly a precious existence, so I should be allowed to talk nonsense sometimes. She’s being a bit harsh.

Of course, being the kind of person who can’t even speak harshly to family or close friends—in two words, a pushover—I couldn’t voice these thoughts.

“Young master, you don’t seem to be feeling well. Should I call a physician?”

“No, no. Just leave me… leave me alone for a moment. I need to think.”

I shook my head several times and ordered her out.

I almost slipped into formal speech out of habit.

She was clearly older than me and looked a bit intimidating. Not physically intimidating, but she looked like the type who would leave a message unread until the end of time.

I sent the maid away and sat on the bed to organize my thoughts. Wow, this bed is incredibly soft. Is it a water bed?

My thoughts keep wandering. I shook my head several times again and returned to my thoughts.

First, I needed to organize my current situation.

My name is Mikhail von Sirius. 18 years old. The sole legitimate heir of House Sirius.

My father is the Duke, and I have no siblings. My father also has no brothers. This is the second thing I asked the maid, so it’s certain.

In other words, there’s no one to fight to the death with over the next Duke position. I am the only legitimate heir.

I am, to exaggerate a bit, an extremely precious person and naturally won’t have to fight for power.

And as for the Duchy, House Sirius is located in the north of the Empire. In other words, I’m the Northern Duke. I thought Northern Dukes typically had silver hair and exuded coldness, so I should look in a mirror later.

When I asked what Empire, the answer was simply “the Empire.” Apparently, it’s the only empire on the continent, so it’s just called “the Empire” as a proper noun.

Anyway, I’m the Northern Duke. The important thing here is the location of the territory.

A life defending against barbarians and monsters constantly coming from the north, in a land so cold that proper farming is difficult? Being a Duke in name only might be worse than being a Baron in prime territory.

It’s impossible to accurately assess this right now. I’ll have to casually ask the maid later.

But my intuition tells me it’s not bad. The maid’s clothes and my own clothes aren’t that thick.

The current temperature doesn’t feel freezing either. Taking into account that we’re indoors, considering it’s winter, it’s definitely not too cold for agriculture.

And the room is extremely luxurious.

It’s dazzlingly splendid. I didn’t just call it an unfamiliar ceiling for nothing. It has the feeling of a hotel lobby.

It certainly doesn’t look like we’re short on money.

Next, the most important thing.

Mana and magic.

After regaining consciousness and shouting for the status window several times, this was the first thing I asked the maid.

When you’re born as a man and find yourself in someone else’s body, what else would you check for after a status window besides mana?

The maid’s answer was yes. Mana and magic exist.

And I likely know how to use them.

When I asked if I learned about them separately, she looked at me like I was talking nonsense and said I had just come from sword training, so it must be true.

As a man, everyone dreams of becoming the ultimate warrior. A “Sword Master” refers to someone who aims to be the ultimate warrior in life.

I was excited.

Honestly, among those who have read fantasy, there’s no one who hasn’t admired sword masters who emit auras.

I would bet my pinky toe on this. Just to be safe, I won’t bet a whole finger.

To summarize:

I was born as the only son of a ducal family without worries about power struggles. Judging by my light physical condition, I’m very healthy without any special illnesses. Based on my and others’ attire, I won’t freeze to death in the north. Looking at my room, the family has plenty of money. And mana and magic exist, and I can use them.

Huh…

Apart from not having a status window, isn’t this life in easy mode?

There was a time when I thought that.

A week after arriving in this world, I wanted to give a soccer kick to the me who had talked about “easy mode.”

As precious as the young master of a ducal family is, he’s also busy.

I brushed back my sweat-soaked hair.

Sword training had just ended.

When I first started sword training, I was half-expectant, half-worried. Mana and swordsmanship were new to me. The original owner of this body must have been practicing, and if my level suddenly dropped, wouldn’t people find it strange?

But as soon as I grasped the sword, my body began to move on its own.

My fingers wriggled and my loose grip became firm. I could feel the sword firmly in my grasp.

My unstable lower body also became firmly fixed. It felt like my lower body had found its perfectly fitting hole.

My chaotic upper body also corrected itself automatically. It was as if someone was holding me tightly, helping my body find the exact route.

The most surprising thing was the mana. When I swung the sword, my breathing changed. Breathing involuntarily was an unpleasant yet fascinating experience.

Inhale… Exhale…

After several breaths, something ticklish began spreading from my abdomen throughout my body.

Perhaps “ticklish” isn’t the right word—more like “wriggling.”

As the energy spread throughout my body, the sword I was holding became lighter, and breathing became easier.

I could feel my physical abilities improving. Though a sword is not at all light, it felt like swinging a broom during cleaning time.

I swung the sword along the path my body remembered. Actually, it felt less like I was swinging the sword and more like the sword was swinging me.

That’s how I devoted myself to training for almost 3 hours in a trance-like state. It’s called a “trance,” but whether I was spacing out or thinking about future plans, my body moved on its own, so I didn’t need to focus particularly.

After a week like this, I started getting tired of this out-of-body sword show.

If I were actually training, I might not mind, but spending 3 hours with no thoughts while just physically exhausting myself is harder work than I expected.

“Kyle, what do you think about when you train?”

Kyle is the family knight who teaches me. Late 20s? Early 30s? That’s my guess. He might even be younger. If sergeants age rapidly, knights probably do too.

Anyway, after observing this guy for a week, he’s a completely frivolous playboy. Give me back my knight fantasies, you jerk. What kind of knight makes it his daily routine to go to bars and make out with the madams after work? He even proudly tells his young master all about it.

If I were a father, I wouldn’t assign someone like this to my son. Who knows how he might influence him. But when I discreetly asked the servants, they said his skills were genuine, so what can I do? I’m just letting it go in one ear and out the other. I’m not at all curious about his fetish for a bar madam who could be old enough to be my aunt.

“What do I think? I only ever think about young master and my madam.”

“Ugh… sh… that’s creepy. Don’t give me that lip service. When you train, you don’t just swing mindlessly like this, right? Don’t you reflect on swordsmanship or something?”

My current concern is that these daily 3-hour sword training sessions seem very meaningless to me.

Of course, they’re not completely meaningless. If I think of it as 3 hours of intense exercise, my physical stats will improve.

But that’s it. Just like you can improve your stats by auto-hunting in a game but can’t improve your skills, this kind of training only builds my muscles a bit but doesn’t really help with the purpose of sword training.

Since I’ve been transported to another world and born with a good background, shouldn’t I do it properly?

“Hmm… Young master, I’d like to know that myself. I think neither I nor our captain thinks about anything special during training. Only real geniuses think while training. Usually, we just beat it into our bodies until it sticks. That’s how I did it. Oh, wait, come to think of it, I do think about something during training. I think about seeing my madam afterward.”

“What’s so great about that madam? Isn’t there quite an age gap?”

“Heheh… Young master, you’re still young. A mature woman’s…”

“Argh… stop with the dirty talk! Stop it!”

Please don’t damage my ears any further. This guy is never helpful.

After training, I headed to the bathroom to wash off the sweat.

I enter the bathroom alone.

On my first day in this world, I casually asked if there was something like bath service, only to be looked at as if I were trash.

What? Why? It’s a fantasy world, so can’t I dream a little fantasy?

This world is unusually strict about men’s fantastical fantasies. What kind of fantasy world has strict monogamy, no bath service, and doesn’t even have proper circles or auras?

A few days ago, I asked Kyle about circles and auras, but received disappointing answers.

He had never heard of such things. Magicians are just called archmages if they can use strong magic well, and knights are just called sword masters if they’re good fighters.

Sigh.

I let out a deep sigh and looked in the mirror.

The reflection showed a very cold impression. I stupidly grinned.

Wow, even like this, I look handsome. The stupid expression neutralized the cold impression, making it better than I expected.

Mikhail, the original owner of this body, was more handsome than I thought. When I first woke up in this body and touched my face, I thought I’d be handsome with that straight nose and good skin, but it was beyond my expectations.

My hair was black. Not sure why it’s pitch black when all the Northern Duke’s daughters I’ve seen in fantasy novels typically had silver hair. Anyway, despite my extremely black hair and daily sun exposure during training, my skin is snow-white. Maybe it’s because I’m from the north.

And then my face. I was a bit impressed looking in the mirror. It was more handsome than I expected.

I never thought I’d be a narcissist admiring my own face, but that’s what happened. Maybe it’s because it doesn’t feel like my face yet. It still feels like I’m looking at someone else’s face.

My body wasn’t bad either. Not a hulking muscle man, but a decently attractive body.

Lean muscles? It’s the kind of body women would like.

Lastly, that thing. A man’s alter ego and pride.

Western men really are different.