The first sound Zhao Lin heard was the fluttering of birds' wings, then a distant chime mixed with the faint creaking of wood.
At first, he found it strange.
Where were the horns that usually woke him every morning? Was it still too early?
Zhao Lin took a deep breath as he turned over in bed, trying to go back to sleep. It wasn't long before he noticed something else was missing.
Where was the musty smell of his room?
The building was old and had suffered from a mold infestation two decades ago. That was the only reason he could afford such cheap rent.
Instead of that terrible smell he had grown accustomed to, the air was too pure... It smelled like lavender.
Bothered, Zhao Lin decided it was time to wake up. He opened his eyes, pulled the blanket off his face, and stared at the ceiling of his room with his usual morning irritation. However, he was startled to find not dark wood, but red-and-gold wallpaper.
The surrounding walls were also wide, and the floor was indeed dark wood, but it was varnished. The windows were huge and covered with white linen curtains that let only a soft glow of sunlight through.
None of this was familiar to Zhao Lin. He lived in a small cubicle that could barely be called an apartment.
In this new room, there was no computer, no outlets, no constant hum of old gas pipes.
Zhao Lin brought his hand to his face, rubbing his eyes, still heavy with sleep. Maybe he was dreaming.
However, even this routine action felt unusual this time.
His fingers were different — delicate, and the skin... pale, too pale.
Zhao Lin looked down at his hands, turning them slowly under the light. His fingers were short but beautiful. He stretched out his arm, watching it from a distance as if it weren't his. It was a small arm, and the color, texture, even the subtle strength in the muscles — nothing matched the body he remembered.
His heart raced. Suddenly, he rose from the bed.
The distance to the mirror was short, but the hurried walk seemed to take forever. This room was huge!
Perhaps Zhao Lin already knew what he would see in his reflection, yet the shock was inevitable.
The person in the mirror's reflection had blond, almost golden hair—a long fringe that fell over gray-blue eyes. His face was symmetrical, surreally beautiful. Moreover, he was very, very young.
His mind refused to accept the obvious, but the reflection in front of him and the spacious room that seemed to have come straight out of the Victorian era left no doubt: he had been reincarnated in someone else's body, in another universe.
And apparently, fate seemed determined to erase any doubt about it.
"Mr. Kiba?" a female voice called from outside the room. "Are you awake yet?"
Zhao Lin quickly turned toward the door to his left. He opened his mouth, and the voice that came out was high-pitched, refined, and beautiful.
"I... yes, I'm awake."
"May I come in, sir?"
Zhao Lin glanced at the mirror again and replied instinctively:
"Not yet."
"I see... Miss Rias asked me to help you get ready so you can join her for breakfast. Your training will begin today. There are clean clothes in the closet."
"Okay, thank you," he replied.
The maid gave a brief affirmative murmur and left, leaving the hallway silent.
Zhao Lin sat on the edge of the bed, his head spinning, and tried to reason. There had to be an explanation for suddenly being in another universe.
As far as he could remember, he was an ordinary young man of China's new generation. He had been working at a startup since graduating from college, earning a mediocre salary, and living in a tiny apartment surrounded by identical buildings. He was confident about his future but also aware that he was no genius. Zhao Lin was neither extremely altruistic nor extraordinary enough to have been The Chosen One for reincarnation.
He also didn't remember performing any kind of strange ritual that would explain a transmigration.
Last night, after a long day and a hurried dinner of noodles, Zhao Lin had simply lain down and closed his eyes. No fatal accident, no terminal illness, no reason not to wake up in his own bedroom.
There was also no indication of a dream. If it was a dream, it was the most solid one he had ever had.
"Ah... Reincarnation is exhausting," Zhao Lin thought aloud and threw himself back on the bed, already mentally drained.
However, the moment he closed his eyes, a series of fragmented memories flooded his mind.
Muffled screams. White lights. Snow. Swords.
These memories were not Zhao Lin's—at least not from his real life.
For a moment, the flashing images stopped at a chamber with metal walls, where several children were holding crucifixes and reciting prayers. Then white, then cold, then a redhead reaching her right hand out to him.
Zhao Lin opened his eyes again and quickly got out of bed.
It didn't take a genius to interpret the signs he had received since waking up.
The spacious room, his appearance, his name—Kiba—the maid calling someone Rias, and now this redhead in his memories. Somehow, Zhao Lin had become Yuuto Kiba from the High School DxD universe.
And the memories he had just seen, although he felt they weren't his, still seemed recent—probably from a few weeks ago.
"Holy... Holy Sword Project..."
Yuuto Kiba had a dense and traumatic past.
Suddenly, Zhao Lin heard a metallic clang, and on the floor beside his bed, a sword appeared, shrouded in black mist that was still solidifying.
The blade was long and silver, with a smooth hilt engraved with Chinese characters representing Collection and Blade, which could be interpreted in many ways.
Zhao Lin unconsciously reached out to grab the hilt. When his fingers touched the sword, something flashed before his eyes.
[Blade Library linked.]
[Synchronization: 23%.]
He blinked hard, incredulous.
[Synchronization: 59%.]
[Synchronization: 78%.]
[Synchronization: 95%.]
[Synchronization: 100%.]
[Blade Library synchronized with Sacred Gear: Sword Birth.]
[Skill available: Sword Birth.]
[Increase bond to unlock access to higher-tier omniversal skills from the Blade Library.]
[Skills on Sale today: Santōryū (Three-Sword Style) and Bankai!]
[Initial Mission: Swing the sword a thousand times.]
[Reward: Bond Points.]
[Progress: 0/1,000.]