ã€ŠReturn Of Lost Sorcerersã€‹


 PROLOGUE

    In the distance, the Kingdom of Hualian, a realm renowned for its breathtaking natural beauty and just ruler, stood as a haven for influential people to trade and seek employment. The king¡¯s influence was immense, and his wisdom brought prosperity to the land.

    However, as time passed, the citizens received devastating news that shook the entire kingdom, their beloved King Khein had passed away unexpectedly. The shocking death left the people and every loyal noble who served him in mourning. For three consecutive days, the Kingdom of Hualian was enveloped in grief over their fallen king.

    Time moved on, and a new ruler was appointed, much to the surprise of the people. The one who inherited the throne after King Khein¡¯s passing was none other than the second son among his four children, raising countless questions and murmurs among the citizens.

    Years went by, and the descendants of King Khein found their own paths, each marrying and welcoming beautiful children into their families. Two years after the coronation, a strange phenomenon occurred once more in the kingdom of Hualian. The sky turned gloomy, lightning cracked across the heavens, and fierce winds swept through the city, signs that something was amiss.

    Inside the grand hall, Queen Valera cradled her two-year-old son, one of King Themis¡¯ sons. The boy, with wide, curious eyes, pointed at the stormy sky and babbled with a lisp,

    "Sopeler... Sopeler... Hahah!"

    The queen looked down, confused by his words, but the little boy simply laughed, as if entertained by some hidden knowledge.

    "What did you say, darling?" she whispered gently, brushing his snowy hair from his face.

    But the boy only repeated the strange word, grinning innocently, leaving the queen bewildered.

    Far from the palace, at Ravenwood Manor, the atmosphere was tense and filled with urgency. Lady Evelyn Ravenwood, wife of Duke Harrds Ravenwood, was in the midst of labor. Sweat dampened her forehead, and her cries of pain echoed through the room. The midwives whispered among themselves, anxious about the storm outside.

    Finally, a sharp, desperate cry rang out, and a newborn¡¯s wail pierced the air. The storm seemed to relent at that moment, the sky clearing almost instantly.

    "It¡¯s a boy!" one of the midwives exclaimed, wrapping the baby in a soft linen cloth.

    Lady Evelyn opened her eyes weakly and looked at her son.

    "He... has stormy gray eyes," one of the midwives murmured in awe.

    A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

    "And white hair, just like his mother," another added, carefully cradling the infant.

    Meanwhile, within the palace library, an old scholar was arranging ancient tomes when one particular book fell from the highest shelf. The cover bore an intricate seal, a pair of wings encircling a cloaked figure. Curious, the scholar dusted it off and squinted at the faded title.

    "The Prophecy of the Lost Sorcerer..." he muttered under his breath.

    As he flipped it open, a passage caught his attention

    "When the heavens rage and the earth trembles, the lost sorcerer shall be reborn. Marked by eyes of storm and a soul shrouded in light, he will walk the earth once more, his fate entwined with the rise and fall of empires."

    The scholar froze, his hands trembling as realization struck him.

    "No... it can''t be..." he whispered, eyes wide with fear and awe.

    The old library is dusty and forgotten, stacked with countless books and tomes. A weary scholar or literature enthusiast, maybe someone just seeking knowledge or trying to sort through the mess, accidentally knocks over a pile of old books. Amid the chaos, one tome catches his eye¡ªa massive, leather-bound book with a seal that seems almost alive.

    The cover bears a symbol¡ªa pair of outstretched wings forming a circle, with a cloaked figure at the center, almost like it''s guarding the knowledge within. The seal itself pulses faintly, like a heartbeat. Intrigued and a little nervous, the scholar wipes off the dust and carefully pries the book open, and as the seal breaks, a surge of energy makes the air grow heavy and a sudden gust of wind blew the scholar face after the seal was breaks with a sounds.

    "In the birth of every millennium, the world shall be blessed¡ªand cursed¡ªby the emergence of a soul intertwined with the essence of creation itself. Born under the omen of the weeping stars, this sorcerer shall possess power beyond comprehension, able to bend fate and shatter destinies.

    Yet such power comes at a dire cost, for their presence disrupts the balance of realms. Thus, the one who bears this gift is hunted, feared, and revered, their name whispered in terror and awe throughout ages long past.

    Many sought to claim their power, to chain the very force of the world itself, but none prevailed. Only ruins and ashes remained where the sorcerer once walked, until the world itself wept for their passing.

    The last of their kind vanished from time¡¯s grasp¡ªlost to history, erased from mortal minds. Yet fate is not so easily shattered, and destiny not so easily denied.

    When the sky bleeds and shadows reclaim their rightful place, the Lost Sorcerer shall rise anew, reborn to walk the earth once more, to either claim vengeance or restore balance to the world. Beware the bearer of wings and shadows, for their soul carries both salvation and destruction."

    The scholar¡¯s hands tremble as he reads, and he feels an overwhelming sense of dread, as if something or someone just woke up from a long, dreamless sleep. And softly the scholar muttered "A second book of The Prophecy of The Lost Sorcerers."

    to be continued..

    tell me what you think of this story :)

 CHAPTER 001(The Hidden Motives)

    The night draped its velvet darkness over the quiet forest clearing, where the embers of a dying fire flickered gently against the hush of the wind. The scent of damp earth and pine lingered in the air, mixing with the distant whisper of a nearby stream. Under the soft glow of the crescent moon, the weary knights and sorcerers lay sprawled on their makeshift resting spots, their armor loosened, their breaths steadying after the battle they had faced earlier that day. But amidst them, a lone figure stood apart, his long silver-white hair illuminated by the moonlight like strands of woven stardust. Asael Kian Ravenwood, the man feared for his icy demeanor and unwavering composure, sat upon a fallen log, the usual frost in his stormy gray eyes melting into something softer, something almost... tender. Beside him, the very person who had unknowingly thawed the walls around his guarded heart. They were slightly apart from the others, close enough that the warmth of their presence felt tangible, yet far enough that their voices were hushed, just for them. The air between them carried an unspoken understanding, something deeper than mere words.

    "You¡¯re unusually quiet tonight," the person beside him murmured, tilting their head with quiet curiosity. "Tired?"

    Asael exhaled softly, but there was no trace of exhaustion in his gaze, only a quiet, fleeting peace. He turned his head slightly, his silver lashes casting faint shadows across his cheeks as he regarded the one beside him.

    "I was just thinking," he admitted, his voice lower, warmer. "The stars are clearer here than in the capital."

    A chuckle. "You, of all people, admiring the stars? What happened to the Asael who scoffed at such things?"

    His lips curved into a rare, barely-there smile¡ªone that had the power to steal the breath from anyone who witnessed it, simply because it was so unfathomably gentle. "Perhaps I¡¯m changing."

    They didn¡¯t respond immediately. Instead, they reached out, barely brushing their fingertips against the back of his gloved hand. It was the lightest of touches, almost hesitant. For a second, Asael wanted to turn his palm over, to clasp those fingers within his own¡ªto hold on, just for a moment longer. But he didn¡¯t. Instead, he drew back ever so slightly, pretending not to notice, masking the hesitation in his next words.

    "There¡¯s something I¡¯ve been meaning to tell you," he said, his voice barely above a whisper, the faintest hint of something vulnerable in his tone. The person beside him blinked, tilting their head in curiosity. "Oh? What is it?"

    He opened his mouth, then hesitated. For the first time in years, he felt uncertain.

    "...After this next mission," he finally said, offering a small, almost nervous smile, "I''ll tell you then."

    A promise.

    A promise that, unbeknownst to him, would never be fulfilled.

    And from afar, the others who had fought by his side, who had known Asael as nothing but a disciplined and unshakable warrior, watched in silent disbelief. Because in that moment, Asael Kian Ravenwood was not the cold and distant knight they knew.

    He was simply a man, allowing himself to feel, if only for a little while. The forest was alive with the quiet hum of the night, crickets chirping, leaves rustling in the evening breeze. The faint glow of the campfire flickered a short distance away, casting shadows on the ground.

    Asael sat beneath an old oak tree, the massive roots curling around the earth like ancient veins. His gloved hand held a whetstone, methodically dragging it across the edge of his blade. Scrape. Scrape. Scrape. The steady rhythm was almost meditative, a habit he had long perfected.

    Then, the soft crunch of boots against leaves.

    His sharp eyes flicked up. A messenger, clad in the royal insignia, approached with careful steps. Without a word, the man extended a sealed letter.

    The moment Asael caught sight of the Crown Prince¡¯s crest, his expression darkened.

    Not ''him'' again.

    A sigh of annoyance escaped his lips, but he still reached for the parchment, turning it over in his hands. He had no interest in whatever plea or command the prince had written this time.

    He was about to shove it aside when he noticed something odd. The paper felt damp.

    His brows furrowed slightly. He tilted the letter under the moonlight, noticing a faint, almost dried crimson stain near the edges.

    Blood?

    A strange feeling curled in his chest, but he ignored it.

    "Tch. Probably another useless request."

    Without giving it another glance, he shoved the letter into his robes, returning to sharpening his blade.

    That was his first mistake.

    That was the moment he sealed his fate.

    Asael, ever the cautious one, keeps his unease hidden beneath a composed expression. They move toward the mission site, an abandoned fortress at the edge of the kingdom. The wind howls between the broken stone walls, carrying whispers that only Asael seems to hear.

    Something is wrong.

    The map they received is slightly altered from what he remembers. The pathways seem too convenient. The enemy presence is oddly scarce. It¡¯s almost as if... someone had cleared the way for them.

    And yet, Ashen walks beside him, smiling softly, speaking in the same voice that once made Asael feel at ease. The flickering torchlight dances against Ashen¡¯s face, casting shadows Asael swears weren¡¯t there before.

    If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.

    "You¡¯re overthinking, Asael," Ashen chuckles, eyes gleaming. "For once, can¡¯t you just enjoy a mission that goes smoothly?"

    Asael¡¯s hand tightens around his sword hilt. "Smooth missions don¡¯t exist," he murmurs, but he allows himself to relax¡ªjust a little.

    And that¡¯s his second mistake.

    The ambush happens too quickly.

    A series of thuds echo through the fortress halls¡ªdoors locking into place. The few knights Asael trusted are nowhere to be seen. The soldiers behind him are suddenly grinning, blades already drawn.

    And then¡ªAshen moves.

    Not to fight.

    Not to defend.

    But to step away.

    The very presence Asael once found warmth in is now standing against him, watching as the so-called ¡®loyal¡¯ soldiers turn their blades toward him. A slow, knowing smirk plays on Ashen¡¯s lips.

    "Asael," Ashen¡¯s voice is like velvet, smooth and betraying nothing. "Didn¡¯t I tell you to enjoy this mission?"

    Asael''s world shatters. As Ashen slowly stepped into the shadows leaving Asael there surrounded.

    The battle raged on, a storm of magic and steel. Asael fought desperately, his movements sharp yet slowing, his body screaming in agony from the countless wounds that marred his once-pristine form. Blood dripped from his fingertips, staining the hilt of his fine crystal-forged sword. The once-magnificent glow of his spiritual mana flickered weakly, like a dying flame against the howling winds of betrayal.

    His trusted knights¡ªthose who had sworn loyalty to him, who had ridden into battle alongside him countless times¡ªfell one by one. Crimson painted the ruined ground, bodies piled in grotesque shapes, their expressions frozen in shock and horror. Their cries echoed in Asael¡¯s ears, a haunting melody of agony and despair.

    He barely registered the spells cast against him, his body moving purely on instinct, dodging and countering, his long silver-white hair whipping around him like a ghostly veil. But the weight of exhaustion, of betrayal, bore down on him. His knees threatened to buckle, his vision blurred. Where was Ashen go? The one person Asael trusted more than anyone, the one person he had bared his soul to¡ªwhere was he?

    A sharp laugh cut through the night, sending chills down Asael¡¯s spine. His breath hitched as he turned, his stormy gray eyes locking onto a figure emerging from the shadows, arms crossed, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips.

    ¡°Ash¡­?¡±

    Asael¡¯s voice came out hoarse, barely above a whisper. His grip on his sword faltered as realization crashed over him, colder than any blade that had torn into his flesh. The mocking glint in Ashen¡¯s amber eyes, the cruel twist of his lips¡ªthis wasn¡¯t the man he trusted, the man he¡­ loved.

    The moment stretched between them, suffocating. And then, Ashen took a step forward, his voice smooth, sickly sweet. ¡°You¡¯re still standing? Impressive. But honestly¡­ you should have died long ago.¡±

    Asael¡¯s breath stilled, his heartbeat roaring in his ears. ¡°...What?¡±

    Ashen chuckled, shaking his head in mock pity. ¡°Poor Asael. So righteous. So loyal. So¡­ blind.¡± He took another step closer, tilting his head as if inspecting a dying animal. ¡°You actually thought I was on your side? That I cared?¡± His expression shifted, eyes darkening with something cruel, something wicked. ¡°You really are a fool, trusting me too much..¡±

    A cold shiver ran down Asael¡¯s spine. No. No, this wasn¡¯t real. Ashen was his partner, his closest confidant. He had been there through everything, through the victories, the hardships, the quiet moments under the stars. This wasn¡¯t real. It couldn¡¯t be.

    But then Ashen¡¯s smirk widened, and the final blow came, not through steel¡ªbut words. ¡°You even dared to fall for me, didn¡¯t you?¡±

    Silence.

    Asael¡¯s breath caught in his throat. His heart clenched, a sharp, unbearable ache spreading through his chest. His fingers curled against his bloodied robes as if trying to grasp at something, anything, to ground himself. Ashen knew. He had known all along.

    And yet, he had never cared.

    A slow, cruel chuckle spilled from Ashen¡¯s lips. ¡°You should see your face right now. So pathetic.¡± He leaned in slightly, his voice lowering into a taunting whisper. ¡°Did you really think I¡¯d ever see you as anything more than a tool? Did you really think I would return your feelings?¡±

    A tremor passed through Asael¡¯s body. His world tilted, spinning into chaos. Everything¡ªthe trust, the bond, the silent glances, the whispered promises, all of it had been a lie.

    And before he could fully process it, a sudden, searing pain erupted in his chest.

    A choked gasp tore from Asael¡¯s lips. His stormy gray eyes widened in agony as he felt the cold bite of steel piercing through his body. Time slowed. The pain was unlike anything he had ever known¡ªsharp, burning, merciless. His fingers twitched, trying to reach for something, someone.

    His sword slipped from his grasp, the once-pristine crystal blade clattering uselessly against the blood-soaked ground.

    Crimson dripped from his lips, soaking his robes, staining his trembling fingers as he reached weakly toward Ashen¡ªtoward the man who had just driven a blade through his chest.

    Ashen twisted the sword.

    Asael convulsed, a strangled cry escaping him as blood splattered across the ruins. The agony was unbearable, a white-hot fire consuming him from within. His breath came in ragged, uneven gasps. His legs gave out, and he collapsed to his knees, hands clutching at the wound as if he could somehow hold himself together.

    Ashen knelt down, his voice a whisper against Asael¡¯s ear. ¡°You were in my way.¡± He pulled the blade free in one swift, merciless motion, and Asael coughed violently, his vision darkening at the edges. Blood poured freely, staining the ground beneath him.

    Distantly, through the ringing in his ears, he heard murmurs¡ªlaughter, voices whispering in triumph. And then, just before the darkness swallowed him whole, a few broken words reached his slowly fading consciousness.

    ¡°...Crown prince¡­ knew¡­ dead¡­¡±

    His thoughts spun in chaos. The crown prince? What did he know? Why was he mentioned now?

    His vision blurred. His body slowly grew cold.

    The last thing he saw before the world faded was Ashen¡¯s retreating figure, bathed in the eerie glow of the moonlight, surrounded by the victorious laughter of traitors.

    The distant sound of galloping hooves reached Asael¡¯s fading consciousness, muffled and hazy, as though it belonged to another world. His eyelids, heavy with exhaustion, barely lifted. Darkness tugged at the edges of his vision, urging him to let go.

    The rhythmic pounding of horseshoes grew louder, closer¡ªthen a sudden, frantic halt. Boots struck the bloodied ground in hurried steps, splashing through crimson pools as a voice, filled with urgency and desperation, called his name.

    "ASAEL!"

    The voice¡ªfamiliar, yet distant, as if spoken from behind a veil of mist¡ªtore through the cold silence. He wanted to respond, to acknowledge whoever it was, but his lips refused to move. His body was no longer his to control.

    "ASAEL!"

    A frantic rustling followed, bodies being turned over, the sound of someone stumbling through the sea of fallen knights. Another cry, louder this time, raw with emotion.

    "ASAEL!"

    A pause. A sharp intake of breath. Then the sound of hurried footsteps¡ªrushed, desperate¡ªbefore the warmth of a trembling hand touched his bloodied face. A choked sob broke through the air.

    "No¡­ No, please¡­ NO!"

    A strong grip wrapped around his cold, lifeless body, pulling him into an embrace, cradling him as though trying to shield him from death itself. The person trembled against him, their voice shaking, whispering words filled with sorrow.

    "I should¡¯ve been here. I should¡¯ve been earlier¡­ I¡¯m sorry. I¡¯m so sorry, Asael."

    Asael felt¡­ warm. Despite the creeping numbness, despite the cold that had settled deep into his bones, there was warmth in this person¡¯s desperate embrace, in the way they clung to him as if refusing to let him go.

    With the last of his strength and spiritual mana, Asael forced his eyes open, just enough to see the glint of a jade pendant swaying above him¡ªa stormy gray gemstone, a reflection of his own eyes. It shimmered against the blood-soaked ruins, and beyond it, blurred by tears and darkness, was a face¡­

    Who¡­?

    His vision wavered. The person holding him sobbed uncontrollably, gripping his lifeless hand. His name was spoken again, softer now, breaking under the weight of grief.

    A single tear slipped from the corner of Asael¡¯s eye, falling onto the blood-drenched earth beneath him.

    Then, something bloomed.

    From the pool of his spilled blood, delicate petals unfurled¡ªred with white-tipped edges, small at first but spreading, growing, weaving through the ruins like a silent requiem for the fallen.

    The moment was suffocating in its beauty and its sorrow.

    The mysterious figure, still holding Asael¡¯s lifeless form, let out a scream¡ªa sound so full of anguish and despair that it echoed through the ruins, carrying with it the weight of a grief that could never be undone.

    And then, silence.

    The ruins, once a battlefield, became a graveyard.

    The red-and-white flowers continued to bloom.

    The identity of the one who wept over Asael¡¯s cold body remained unknown.

    TO BE CONTINUED. tell me what you think about this chapter :)

 CHAPTER 002(The Aftermath)

    Enjoy this chapter and don''t forget to comment :)

    The sound of hooves pounding against the earth echoed through the dense forest, the night still thick with the scent of blood and smoke. Ashen Vilebane rode at the head of his men, his cloak billowing behind him as the weight of victory pressed upon his shoulders¡ªnot as a burden, but as a triumphant crown. The infamous Asael Kian Ravenwood, the strongest sorcerer, had finally fallen, and by his hand no less.

    A smirk tugged at the corner of Ashen¡¯s lips as he reached the hidden encampment. The moment he dismounted, he reached for parchment and ink, his fingers trembling with exhilaration as he scrawled a letter to his benefactors. Every stroke of his pen bled satisfaction:

    To the Esteemed Circle,

    The thorn in our path has been uprooted. Asael Kian Ravenwood has drawn his last breath, his body left amidst the ruins as an offering to the past. With his downfall, nothing stands in the way of our ascension. Prepare for the next step.

    Vilebane.

    As the ink dried, laughter and cheers erupted around him. Goblets clashed, the scent of roasted meat filled the air, and faces alight with revelry toasted to the death of a legend. Ashen basked in the warmth of their celebration, yet a peculiar sensation brushed against his mind. Something unsettling. Something unfinished. He dismissed it as the remnants of battle and drank deep from his cup, reveling in the moment.

    Far from the jubilant echoes of Ashen¡¯s camp, the Ravenwood estate stood cloaked in uneasy silence. Lord and Lady Ravenwood sat in the grand hall, their expressions tense as if unseen hands pressed upon their chests.

    A delicate porcelain cup slipped from trembling fingers, shattering against the marble floor. The sound rang louder than it should have, sending a shiver through the room.

    ¡°Mother¡­ Father¡­¡± The young voice of Elaria Merinda Ravenwood, only eighteen, broke the silence. Her wide eyes darted between them, uncertainty clouding her features. ¡°Why do I feel¡­ like something terrible has happened?¡±

    Lady Ravenwood¡¯s grip on her embroidery tightened, the needle pricking her finger without her noticing. Lord Ravenwood exhaled deeply, placing a steadying hand on his daughter¡¯s shoulder, but he had no words of comfort to offer. He too felt it¡ªthe ominous void that had settled within his heart.

    Back at the ruins where betrayal and blood intertwined, silence reigned. The air was thick with an unnatural stillness, the echoes of agony lingering like whispers from the dead. The massacre site, once teeming with life, was now abandoned to time.

    But not entirely.

    A lone figure knelt beside a lifeless body, his trembling fingers ghosting over the silver-white strands of hair now matted with blood. Crimson still pooled beneath Asael¡¯s unmoving form, yet there was a fragile peace in his expression¡ªhis stormy gray eyes forever closed.

    Tears slipped down the unknown man¡¯s face, unnoticed even by himself. He leaned forward, pressing a reverent kiss against Asael¡¯s forehead, his breath shuddering.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± came the whisper, barely louder than the wind.

    Then, with reluctance weighing his every movement, he lifted Asael¡¯s body from the blood-soaked ground and laid him gently upon the ruins¡¯ stone floor, Asael long crystal sword lay beside him become dimmed no light or shimmers. The glow of the moon illuminated his face for only a moment before he turned away, retreating into the shadows.

    Mounting his horse, the figure wiped the last remnants of sorrow from his face, though his heart still bled. Behind him, his trusted men followed in silence, their grief as heavy as the forbidden ruins left behind.

    And so, the land that had witnessed treachery sealed itself away, forever untouched, forever cursed.

    And Asael Kian Ravenwood was no more¡­ or so the world believed.

    But one thought remain in that person''s mind, ''I promise to avenged you, Kian..''

    Letter to King Themis

    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    Your Majesty King Themis, Ruler of the Great Kingdom,

    It is with the heaviest heart that I, Ashen Vilebane, write to you today. My hands tremble as I recount the tragedy that has befallen our beloved Asael Kian Ravenwood, the brightest star of this kingdom.

    During our final mission, we were ambushed by a horde of treacherous sorcerers who sought to end the very foundations of our order. Outnumbered and cornered, Asael, in his boundless courage, stood between me and certain death. He fought valiantly, wielding his mighty magic and blade against the overwhelming darkness. But even the strongest can only hold out for so long. With his last breath, he shielded me from a fatal strike, ensuring my survival while sacrificing his own.

    Your Majesty, Asael''s final words were of duty, of love for his kingdom, and for you¡ªhis most revered mentor and father figure. He died a hero, protecting not only me but the honor of this kingdom. I can only wish that my words bring even a fraction of the justice his deeds deserve.

    His remains could not be retrieved, for the battlefield was left in ruins, swallowed by an unknown force. A memorial should be held in his honor, for he was not only the kingdom¡¯s strongest sorcerer but also its greatest protector.

    I grieve alongside you, Your Majesty, and I vow to uphold his legacy with every fiber of my being.

    With the deepest sorrow, Ashen Vilebane

    <hr>

    Letter to the Ravenwood Estate

    To the Most Esteemed Lord and Lady Ravenwood,

    It pains me beyond words to be the bearer of such devastating news. Your beloved son, Asael Kian Ravenwood, met his untimely end during our final mission.

    He fought with unmatched bravery, standing against impossible odds. When the enemy forces sought to strike me down, Asael intervened, sacrificing himself so that I might live. His last words were of love for his family, for you, dear Lord and Lady Ravenwood, and for his precious younger sister, Lady Elaria Merinda Ravenwood.

    Though I know no words can ease your pain, please believe that Asael''s sacrifice was not in vain. He was not only my closest comrade but my dearest friend. I will ensure his name is honored and remembered forever. His loss is a wound that will never heal.

    I grieve with you, and I beg for your forgiveness for failing to protect him as he protected me.

    With deepest condolences, Ashen Vilebane

    <hr>

    The Reaction of King Themis

    The grand hall of the palace was eerily silent as the royal messenger presented the letter to King Themis. The moment his eyes scanned the words detailing Asael¡¯s death, his hands clenched the parchment so tightly it crumpled in his grasp. A thunderous silence filled the chamber before a deafening crash echoed as Themis slammed his fist against the armrest of his throne.

    "No..." The word was whispered, yet it carried the weight of heartbreak. His breathing became ragged, his eyes stinging with an unfamiliar wetness. "My son¡­ my Asael..."

    The ministers and knights present bowed their heads, not daring to speak. To them, Asael had been more than a warrior; he had been the adopted son of their king, the pride of the kingdom.

    The Crown Prince, who had been quietly observing, took the letter from the king¡¯s trembling hand. His oceanic blue eyes flickered with unreadable emotions as he skimmed through the words. A scoff left his lips before he set the letter down on the polished table. He did not believe a single word.

    Without a word, he turned on his heels, walking away as he grasped his collar, trying to steady his breath. His fists clenched at his sides. Something about this didn¡¯t sit right with him. And he would find out the truth, no matter what it took.

    Chaos at the Ravenwood Estate

    The moment the letter arrived at the Ravenwood estate, chaos erupted like a storm tearing through a calm sea.

    Lady Evelyn Ravenwood barely made it through the first few lines before a sharp cry left her lips, and she collapsed onto the grand hall¡¯s marble floor. Maids and servants rushed forward, their panicked voices calling for help. Lord Ravenwood¡¯s face drained of color as he clutched his chest, his breath coming in heavy gasps as though he had been struck by a fatal blow.

    The letter slipped from his trembling fingers, falling to the ground like a death sentence.

    ¡°No... this can¡¯t be¡­ not my son,¡± he murmured, his voice hoarse with disbelief.

    A loud, heart-wrenching sob tore through the air as Elaria Merinda Ravenwood dropped to her knees. The porcelain cup she had been holding slipped from her grasp, shattering into pieces upon the floor. Tears streamed down her delicate face as she shook her head violently, her hands clutching the letter as though doing so would change its contents.

    "No! This is a lie! My brother can¡¯t be gone! He promised¡ªhe promised he''d return!" she wailed, rocking back and forth, her grief too immense to contain.

    Her cries echoed through the halls of the estate, shaking even the most hardened warriors of the Ravenwood household. The news spread like wildfire, bringing the entire estate to its knees in mourning.

    A Sealed Kingdom and a Departing Figure

    Far away before the chaos, within the ruins where the massacre had taken place, an eerie silence lingered. A powerful force had sealed the land, ensuring no one could enter nor uncover the truth buried within the blood-stained soil.

    Amidst the lifeless corpses, a lone figure knelt, gently cradling Asael¡¯s cold body. The person''s fingers trembled as they brushed strands of silver-white hair away from the sorcerer¡¯s pale face.

    A kiss, featherlight and filled with sorrow, was placed upon Asael¡¯s forehead. Then, hesitantly, with a final lingering gaze, the figure rose and mounted their horse.

    Behind them, a retinue of loyal warriors followed in silence, their grief palpable.

    The figure¡¯s eyes, brimming with unspoken emotions, never looked back. But even as they rode away, a single tear slipped free, trailing down their face as the ruins of the fallen kingdom disappeared into the distance.

    A crimson and white bloom, born from the blood of the departed, spread across the land where Asael had taken his last breath¡ªa silent memorial to the one they had lost.

    And in the depths of the wind, an anguished scream of grief echoed, one that no one would ever know the origin of.

    To be continued.

 CHAPTER 003(A slumber before Rebirth)

    Enjoy this chapter and don''t forget to comment :)

    6 months passed¡­

    A deep abyss. A chilling void. Asael finds himself floating in endless darkness. He sees fragments of his past flickering before him¡ªhis sword clashing against enemies, his trusted knights falling one by one, his blood staining the earth, and finally... Ashen¡¯s cold smirk as he twisted the blade in Asael¡¯s chest. The agony of betrayal burns like fire in his fading consciousness. Then, an image. A man with oceanic blue eyes¡ªThe Crown Prince. The moment when Asael told him he hated him, the pain in those blue depths, the small, sorrowful smile the prince gave in return. His little sister¡¯s laughter follows, bright and full of hope, waiting for him to return home. The memories swirl and fade, and as Asael reaches out, a single tear slips down his cheek.

    A soft whisper echoes through the void.

    "Will you allow yourself to be forgotten?"

    Kingdom of Salvation

    Then¡ªblinding light. A force pulls him forward. A new beginning. Passed by through the open window and goes straight to a person that laid motionless on the bed.

    Kael Liam Vladimir wakes with a sharp intake of breath. Cold sweat clings to his skin. His entire body feels foreign¡ªfrail, weak, as if it could collapse at any moment. His chest rises and falls rapidly as unfamiliar sensations flood his mind. Yet, his memories remain intact. He brushed his hair forward that fell from his face.

    Asael Kian Ravenwood is no more. He has become someone else from the moment he gasped for air.

    He glances around¡ªa dimly lit, dust-ridden chamber, a bed far too small, and a cracked mirror reflecting his new appearance. Long black hair tied in a low ponytail, pale skin, and stormy gray eyes that still hold the sharpness of his past self. Same eye color he thought to himself seeing his eye color. But this body is feeble, aching with every breath. He put his hands on his chest feeling his own heartbeat in a new body and identity. The moment he felt the weak heartbeat his eyes shot open in disbelief.

    A seal.

    This word flashes through his mind when he felt his own heartbeat.

    He seems didn''t know this new identity he reincarnated as he slowly pull aside his blanket and get down from the bed barefoot towards covered mirror, he pulled the white cloth covered the mirror and look into it, there''s a crack on the upper mirror that shown his full body. What he saw on the mirror was a skinny body and pale skin wearing a long sleeve loose white shirt that showed his pale chest, tucked inside his long black pant that fitted his long legs, his hair was long and black a few strand hair falling from his head to his side cheeks, making him look ethereal despite looking sickly. While he still observing his new faces carefully he didn''t realized his door chamber was creak open.

    "Young Master Kael-", the servant froze when they saw him stood near the mirror looking at his own reflection. Then the servant recover and call him again, "Young Master Kael?!" this time a bit louder.

    This time Asael in Kael body turn his head calmly looking straight into the servant eyes without blinking, his stormy gray eyes seems cold, distant and confusion. This make the servant blood run cold seeing they young master eyes.

    "What did you call me?" Asael asked the servant who seems didn''t quite understand from his behaviour.

    "Y-young Master Kael" the servant says while stuttering.

    Asael nodded and mutter silently, "Kael¡­Kael Liam Vladimir?" he says and look at the servant who suddenly flinched when Asael look at him, and they nodded they head to Asael.

    Then the realization sets in. "Kael Liam Vladimir, the forgotten and useless young master of House Vladimir, so, I''m in a different kingdom," Asael calmly stating about his new identity making the servant look at him dumbly hearing they young master saying himself forgotten and useless.

    A sudden memory flashes about the original owner life, inside Asael head making him stumbled. His father, Duke Valdemar Vladimir, abandoned him emotionally after his mother¡¯s death. His stepmother and step-siblings see him as nothing more than a disgrace, a burden better left to rot in isolation.

    Pain flares in his skull as fractured memories surface. The original Kael was bullied, belittled, and left to fend for himself. The bruises on his arms, the cold meals, the whispers of servants¡ªit all paints a bleak reality. Asael slender fingers accidentally touch his chest skin where his heart was as he felt a scar left, slowly he remove the shirt that cover his chest, the moment he saw his scar on the chest, his heart felt pain when a memory from his past final moment emerged in his head, the scar was the same place where he was stab by his most trusted partner..or the person he gave his heart too¡­He still remember the desperate voice screaming his name and apologize to him, a sudden sad smile flashes at his lips while he closed his eyes and cover his chest. A thought crosses his mind, ''whoever it might be, I am grateful for they presence in my moments''

    "So, this is the life I¡¯ve been reborn into¡­" he murmurs, gripping the thin long sleeve shirt in his hands. Then he looked at the servant who seems dazed from seeing they young master smile few seconds ago. "Um, you what did you want from me earlier?" Kael asking the servant who regain himself back after in a state of dazed. "O-oh, how w-would you like for breakfast, in your room or with the Lord and and the Lady?" the servant says stuttering, while Kael calmly eyeing the servant and open his mouth, before he could another maid just open his door without knocking and this makes Kael annoyed feeling the maids and servant in this house really disrespect the original Kael. His eyes turned cold and the atmosphere inside his chamber change making the servant flinched and eyeing Kael who look like wanting to swallow those maid who didn''t pay attention to Kael.

    "You" Kael''s voice laced with annoyance, coldness, distant and anger that hides well in his eyes, calling the maids that really disrespect him. The maids then looked behind her before rolling her eyes towards Kael stare and continuing her works this makes the servant shiver when they saw Kael cold smile and walk towards the maids.

    The maids didn''t realize when Kael already behind her, "You" Kael''s voice was heard so cold when the maids looked at Kael she froze seeing the anger in Kael stormy grey eyes. "Is this how all maids and servants serve me, not respect me?" Kael cold words like a cold water being poured into the servant and maids body when they heard Kael''s voice full of annoyance and something they couldn''t put in. Kael''s eyes glared at the servant who begin to tremble before look down and nodded while stutter a yes. Then the maids spoke indifferently to him, "Everyone treated you like this you never complained." The maids spoke with arrogance but Kael''s cold smile caught her off guard when a sudden, slender fingers wrapped around her neck, strangle her. "What did I do to be treated like this? Is this because my own father and stepfamily treated me badly that all people here mistreated me?" Kael says almost choking the maids while the servant panicking seeing they young master rage for the first time. The maids struggling to break free from Kael grasped but she can''t. Kael''s eyes was eyeing the maid almost losing her breath, when Kael felt his chest hurting from the seal at his heart, he let go of the maids who fell onto the marble floor crying gasping for air, the servant rushed helping the maids.

    Before the maids and he servant get out from his room Kael spoke to them, "If any of the maids and servant who treated me the same like her-" he point at the maids who still cying, "They''ll know what I do" Kael says while pointing the maids neck that has a bruised from him choking her.

    Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.

    After cleaning himself and tidied his own formal attire, a black long sleeve loose shirt tuck inside his fitted black pants and a vest attach to his fragile body and walked to the dining hall with another servants who came after the other servant and maids left, this one particular servants seems respected him before saw what Kael done to the maids. The grand dining hall of the Vladimir estate was bathed in morning light filtering through towering stained-glass windows. The long mahogany table was lined with lavish silverware, steaming plates of food, and nobles dressed in fine silk and embroidery.

    Kael Liam Vladimir sat at the farthest end of the table, a place reserved for someone of no importance. His long black hair was loosely tied at the nape, cascading over his shoulders as he calmly lifted a spoonful of porridge to his lips. His delicate features remained expressionless, unfazed by the glances and murmurs directed at him.

    Across from him, his eldest stepbrother, Lucian, smirked before leaning forward. "Ah, the weakling graces us with his presence today. I was starting to think you''d wither away in your room like the useless thing you are."

    Kael didn''t respond. He simply continued eating, his slow, deliberate movements exuding an air of indifference. His silence seemed to irritate them more than any retort would have.

    His younger stepsister, Celeste, feigned a look of sympathy. "Father, shouldn''t we get dear brother some special treatment? He always looks like he''s on the verge of collapsing. I hear the servants have leftover scraps; perhaps those would suit him better than the fine meals you provide us."

    Soft laughter followed, the cruelty hidden beneath honeyed words.

    Duke Vladimir, the head of the household, finally looked up from his meal. His sharp, cold gaze settled on Kael with unmistakable disdain. "Perhaps they are right. What use do I have for a son who has inherited nothing from me? You are neither strong nor talented. Even the servants whisper about how pitiful you are."

    A familiar pain stabbed at Kael¡¯s heart¡ªnot his, but the lingering emotions of the body¡¯s original owner. He could feel the suffocating sorrow, the desperate yearning for approval that had never been granted. His fingers clenched slightly around his spoon, but his expression remained composed.

    "Since you find me so useless, perhaps it is best you stop acknowledging my existence altogether, Father," Kael said smoothly, his voice like a blade concealed in silk. "Oh, but then again, have you ever truly acknowledged me to begin with?"

    The dining hall fell into stunned silence. Lucian and Celeste gawked, their amusement frozen. Even the servants along the walls stiffened, their eyes darting between father and son. If Kael was humiliated he always keep silent and tremble but today is different.

    Duke Vladimir¡¯s expression darkened, his pride wounded by the audacity of a boy he barely considered his son. His grip on his goblet tightened before he suddenly hurled it across the table.

    The silver cup struck Kael¡¯s forehead with a sickening crack. A sharp pain exploded through his skull, warm blood trickling down his temple and onto the pristine white tablecloth.

    The impact forced his head slightly to the side, but Kael did not react beyond a slow blink. He lifted a hand, touched his bleeding forehead, and then looked at the crimson staining his fingertips. His lips curled into a smile¡ªnot one of amusement, but something colder, detached.

    "Young Master-" the servant behind Kael, worried voice was heard but Kael didn''t let him finish but instead he spoke.

    "Ah," Kael murmured, "How fitting."

    Duke Vladimir stood abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor. "You dare¡ª"

    Kael met his father¡¯s furious gaze with unwavering calm. "If I am such a disgrace, then why waste your energy on me? Surely, a ¡®useless¡¯ son like myself is beneath your anger, isn¡¯t he?"

    His words were deliberate, like slow venom seeping into wounds. He was no longer pleading for love or recognition. That Kael¡ªthe weak, forgotten young master¡ªhad already died but I feel his presence deep within my body a faintest light.

    The air in the room grew tense, thick with unspoken words and restrained fury. The servants exchanged nervous glances, uncertain of what would happen next.

    For the first time in his life, Kael Liam Valdemar did not cower. Making all the people that witnessed this seems shocked and puzzled, while some silently feeling proud at Kael.

    Instead, he smiled¡ªcold and knowing¡ªas if daring them all to continue their pathetic charade.

    Kael remained eerily calm as he stood from his seat, the crimson trickle from his forehead sliding down the side of his face. His pale fingers lifted slightly as if to wipe the blood away, but he made no move to actually do so. Without a single word, without even a glance back, he turned on his heel and walked out of the dining hall. His steps were measured, elegant even, as if he had merely lost interest in the meaningless chatter around him.

    The grand doors creaked open, and the moment he stepped past them, the concerned murmurs of the servants reached his ears. Their worried eyes flitted toward the wound on his forehead, but none dared to speak. Even as their hands twitched, wanting to offer aid, Kael continued forward without acknowledging them.

    Behind him, the dining hall fell into a suffocating silence. The tension in the air was thick, almost oppressive, until Duchess Evelyne, Kael¡¯s stepmother, slammed her hand on the table, her lips curled in anger.

    "That wretched child! Always bringing disgrace to this house!" she spat, her nails digging into the tablecloth. "What kind of son dares to speak so insolently to his father?!"

    Her daughter, Lady Celeste, smirked and picked up her teacup with delicate fingers. "He really does act like he¡¯s above us all now, doesn¡¯t he, Mother? What an ungrateful rat, being raised under this roof and still daring to bite the hand that feeds him."

    Duke Valdemar, who had remained eerily quiet, exhaled through gritted teeth, his fingers tightening around his wine glass. The veins in his hand were visible, a sign of barely restrained fury. "That boy... he¡¯s been nothing but a stain on this family since the day he was born. Had his wretched mother not been my legal wife, I would¡¯ve thrown him out long ago."

    A smirk spread across Lord Cedric¡¯s face, the second son, his dark eyes glinting with malice. "Then why don¡¯t you? No one would care if he disappeared."

    The Duke''s jaw tightened, his fingers pressing against his temple as if battling an oncoming headache. "Not yet," he said lowly, voice cold with finality. "The time will come when he is of no use to me, and when that time arrives, I will ensure he is far, far away from this estate."

    The room was filled with malicious satisfaction at those words.

    Yet, outside the doors, Kael walked on, his expression unreadable. He had heard everything. And instead of pain, instead of fear, all he felt was the faintest hint of amusement.

    Isolate me? He scoffed internally.

    They had no idea that would be the greatest gift they could ever give him.

    That night he adjusts, slowly to his new body. His body refuses to obey his will. Once, he was a sorcerer feared across kingdoms, but now, he can barely lift a training sword without his limbs trembling. Even walking down the hallways takes effort and more importantly the seal within his heart. Sitting crossed legs on the simple bed with the big window opened, Kael closed his eyes feeling every spiritual mana that flowed inside his body, and unconsciously his own spiritual mana from past life surface surrounded him without he even realized when a sudden pain shot from his heart making him spurt blood but he seems felt a little crack from the seal when he feel his chest.

    "This seal seems hard to break," he says to himself while wiping the blood from his lips and get up from his bed and walk toward the open big window, his long black hair swaying each step he took, where a gentle and cold breeze blew passed his face. A soft knock at the door pulled him from his musings, "Young Master Kael?" the servant from earlier morning. After Kael approval to come in, the servant opened the door with a creak before halt from his step, seeing Kael crossed arms stood infront of the big opened window a breeze gently blew his long black hair that left untied. "Young Master, this humble servant apologized but why you seems different?" the servant asking politely and making Kael look at him calmly before spoke, "It''s time to change, I want to get out of this estate¡­because this is what the original owner''s most desires¡­," Kael says but the last sentence in a quiet tone, the servant didn''t hear it but nodded agreeing. This make Kael form a faint smile knowing there''s some who cared about the original owner of his body.

    That night, the dim glow of candlelight flickered against the walls of Kael¡¯s small, unadorned chamber. The night air was crisp, carrying the scent of rain-soaked earth. The silence was comforting, yet the weight of his thoughts made it heavy.

    Kael didn¡¯t turn to face him. Instead, he spoke as if he had long expected the visit. ¡°Can I leave tomorrow morning without being noticed?¡±

    The servant¡¯s face tensed with unease. ¡°Young Master¡­ you know it is difficult. The Duke and his family barely pay attention to your presence, but if they find out¡ª¡±

    ¡°They won¡¯t,¡± Kael interrupted, his voice smooth, unwavering. ¡°I simply wish to take a walk outside the estate. Tell me, can I go?¡±

    The servant hesitated, shifting his weight before letting out a quiet sigh. ¡°Yes, you can. If you leave before dawn, no one will notice.¡±

    Kael gave a small nod, the corner of his lips curving ever so slightly.

    The young servant, however, remained rooted in place. His brown eyes held a sorrowful glint as he looked at Kael¡¯s frail figure, bathed in the soft glow of the candlelight.

    ¡°How unfair,¡± the young man murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

    Kael finally turned to face him, one brow raised in silent question.

    ¡°Young Master Kael¡­ you are like a delicate porcelain doll placed on an abandoned shelf, forgotten, collecting dust. You were born of nobility, yet treated as if you were a shadow cast by something greater.¡± His fingers trembled at his sides. ¡°They¡­ they should cherish you, not discard you as though you were an unwanted piece in their grand game.¡±

    A bitter chuckle escaped Kael¡¯s lips. He leaned back in his chair, his long black hair cascading over his shoulder. ¡°Cherish me?¡± he echoed, his voice laced with amusement. ¡°How foolish.¡±

    The young servant¡¯s eyes darkened, grief swimming within them. He opened his mouth as if to say something but ultimately bowed his head instead. ¡°I will make the necessary arrangements for your departure.¡±

    ¡°Good.¡±

    The old servant reached for the window, closing it gently to keep the night¡¯s chill at bay. He then stepped outside, shutting the door behind him with a quiet thud.

    Left alone, Kael exhaled softly, his gaze drifting to the ceiling. The candlelight flickered, casting long shadows that danced along the walls.

    How fragile this body was, how weak. Yet, within the depths of his soul, the embers of a past life still burned.

    Tomorrow, he would take his first step beyond this suffocating prison.

    For now, he allowed sleep to claim him, his thoughts drifting into the abyss of the unknown future.

    That night, Kael never expected to be haunted by his past life memories in his last moment.

    To be continued.

 CHAPTER 004(The Outside)

    Enjoy this chapter and don''t forget to comment :)

    The night was silent, save for the soft rustling of the wind against the wooden window of Kael¡¯s simple room. The moon cast a dim, silvery glow over the cold stone floor, but even its light could not pierce the darkness seeping into Kael¡¯s mind. He slept soundlessly, his breath steady, yet his subconscious was restless, stirring with memories that he wish he forget¡ªmemories that belonged to himself who had died in agony, betrayed and broken.A deep chill surrounded him. Then, the silence shattered.

    A sharp pain erupted in his chest, and Kael found himself standing in the midst of a battlefield, blood and death staining the earth. The metallic scent of blood mixed with the acrid stench of fire, the embers of destruction glowing in the darkness. He could hear the echoes of swords clashing, the cries of the fallen, the desperate gasps of those clinging to their last breaths. Yet his gaze was fixed only on one thing¡ªhis past self.

    Asael Kian Ravenwood lay sprawled on the cold ground, his long silver-white hair soaked with his own blood, stormy gray eyes dulled with betrayal and pain. A jagged sword was buried deep in his chest, twisted cruelly by the very man he once trusted.

    Ashen Vilebane stood above him, his expression twisted with satisfaction. The golden glow of fire illuminated his face, his crimson eyes cold and devoid of regret. He tilted his head, his lips curling into a sneer as he whispered words that burned into Kael¡¯s soul even now:

    <u>¡°You were nothing but a stepping stone to my victory.¡±</u>

    Asael¡¯s lips trembled, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth. His fingers weakly reached forward, but not for Ashen¡ªfor something beyond him. Yet his strength failed, and his body slumped, his vision flickering as darkness crept in.

    Then¡ªthe scene changed into the last fragments of Asael''s memory.

    A desperate voice.

    ¡°Asael!¡±

    Kael¡¯s gaze snapped toward the source, his heartbeat hammering painfully in his chest. A cloaked figure rode into the ruins, their black cloak billowing behind them. The figure leaped down from the horse, boots splashing into the bloodied mud as they hurriedly searched among the bodies.

    ¡°Asael! Where are you?!¡±

    The voice cracked with desperation, filled with sorrow so raw it sent a chill down Kael¡¯s spine. He watched as the figure, hands trembling, turned over fallen knights and soldiers, searching relentlessly.

    Then, they stopped.

    A breath hitched. A step faltered. A muffled gasp escaped as the figure stumbled toward Asael¡¯s lifeless body.

    The moment the hooded person fell to their knees beside Asael, a strangled cry tore through the silence.

    ¡°No... No, no, no¡ª¡± The voice broke, heavy with unbearable grief. Gentle yet trembling hands cradled Asael¡¯s blood-soaked body, their grip tightening as if trying to piece him back together. The stormy gray jade necklace around the figure¡¯s neck gleamed faintly in the dim light of the moon.

    Kael felt his chest tighten. The sorrow in that voice, the desperation in their touch¡ªit was real. This person had mourned him, had grieved for him in a way no one else had. He had died thinking he was alone, abandoned, yet here was someone who had cared enough to hold him even in death.

    A warm droplet landed on Asael¡¯s cold cheek. Tears. The cloaked figure was crying.

    Kael clenched his fists. He wanted to reach out, to uncover the hood, to see the face of the one who had called his name with such anguish. But his body remained frozen, trapped in this dream of his past, forced to relive his final moments without the power to change them.

    Then, the figure whispered shakily, ¡°If only... If only I had been faster...¡±

    A single tear slipped from Kael¡¯s closed eyes in reality as his sleeping form trembled slightly. The dream continued, the haunting cries of the cloaked figure echoing in the ruins of a life stolen too soon. Kael jolted awake, his breath uneven as his body trembled from the vivid dream. His heart pounded heavily in his chest, the remnants of Asael''s final moments lingering in his mind like an inescapable shadow. His stormy gray eyes, filled with unspoken pain, gazed at the ceiling as he tried to steady his erratic breathing.

    Rubbing his face, he let out a slow, shuddering exhale before shifting his posture. He pulled his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them, resting his chin against his folded arms. His gaze drifted toward the window where the dark sky stretched endlessly, stars faintly twinkling in the distant heavens.

    The memory of that cloaked figure haunted him. The desperate cries, the trembling hands that reached for his lifeless body, the stormy jade necklace that glimmered in the dim ruins¡ªthe sight made Kael¡¯s chest ache in ways he couldn¡¯t understand. Who was that person? Why did their voice feel so painfully familiar?

    His fingers curled slightly as he tried to grasp onto the fleeting echoes of the voice, but no matter how hard he searched through his memories, it slipped through his grasp like water. His brows furrowed in frustration, but deep inside, an overwhelming sense of sorrow gnawed at him. Someone had mourned him. Someone had shed tears for him. But he couldn¡¯t even remember who they were.

    He stayed in his curled position for almost an hour, lost in the silence of the night, before he finally moved.

    With a deep breath, he forced himself up from his bed, his bare feet touching the cold wooden floor. He needed to clear his mind. He needed to prepare. The estate still lay in a dead hush; only the faintest rustling of wind through the trees broke the quiet. It was the perfect time to slip away unnoticed.

    Moving to the basin, Kael splashed cold water on his face, washing away the exhaustion and the remnants of sleep. His hands were steady, but his heart was far from calm. Stripping off his nightwear, he stepped into the bath, letting the warm water envelop him. It soothed his tense muscles, but when his eyes drifted downward, they locked onto a deep, faded scar on his chest.

    For a long moment, he simply stared.

    The wound was old, the skin slightly raised and pale against his flesh. His fingertips traced the mark absentmindedly.

    "Here..." he murmured to himself, voice barely above a whisper.

    Right there¡ªright where Ashen had plunged his sword through him. The very spot where crimson had blossomed across his robes, where the pain had ripped through him like fire.

    Even in this new body, even in a different lifetime, the scar remained. A cruel reminder that even death did not erase the past.

    Kael''s lips pressed into a thin line. He forced himself to look away, submerging himself fully beneath the water for a brief moment before emerging with a quiet sigh. This life may have given him a new name, a new face, and a new body¡ªbut the past was still his. And no matter how much time passed, he would never forget.

    Kael moved toward his modest wardrobe, selecting the simplest attire he could find. A grey long-sleeve loose shirt, neatly tucked into black fitted pants, gave him a plain yet refined look. His servant had already prepared a simple black hooded cloak, which Kael draped over his shoulders, fastening it securely. His long black hair was gathered into a high ponytail, strands slipping through his fingers as he adorned it with a few small, simple accessories. To complete his disguise, he slipped on a pair of black boots that matched the rest of his outfit.

    Once fully dressed, Kael stepped before the mirror. His gloved fingers pulled the hood over his head, casting a shadow over his face. The dim candlelight flickered, revealing the sharp angles of his features beneath the cloak¡¯s shade. His breath hitched slightly¡ªthis reflection, this presence¡ªhe looked almost identical to his past self, Asael. A ghost of his former life stared back at him, unspoken emotions swirling in his chest.

    Breaking from his thoughts, Kael turned toward the young servant who stood nearby, watching him with quiet concern. "Bring me a piece of white cloth," Kael requested.

    The young servant hesitated, clearly puzzled by the request. However, without questioning further, he turned and retrieved a neatly folded strip of white cloth from a drawer, placing it into Kael¡¯s waiting palm.

    Kael unfolded the cloth slowly, running his fingers over the fabric before raising it to his face. With practiced ease, he secured the cloth around his eyes, covering them completely.

    "Young Master... why do you cover your eyes?" the young servant finally asked, unable to contain his curiosity.

    Kael remained silent for a moment, adjusting the knot behind his head. Then, he spoke, his voice calm yet unreadable. "This will make it easier to go unnoticed. No one will recognize me like this."

    The young servant studied him for a long moment before nodding. "I see. Indeed... it does suit you."

    Kael pulled the hood lower, fully obscuring his features. He glanced once more at the mirror, his hidden eyes staring back at the blindfolded reflection. He nodded slightly to himself, satisfied, before turning toward the door.

    With careful, deliberate movements, the young servant guided Kael through the quiet halls of the grand manor, their footsteps barely making a sound against the polished floors. At the very back of the estate, they reached the discreet exit where a simple carriage without a family crest awaited. A servant, already seated as the driver, adjusted the reins, ready to depart.

    The young servant stepped forward, opening the carriage door for Kael. Before he stepped inside, the young servant gave a slight bow. "Please be careful, Young Master. The town can be unpredictable."

    Kael paused, then gave the young man a small, appreciative nod. "I will."

    The young servant watched as Kael climbed into the carriage, his form blending into the darkness. With a quiet flick of the reins, the horses set into motion, pulling the carriage away from the Vladimir estate and into the silent, sleeping city beyond.

    As the carriage rolled steadily along the dimly lit path, the sky remained cloaked in darkness, a thin veil of mist weaving through the trees. The sound of hooves against damp earth echoed softly, but aside from that, the world was eerily silent. Too silent.

    Kael, seated inside the carriage, felt an unsettling sensation prickle at the back of his mind. Though his body was weak and fragile, his senses were sharper than most, an unexpected gift from the original owner of this body. His ears caught the absence of the usual nocturnal sounds¡ªthe rustling of leaves, the distant calls of animals, the whisper of the wind. It was as if nature itself held its breath.

    This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.

    His fingers tightened slightly against his lap as he called out, his voice calm yet firm. "Be on your guard. Something is amiss."

    The servant driving the carriage, a young man who had served Kael faithfully, nodded in agreement. "Understood, young master. I will keep my eyes open."

    Just as the words left his mouth, the carriage jolted to a sudden, violent stop. The force sent Kael slightly forward, and though he managed to brace himself, the abrupt movement made his weakened body tremble. He let out a slow breath, steadying himself before speaking again.

    "What happened?" His voice remained composed, though his muscles tensed in anticipation.

    The servant peered ahead, his eyes narrowing. "It seems a merchant''s carriage has been abandoned in the middle of the road."

    Kael remained silent for a moment before finally deciding, "Go check it. See if there is anyone in need of help."

    The servant hesitated briefly worried about the safety of his master, glancing back at Kael, but then nodded. "Yes, young master."

    Opening the carriage door, the servant stepped down first before offering Kael a hand. Kael, maintaining his usual poise, accepted the gesture and descended onto the damp ground with graceful precision. The scent of rain-soaked earth filled his senses as he stood still, his hood drawn over his head, his covered eyes giving him an almost spectral appearance.

    The servant quickly moved toward the abandoned carriage, leaving Kael momentarily alone. He listened carefully, his heartbeat steady, his mind already anticipating the possibility of an ambush.

    The young servant hesitated as he carefully approached the abandoned carriage, his heart pounding in his chest. The scent of iron filled his nostrils before he even reached the door. Blood. His brown eyes widened in alarm as he caught sight of a crimson stain darkening the driver¡¯s seat. His breath hitched, and without a second thought, he turned sharply toward Kael, shouting with urgency,

    "Young master! Step back! Be careful!"

    His panicked voice echoed through the quiet, tension-thick air, but Kael remained composed, standing still as if unfazed. Just as the young servant took a step forward, a sudden gust of wind howled past Kael¡¯s hooded face, slicing through the eerie silence. His instincts screamed at him to move, but his weak body barely allowed him to evade in time. His footing faltered, and he stumbled backward, losing balance. Just before he could collapse onto the damp ground, firm hands caught him¡ªstrong and steady.

    "Are you alright, young master?" The young servant¡¯s deep voice was filled with concern, his grip unwavering as he steadied Kael in his arms. Kael blinked beneath his cloth-covered eyes and gave a small nod.

    But before relief could settle, a sharp whistle cut through the air¡ªa small dagger, swift and precise, aimed directly at Kael. The young servant reacted instantly, his reflexes quicker than the eye. With a swift motion, he deflected the dagger with his own short blade, the metallic clang ringing into the darkness. His brown eyes narrowed as he glared toward the dense trees on the side of the path. Something lurked in the shadows.

    "Young master, I¡ª"

    "Go," Kael¡¯s calm but firm voice interrupted. "Find them. I¡¯ll be fine."

    The young servant clenched his jaw, his hesitation clear, but Kael¡¯s unwavering tone left no room for argument. With determination flashing in his eyes, he nodded.

    "Be careful," he muttered before sprinting into the dark forest, vanishing amidst the towering trees. "Don''t kill them," Kael says to the young servant who nodded.

    The moment the young servant disappeared, the distinct sound of metal clashing echoed through the night. Kael knew the fight had begun. But now, he had his own battle to face.

    Low, amused chuckles surrounded him, sending chills down his spine. Slowly, he turned his head to where the sound originated. Four figures emerged from the darkness, their eyes glinting with malice as they approached him like hungry wolves circling their prey.

    "Well, well," one of them sneered, crossing his arms. "What do we have here? A blind little noble lost in the dark?"

    Another laughed mockingly. "This is going to be easy. Just take whatever he has and be done with it. He¡¯s barely standing!"

    Kael remained still, his covered eyes giving nothing away. His expression turned cold, his lips curling into an unreadable smirk.

    "Easy?" he murmured, his voice dangerously quiet. "You might want to reconsider that." His tone was cold and distant just like his past selves.

    The young servant clenched his jaw, his grip tightening on his weapon as he faced five ambushers in the depths of the dark forest. Their movements were sloppy, but they still carried weapons¡ªdaggers, rusted swords, even a spiked club. The young servant didn¡¯t hesitate. He moved with swift precision, his blade dancing in the dim moonlight, cutting through the air as he deflected their attacks.

    A grunt, a sharp cry¡ªone ambusher stumbled back, clutching his bleeding arm. Another tried to swing at him, but the servant ducked low, sweeping the man¡¯s legs from under him before driving a precise strike to his gut.

    ¡°Damn it! He¡¯s too fast!¡± one of the ambushers shouted.

    ¡°You idiots, surround him!¡± another barked, but before they could follow through, the young servant¡¯s foot slammed into one of their heads, sending the man crashing into a nearby tree. Two of the remaining three backed away nervously, their weapons shaking in their grip. The last one dropped his weapon, raising his hands in surrender.

    The young servant took a step forward, scanning the area. That¡¯s when he saw it¡ªjust beyond the trees, a hostage bound and gagged, slumped against a cart. His expression hardened. He finished off the last two resisting ambushers, knocking them unconscious with precise strikes.

    Then, turning to the one who had surrendered, he ordered, ¡°Untie the hostage and then tie yourselves up. Don¡¯t make me repeat myself.¡±

    The defeated bandits wasted no time following his orders. Within moments, the hostage was freed, shaking and muttering his gratitude, while the remaining ambushers, battered and bruised, sat on the ground, their own hands bound behind their backs.

    Meanwhile, back in the clearing, Kael stood still as the first ambusher lunged at him. Unlike before, this time Kael was prepared. His body may have been weak, but his mind was as sharp as ever. He moved swiftly, sidestepping the attack just in time. His footwork was precise, his breathing controlled.

    The ambusher barely had time to react before Kael¡¯s hand shot forward, pressing force into the man¡¯s chest with a controlled burst of spiritual mana. The man gasped as an invisible force sent him sprawling onto the ground, unconscious.

    The other three hesitated, their smirks faltering.

    ¡°Heh, you really think we¡¯ll lose to some blind noble kid?¡± one of them sneered. ¡°That was just luck¡ª¡±

    Before he could finish, Kael shifted his stance, his fingers flicking in a fluid motion. A sudden pressure burst forth, invisible yet undeniable. The ground cracked slightly beneath his feet as two more ambushers were slammed backward, crashing into a nearby tree and slumping over with pained groans.

    The last remaining ambusher took a step back, sweat beading on his forehead.

    ¡°You¡­ y-you¡¯re not normal¡­¡± he stammered, dropping his dagger. ¡°I-I surrender! Don¡¯t kill me!¡±

    Kael¡¯s face remained impassive, though his chest burned, his throat ached¡ªhe was pushing this fragile body beyond its limits. But he would not show weakness. Instead, he simply gestured with his hand.

    ¡°Then tie yourself up,¡± he commanded coldly.

    The last ambusher scrambled to obey, his hands shaking as he secured his own bindings. Just as he finished, the young servant emerged from the dark forest, dragging the five other defeated ambushers with him. The freed merchant, though weak, trailed behind him.

    The moment the young servant saw the scene before him¡ªKael standing calmly amid his fallen opponents¡ªhis eyes widened in shock. His concern overpowered his amazement, and he rushed to his young master.

    ¡°Young Master! Are you alright? Are you injured anywhere?¡± His brown eyes darted frantically over Kael¡¯s form, his hands hovering as if afraid to touch him.

    Kael shook his head, though the motion made his vision blur slightly. ¡°I am fine.¡±

    But he wasn¡¯t. He could feel it¡ªhis chest seizing, his throat burning. He had pushed himself too far.

    The young servant frowned, unconvinced. ¡°But you look¡ª¡±

    Before he could finish, Kael opened his mouth to speak, but instead of words, a thick cough wracked his frame, and a deep red liquid spilled past his lips. The young servant¡¯s heart dropped.

    ¡°Young Master!¡± he shouted, his panic rising as Kael swayed unsteadily.

    The merchant, who had been watching, hurried forward. ¡°He¡¯s injured! I have potions in my carriage!¡± Without waiting for permission, he sprinted off to retrieve the remedy.

    The young servant caught Kael before he could collapse, his grip firm yet careful. ¡°Hold on, Young Master. You¡¯ll be alright.¡± His voice was filled with worry.

    The merchant returned moments later, pressing a small vial into the young servant¡¯s hand. ¡°This should help stop the internal bleeding.¡±

    The young servant wasted no time, carefully pouring the potion into Kael¡¯s mouth. The moment the liquid hit his tongue, Kael felt the burning sensation in his throat ease, the pain in his chest dulling slightly. His breath evened out, and his body, finally granted a moment of rest, succumbed to exhaustion. His eyes fluttered closed.

    The young servant let out a shaky breath of relief. ¡°He¡¯s just resting,¡± he reassured himself more than anyone else.

    With careful hands, he carried Kael into the carriage, laying him down gently on the seat. After making sure his young master was as comfortable as possible, he moved to the driver¡¯s seat.

    ¡°Let¡¯s move,¡± he said, his voice firm with newfound determination.

    With the freed merchant¡¯s carriage leading the way, they continued their journey toward the city, the sun barely beginning to peek over the horizon. As the nine ambusher was tied separately behind each carriage was running.

    And in the back of the carriage, Kael, despite his exhaustion, still clutched at the pain in his chest¡ªnot just from the battle, but from the memory of the past life that still haunted him.

    The flickering glow of candlelight cast long shadows across the grand hall as Asael stood before King Themis, his expression impassive as he relayed his latest report. The king, a regal figure with sharp golden eyes, listened with his chin resting against his knuckles, nodding occasionally at Asael¡¯s words.

    Just as Asael finished, the heavy doors burst open, and an all-too-familiar voice called out with casual arrogance.

    "Father! I heard Asael is here!"

    The crown prince, Rayne, strode in, his long blond hair swaying with each step. His oceanic-blue eyes shone with mischief as he approached with an air of careless ease. King Themis let out a deep sigh, rubbing his temples as if already expecting the disturbance.

    "Rayne, how many times have I told you to knock before barging into my study?" the king chastised, his tone exasperated yet weary.

    Rayne grinned, unfazed. "Oh, come on, Father. This is hardly a formal meeting." His gaze landed on Asael, and a slow, lopsided smile curved his lips. "Besides, I have something to discuss with Asael."

    Asael let out a quiet sigh, already irritated. "If it''s not important, leave. I have more pressing matters to attend to."

    Rayne gasped dramatically, pressing a hand over his heart. "You wound me! Must you always be so cold, Asael?" He leaned in slightly, eyes twinkling with something unreadable. "Are you really this heartless, or do you simply enjoy ignoring me?"

    Asael scoffed, his patience thinning. "Unlike you, I have responsibilities beyond idling away my days in luxury. If you have nothing of worth to say, don''t waste my time."

    The teasing glint in Rayne''s eyes dimmed slightly, though he still wore his usual smile. "You really have no patience for me, do you?"

    "No," Asael answered bluntly, his annoyance sharpening his tone. "You''re insufferable. No matter how many times I push you away, you keep coming back like a stray dog that refuses to learn. Don''t you understand? I don''t want you around."

    Silence followed. The words left Asael¡¯s lips before he could reconsider them. In his past life, he had thought nothing of it¡ªRayne was irritating, nothing more. But as Kael watched from his dream-state, he saw something he had missed before.

    Rayne stood frozen, his usual easy smile faltering. His fingers twitched at his sides, as if debating whether to reach for Asael, but stopped midair. His lips parted slightly, moving to form words, but no sound came out. His expression¡ªone that Asael had dismissed in his past life¡ªnow struck Kael deep in the chest.

    Was that...hurt?

    The memory played on, but Kael no longer heard the words. He was too focused on Rayne''s pained expression, something he had been blind to before. His heart clenched. In that moment, something unspoken lingered between them, lost in the space where Rayne¡¯s hand had hesitated.

    As the dream faded, Kael felt an ache he couldn''t quite explain. The weight of his past, the things he had once ignored, now settled heavily upon him.

    Perhaps he had been mistaken about more than just Rayne¡¯s shamelessness.

    Kael stirred in his sleep, his face damp with sweat as discomfort marred his usually composed features. His breaths came in shallow gasps, his chest rising and falling unevenly. In the depths of his dreams, echoes of his past life as Asael still lingered, the sight of Crown Prince Rayne''s pained expression imprinted vividly in his mind. His fingers twitched, gripping the fabric of the blanket beneath him before his body jolted awake.

    His breath hitched as he sat up, stray strands of his raven-black hair falling against his pale cheeks. His high ponytail remained neatly tied, adorned with subtle accessories that glinted under the dim candlelight. As Kael''s vision adjusted, he found himself in a simple yet well-kept inn room. His cloak, which he barely remembered removing, hung neatly on a peg near the door. His throat felt dry, and a dull throbbing pulsed in his temples. Slowly, he swung his legs off the bed and wobbled slightly as he stood.

    With unsteady steps, he approached the window, resting a hand against the frame for support before lowering himself onto the small stool beside it. The cool touch of the wood soothed him, yet the dizziness remained. Kael exhaled deeply, running a hand over his face, his thoughts still clouded with the remnants of his dream. Why did that memory unsettle him so much now? Back then, he never cared to look back at Rayne¡¯s expression after speaking so harshly. But now¡­

    A firm knock at the door snapped him from his thoughts. Before he could answer, the door creaked open, revealing his young servant, Quin, carrying a steaming bowl of soup on a wooden tray. Upon seeing his young master out of bed, Quin¡¯s expression twisted into a mix of concern and restraint, as if trying to control his worry.

    "Young Master!" Quin¡¯s voice was urgent but not loud. He quickly walked in, setting the tray down on the small table before Kael. "Are you feeling alright? Any discomfort?"

    Kael blinked at him before shaking his head. "I¡¯m fine," he murmured, though his voice was hoarse. "How long was I asleep?"

    Quin hesitated before answering, "The whole day, Young Master. It¡¯s already past six in the evening."

    Kael let out a quiet sigh, rubbing his temples. "I see."

    As Quin carefully ladled the soup into a bowl, he continued his report. "The nine ambushers have been dealt with. The local soldiers have taken them into custody, and we received a reward from both the soldiers and the grateful merchants."

    Quin then pulled two large pouches from his belt and placed them on the table in front of Kael. The distinct clinking of coins inside made Kael pause, his eyes narrowing slightly. Only now did he realize¡ªhe had left the estate without bringing a single coin.

    Before he could speak, Quin continued in a matter-of-fact tone. "One is yours, and the other is mine."

    Kael nodded in approval, about to reach for his share when Quin swiftly pulled both pouches open. Without hesitation, the young servant poured half of his own coins into Kael¡¯s pouch, effectively dividing the sum unevenly. Quin then secured the pouches and handed the heavier one to Kael, keeping the lighter one for himself.

    Kael stared at the pouch in his hands before glancing up at Quin, who looked completely unfazed. The realization hit him, and a rare cough of embarrassment escaped Kael¡¯s lips.

    Quin raised an eyebrow. "Young Master, don¡¯t tell me you left the estate without a single coin?"

    Kael pursed his lips and looked away. "...Perhaps."

    Quin sighed, shaking his head. "I thought so. Then, this should at least keep you from going broke too soon."

    Kael shot him a mildly exasperated look but accepted the pouch nonetheless.

    "By the way, Young Master," Quin spoke again, his tone a little softer. "I haven¡¯t introduced myself properly. My name is Quin."

    Kael nodded, his lips curving slightly. "Quin. Noted."

    With that, Quin excused himself, returning to his duty of guarding the door. As the room fell into silence once more, Kael remained seated by the window, absently staring out at the darkening sky. His fingers tightened around the pouch of coins, yet his mind was elsewhere¡ªback in the dream, back to Rayne¡¯s face and the way his lips moved, forming words that Kael never caught.

    Something about it unsettled him. He had always assumed Rayne was simply being a bothersome prince, but perhaps¡­

    Kael exhaled sharply, leaning his head against the window frame.

    What exactly had the Crown Prince been trying to say to him that day? This thought linger on his mind until he fell asleep on the table after sipping the warm soup Quin bought. The piece of cloth still covered his eyes, he never intended to removed it when he''s outside the estate.

    Kael slept peacefully, his breathing even, unaware that fate was about to reunite him with someone from his past. The dim glow of the lantern outside flickered against the wooden walls of the inn, casting long shadows that swayed like silent specters. His body, still recovering from exhaustion, remained motionless under the soft covers.

    Yet, outside his room, Quin stood still guarding Kael''s room.

    Inside, Kael stirred. A sudden chill ran down his spine, his body tensing even in sleep. A name¡ªunspoken yet deeply familiar¡ªechoed in his subconscious, stirring something within him. His peaceful slumber was soon to be disturbed, and with it, his fragile strength.

    "Rayne" a name subconsciously muttered in his sleep.

    To be continued.

 CHAPTER 005 (The Meet)

    SURPRISED HEHE...enjoy the chapter and don''t forget to comment and follow if this story piqued your interest.

    The next day, The Vladimir estate was calm in the absence of Kael Liam Vladimir. Yet, Duke Valdemar found himself uncharacteristically restless without Kael''s presence to humiliate. The usual tension that clung to the grand halls had dissipated, but in its place was an unsettling emptiness.

    Meanwhile, at the modest inn where Kael had taken refuge, the morning light filtered through the wooden shutters. His long black hair was in a disheveled state when he awoke, strands cascading over his shoulder as he pulled himself upright. Without much thought, he moved to wash himself, allowing the cool water to wake his senses. When he returned to his room, he found a fresh set of clothes neatly placed on the small wooden table¡ªa long-sleeved white shirt and a fitted pair of black pants.

    Kael donned the attire, the crisp fabric molding to his lean frame. He tucked the shirt into his pants before slipping into his boots. His fingers expertly gathered his long black hair, securing it into a high ponytail with a simple tie adorned with a swaying accessory. Lastly, he reached for the white cloth and methodically wrapped it over his eyes, securing it into a neat knot. The blindfold remained a part of his disguise¡ªone he wore with unwavering discipline.

    A gentle knock came at the door.

    ¡°Enter,¡± Kael said evenly.

    The door opened, and Quin stepped in, carrying a familiar cloak. He moved with purpose, draping the hooded fabric over Kael¡¯s shoulders before securing it with a firm yet careful touch.

    ¡°The innkeeper has invited us to join breakfast,¡± Quin informed, his voice light but tinged with subtle concern.

    Kael gave a small nod. ¡°Very well.¡±

    With practiced ease, Quin guided his young master down the wooden stairs, playing along with Kael¡¯s feigned blindness. Each step Kael took seemed to draw attention from the gathered guests¡ªespecially the young ladies and a few lords seated for their morning meal. He felt their gazes linger, intrigued by his mysterious presence.

    One step. Two steps. Three steps.

    As he reached the last stair, a voice cut through the murmurs of the inn, carrying an unmistakable weight.

    ¡°Lord Ashen, congratulations on completing the mission from the Third Prince.¡±

    Kael¡¯s body froze mid-step. A sharp breath hitched in his throat. The world tilted. His balance wavered, and before he could recover, his foot missed the step.

    Strong hands caught him. The grip was firm yet oddly gentle, as if afraid of breaking something fragile.

    ¡°Young Master!¡± Quin¡¯s voice was laced with panic.

    Kael¡¯s mind spiraled. His breathing grew erratic as he barely registered the concerned murmurs around him. Then, another voice¡ªone he knew all too well¡ªslithered into his ears.

    ¡°Thank you, Sir Xue. It is my duty to complete the mission.¡±

    The familiar cadence, the indifferent tone¡ªit sent a violent shudder down Kael¡¯s spine. Pain lanced through his chest, the old scar aching like a fresh wound. His grip on Quin tightened as memories surged, the cruel betrayal replaying like a cursed melody.

    ¡°Young Master Kael?¡± Quin¡¯s voice was barely above a whisper, concern bleeding into each syllable.

    The innkeeper approached. ¡°Young master, are you unwell?¡±

    Kael swallowed down the turmoil clawing at his throat and forced himself to speak, though his voice was weary. ¡°I¡­ I am fine. Just need air.¡±

    Quin didn¡¯t hesitate. ¡°Let¡¯s get you seated.¡±

    But fate had other plans.

    As Quin moved to lead him toward the nearest table, Kael unintentionally bumped into someone. He stiffened immediately and instinctively uttered a soft apology. But as he tilted his head up, the words died in his throat.

    His body tensed. His fingers curled. His breath faltered.

    Ashen Vilebane.

    Kael¡¯s knees nearly buckled as he leaned further into Quin for support. His heartbeat pounded erratically, drowning out all other sounds. The face before him¡ªso hauntingly familiar¡ªbelonged to the very man who had killed him in his past life. The very man who had ended Asael¡¯s existence in cold blood.

    A choked breath left Kael¡¯s lips, but he swallowed his panic and forced himself to maintain composure.

    ¡°I apologize,¡± he murmured, his voice steady despite the tremor in his soul.

    Quin, unaware of the storm raging within Kael, quickly added, ¡°My young master is recovering from yesterday¡¯s ambush.¡± The innkeeper nodded in agreement, further emphasizing Kael¡¯s supposed fragility.

    Ashen merely hummed, his tone carrying a faint hint of disinterest. ¡°It¡¯s fine.¡±

    But Kael caught it¡ªthe slight annoyance in his voice. Even after all this time, Ashen still sounded the same.

    ¡°Let¡¯s go,¡± Kael whispered, his fingers tightening around Quin¡¯s sleeve.

    Quin wasted no time, guiding him toward a table near an open window where fresh air trickled in. But before Kael could fully steady himself, his stomach twisted painfully. A wave of nausea struck him like a crashing tide.

    Then, he lurched forward, vomiting all of last night¡¯s meal.

    ¡°Master Kael!¡± Quin exclaimed, immediately rubbing his back in soothing circles.

    The innkeeper quickly poured warm water into a glass and handed it to Quin, who pressed it into Kael¡¯s trembling fingers.

    Kael barely registered it. His head spun as he collapsed into the chair, his hood casting shadows over his pale face. His covered eyes hid the torment that threatened to consume him whole.

    Ashen Vilebane was here.

    And Kael was not ready.

    To be continued....

    JUST KIDDING HEHEHE..

    Kael barely held back his nausea from meeting Ashen. He kept it to himself, willing his body to steady as he tried to regain his composure. But as he struggled, an image flashed across his mind¡ªa stormy gray jade necklace. His breath hitched for a moment before he exhaled slowly, his fingers unconsciously twitching. Just thinking about that necklace somehow gave him an odd sense of comfort. He didn''t know why, but despite it reflecting his own eyes on someone else''s neck, it made him feel at ease.

    As his gaze shifted toward the window where he had just vomited earlier, a strange thought surfaced. Someone out there was still thinking about his past self, even when he no longer existed as Asael. But he wasn¡¯t Asael Kian Ravenwood anymore¡ªhe was Kael Liam Vladimir from another kingdom. The past was buried, and he had no right to dwell on it.

    Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.

    Kael took another deep breath before turning his attention to Quin and the innkeeper, who both looked concerned about him. Despite the piece of cloth covering his eyes, he could still perceive the spiritual mana of those in front of him. His hood remained draped over his head, casting a shadow over his features. He offered Quin a faint smile, a mere ghost of reassurance.

    ¡°I¡¯m alright,¡± he murmured. ¡°Just feeling unwell earlier.¡±

    Quin studied him carefully before nodding, though his eyes still held doubt. Then, he hesitated before speaking again, this time more quietly.

    ¡°You know, Young Master,¡± Quin said, ¡°Asael Kian Ravenwood was once Lord Ashen Vilebane¡¯s partner.¡±

    Kael¡¯s faint smile faded immediately.

    Quin continued, voice steady but tinged with something bitter. ¡°He was¡­ a remarkable person. Everyone who knew him spoke highly of him.¡±

    Kael observed Quin¡¯s expression shift, his gaze darkening as it flickered toward Ashen¡¯s back. There was no mistaking the emotions in his eyes¡ªhatred, anger, and grief, all tangled together in a mess he likely didn''t fully understand himself. Quin¡¯s voice dropped to a whisper, barely audible even to Kael.

    ¡°I don¡¯t believe what that Lord Ashen said about Sir Asael¡¯s death.¡±

    Kael¡¯s fingers twitched, but he remained silent, listening intently.

    Quin clenched his jaw before he continued, ¡°It¡¯s impossible that Asael died just protecting him. He was powerful. A skilled swordsman. How could someone like him fall so easily?¡±

    Kael exhaled quietly, a rare, almost bitter smile forming at the corner of his lips. A smile he had rarely shown¡ªeven in his past life.

    ¡°Good point,¡± he replied, his tone unreadable. ¡°But¡­ there were no witnesses.¡±

    The innkeeper, who had been silent until now, suddenly spoke up.

    ¡°I¡¯ve always admired Asael Kian Ravenwood,¡± he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. ¡°I never got the chance to meet him, though. The day I planned to go see him, he¡ª¡± The man stopped himself, shaking his head with a sigh. ¡°It¡¯s a damn shame.¡±

    Kael felt something stir within him¡ªsurprise, perhaps, or maybe something heavier. He hadn¡¯t expected to be known here, in this kingdom.

    Quin, seemingly eager to add more, chimed in, ¡°I admired him too! I wanted to meet him, but I never got the chance either.¡± His voice softened. ¡°Even now, his grave is unknown¡­¡±

    Kael¡¯s fingers curled slightly on the table. Unknown, indeed. But he remembered it¡ªthe place where he had drawn his final breath.

    As the conversation shifted, he sat quietly, listening to Quin and the innkeeper exchange stories about him, recounting the good things about Asael Kian Ravenwood. It felt¡­ odd, hearing people talk about him in a way that was detached from himself.

    The food was eventually served, and Quin, ever the attentive servant, ¡®helped¡¯ Kael by placing food on his plate. The act made the innkeeper watch them thoughtfully before he finally spoke.

    ¡°Young man, do you need a special pole to help check the road ahead?¡± the innkeeper asked, his tone warm with genuine concern.

    Kael shook his head lightly. ¡°That¡¯s not necessary¡ª¡±

    ¡°Nonsense,¡± the innkeeper cut him off with a grin. ¡°You helped my son when he was attacked. Consider this my gratitude.¡±

    Kael sighed inwardly, realizing there was no way to refuse without seeming ungrateful.

    ¡°Then¡­ may I at least know the name of the generous innkeeper?¡± he asked politely.

    The man beamed. ¡°Ewald. Ewald Albrecht.¡±

    Kael nodded and reached out a hand to shake his¡ªexcept his hand extended in the complete opposite direction.

    A brief silence followed.

    Quin stared at him, then at Ewald, and back at Kael¡¯s misplaced handshake before immediately pressing his lips together, his face twitching as if holding back laughter.

    Ewald, on the other hand, simply stared in stunned amusement before he covered his mouth, clearing his throat.

    ¡°Uh¡­ I¡¯m over here, lad.¡±

    Kael smoothly turned his head as if registering the mistake, then redirected his hand correctly. He heard Quin make a small strangled noise beside him, clearly struggling not to laugh.

    ¡°Apologies,¡± Kael said smoothly, shaking Ewald¡¯s hand firmly.

    Ewald chuckled, shaking his head. ¡°You really do have it tough, huh?¡±

    Kael merely smiled faintly. ¡°It¡¯s manageable.¡±

    Quin, unable to hold back anymore, suddenly wheezed, covering his mouth. ¡°Young Master,¡± he gasped between muffled laughter, ¡°you looked so confident just now¡ª¡±

    Kael didn¡¯t react outwardly, but he knew Quin was thoroughly enjoying himself at his expense.

    Ewald chuckled as well. ¡°Well, lad, if you ever need anything, you just let me know. I owe you one.¡±

    Kael inclined his head slightly. ¡°I appreciate your kindness, Innkeeper Ewald.¡±

    As the conversation moved on, Kael could feel his strength slowly returning. Yet, deep down, the weight of meeting Ashen again still pressed against him like an invisible force. The stormy gray jade necklace lingered in his thoughts, a quiet comfort amidst the chaos.

    Kael placed a few silver coins on the wooden table, the soft clink barely noticeable over the murmurs of the inn. However, before he could push the coins toward the innkeeper, Ewald swiftly shook his head, a firm yet warm refusal in his eyes.

    "Keep your coin, lad," Ewald said with a chuckle, crossing his arms. "After what you and Quin did for my boy, a meal is the least I can offer."

    Kael¡¯s fingers hovered over the coins before slowly withdrawing his hand. "Then... I¡¯ll offer my gratitude instead. Thank you, Innkeeper Ewald."

    "Much appreciated, sir," Quin added, offering a small bow from his seat. "We won¡¯t forget your kindness."

    Ewald simply waved them off before excusing himself. "Let me fetch something for you, Kael," he said as he disappeared into the back.

    As the table was cleared by a passing servant, Kael turned his head slightly toward Quin. "Quin," he called, his voice steady.

    Quin immediately straightened up. "Yes, young master?" He met Kael¡¯s covered eyes, his gaze searching beneath the hood.

    Kael exhaled slowly. "I''ve come to realize something... You¡¯re skilled in combat. Quick on your feet."

    Quin stiffened. "W-What?" He blinked, caught off guard by the observation. "How¡ª?" He hesitated, then frowned slightly. "But my brother said you were..." Quin trailed off, recalling the words of his sibling. According to him, Kael was fragile, barely trained, and had only the most basic grasp of combat.

    Kael, as if reading his thoughts, gave a faint smirk. "My body may be weak, but my senses are not." He lifted a hand, as if gesturing vaguely. "I can feel it¡ªyour spiritual mana. Even with my eyes covered, I can still sense it."

    Quin¡¯s eyes widened slightly before he gave a slow nod. "That... does make sense," he admitted, his initial shock fading into understanding. "I do specialize in close combat and have decent reflexes, but my swordsmanship is lacking. I never had a proper teacher."

    Kael seemed to consider that for a moment before speaking again. "If you don¡¯t mind, I can point out some of your mistakes when training your sword techniques."

    Quin¡¯s mouth fell open slightly before his brows furrowed in confusion. "You... know about swordsmanship?"

    Kael let out a nervous chuckle, scratching his cheek lightly. "Ah, well... I read a lot of books when I was trapped in the manor." A blatant lie, but it was a believable excuse.

    Quin, however, didn¡¯t question it further. Instead, he leaned forward slightly, eyes shining with an unexpected excitement. "Then... would you really? Watch me train, I mean?"

    Kael gave a slow nod. "I will observe when you train."

    Quin grinned, clearly pleased by the offer. "That would be an honor, young master!"

    Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of boots against the wooden floor. Across the room, Lord Ashen and his entourage were preparing to leave. Kael tilted his head slightly, his covered gaze instinctively drawn toward the nobleman. For a brief moment, despite the cloth obscuring his eyes, he felt the weight of Ashen¡¯s golden gaze lock onto him.

    Kael remained perfectly still. Unmoved. Unbothered. Pretending not to notice. His head remained draped under his hood, and he exuded an air of calm indifference.

    The tension hung in the air for only a moment before Ashen finally turned away, stepping out of the inn with his men. A heavy silence followed, broken only when the inn¡¯s door creaked shut behind him.

    A deep sigh echoed from nearby. "Hah... Finally, he¡¯s gone."

    Kael and Quin turned their heads to see Ewald approaching with a long wooden pole in his hands. He set it down beside the table with a thud before plopping into the seat across from them, rubbing his temples.

    "That one... Lord Ashen, is it? I can¡¯t say I¡¯m fond of him," Ewald muttered, shaking his head. "Man¡¯s got the charm of a rusty dagger and the arrogance of a noble who¡¯s never worked a day in his life."

    Quin let out a snort of amusement. "That¡¯s putting it lightly, innkeeper."

    "Bah! I¡¯ve seen his type before," Ewald continued, scratching his beard. "The kind that walks into a room expecting the floor to bow before his boots." He waved a hand dismissively before glancing at Kael. "Anyway, here¡¯s a little something for you, lad. A walking pole. Thought it might help, considering, you know..." He motioned vaguely toward Kael¡¯s covered eyes.

    Kael hesitated before reaching out, his fingers brushing against the polished wood. "You didn¡¯t have to."

    "And you didn¡¯t have to help my boy, but you did," Ewald said firmly. "So, take it, no arguments."

    Kael pursed his lips before nodding slightly. "Then, I¡¯ll accept it. Thank you, Innkeeper Ewald."

    "Aye, that¡¯s better, " Ewald grunted in satisfaction.

    Then, just as Kael reached out to shake hands with the innkeeper confidently, he deliberately stretched his hand in the complete opposite direction.

    Ewald blinked. Quin coughed, clearly holding back laughter.

    "Ah... lad," Ewald said slowly. "I¡¯m over here."

    Kael, keeping up the act, frowned slightly and corrected his hand¡¯s direction. "Apologies. Hard to tell without sight."

    Quin¡¯s shoulders shook from suppressed laughter, and Ewald let out a deep chuckle, shaking Kael¡¯s hand firmly. "No worries, lad. You¡¯ll get used to it."

    As the three settled back, the air around them lightened. And for the first time in a while, Kael found himself relaxing¡ªif only just a little.

    To be continued.

 CHAPTER 006 (The Meeting II)

    ...enjoy the chapter and don''t forget to comment and follow if this story piqued your interest...

    Kael sat quietly, his fingers lightly tracing the rim of his cup as the innkeeper, Ewald, leaned back in his chair with a satisfied sigh. Quin, ever watchful, sat beside him, his keen eyes darting toward the innkeeper with curiosity.

    "Oh! I almost forgot!" Ewald suddenly exclaimed, slapping his forehead. "That pole I gave you, it has a little surprise. If you twist the upper holder¡ªhere, let me show you."

    Kael tilted his head slightly, listening to the soft shuffle of movement as Quin, quicker on the uptake, reached for the pole. His fingers found the smooth surface, and with a curious glance toward the innkeeper, he gave the holder a twist.

    A soft ¡®shiiing¡¯ sound cut through the air as a hidden slender sword slid free from the lower part of the pole. Quin''s mouth fell open, his eyes widening dramatically as he held the blade up to the light, admiring its sharp yet elegant craftsmanship.

    "By the spirits!" Quin gasped, his voice almost reverent. "This is¡ªthis is incredible! A pole that hides a sword! Young master, feel this¡ªit''s like it was made for you!" Is that a compliment or a teasing? Kael thought.

    Before either Ewald or Quin could react, Quin placed the hilt into Kael¡¯s hands. Without hesitation, Kael¡¯s fingers closed around it, feeling the balanced weight of the weapon. His grip was steady, unshaken, as if he had done this a thousand times before.

    "Young master¡ª! Careful!" Quin yelped.

    "Oi, don''t go swinging that around!" Ewald barked, half-rising from his chair, his face pale with worry.

    Kael merely smiled faintly, his fingers running lightly over the blade before nodding. "It''s well-crafted," he murmured, his voice calm, unaffected by their concerns.

    Quin hastily took the blade back and sheathed it, his expression one of exasperation. "You nearly gave us a heart attack, young master!" he muttered, shaking his head before securing the sword back into the pole.

    Kael turned his attention back to Ewald. "Are you sure about giving me something this precious?" His tone carried a rare note of gratitude, yet hesitation lingered in his words.

    Quin, still in awe of the hidden weapon, nodded in agreement. "Innkeeper Ewald, this pole¡ªit¡¯s too valuable. It must have meant something to you."

    Ewald simply shook his head with a chuckle. "Last year, someone gifted it to me, but to be honest, I never had a use for it. I run this inn, I don¡¯t go wandering around with weapons, and my son handles all the deliveries and imports. I figure it¡¯s better in the hands of someone who can actually put it to good use." He grinned, his easy-going demeanor putting the matter to rest.

    Kael thought for a moment before finally nodding. He wouldn''t argue further. This pole would serve him well, especially as part of his blind persona. He cast a glance toward Quin, who caught his meaning and smirked slightly. Only Quin knew the truth¡ªknew that Kael¡¯s blindness was nothing more than an act.

    As they continued their conversation, a familiar voice interrupted them.

    "Father!"

    They turned to see a young man approaching their table. His face was one of sincere gratitude, a warm smile spreading across his lips as he greeted them. It was Wallz, Ewald¡¯s son.

    "Ah, it¡¯s you," Quin said, straightening in his seat as Wallz reached them.

    "I just wanted to thank you both properly for what you did yesterday. If you hadn¡¯t stepped in, who knows what would¡¯ve happened," Wallz said earnestly, bowing his head slightly in respect.

    Kael simply nodded in acknowledgment, while Quin, ever the talker, responded. "We were just at the right place at the right time, no need for thanks. Besides, your father runs a fine inn¡ªit¡¯s only fair we return the kindness we¡¯ve received."

    Wallz smiled before his gaze shifted between the two. "So, where are you two headed?" he asked curiously.

    Quin gave a casual shrug. "I¡¯m taking my young master into town. Just to get some fresh air."

    This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

    As Quin spoke, Kael subtly reached out, his fingers skimming the table as though searching for his cup. Without missing a beat, Quin smoothly pushed the cup into Kael¡¯s hand, seamlessly playing along with the act.

    Wallz, noticing the gesture, blinked before exchanging a glance with his father. Ewald merely chuckled knowingly.

    "If you''re going into town, why not let me accompany you?" Wallz offered. "I know the best routes, and I can help you get around."

    Quin opened his mouth, prepared to politely refuse, but Kael let out a small cough. Quin hesitated before quickly understanding. With a resigned sigh, he turned back to Wallz with a smile.

    "That would be much appreciated, Wallz. Thank you."

    Kael, his hood still draped over his figure, remained composed. He had a role to play, and the world still needed to believe he was just a fragile, blind young noble.

    As the preparations for their departure began, he allowed himself a moment to think. The town would be a new setting, filled with new dangers and new opportunities. And with Quin and now Wallz by his side, the act would continue.

    For now, he was still Kael Liam Vladimir.

    And no one could know otherwise.

    Kael and Quin stood near the entrance of the inn, preparing to leave, accompanied by Wallz, the son of the innkeeper, Ewald. The midday sun cast a warm glow over the cobblestone road outside, while the gentle murmur of guests within the inn created a comfortable atmosphere.

    As Wallz adjusted the sleeves of his tunic, he turned to Kael. "Sir Kael, do you need help packing your things?"

    Kael merely smiled and shook his head. "No need. My things are inside Quin''s bag," he said softly, his voice light but calm. "Not much to bring."

    Quin, standing beside him, visibly tensed. His expression darkened as memories surfaced¡ªhis brother had told him about the cruel treatment Kael suffered in the Vladimir household. The thought of it made his stomach churn, but he kept it to himself. He exhaled sharply and forced himself to focus on the present.

    Wallz, noticing the exchange, fell silent for a moment. His gaze lingered on Kael¡¯s small smile, and a pang of sadness welled up in his chest. How could someone so kind and composed have so few belongings? he wondered. His father, Ewald, seemed to share the same sentiment, his eyes shadowed with thought.

    As Quin grabbed the small bag and secured it behind him, he suddenly paused and turned to Kael with a dramatic expression. Kael arched a brow, sensing the impending theatrics. "What is it?" he asked dryly.

    Quin clapped a hand to his forehead. "Oh no! I forgot something crucial, Young Master!"

    Kael''s lips twitched. "What is it this time?" he sighed.

    "The ointment!" Quin declared, as though announcing the discovery of a lifetime.

    Kael blinked. Wounds? Then he understood. Quin was referring to the injury from the other day where Kael father, Duke Valdemar throw a glass to him. He barely felt it anymore, so he waved a dismissive hand. "No need. It¡¯s just a small cut. It¡¯ll heal in time."

    Quin, however, was having none of it. "I was told by my brother to make sure I applied this to your wounds," he stated firmly, pulling out a small bottle from his pouch.

    Kael sighed in surrender. Arguing with Quin is a lost cause. He gave a slow nod.

    Wallz and Ewald, who had been watching quietly, perked up at the mention of wounds. Their gazes followed Quin as he prepared the ointment.

    Kael, resigned, reached up and pulled back his hood. A few loose strands of his long black hair fell across his pale cheeks, his striking features now visible to all. Wallz¡¯s breath caught in his throat. Even with his eyes covered, Kael possessed an ethereal beauty that seemed almost unreal.

    But what truly caught Wallz¡¯s eye was the small crystal butterfly dangling from Kael¡¯s hairpin, glinting under the soft light. That¡¯s¡­ exquisite, he thought.

    Before he could admire it further, Quin carefully parted Kael¡¯s long bangs, revealing a faint but deep cut on his forehead. Wallz and Ewald exchanged glances. The wound wasn¡¯t fresh, yet it was evident that Kael had been injured recently.

    Quin sighed. "Forgive me, Young Master." He dipped a cotton cloth into the ointment and gently dabbed it against the cut.

    Kael winced slightly but didn¡¯t complain. He just realize this small cut was painful too.

    "Almost done," Quin muttered as he worked, his movements careful and precise.

    Once finished, Quin smoothed Kael¡¯s bangs back into place before nodding in satisfaction. "All set."

    Kael exhaled and immediately pulled his hood back over his head. He could feel the weight of the guests¡¯ stares. Not wanting any more attention, he decided it was time to leave.

    He stood, reaching for his special pole that leaned against the table. As he moved, a sharp stiffness shot through his legs. His knee buckled slightly. Too much sitting¡­

    Quin noticed instantly and caught him before he could stumble further. He smirked. "Tsk tsk. Sitting too long has made you weak, Young Master. How pitiful," he teased, then leaned in and whispered mischievously, "Especially for a blind man."

    Kael stiffened, his lips curling downward. "Shut up, Quin."

    Quin bit back a laugh and helped Kael regain his balance before stepping aside.

    Ewald chuckled at the exchange and patted Kael¡¯s shoulder. "Take care of yourself, lad. A body like yours needs proper nourishment and rest."

    Kael nodded. "Thank you for your hospitality, Innkeeper Ewald."

    The older man grinned. "Anytime."

    Just then, from outside the inn, the rumble of wheels against stone signaled the arrival of a carriage. Ewald¡¯s family crest, the Albrecht insignia, was visible on its side. Wallz, who had stepped ahead, waved to them from near the window. "Sir Kael, Sir Quin, the carriage is ready."

    Before Kael could take a step, Ewald¡¯s voice stopped him. "Lad¡­ which family are you from?"

    Quin tensed. A shadow of worry crossed his face. Damn, should we tell him? He glanced at Kael, who was calm as ever.

    Ewald caught the hesitation and raised his hands. "No pressure, if you¡¯d rather not say."

    Kael tilted his head slightly, then formed a small, unreadable smile. "If I tell you, will you keep it a secret?"

    Ewald nodded firmly. "On my word."

    Quin hesitated before finally leaning in and whispering, "My master is from the House of Vladimir. The first wife¡¯s son¡­ Kael Liam Vladimir."

    Ewald went completely still. His mind reeled. The Duke Valdemar¡¯s firstborn son? He had heard of the rumors¡ªthe humiliation, the neglect¡ªbut never expected to meet the boy in person especially helping his son yesterday.

    His gaze flickered back to Kael¡¯s forehead. That wound¡­ His fingers curled into a fist.

    Before he could speak, Kael pressed a single finger to his lips, a small, knowing smile forming. "We¡¯ll meet again someday, Innkeeper Ewald."

    Ewald could only stare as Quin barely contained his laughter at the dumbfounded expression on the old man¡¯s face.

    With that, the two made their way to the carriage. However, instead of boarding the elegant Albrecht carriage, they opted for a much simpler one. Wallz wanted to protest, but the look on Kael¡¯s face told him it was pointless.

    "Fine, fine," Wallz muttered, joining them inside as Quin climbed onto the driver¡¯s seat and took the reins.

    As the wheels began rolling, Wallz turned to Kael. "So¡­ Sir Kael, have you ever visited the town before?"

    Kael, resting against the seat, simply shook his head in response.

    Wallz blinked. "That¡¯s¡­ surprising."

    Quin, from the driver¡¯s seat, snickered. "Get used to it, Wallz. Young Master isn¡¯t much of a talker."

    Wallz sighed, rubbing the back of his head. "Well, this will be an interesting trip."

    Kael merely tilted his head slightly, the pole resting beside him as the carriage continued its steady journey forward.

    To be continued.