The rain pounded against the windshield of the SUV, the rhythmic drumming blending with the low hum of the engine. Arthur sat in the back seat, his sharp eyes scanning the shadowy forest that lined the narrow mountain road. The lights of the convoy cut through the fog, illuminating a little the asphalt ahead.
His phone vibrated on his lap. A message from his aunt: "Stay safe, dear nephew."
The words felt hollow, like a blade pressed against his ribs. Trust has always been a commodity in Arthurs's world, and he was raised to trust no one, even his own family. But he also understands the importance of going to a safe place right now.
He was the heir of one of the wealthiest and influential families in the world, but that doesn't mean he was always safe. And specially now, one could say he was in great danger: his father, the head of the family, was just assassinated, and the elders of the family decided it was best to prioritize his well being while they conduct an investigation on the matter. And so, by the recommendation of his aunt, Martha, he was sent to this hideout, known by very little people. Nevertheless, he wasn't all too sure coming to this place was the best idea, specially because he isn't being accompanied by his most trusted men.
Suddenly, explosion hit without warning.
The lead car erupted in a blinding flash, the shockwave rattling the SUV and slamming Arthur forward against his seatbelt. A split second later, gunfire erupted, tearing through the night like thunder.
"Ambush!" the driver shouted, veering hard to avoid the flaming wreckage.
Bullets sprayed across the windshield, and the driver slumped over, a crimson streak trailing down his neck. The SUV spun out, crashing sideways into the trees. Arthur slammed against the door, pain shooting through his ribs.
"Move!" he barked, shoving the door open and dragging himself out into the rain.
The guards were already returning fire, their rifles barking against the darkness. Shadows moved among the trees, black-clad figures with silenced weapons, their precision cutting down his men one by one.
Arthur crouched behind the overturned SUV, pulling the pistol from his coat. He steadied his breathing, ignoring the sting in his side as he counted the attackers. Six, maybe seven. Too many.
"Flank left!" he yelled to one of the remaining guards, firing a volley to cover the man's movement.
The guard barely made it three steps before he dropped, a bullet ripping through his chest. Arthur cursed under his breath, pivoting to fire at the assassin who had taken the shot. His aim was accurate, the figure crumpling to the ground.
But there were more.
A figure burst from the shadows to his right, blade flashing. Arthur twisted just in time, catching the assassin's arm and slamming him into the side of the SUV. The knife clattered to the ground as Arthur drove his knee into the attacker's stomach, then fired point-blank into his chest.
Pain exploded in his shoulder —a shot from behind. He staggered, turning to see another assassin raising a rifle. Gritting his teeth, Arthur threw himself into a roll, firing as he moved. The shot grazed the attacker's neck, enough to drop him.
Another bullet tore into his thigh, sending him to one knee. Blood soaked his pant leg, and his breath came in ragged gasps, but he refused to stop. He raised his pistol, aiming for the next shadow that moved, and fired. The assassin fell, but not before another shot ripped into Arthur's side.
The world spun, the edges of his vision darkening. He collapsed against a tree, gripping the pistol with trembling hands.
"You fight well, My lord," a voice called from the darkness.
A figure emerged—a tall man in black combat gear, his rifle lowered but ready. Behind him, more assassins stepped into the light of the burning wreckage.
Arthur's lips curled into a snarl. "Martha." The name was venom on his tongue. "So, she sent you?"
Now he understands, the reason for his aunt's suspicious behaviour. She must have orchestrated all of this, and maybe even killed his father. He always thought she was greedy, her thirst for power and money more than once made her make irrationals decisions. But this? She must be truly insane to think it was a good idea.
The leader nodded. "She sends her regards."
Arthur spat blood, forcing himself to his feet. Every movement was agony, but he refused to kneel, specially in front of mere peasants. "If you think this ends with me, you're mistaken."
He fired, the bullet catching one of the assassins in the chest. He turned to fire again, but the leader's rifle barked, and another shot tore through Arthur's side. He staggered back, dropping to his knees.
The leader approached, standing over him. "Your defiance is admirable," he said, raising his weapon. "But futile."
Arthur's grip on his pistol tightened, and a laugh escaped his mouth. "She'll regret this."
The assassin didn't respond. The final shot echoed through the forest, and Arthur slumped to the ground, the rain washing over him.
Arthur started to lose conciseness, and the pain slowly faded, as his body started to shut down. The only thought that he had while dying, was regret for not being able to raise to power, and size every thing, making the world his own, as he believed was his right.
Fyranthis Empire.
The Fyranthis Empire was bustling with celebrations: the first prince was finally born. The commoners were happy, as not many understood the implications of such event. The scenario in the nobility was far more complicated. For some, it was a happy occasion, whereas, for others, it was terrible news.
"My lady, I've come with news from central palace," announced the head maid, kneeling before Charlotte Thalassar.
"Speak."
"His Majesty The Emperor ordered for the prince to be present in the incoming celebrations of his birth," answered the maid.
"How inconsiderate!," exclaimed Charlotte, with a sharp tone, "the prince is still too frigil to such things. Did you perhaps told His Majesty this?," asked Charlotte.
"I did, My lady, but my attempts to convince His Majesty were unsuccessful, as the doctor sent by the palace to assist in your childbirth said it was totally fine for the prince to do so. That wrench, his family is connected to the Third Wife, the one also pregnant with His Majesty's baby," responded the maid.
"So that mere Earl family thinks they can put my son's health in jeopardy? Send a message to my father this instant. We must put them in their place now. Nevertheless, we cannot afford to anger His Majesty now, specially during this crucial period, so we will have to go. Summon my family's doctor to assist me and the Prince," ordered the woman.
"Consider it done, My lady. Permission to leave?"
"You may."
The prince in the cribe was peacefully sleeping, but something mysterious woke him up.
Arthur felt strange, his body didn't feel the same; he felt small, too small. Soft, fragile, and utterly unfamiliar.
His eyes fluttered open, and a flood of light assaulted him—a golden light filtered through the crib. The air around him was cold and filled with the a scent of fresh flowers. Arthur blinked, his head aching as a fog clouded his thoughts; he felt… lost.
"What is happening, where am I?"
His thoughts raced, and he couldn't understand how or why he was here. The memories of the assassination were still fresh in his mind.
"How am I alive if I was surely killed?"
Suddenly, a voice cut through his confusion.
[Welcome, Host. Your are finally awake. To answer your questions, you have been selected by the system to reincarnate].
The words were not spoken aloud but instead revebertared directly in his mind, and the voice was sort of mechanical. Cold, devoid of a human tone of voice.
"Host?" Arthur said in his mind, still not really understanding what was happening.
[Yes. I am an Assistant System, created to help you in navigating your new life and the journey you have ahead].
"I reincarnated? And where exactly?," asked Arthur, unsure. His rational side was screaming, telling him this had a logical explanation, but couldn't really make sense of what was happening.
[Precisely, reincarnated. You are now living in the body of the first prince born in the Fyrathis Empire, located in the Central Continent, Arkaelos].
"And why is that? How did this happen?" inquired Arthur. He hated the feeling of being ignorant. Like he couldn't control his own predicament.
[Host, the universe is vast and more bizarre that you might think. But don't worry, you don't have to feel threatened, as I was created to assist you in your journey. I can't explain in details everything, because I am not allowed to, but know that who you were and what happened to you before dying, is part of the reason you were reincarnated].
"Well, I refuse your assistance, I don't need it," Arthur thought, though it was less convincing that he would have liked. His hands —small, chubby hands— clutched at the soft fabric on the crib he was lying in. This was impossible. He was powerful. He was Arthur, heir to one of the most influential families in the world. He didn't need help, he has always been alone.
[Host, you have no choice in the matter. But don't fret, as I will assist you in gaining the knowledge in this world. With your intellect and my guidance, you will rise to power in no time. Isn't it that what you wish the most, Host, power?].
An uncomfortable feeling ran trough Arthur: this "system" knew him, and it seems it knows his most deep and private thoughts. And he hated that, the vulnerability.
"And what is it you want in return?," Arthur thinks that nothing is for free.
[There is nothing the Host can offer this system in return of its help, as I have no desires of my own. I was created to assist, so that, maybe, you could say is my desire].
"And what is, then, the being that created you, desire?"
[…]
[What the Host needs to achieve without failure, is to rise to absolute power. Time will tell why].
Even though Arthur wasn't satisfied with the answer, he could understand he won't obtain more information than what he was already given.
"Then, explain to me what I need to know about this world. It's laws and dangers, what I should be wary of."
The system's responded instantly, almost like an obedient servant awaiting instructions.
[Understood, Host].
[First, the world you now inhabit is known as Yursmith]. The system began, its voice calm and detached, as if reciting facts. [It is an ancient realm where magic is the cornerstone of existence. The balance of power between the kingdoms is delicate, and it is this balance you must learn to navigate. As you already know, you have been reincarnated into the Fyrathis Empire, the largest and most powerful empire in the Central Continent. However, it is also a land rife with political struggle].
Arthur's mind raced, absorbing every word with the precision of a scholar.
"Continue," he thought, his voice in his mind sharper now.
The system complied. [The Fyrathis Empire is ruled by an emperor, who is the supreme authority. However, the emperor's power is not absolute. There are many factions within the empire, each vying for control, influence, and favor. The royal family, which you now belong to, is divided into several branches, each with its own alliances and ambitions].
Arthur frowned, his mind already calculating. The royal family was always divided. Politics, after all, were never simple. "Who rules the empire now?" he thought. "And what of my siblings?"
[The current emperor is Emperor Sylas, a shrewd and calculating ruler. His reign is strong right now. He has four wives, but only the First Wife, your mother, have given birth. Nevertheless, the Second and Third wives are currently pregnant, waiting to finally give birth. As the first prince, you are in line to inherit the throne, but this does not guarantee your position].
"What dangers should I be wary of?" Arthur thought, pushing aside his mounting frustration for now and focusing on the practical matters at hand.
[There are many dangers, Host] the system answered. [First, the noble families. They wield immense power, controlling territories, wealth, and armies. Their loyalty to the emperor is often conditional, and they will act in their own interests before the state's.]
"That is a given, inferior beings are prone to bite their master's hands without proper control. That is why they need to be closely monitor."
[Exactly. But you still must gain the favor of these families to secure your position, your power alone won't be enough].
"I understand that much, the key is to manipulate them into doing my bidding. And what about the magic in this world?" Arthur asked, his thoughts sharpening. "How does it work? What abilities do I have as the first prince?"
[Magic is a complex force]. The system explained. [It is tied to the land, the elements, and even the bloodlines. As the first prince, you have access to the royal magic of the Fyrathis House, but your current age and physical state restrict your ability to wield it].
"I see," Arthur thought grimly. "So I'm weak right now."
[Correct, Host]. The system's tone remained neutral. [Your current state is that of a newborn, and thus you have no physical or magical power. However, as you grow, your abilities will develop. You must cultivate your magic, intellect, and influence to rise above your siblings. The dangers you face are not just physical—they are political, social, and magical.]
Arthur absorbed the information, each word sinking into his mind. "What else?"
The system hesitated for just a moment, as if gauging his resolve before continuing. [There are also external threats to consider. The empire may face invasions from neighboring kingdoms, uprisings from within, and dark forces that seek to undermine the realm's stability. The empire has ancient enemies, some of whom are still in the shadows, manipulating events behind the scenes. You must be prepared for all manner of threats].
Evidently, the current predicament is far from easy, but Arthur thought he was prepared. It's in his nature, he was raised to be in power, and his desire to control is undeniable. But the question remains, will he be able to size control of the world, and make it his own?