The citadel loomed before Raya, its towering spires cutting through the dusk like a jagged wound in the sky. Every step he took toward it was a step closer to the end of everything he had ever known. The faces of those who had wronged him flashed through his mind—Brammel, the corrupt politician, and the others who had orchestrated the pain he had endured for so many years. Each one was a mark to be erased, each one was a target.
But as he approached the gates of the citadel, the weight of his vengeance hung heavily in the air. There was something inside him, a gnawing feeling he couldn't quite shake off. The woman's words echoed in his mind, like a faint whisper from a distant memory. "Don't lose yourself in the process."
He paused for a moment, his hand on the hilt of his sword. For the first time in years, doubt crept into his heart, but only for a heartbeat. The desire for revenge was too strong. It drowned out everything else. He had made up his mind, and no one—not even the shadow of a long-lost voice—could stop him now.
The citadel was heavily guarded, but Raya moved like a shadow through the night. With swift precision, he incapacitated the guards, his blade finding the soft spots in their armor, his movements fluid, instinctive. He had done this countless times before, and he was no stranger to the darkness.
But when he reached the grand hall, he found something he did not expect.
The woman.
She was there, standing in the center of the massive chamber, her back to him. The flickering torchlight cast shadows across her gaunt face, and her eyes—those same eyes that had haunted him earlier—were now locked on him, unreadable.
"You..." Raya's voice was a low growl, as the realization hit him. "You were never just a beggar."
The woman turned slowly, her features softening into a look of resignation. "No," she said softly. "I wasn't. But I am now. And so are you."
Raya's heart skipped a beat. He could feel something shifting in the air, something wrong. His instincts screamed at him to act, to draw his blade and end it all in one swift strike, but something held him in place. Her presence, her eyes, made him hesitate.
"What is this?" Raya asked, his voice colder now. "Why are you here?"
"I've been waiting for you," she said, her voice distant, almost sorrowful. "I knew you'd come. I knew you'd reach this point. But I also know... it's not just Brammel you seek to destroy."
Raya's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?"
The woman took a step forward, the faintest smile playing at the corner of her lips. "You seek to destroy this world, don't you? The corruption, the power that poisons everything. You think killing Brammel will make it all go away, but it won't. This world was never meant for redemption. Not for you. Not for anyone."
Raya's pulse quickened. He knew now that she wasn't just an innocent beggar—she was someone who understood the true depth of his pain. She knew his soul. She had been watching him for far longer than he cared to admit.
"You're wrong," he spat, gripping his sword tighter. "They must pay. They must all pay for what they've done."
The woman's smile faded, replaced by a deep, almost unbearable sadness. "You're not the only one who's lost everything, Raya. But revenge... revenge will only burn you from the inside out. You'll never be free. And that's why I'm here."
Before Raya could react, the woman raised her hand, and a dark energy crackled in the air, the temperature in the room dropping sharply. For a moment, he thought it was some sort of magic, but it wasn't the kind of magic he was familiar with—it was something ancient, primal, and powerful.
Raya's heart skipped a beat. His instincts screamed, but his body moved too slowly. The woman's gaze was unwavering as she stepped forward, the air thick with tension.
"No," he whispered, his eyes widening. "You can't—"
But it was too late.
The woman's hand shot forward with terrifying speed, her palm making contact with his chest. He felt the coldness of it seep into his very bones, an icy grip tightening around his heart. His vision blurred as the power coursed through him, drowning out the world. For the first time in his life, Raya felt a true sense of helplessness.
His sword slipped from his hand, and he collapsed to his knees, gasping for air. He looked up at the woman, his vision swimming.
"Why?" he croaked, his voice barely a whisper. "I trusted you."
She knelt down beside him, her face filled with sorrow. "You were never meant to be this person, Raya. You were meant for something else—something more. But you lost your way. And now, this is the only way to free you."
A sharp, searing pain pierced his chest, and he let out a strangled cry. His body trembled, and the world around him began to spin. He felt the darkness pulling him, and he knew, deep down, that this was the end. But in his final moments, he wasn't filled with anger or regret. Instead, there was a strange peace—an acceptance. The flames of his vengeance had been extinguished, and he could feel the weight lifting from his soul.
A smile tugged at the corner of his lips, despite the agony that consumed him. It was over. At last.
And then, as the world turned to black, he felt a strange pull—like he was falling through endless depths, his body weightless, his soul free from its mortal coil. He tried to grasp onto it, to fight the inevitable, but it was no use.
A voice—soft, distant—whispered through the void. "Your journey is not over, Raya. It has only just begun."
When Raya opened his eyes again, the world was different. His body was no longer the same; it felt lighter, younger, but there was a strange weight to it, like a new beginning had been forced upon him.
He tried to move, but his muscles were stiff, unfamiliar. He looked around, his breath catching in his throat. He was in a lush forest, with towering trees and strange plants growing all around him. The air smelled fresh, and the ground beneath him was soft with moss.
He couldn't understand it.
What happened? Where am I?
A strange sense of déjà vu washed over him as he stood up, his feet unsteady. It felt like his very soul had been transported to another place, another time. But one thing was clear—he was not the same man who had once walked the streets of Embion.
Raya looked at his hands, now small and youthful, and then he realized with a shock: This isn't my world anymore.
He had been reincarnated. But why? For what purpose?
And more importantly, what would he do now that he had been given a second chance?
The answers were out there, waiting for him. But one thing was certain—whatever this new world held for him, he would face it the same way he had faced everything else. With fire in his heart and vengeance in his soul.
The journey was far from over. It was only just beginning....