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Rebirth of the Celestial Vanguard

Realistically_Real
14
chs / week
The average realized release rate over the past 30 days is 14 chs / week.
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Synopsis
After his sudden death in his ordinary world, Aric, a humble but driven young man, awakens in a realm filled with ancient magic, mythical beasts, and kingdoms vying for power. He’s not just reborn, though—he's the reincarnation of a powerful, nearly mythical figure known as the Celestial Vanguard, a warrior-mage who once wielded powers that protected the balance of the realms. The catch? Most of his memories from that past life are locked away, forcing him to rediscover his former abilities while cultivating new powers in this vibrant yet dangerous world.
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Chapter 1 - Awakening in a New World

Aric opened his eyes, squinting against the dappled sunlight that broke through the canopy of towering trees. The earth was soft beneath him, the air thick with the scent of moss and wildflowers. The warmth of the sun on his face felt strangely unfamiliar, as if he were experiencing it for the first time.

For a moment, he lay still, letting the quiet wash over him, half-convinced that he was still dreaming. The last thing he remembered was… well, he wasn't entirely sure. He had been living his life, ordinary as ever, but something dark and final had intervened. A flicker of a memory—his life snuffed out in an instant—lingered at the edge of his mind.

But that wasn't possible. He was here, breathing, his heart beating. Alive.

He pushed himself to sit, muscles straining with an odd unfamiliarity, as though his body were both stronger and softer than he remembered. Slowly, his surroundings sharpened. Trees stretched endlessly in every direction, their trunks thick and covered in vines. Strange birds with brilliant feathers flitted through the branches, singing in haunting, melodic tones. Everything was more vivid, more intense, as if the colors, sounds, and smells of the world had been turned up beyond normal.

A cold thrill of unease spread through him as he took in the unfamiliar landscape. This wasn't his world. He was certain of it. The air itself buzzed with an energy that he could feel prickling against his skin—a strange warmth, thrumming and alive, that seemed to flow around him and through him. He concentrated on it, trying to grasp what was different, and found himself instinctively reaching for that power. The sensation pulsed back, as if the world itself were responding to him.

Before he could fully process, a voice broke his focus.

"Well now, aren't you an odd sight," a voice called, tinged with a casual, almost mocking tone.

Aric turned sharply, his muscles tensing. Leaning against a tree, watching him with mild interest, stood a tall figure clad in dark, travel-worn robes. The man's face was partially obscured by a hood, but Aric caught a glimpse of sharp, calculating eyes that seemed to take in every detail about him. A soft smirk tugged at the man's lips.

"You seem… disoriented. Not from around here, I take it?"

Aric opened his mouth to respond, but words failed him. He didn't know how to explain what had happened. How did he even begin to describe waking up in a world that felt both alien and eerily familiar? After a moment's hesitation, he decided on a more straightforward approach.

"Where am I?"

The robed man chuckled. "I'd say you're in the Liminal Wood, though that answer is probably as useful as telling you that the sky is blue." He cocked his head, studying Aric with unnerving intensity. "Tell me, do you even know who you are?"

Aric hesitated. Who am I? The question sounded simple enough, yet something within him stirred—something deep, ancient, and powerful. Images flashed through his mind: battles, power, an identity. The Celestial Vanguard. But that didn't make sense. It was like a half-remembered dream, intangible yet persistent.

"I'm… Aric," he finally managed, though even that felt oddly inadequate.

"Aric, hmm?" The man seemed amused. "Well, Aric, it seems you've found yourself in quite the predicament. You're far from any known village or city, with no supplies, no companions, and—" he glanced pointedly at Aric's empty hands "—no weapon. You're practically inviting the dangers of the Liminal Wood to come and devour you."

Aric's mind raced. Something about the way this stranger looked at him—almost as if he knew more than he was letting on—put him on edge. His instincts warned him that he was outmatched, at least for now.

"Who are you?" Aric asked, finally.

The man grinned, a flash of teeth beneath his hood. "Names are powerful things here, but you may call me… Krael." He straightened, taking a step closer. "And I'd advise caution, Aric. You're not the only one drawn to the power that lingers in the Liminal Wood. Strange creatures roam these parts, creatures that can sense the faintest stirrings of magic." Krael's gaze flickered with something like curiosity. "And you, my friend, practically radiate it."

Magic. Aric felt a sudden rush of clarity, a sense of that thrumming energy he'd felt earlier coursing through him. It was like a river under his skin, powerful and foreign. Part of him recoiled from the sensation, but another part—something buried deep within—yearned to tap into it.

"What do you mean?" Aric asked, though he could sense the answer. "Magic… is real here?"

Krael chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Oh, you're even more lost than I thought." He raised his hand, and with a casual flick of his wrist, a flicker of blue fire appeared in his palm, dancing and twisting in the air. "Magic is very real, and it's as natural to this world as breathing."

The sight of the flame stirred something within Aric, a memory just beyond his reach. He felt a tug, almost like an instinct, compelling him to reach out. The fire seemed to call to him, its energy familiar in a way he couldn't explain.

Krael watched him with growing interest. "Well, well. Perhaps you're not as helpless as you seem," he mused, extinguishing the flame. "Tell you what, Aric. If you're looking for answers, you'll find them in the capital city of Ilhara. Plenty of strange folk like you drift through its gates."

He gave Aric a long, assessing look. "The journey isn't easy, especially for one in your… condition. But, considering your peculiar aura, you might have a shot at making it."

Aric's mind whirled. He didn't know this man, didn't know if he could trust him, but it was the only lead he had. Ilhara. If there was even a chance of finding answers there, he couldn't afford to ignore it.

Krael turned to leave, disappearing into the shadows between the trees, but paused and looked back over his shoulder. "Oh, and Aric?"

Aric looked up, feeling a strange pang of tension.

"Don't go poking around in memories that aren't yours. The past has a way of clinging to those who don't belong to it." With that cryptic warning, Krael vanished into the depths of the forest, leaving Aric alone once more.

Aric took a shaky breath, feeling the weight of the silence around him. But as he rose to his feet, a strange sense of determination solidified within him. He was Aric—whoever that truly was—and he would find the answers he sought.

With one last glance into the depths of the forest, he set off, feeling the quiet thrill of magic pulsing through his veins.