The air was heavy with the stench of blood, sweat, and despair. Shadows writhed under a sun blotted out by smoke, and the once-vibrant battlefield had become a desolate wasteland of corpses and broken weapons.

Elion, the Sword of Radiance, stood at the center of it all, his blade gleaming with the faint, golden light of his mana.

He was the last hope of the kingdom, a warrior whose name struck both fear and hope in equal measure.

Before him loomed the Demon King, a towering monstrosity with horns that scraped the heavens and eyes that burned with malevolent fire. Its voice rumbled through the battlefield, a deep, guttural laughter that made even the bravest soldiers falter.

"Is this all your kingdom has to offer?" the Demon King sneered, its claws flexing with anticipation.

Elion clenched his jaw, feeling the last reserves of his mana pooling in his chest. He could barely stand, his body battered and broken from the endless onslaught, but retreat was not an option.

This was his moment.

"For the kingdom!" he roared, lunging forward with a final, desperate strike. His blade, imbued with every ounce of his remaining strength, cut through the thick miasma surrounding the Demon King, carving a blazing path of light.

The Demon King staggered, dark ichor spilling from the wound, but its mocking grin never wavered. With a sudden burst of speed, its claws lashed out, slashing across Elion's throat.

Pain exploded through him as blood poured from the wound, warm and thick. Elion collapsed to his knees, his vision dimming as the world around him began to fade.

"Even in death," he whispered, his voice barely audible over the roar of the battlefield, "I will... not... fall."

Darkness consumed him.

The first thing he noticed was the silence. It was strange, almost deafening after the chaos of the battlefield.

Then came the light—bright, artificial, and cold. His eyes fluttered open, and he found himself staring at a stark white ceiling.

Elion tried to sit up, but his body felt weak, unresponsive. Panic surged through him as he realized something was wrong.

His hands were pale, smooth, and delicate—nothing like the calloused, scarred hands of a seasoned warrior.

"What is this?" he muttered, his voice foreign to his ears.

He glanced around, taking in his surroundings. The room was filled with strange, glowing objects and an incessant beeping sound. A faint hum vibrated through the walls, unlike anything he had ever encountered.

Before he could make sense of it, the door creaked open, and a man in a white coat stepped inside. He was tall and slender, his face lined with concern as he scanned the glowing slate in his hand. When their eyes met, the man froze.

"You're awake," the stranger said, his voice tinged with disbelief.

"Where... am I?" Elion asked, his throat dry and hoarse.

"You're at Seoul Central Hospital," the man replied cautiously, his expression unreadable. "You were brought here after—" He hesitated, as if choosing his words carefully. "—a suicide attempt."

The words hit Elion like a physical blow. Suicide? The idea was so absurd it almost made him laugh, but the gravity of the situation kept him silent.

"I don't understand," he said finally. "Why am I here? And... what is Seoul?"

The doctor's brow furrowed, concern deepening. "You're in South Korea. Do you not remember anything, Jin-seok?"

The name felt like an echo in Elion's mind, distant and unfamiliar yet strangely resonant.

Jin-seok.

He repeated it silently, tasting its weight. It meant "true power," an ironic twist given his current state of confusion and weakness.

"I... don't remember," Elion lied, his instincts telling him to tread carefully.

The doctor nodded slowly, as if expecting this answer. "That's not uncommon in cases like yours. Memory loss can occur after trauma. But you should rest for now. We'll talk more later."

With that, the doctor left, leaving Elion alone with his thoughts.

He sat up slowly, testing the limits of his new body. The face staring back at him from the reflective glass on the opposite wall was youthful, almost ethereal, with sharp cheekbones, full lips, and dark eyes that held a haunting sadness. This wasn't his face. It was a stranger's.

As he struggled to make sense of his situation, the door opened again, and a woman entered.

She was dressed in sleek, professional attire, her sharp eyes scanning him with a mixture of relief and exasperation.

"Jin-seok, you scared us all half to death," she said, crossing her arms. "Do you have any idea what kind of chaos you've caused?"

Elion stared at her, his mind racing. "Who are you?"

The woman blinked, her stern expression faltering. "It's me, Hye-jin. Your manager. Did you hit your head or something?"

Manager? The word meant little to him, but he filed it away for later. "Why am I here?"

Her gaze softened slightly, though her tone remained brisk. "You were found unconscious in your apartment. Overdose. It's all over the news, Jin-seok. Nova Luna's golden boy nearly dies, and the fans are in an uproar."

Nova Luna. The name stirred something in his mind, fragments of memories that weren't his. Flashes of bright lights, screaming crowds, music that pulsed through his very being.

Before he could respond, a faint glow appeared before his eyes.

A translucent panel materialized out of nowhere, filled with words written in a strange yet familiar script.

System Activated. User Identified: Park Jin-seok. Infinite Mana Integration in Progress.

Elion—or Jin-seok, as this world insisted on calling him—stared at the glowing text, his heart pounding. The words pulsed with an energy that felt both foreign and familiar, a faint echo of the mana he once wielded.

"What is this?" he whispered, his voice barely audible.

Hye-jin frowned, following his gaze but seeing nothing. "Jin-seok? Are you okay?"

He shook his head, dismissing the panel as it faded from view. "I'm fine," he lied.

But he wasn't fine. Nothing about this was fine.

He was a warrior, a swordmaster who had stood against the Demon King himself, yet now he was trapped in the body of a fragile, broken man in a world he didn't understand.

And yet, the system's words echoed in his mind. Infinite Mana Integration in Progress.

Could it be?

For now, he had no choice but to play along, to adapt and survive. This world was alien to him, but it held secrets—secrets he intended to uncover. If this "Park Jin-seok" had power, Elion would wield it.

Because if there was one thing Elion knew, it was this: power wasn't given. It was taken.