The days in Eldora moved slowly, but time seemed to speed by for Elijah. His body, fragile and weak, was a stark contrast to the memories of his past life. Every day was a struggle—his new infant body betraying him, unable to express the power that still swirled inside him like a tempest. But his mind… his mind was sharp, a blade that had not dulled with reincarnation.
He lay in the cradle, his emerald eyes wide open, watching the world unfold around him. His mother, Lyra, would often hum soft lullabies, her voice carrying the warmth of a thousand lifetimes. His father, Magnus, would visit often, his golden eyes always studying him with curiosity and pride. And Caelus, his older brother, was ever watchful, his aura strong and steadfast, always mindful of his younger sibling's growth.
But despite the comforts of this new life, Elijah knew that nothing here was ordinary. Eldora was a world unlike any he had known before—a world brimming with magic, where power was not simply gained through training and bloodshed, but through the very fabric of existence itself.
His first taste of magic came not through force but through instinct.
At just four months old, Elijah had begun to experience the first stirrings of mana in his tiny body. It was an unsettling sensation at first—an energy that surged through him, vibrant and overwhelming. He had spent countless hours lying in his crib, focusing on it, learning to control it, despite his infant body's resistance. His mana was… different. It was stronger than the mana of any child born into the Veylora family, yet it pulsed with a unique rhythm, like a song no one else could hear.
One day, as his mother held him, he reached out instinctively, his tiny hand brushing against her arm. A spark of magic pulsed from his touch, barely a flicker, but it was enough. Lyra froze, her eyes widening with disbelief.
"Magnus," she whispered urgently, her voice trembling. "Come quickly."
Magnus appeared in the doorway, his expression unreadable as he approached, his piercing gaze locking onto Elijah. The Sovereign studied his son with an intensity that sent a shiver down Lyra's spine.
Elijah's eyes met his father's, a silent understanding passing between them. Magnus raised an eyebrow, his lips curling into a subtle smile.
"Interesting," Magnus murmured, kneeling beside Lyra. He placed a hand gently on Elijah's forehead. "The boy is no ordinary child. His mana is… unrefined, but undeniably potent. More than that, it feels… ancient."
Lyra's breath caught in her throat. "Ancient?"
Magnus nodded, his golden eyes narrowing. "Yes. It is as if the magic he wields has been bound within him for centuries. This is… no mere coincidence."
Elijah could feel their gaze upon him, but it was not fear he sensed—only curiosity, and perhaps a trace of awe. His power, even in its nascent form, was undeniable. It was as though the entire world could feel it, even if they couldn't comprehend its source.
But what did this mean for him? In his past life, power had been a means to an end—a weapon forged in the fires of countless battles. Here, in Eldora, his power was something different. He was a child again, reborn with the promise of greatness, but now with a family that would nurture him. Would they guide him? Or would they see him as a weapon, a tool to further their ambitions?
As the days passed, Elijah's growth became more evident. He was a quick learner, even for a child. While other infants of his age would babble and giggle, Elijah's mind was always calculating, analyzing the world around him. His control over his mana, though still in its infancy, grew steadily. But it was the way his magic seemed to ripple through the air—almost alive—that perplexed those who sensed it.
By the time Elijah reached six months, it was clear to everyone who observed him that he was no ordinary child. His mana was far beyond what anyone expected, and though still volatile, it thrummed with an intensity that made even the most powerful of the Veylora family take notice.
It was a rainy afternoon when Caelus arrived at the Veylora estate, his aura sharp as ever, his demeanor calm. He had a mission for his younger brother. Elijah had been sitting in his playpen, his eyes scanning the room as his mother worked nearby. Caelus stepped forward, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
"Elijah, it's time for your first lesson," he said softly.
Lyra looked up, her concern evident. "Is he ready?"
Caelus's eyes softened as he gazed at the boy. "He is more than ready. He's different, Lyra. I've never seen anything like it."
Elijah, though still a child, understood the gravity of the moment. This was the first test—the beginning of his journey. He had no intention of failing. He might be small now, but the Heavenly Demon within him was no mere memory. It was a power that would not be denied.
Caelus extended his hand, offering a crystal sphere—small but radiant with magical energy. "Focus on the sphere, Elijah. Try to manipulate the mana around it. Bring it to you."
The sphere hovered before Elijah, glowing with a faint blue light. He reached out with his tiny hands, the air around him shimmering as he sought to channel his mana. His magic stirred, a tidal wave within his chest, and with a slight flicker, the sphere trembled in the air.
For a moment, it hovered, as though caught between two worlds. Then, with a surge of power, it flew straight into Elijah's hands, the crystal humming with magic as it settled into his grasp.
The room fell silent.
Lyra's mouth dropped open, and even Caelus took a step back, his eyes wide with astonishment. Magnus appeared in the doorway, his expression unreadable as he surveyed the scene.
"Remarkable," he murmured, his voice soft with admiration. "Elijah… you've already surpassed the power of a Novice."
But Elijah didn't need their praise. He knew what he was capable of. And this was only the beginning. His past life had been one of endless battle, but in this world, he would forge a new path. A path that would lead him beyond even the rank of Sovereign.
The world of Eldora would soon learn the truth: the Heavenly Demon had been reborn, and nothing would stand in his way.
The monster had indeed been born. And it was only a matter of time before the world bent to his will.