Chapter 1: Rebirth of Darius Lionhart
Ezekiel's world had been consumed by darkness. The cold tile floor beneath him was the last thing he felt before everything turned into a blur. A rush of light, pain, and numbness, followed by a hollow void. Then, a sharp, overwhelming sensation coursed through him — warmth, life, power. Something was wrong.
He blinked rapidly, his body jerking awake. A wave of nausea hit him as he tried to steady himself. His head felt heavy, like it was being crushed by a thousand pounds of stone. He sat up, clutching his chest, only to realize that the body beneath him wasn't his. The weight, the stature, the feeling of strength — it wasn't him.
Darius Lionhart.
The name crashed into Ezekiel's mind like a tidal wave. The memories of the fictional world he had immersed himself in for months flooded his senses. Darius Lionhart — the side character in his favorite novel, Conquer — was supposed to be weak. A pathetic prince who eventually became a pawn in the schemes of his jealous brothers, Elias and Asher, before being eliminated without a second thought.
But this... This wasn't the Darius from the book. Ezekiel flexed his fingers and immediately felt the surge of raw power. His body pulsed with an overwhelming force that wasn't his own. Infinite mana? The sensation felt like it was overflowing from within him, like an ocean trapped in a dam. His entire being felt... different. Stronger.
Ezekiel's mind raced as he processed the change. He was no longer a man struggling through addiction and despair. No longer the man who had overdosed and died alone in his broken apartment. He was Darius Lionhart now — a prince of the kingdom of Varrentis, with godly potential and chains stronger than any mortal could fathom.
Ezekiel — no, Darius — let out a long breath, looking down at his hands. His chains, dark and ethereal, flickered into existence around his wrists, pulsating with a sinister energy. These were not the weak chains that were described in the book. These were something more. Something powerful. His eyes glowed with a stormy, dark grey hue as he mentally commanded them, and the chains responded — they coiled, shifting and growing as if they recognized him, as if they knew his will.
"Not bad," Ezekiel muttered to himself, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips. The more he focused on this new body, the more he realized he could do. The chains were just the beginning. He could feel his mana reserves, infinite and boundless, stirring inside him, ready to be unleashed. The chains could drain and bind, heal and destroy. He could command them to do whatever he wished.
But he knew better than to get cocky. He was still in the body of someone who had been betrayed and poisoned, left to die by his own family. Darius Lionhart, the "weaker" prince, had always been discarded like trash by his siblings, Elias and Asher. But now, Ezekiel wasn't going to be the side character anymore. He wasn't going to be the victim. He had the power to change things — to reshape his fate, to take control of the kingdom, and to make those who betrayed him regret their actions.
With renewed determination, Ezekiel rose from the bed. His gaze swept around the lavish room that he now called his own — golden accents, luxurious silks, and ornate furniture. This was the palace of the Lionhart family, a place he had only read about, but now it was his reality.
And his first mission?
To make sure his brothers knew who the real threat in the kingdom was.
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Darius's siblings, Elias and Asher, would be the first to feel his wrath. He could already imagine the smug expressions on their faces when they learned that Darius — the weak, illegitimate son — had returned. Only now, with power beyond anything they could have ever imagined. Their jealousy, their arrogance, and their schemes would be the very things that would bring them down.
But first, he needed to understand how this new world worked. Ezekiel wasn't foolish enough to rush in without understanding the rules. He was Darius now, yes, but he was still learning how to use this immense power at his disposal.
As he moved through the palace corridors, his mind raced with possibilities. His chains, his mana, his godly potential — they were the key to everything. But more importantly, he had a plan now. A plan to reshape this kingdom. A plan to claim what was rightfully his.
And nothing — and no one — would stand in his way.
---
Ezekiel arrived at the dining hall, where the Lionhart family gathered for breakfast. His father, King Alaric, sat at the head of the table, his piercing blue eyes cold as ever. The other members of the royal family were there, too, including Elias and Asher. They all had the same platinum blonde hair and icy blue eyes — the hallmark of the Lionhart bloodline. But Darius... Darius had dark onyx black hair and grey eyes, a stark contrast to the rest of them.
As he entered the room, a silence fell. His siblings exchanged disdainful looks, their expressions dripping with contempt. It was clear that they had never respected him — and never would.
"Ah, the illegitimate prince graces us with his presence," Elias sneered, his voice dripping with venom.
Ezekiel, now fully in control of Darius's body, just smiled, his lips curling up into a wicked grin. He wasn't the weakling they thought he was. He wasn't the helpless fool they'd tried to kill. He was something far greater now.
Darius sat at the far end of the table, his posture relaxed but his eyes burning with an intensity that sent a chill through the room. Elias and Asher watched him carefully, their eyes narrowing in suspicion, but neither of them dared to provoke him. Not yet.
Ezekiel took a moment to assess the situation. His father, King Alaric, sat at the head of the table, his eyes cold and calculating as ever. He wasn't the emotional king from the book, the man who had been torn apart by guilt over his sons' betrayal. No, this king was a battle-hardened warrior, a ruler who had fought countless wars and had never shown weakness in his life.
But Ezekiel had a card to play.
"Father," he spoke, his voice steady, confident.
The king's eyes flickered toward him, his gaze piercing and unreadable. "Darius."
Ezekiel didn't flinch. "I've been thinking about something." His tone was casual, but there was a malicious undertone beneath it. "I've decided to show my brothers just how powerful I've become."
King Alaric's eyes narrowed, but there was no trace of fear in them. The king's gaze was that of a battle-hardened man who had seen it all. But Ezekiel wasn't concerned about fear. He was concerned about power.
"Make sure you don't forget who you are, Darius," the king warned, his voice cold as ice.
"I won't, Father," Ezekiel replied smoothly, his smile never faltering. "But don't worry. I'm not forgetting anything."
And with that, the first chapter of his new life began. The battle for the throne, for control, and for power would be far bloodier this time.