House Grim.
One of the eight great houses that ruled over the Astralis Continent. Becoming a knight of such a house was considered a matter of immense pride – or at least that's what everyone kept telling Mathis.
When he was appointed as a Knight, even at the lowest rank, his family threw a celebration so grand that one would even think that perhaps he had been crowned as the king.
His mother wept with joy, his father drank himself under the table, and his little sister enthusiastically introduced him to everyone she met, saying, "My brother is a KNIGHT!"
But Mathis? He wasn't particularly skilled with a sword. In fact, calling him "mediocre" would have been generous. His sparring partners often joked that he held his sword like it was a broom, probably because he had spent more time helping his mother with housework than training.
Even the Blood Crest he had awakened was that of a common swordsman, which his instructor tactfully described as "charmingly ordinary."
But being extraordinary had never been Mathis' intention.
He was a simple man who dreamed of living a simple life. He wanted to marry a kind-hearted girl from the countryside, settle down, and raise a family of his own. Above all, he wished to take care of his parents, who had supported him through everything.
And oh! He had one more dream – to enroll his brilliant sister in the Royal Academy.
Though the tuition was steeper than the castle walls, his sister was an absolute genius. She could memorize an entire book on alchemy in a single day, while he had struggled three attempts just to read the title correctly.
"At least one of us got the brains," he would joke, ruffling her hair with pride.
These were his modest dreams.
But never had he imagined that he would die like this, in the middle of nowhere, at the hands of unknown assassins.
As his life ebbed away, he looked toward his young master. His eyes grew bloodshot as desperate thoughts raced through his fading mind. He wanted to beg the young master to take care of his family – even if he died here; he prayed the young master would survive and help his family in his place.
He couldn't bear the thought of dying for nothing.
But what could he do while his strength was slipping away from his body? The last thing he saw was the fire reflecting in his young master's eyes.
'He is so bright… like flames that consume all.'
He didn't know why such a thought appeared in his mind, but that was the last one he ever had.
And then, darkness claimed him forever.
_____
When a human experiences rage, their body reacts instinctively.
The 'Fight or Flight' response takes control, flooding the system with adrenaline. The greater the anger, the more adrenaline surges through the body.
And Renard, witnessing the death of his knight, was consumed by rage!
Just hours ago, he hadn't even known who Mathis was. In his past life, he'd never bothered to learn anything about this loyal knight – just another face in the crowd of those who served House Grim. But now Mathis had died for him.
Not once, but twice!
Even after regressing through time, even with all his knowledge of what was to come, Renard had still failed to save the knight who had sacrificed everything to protect him in his past life. Renard felt the crushing weight of failure!
To watch his people die before his very eyes while being powerless to intervene – this was the very thing he had sworn would never happen again.
And his mind simply refused to process it!
For a moment, he forgot everything else – his limits, his carefully laid plans, even the fact that he was trapped in the body of his younger self!
And all that remained was the fire of his rage.
Renard turned his gaze to the assassin before him.
Behind him, an aura manifested—an ancient creature with multiple crimson, star-like eyes, its ethereal form rippling with barely contained fury!
With the appearance of the aura, the night itself seemed to flicker, and an unshakable terror gripped all who dared to look at Renard. Even the time itself seemed to have frozen under the weight of his rage.
The assassins flinched.
There was something about Renard now—something that felt far more dangerous than anything they had ever faced in life.
The assassin who was acting as the leader clenched his eyes shut and shook his head, trying to dispel the unnatural fear that was clouding his mind.
'Get it together!'
But the moment he opened his eyes, Renard had vanished.
His survival instincts screamed at him as he ducked.
Just then, a massive sword whistled through the space where his head had been a moment ago, the sheer force of its passage tearing through the air with a violent rush!
He stumbled back, his breath caught in his throat.
Renard stood before him, his eyes cold as ice.
'Dangerous!'
The assassin barely had time to leap away before the oversized blade crashed down where he'd stood, cratering the ground beneath!
"You… what the hell are you?" The assassin's voice cracked.
But Renard was beyond hearing.
He moved like a force of nature.
Had Renard been in his right mind, he would have noticed the floating message before him.
[Hidden Ability - Devourer's Rage is activated!]
[Consuming all remaining Essence to execute total destruction!]
Renard had become the incarnate of destruction itself.
Each step he took left cracks in the earth beneath him, and the aura surrounding him radiated such terrifying power that both knights and assassins froze in their tracks, paralyzed with sheer dread.
But then—just as quickly as it had come—everything vanished like a mirage.
[Body cannot support the ability - temporarily sealing Devourer's Rage]
His young, untrained body just couldn't contain the power of the Ancient entity.
"Surround him!"
The assassins moved to encircle Renard as he stood, utterly drained and powerless, but none of them dared to approach him recklessly, not after the unnatural power he had just displayed.
Even Renard stood motionless… or rather, barely standing.
He couldn't even lift a finger as all his stamina and essence had been suddenly drained.
Just as Renard, whose sanity returned with the cancellation of the ability, began to feel despair creeping into his mind, he sensed something.
A presence to his left.
Slowly turning his head, a weak smile crossed his face.
Standing there, with a massive broadsword strapped to his back, was the one man he had been waiting for.
The man who had once saved him.
The man he had killed.
The kindest soul he had ever known.
"You're here…"
The Wandering Warrior Jin had arrived!
一一✽✽✽一一