Author's Note
Of course, you remember the first chapter. This chapter will begin with some visions from Elian's previous world, offering you a glimpse into his past before his transition to the new world.
Elian's Perspective (Reynald Arkanios)
"What is this?"
The room was familiar... far more than it should be.
I rose from my bed, my steps sluggish as if I had just emerged from a strange dream. But this wasn't a dream... was it?
I approached the mirror and paused for a moment. Staring at my reflection, I slowly reached out, touching my face.
"This is me."
My long black hair was tied back, and my amethyst eyes gleamed, reflecting a faint glow. Even my body... remained the same, sculpted from years of rigorous training and discipline. Nothing had changed. But... how?
I pulled the royal cloak over my shoulders—pure white, adorned with intricate golden embroidery that reflected the flickering torchlight on the walls. It wasn't just a piece of fabric; it was a symbol of authority, a garment worn only within the throne room.
I pushed open the massive doors, a faint creak echoing as they parted, revealing the familiar scene before me: rows of guards and attendants lined up on either side of the corridor leading to the throne. Yet, what never changed… was how they all bowed in unison the moment they saw me, as if it was etched into their very souls.
I gazed at them for a brief moment before continuing forward with steady steps. My footsteps echoed through the corridor, carrying an air of silent authority. It was as if I hadn't even seen them at all.
As I reached the throne room's entrance, the two guards bowed in perfect synchronization before pushing open the massive doors with quiet precision. The sound of iron hinges groaning filled the air, as if announcing my arrival.
The room remained unchanged—just as grand as I remembered. Its towering ceiling bore witness to the glories of the past, adorned with enormous murals that depicted my victories and achievements over the past fifteen years or more. White and gold dominated the space, radiating an aura of majesty and power, as if the throne itself had been waiting for me since the beginning of time.
I strode toward the throne with steady steps, the echoes of my footsteps resonating through the vast hall, as if announcing the rightful reclaiming of my place. The throne stood as majestic as ever—a masterpiece of artistry and authority, forged from pure gold, adorned with intricate gemstones that reflected light like scattered stars. Its base was solid, carved with engravings narrating the kingdom's history, while its armrests bore the heads of two opposing dragons, symbols of power and dominion.
Slowly, I turned and sat down. The high-backed seat embraced me, as if I had never left it. I relaxed slightly, my fingertips brushing against the cold armrest, while my gaze wandered across the room.
This was my place… and it always would be.
Duke Valentine stood before the throne, his back straight and his eyes fixed on me, as if carefully gauging my mood before speaking.
"Good morning, Your Majesty." His voice was calm, yet it failed to mask the underlying tension seeping into his tone. "I hate to disturb you so soon after waking, but… Your Excellency does not rule just one nation or even a single planet—your dominion spans multiple worlds. No one dares to challenge your authority, but unfortunately…" He paused momentarily, choosing his words with precision. "There are some narrow-minded rebels attempting to stir chaos."
I cut him off with an icy tone, my gaze devoid of emotion. "Get to the point."
He cleared his throat, then bowed slightly in respect before continuing. "The former king… he is not finished. He has managed to gather the remnants of his defeated army, and it seems he is planning something."
I rose from the throne slowly, descending one step at a time, the sound of my footsteps echoing through the empty hall. My eyes never left Valentine, who remained steadfast in his place—yet he undoubtedly understood the weight of my words.
"There is no former king, Valentine," I stated coldly, my voice carrying an undeniable finality. "If he were truly a king, he would not be called 'former'."
Valentine took a slight step back before quickly bowing his head.
"Of course, Your Majesty. Of course,"
he replied steadily, though he dared not lift his gaze to meet mine directly.
I halted in front of Valentine, extending my hand as if demanding something self-evident.
"Give me a paper with the coordinates." My tone was calm, yet it carried the weight of an irrevocable decision. "I will handle this myself… I will wipe out the remnants, along with the one who dared to claim the title of 'former king'."
Silence lingered for a moment before Valentine quickly nodded, attempting to mask the surprise in his eyes. "Of course, Your Majesty. The coordinates will be prepared immediately."
For a moment, an unexpected thought crept into my mind...
"It seems I miss my short and peaceful life with Garin and Celestia."
Suddenly, everything was swallowed by darkness.
There was no throne, no Valentine, no kingdom or planets under my rule… only the void.
Then, as if waking from a distant dream, I opened my eyes again… but this time, I was no longer King Reynald Arkanios.
"I am Elian… once again!!"
Within the darkness that surrounded me, a strange voice slithered into my ears—rough yet calm, carrying an eerie undertone.
"It seems you've finally awakened, boy."
A jolt of shock surged through my body. My eyes snapped open, and I sprang to my feet, instinctively adopting a defensive stance. But… something was missing.
My hands darted to my sides, searching for my dagger—yet it was nowhere to be found.
My brows furrowed, and I lifted my gaze toward the source of the voice, my eyes blazing with both anger and confusion.
"Who the hell are you? And why did you do this?"
No response.
The silence was far more terrifying than any answer could have been.
I felt my heart pounding faster, my tension rising with every passing second. My fists clenched so tightly that my nails dug into my palms.
"What about my family?!" I shouted, my voice betraying the fear creeping into me. "What about my father and mother?!"
The same voice echoed again, carrying that same infuriating calmness:
"Do not worry. They are safe… perhaps you will see them soon."
There was no comfort in his words.
I tightened my grip even more, my nails biting deeper into my skin as my gaze darted through the surrounding darkness, searching for anything—any clue, any explanation.
"Why am I here?" I asked again, this time with a sharper tone.
The voice responded without hesitation.
"Of course, for training."
"Training?!" I repeated the word, as if I couldn't believe what I had just heard. "What kind of training are you talking about?"
There was a moment of silence before the answer came—its tone was strange, carrying an unsettling mix of nostalgia and pity, as if this voice knew far more than it should.
"Your training… to save the world."
A chill ran down my spine. His words carried a weight I wasn't prepared for.
Save the world?
What world was he talking about?
And more importantly—who was this person?