A sharp inhale. A sudden jolt.
Vaelrik's eyes fluttered open as he gasped for breath, his chest rising and falling in rapid succession. His body felt… alien, yet familiar. His mind was clouded, fragments of memories slipping through his grasp like sand in the wind.
Where was he?
The ceiling above him was adorned with intricate gold and ivory carvings, swirling patterns of artistry far beyond anything he had ever seen. A glimmering chandelier of blue crystal hung from the center, refracting light across the grand chamber.
His gaze shifted. Walls lined with ornate frescoes, statues carved in divine beauty, and furniture fit for a king. The floor beneath was covered with a thick crimson carpet, its embroidered gold edges further emphasizing the sheer wealth surrounding him.
This… wasn't his world.
The realization struck him like a hammer to the chest. He was supposed to be—what? Dead? Alive? The memories of his past life were slipping further away, but one thing remained crystal clear.
He wasn't home anymore.
A dull ache formed in his chest, a mixture of sorrow and confusion. His family—his mother, his father, his past self—were all gone. Erased from existence, leaving him stranded in this unknown land.
But grief would have to wait. Right now, he needed answers.
Slowly, he pushed himself up from the massive bed, its silken sheets pooling around him as he steadied his breath. His body felt different—stronger, refined, more powerful. He clenched his fist, feeling the raw energy coursing through his veins.
A full-length mirror stood near the far wall. With cautious steps, he approached it.
And when he saw his own reflection—his new self—his breath hitched.
The man staring back at him was not the one he remembered. This was someone else.
His jaw tightened. His thoughts raced. The only certainty in this moment was that he had reincarnated.
The question was—who was he now?
And more importantly…
What fate awaited him in this era of steel and blood?