The room was nothing short of **magnificent**. The walls were adorned with intricate **gold-threaded tapestries**, shimmering under the soft glow of enchanted crystal lamps. Every inch of the chamber exuded **luxury and power**, from the finely carved pillars to the enormous windows draped with silken curtains. At the very center of the room lay an **ornate bed**, its frame sculpted from **blackwood**, embedded with **silver and sapphire inlays**. The sheets were softer than silk, woven with delicate celestial patterns.
Upon the bed lay a young man, appearing no older than **nineteen or twenty**, with **exquisite features**—the kind that could make even the gods envious. His skin was **flawlessly smooth, pale as porcelain**, while his long **crimson hair** cascaded over the pillows, **gleaming like liquid fire**. His eyes were shut, his breathing steady—until suddenly…
"**Hahhhh—!!**"
His chest **heaved violently**, his breath came in **ragged gasps** as though he had been drowning and had just broken through the surface of the water. His **eyelids snapped open**, revealing a pair of deep **golden irises** that seemed to hold an abyss within them. Confusion flashed across his face as he turned his head, his gaze sweeping across the **majestic chamber**.
And then… he went still.
As he lay back down, realization struck him like a crashing tide. This **wasn't his body**.
He closed his eyes, trying to **recollect his thoughts**, but before he could process anything further, a **sharp pain** exploded in his skull.
"Arghh—!"
It felt like his **head was being split apart**, as though **countless memories** were being **forcibly imprinted into his mind**. Flashes of unknown faces, names, emotions, and experiences surged forward, crashing into his consciousness **like a relentless storm**. The pain was **excruciating**, his body convulsing slightly as the overwhelming flood of information overtook him.
Then, everything **faded to black**.
---
When he finally **regained consciousness**, the pain had subsided, leaving behind **clarity**. As he slowly sat up, his **golden eyes flickered**, a cold, calculating gleam replacing his previous confusion. He now **remembered everything**—the memories of the body he had taken over, the life of the person known as **Klaus Blake**.
**Klaus Blake.** The **sole heir** of the mighty **Blake Family**, one of the most prestigious bloodlines in the entire **Drawen Kingdom**. His father, **Arthur Blake**, and his mother, **Aesla White**, were both **powerhouses**, standing at the **mid-stage of the Celestial Authority Realm**—a level of power feared across the land. But even their strength was **overshadowed** by that of his **grandfather**, **Andrew Blake**, a being at the **early-stage of the Cosmic Sovereign Realm**, a realm that only a handful of people had ever reached. His **grandmother, Rowena Blake**, was no less terrifying, a late-stage **Celestial Authority cultivator** in her own right.
His father, Arthur, had **three younger brothers**, each of whom was in the **Ascended Mind Realm**, making the Blake family an **untouchable force** in the kingdom. But despite the large family tree, **Klaus was the only true heir**, the sole successor of the **Blake bloodline**. Even at the **young age of twenty**, his talent was undeniable—he had already reached the **late stage of the Essence Gathering Realm**, a monstrous achievement that had cemented his reputation as a **once-in-a-millennium genius**.
But his mother's lineage was no less powerful. The **White Family** was **one of the strongest clans**, on par with the Blakes. Aesla White's blood was **ancient**, her ancestors having ruled lands beyond the kingdom's reach.
Yet, **power breeds fear**.
The **Drawen Royal Family**, led by **King Godwin Drawen**, **feared** the growing influence of the **Blake and White families**. They had seen **too many legends rise**, only to be **dethroned by the blade of betrayal**. And so, they schemed.
They wanted **control**, wanted to bring both families **to their knees**, to **force their submission** before the royal authority. And they were not alone in their ambitions—the **Nelson, Chu, Clark, and Li families** had all sided with the king, seeking to **weaken the Blake-White alliance**.
And then, there was **the assassination attempt**.
Someone, perhaps from the **royal faction**, had tried to **kill Klaus**.
His **golden eyes darkened**, the air around him growing **eerily cold** as the weight of his new reality settled in. **Memories of betrayal and politics**, of hidden daggers and whispered conspiracies, now burned brightly in his mind.
He was no longer the **soulless killer known as Hollow**.
But **he also wasn't just Klaus Blake** anymore.
He was **something far more dangerous**.
A cold smirk curled on his lips as he leaned back against the pillows, his mind already spinning with **calculations and plans**. He knew what he had to do. He knew how to **survive**. And more importantly…
He knew how to **become even stronger**.
As he closed his eyes once more, a single thought echoed within his mind—
**"If they want war, then war is what they shall have."**