They called me a genius back on Earth. A threat. The man who broke into systems no one should access. They hunted me for years until... until they took her away.

I died with nothing left to lose.

Then I woke up here—in a world of swords and sorcery I recognize all too well. The "Saga of the Divine Swordsman." Except I'm not the hero. I'm barely a footnote in this epic tale.

That might be my only advantage.

I know this world is doomed. I know the so-called chosen one, Lucifer Windward, isn't enough to stop what's coming. I've seen how this story ends.

But this time, I refuse to be a background character in someone else's tragedy. This time, I'll change the script.

After all, what's fate to a man who's already lost everything once?

https://discord.gg/FK9GfrSjtb

Cecilia found herself standing in the vast, echoing expanse of the Imperial throne room in Avalon. But it was horrifyingly wrong. The familiar grandeur was gone, replaced by decay and neglect. Dust lay thick on the polished obsidian floor, motes dancing visibly in weak, watery beams of light filtering through grime-streaked, towering windows. Priceless tapestries depicting the Empire's history hung frayed and faded, some torn, revealing bare stone beneath. The twin Imperial thrones, usually gleaming symbols of power and continuity, were dull, chipped, shrouded in cobwebs. The air itself felt heavy, stagnant, thick with the cloying scent of dust, decay, and utter, profound failure.


Chapter 1047 - Horrid Past