The first rays of morning light filtered through the thin curtains of the small but cozy inn room. A soft knock echoed on the wooden door before it creaked open gently. Marie, with her auburn hair tied neatly behind her head and a bright smile on her face, stepped inside. In her arms, she held a small folded towel and a pitcher of warm water.
"Young Master Lucien, it's morning. Time to eat some breakfast before we depart," she said gently.
The boy on the bed stirred under a thick wool blanket. His silver hair peeked out, shining faintly in the morning light, and his one red and one gray eye fluttered open, squinting from the drowsiness still clinging to him.
"Mmm... already?" Lucien groaned, stretching his small limbs. The joints in his arms popped softly as he let out a long yawn.
Marie chuckled. "Yes, already. You slept quite soundly last night. Come, I'll help you freshen up."
A few minutes later, the two of them made their way downstairs into the common dining area of the inn. Though the sun had barely climbed the sky, the inn was already bustling. A few adventurers lounged around tables, drinking early ale and eating slabs of roasted meat while exchanging loud stories of last night's ventures.
Lucien and Marie found a quiet table near the window. A serving boy with a stained apron approached and handed them a slightly crinkled menu card. It listed a variety of travel-ready meals—grilled beast sausages, barley porridge with spice, roasted root vegetables, and warm buttered bread.
Marie glanced at Lucien. "What would you like, young master?"
Lucien scanned the options before pointing at the sausage and porridge set. "That one. And some tea too, please."
Marie nodded and placed the order with the boy, who hurried off toward the kitchen. Not long after, steaming plates arrived. The sausages were thick and juicy, the porridge creamy with a drizzle of honey, and the bread still warm. The tea came in a clay cup, fragrant and soothing.
Lucien dug in, savoring every bite. Marie ate as well, her etiquette sharp despite the rustic setting. Around them, the other patrons barely paid attention, focused on their own affairs.
As they finished their meal, Lucien peeked out the window and saw a small group of armored figures moving outside. Knight Rex and the six A-rank knights were already awake and in formation. Their horses—majestic magical beasts with disciplined eyes and strong, polished hooves—were saddled and waiting. Their gear glimmered subtly beneath the early sun, and their discipline stood out even in such a mundane setting.
Marie stood and wiped Lucien's mouth with a napkin before helping him down from his seat. "Come on. Let's not keep Sir Rex waiting."
Stepping outside, Lucien took in the view of the morning sky. A light mist clung to the edges of the trees nearby, and birds chirped cheerfully as they fluttered from branch to branch.
Knight Rex spotted them emerging and waved with a gloved hand. "Young Master Lucien! Over here!"
The golden-eyed knight stood beside the main carriage—an opulent creation of reinforced silverwood and enchanted steel, bearing the winged lion sigil of House Velebrandt. The magical horse pulling it was cloaked in light dark flame, its eyes calm yet glowing faintly with mana.
Lucien smiled and hurried over. One of the knights opened the carriage door for him. "Your seat, young master."
He stepped inside, settling back into the same plush cushion he had rested in days prior. The inside of the carriage was as luxurious as ever, lined with fine velvet and protective magic runes that shimmered faintly when touched by the light.
Marie, meanwhile, made her way to her own smaller carriage—still elegant but more practical. The maids of House Velebrandt were not treated lightly, especially not ones personally assigned to the heir.
With everyone in position, Knight Rex mounted his steed at the head of the convoy. His cloak billowed slightly in the wind, trimmed with silver thread, his blade sheathed at his hip.
With a low whistle, the convoy began moving.
They passed along a smooth dirt road bordered by wide grasslands and scattered forests. Villages flitted by, each one humble but full of life—farmers waving as they tilled the earth, children running through fields with makeshift wooden swords, old vendors hawking their wares from brightly colored carts.
Lucien watched through the window, resting his cheek against his hand. The world passed slowly and beautifully.
They crossed paths with merchant caravans—wagons loaded with grain, fruit, cloth, and ores—and bands of adventurers riding strong horses with travel-worn cloaks fluttering behind them. One adventurer group, likely fresh from a dungeon crawl, had the distinct smell of iron and mana about them.
The convoy continued steadily. By the end of the second day, the dirt road transitioned into a stone-paved route, leading toward a rising hill. Beyond it, at the horizon, loomed the massive outer walls of the Empire's capital—tall enough to blot the fading sun and wide enough to stretch past the eye's reach.
"There it is..." Lucien whispered, his breath catching.
Knight Rex slowed his pace, eyes narrowing as he assessed the terrain. The sun was dipping lower in the sky, and the air began to cool. Though the gates were in sight, they would not reach them before nightfall.
He turned his horse and approached Lucien's carriage. Signaling to the driver, he dismounted and climbed up beside the window, knocking gently.
Lucien opened it. "Yes, Sir Rex?"
"We're stopping here for the night. There's a clearing off the road—good visibility and defensible terrain. I don't want to approach the city in the dark."
Lucien nodded, not surprised. "Alright. Do we set up camp?"
"Yes. We'll be nearby at all times."
Within the hour, a small but well-guarded camp was established. Enchanted tents were pitched, a ward perimeter was drawn, and the carriages circled around for protection. A small campfire crackled to life, and one of the knights cooked simple rations.
Lucien sat beside the fire, a blanket over his lap, staring into the flames. He wasn't nervous. If anything, he felt calm. Peaceful.
Tomorrow, he would enter the capital for the first time.
And in one week, he would awaken the power that would determine the course of his future.
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The deep indigo canopy of the night sky stretched infinitely above, jeweled with countless stars. Each twinkle shimmered like a blessing cast upon the quiet earth, casting down beams of ancient starlight over the peaceful camp. Two moons—one a pale silver, the other glowing faintly blue—floated in the sky like twin guardians of the night. Their light painted the grasslands in a soft, dreamlike glow. The blades of grass glistened faintly with dew, and the night wind carried with it the scent of pine and wild herbs, fresh and soul-cleansing.
Lucien Caelum Velebrandt, now nine years old, lay sprawled atop the soft grass beside the campfire. He wore a contented smile, his white hair glimmering under the gentle moonlight. His body, still that of a child, was long enough now to stretch comfortably along the cushioned blanket Marie had placed beneath him earlier. Yet he had wriggled his way off the blanket, letting the cool touch of the earth remind him that this moment—this breeze, this sky, this stillness—was real.
They had just finished their dinner: smoked venison and flatbread seasoned with dried herbs. The meat had been hunted earlier in the day by two of the A-rank knights. Though not magical, the meal had been warm and satisfying. Around the fire sat Marie, gently cleaning a pan with a soft cloth, her long brown hair tucked neatly behind her ears. She occasionally glanced toward Lucien with a fond smile.
Knight Rex and the six A-rank guards were further away, polishing weapons, checking saddlebags, and scanning the perimeter in shifts. They had set up their camp at a small hill overlooking a moonlit field. The tall trees nearby rustled with the breeze, whispering secrets of the forest. An owl hooted in the distance, its call oddly comforting.
Lucien rested his hands behind his head and stared up at the sky. His red and gray eyes reflected the lights above, twin pools of curiosity and wonder. The excitement that had been building up in him since their departure now bubbled over in silence.
Tomorrow… or perhaps the day after… he would enter the Central Empire.
He couldn't help but smile.
The Central Empire. The heart of humanity. Five times larger than the Velebrandt Estate. Fifty million people. Even Lucien, whose former life had known bustling metropolises and crowded cities, felt a rush of awe at the scale. The thought of mingling with nobles, heroes, and talented prodigies from across the continent made his heart flutter. The buildings, the magic, the endless sea of culture and conflict—the possibilities were endless.
"So many people in one place," he whispered to himself. "So many secrets. So many chances."
And then there was the power he would soon awaken.
He rolled onto his side, his fingers playing with a blade of grass as the wind rustled through his hair. It had grown longer these past months, the soft silver strands dancing gently in the moonlight. Awakening. The ceremony where all humans who reached ten years of age would be brought before the Church of Elyssira, and have their system unlocked. Where their fate would begin to take shape.
What would his power be?
He had chosen talents above EX-rank during his reincarnation. Surely they would manifest soon. He could almost feel the mana around him reacting. Like something ancient and primal inside him was waiting—just waiting—for the seal to break.
And then there were the people waiting for him at the capital.
His mother, Seraphina Lysandra Velebrandt, was not just the Archduchess of the West. She was the Imperial Princess of the Empire. That made him royalty too. Not by name, but by blood.
And his uncle...
The Crown Prince. The legitimate heir of the Empire. A man of his own age, raised in the center of power, blessed by the Imperial Court and watched by millions. Lucien wondered what kind of person he was. A rival? A friend? A future enemy?
"Either way," Lucien muttered to the stars, "I'll shine brighter."
He chuckled softly to himself. His voice was swept away by the breeze.
Despite everything—the reincarnation, the weight of this world, the enemies yet to rise—this life had been... beautiful. From the warmth of his mother's arms, to the laughter he shared with his little brother Emilien. From the stern guidance of Knight Rex to the gentle companionship of Marie.
There was no war here.
No Abyssian horrors.
No screams.
Just peace.
Lucien had learned in his studies that the Abyssian King had already been resurrected. That the world was once again circling the spiral of fate. But out here, in the safe domain of the Velebrandt, it was as though none of that mattered. As though history had taken a breath. It was calm. Too calm.
Perhaps the real storm hadn't reached them yet.
But it would.
"I'll be ready," Lucien said under his breath, as sleep pulled his consciousness away.
The wind whispered through the field.
The two moons continued their silent vigil.
And in the moonlight, a boy with a soul from another world, and a future that would shake the continents, slept with a smile on his lips—his silver hair glowing like starlight against the night.
Tomorrow, the journey would continue.
But tonight... the stars belonged to him.