POV – Kael Lanpar
Silence was the only thing surrounding the place—a constant echo that reminded me of every moment I had to endure to end up in this situation.
A life granted by someone's wish for a second chance… and the stained memories of a man still walking with chains around his feet, unable to break free from the endless cycle of guilt.
I had learned to accept that I wasn't always in control. In this life, just like in the one before, I had to learn that lesson the hard way—and now that realization seemed more rooted in me than I'd like to admit.
"I know I'm not welcome here," I spoke softly, measuring every word. "I understand the resentment toward my blood. But as you said… I don't belong to this world either."
"My presence here isn't driven by ill intentions," I continued, locking eyes with him.
"It's strange… someone with such a bloody past saying those words so calmly," Vastiar exclaimed before snapping his fingers.
The sound created by the clash of two pure shadows made the ground tremble, as a freezing, almost glacial wind began to sweep through the place, triggering a transformation in the entire environment.
The chandeliers, the marble walls… even the people frozen in time were now statues made of ice so solid, it seemed unbreakable.
"How strange… I don't feel cold," I whispered to myself, realizing how indifferent my body was to the dark, frozen atmosphere that surrounded me.
"It's normal to feel nothing here," Vastiar said, pulling me out of my thoughts. "Everything you see is not real—they're just images."
"Images? Feels more like your doing," I replied sarcastically. "If I'm not mistaken, your surname is Iceheart… Now the setting makes sense."
Apparently, my comment didn't amuse him. He merely sighed, and in an instant, his appearance changed. A green flame engulfed him entirely, dissolving the darkness of his shadow, until a man appeared—one about my father's age.
He looked like a formidable warrior. The scars on his face and the hardened expression spoke of years of experience. But what caught my attention most was his red hair—just like Airis's.
"Don't get it twisted, boy," Vastiar said, raising his voice. "Though my presence here shows I have some power, this is nothing more than a manifestation of your mind… of what your soul is trying to express."
I wasn't sure whether it was a good thing that my memories had brought me to this place at this exact moment. But if my soul was trying to tell me something… I didn't understand it. And that's the problem—I don't even understand myself.
"I'd like to know something," I said, closing my eyes. "How do you know about my reincarnation?"
His silence answered for him. I understood immediately—this was going to be a long conversation… and yes, he knew why I was here.
Within seconds, snowflakes began falling from the sky, drifting slowly in every direction, marking a second transformation of the place.
I opened my eyes slowly, and found myself standing on an endless lake, covered by a thin layer of water—so still it allowed me to walk as if it were solid ground. The only light came from a moon shining with a serene, harmonious glow.
"I see you've realized who's in control here," he said, stepping closer to where I stood.
I nodded, relaxing for the first time in what felt like forever. After being so tense, unsure whether I'd survive this encounter or lose the only chance I had to free myself from the questions that still haunted me, I finally felt a moment of clarity.
"The truth is… I don't know what to feel about you," he said in a deep, conflicted voice. "You are neither the reincarnated one, nor the chosen one… You're merely a fragment of the puppeteer."
"What do you mean by 'fragment'?" I asked, a cold sweat beginning to run down my body—as if something invisible was warning me not to seek the truth.
"I'll ask you one question, and I want you to answer it with complete honesty," he said, his voice gentle but causing me to tremble. "Do you feel anything when you remember your past?"
My mind went blank, trying to find an answer. But there was none. That's when I understood: I only saw the memories… I didn't feel them.
"I'll take your silence as an answer," he continued firmly. "What you see in your mind are merely snapshots of another person… of a different Matías Castleboard."
"From the true soul of the sinner you believe yourself to be," Vastiar finished—plunging a dagger into me I hadn't even noticed… and yet, it was already wounding me.
There were still so many things I didn't understand since my fight with the Prophet, but now, more than ever, everything was starting to make sense.
That strange sensation I had while fighting him… as if my consciousness had only begun to exist in that very moment. I finally understood why my emotions always felt disorganized, like something else was pulling the strings.
I was remembering the life of someone I never was. Carrying the weight of deaths I never caused, drowning in blood I never spilled.
"This… this is impossible," I stammered, losing control of my words. "Damn it! You think I'm that easy to manipulate?"
"Calm down, boy!" Vastiar shouted. "I gain nothing from manipulating you. You came to this sacred place seeking answers, not comfort."
"I'm dreaming…" I whispered, clutching my hair tightly. "I don't think I've even woken up from the blow against that tree."
"Even if this were a dream, it would still count as a revelation," he replied calmly. "This is the Hall of Astral Existence—a place touched by divinity. You can't escape its words."
Those words were the final blow I needed to lose all strength. I collapsed to the ground, my knees crashing against the thin layer of water surrounding me, and within seconds, I was vomiting… as if my entire existence had been a lie from the very beginning.
Before I could process anything—before I could even try to deny it—an avalanche of memories hit my mind like a tsunami. Memories I didn't even know I had.
I saw the person I believed myself to be… holding what looked like a god by the neck. Then, in a flash, another image: walking without remorse through a sea of blood and corpses, humming a song as if nothing had happened.
"Boy, snap out of it! Don't let it consume you!" Vastiar's figure appeared in front of me, shaking me violently. But it was no use. I was trapped.
Like I had been injected with a drug, I was thrown back into those memories—but this time, with emotions. I began to feel things I never thought existed within me.
I felt someone tearing out my eye… then, my body consumed by flames, burning with a fire that nearly vaporized me.
The guilt. The fear. The hatred. It all intensified. I felt myself losing control—not just of my soul, but of my very consciousness. I was falling apart.
"Everyone will die," Matías's voice thundered in my mind, followed by others that spoke only of death and destruction.
"Damn it, kid!" Vastiar's voice again.
With what little strength I had left, I could barely whisper, tears streaming from my eyes:"Help me, Vastiar… kill me. I can't take it anymore…"
"Nogata Zero!" he shouted, placing his hand over my head.
The moment he uttered those words, calm returned. My back hit the ground, my body trembling uncontrollably, and my eyes wouldn't stop crying.
"Thank you… thank you, Vastiar," I said between gasps and sobs.
"If I hadn't stopped your damned multiversal journey, your mind and soul probably would've collapsed… or even ceased to exist," Vastiar panted.
"What kind of cursed seal did that demon put on you?" he continued. "It drained all my mana…"
My body… even my mind… had stopped working. I didn't even know how to think anymore. Rather than revealing something to me, this nearly killed me.
"My son… you are not to blame for anything," the voices of my two fathers began to echo in my head. "Always, no matter what… you must keep going. Life is a gift not everyone learns to value."
"Your family… and those who will always stand by your side, they love you," now it was the voices of my two mothers. "You decide how your story is written. You forge your path and lead your freedom. You just have to keep moving forward."
How are you supposed to start from nothing… knowing you are nothing? And even if your hands are stained, they weren't the ones that made the choices that condemned you.
What would you do if you knew you carried the knowledge of someone you are not—but through it, could learn how not to repeat their mistakes?
I had screamed to the heavens a freedom that wasn't mine. I had proclaimed peace… to someone who never even needed forgiveness.
I swallowed hard, slowly pulling myself back together. With the little strength I managed to gather from within my scattered thoughts, I stood up—still trembling, still crying… but finally understanding why.
"What was your goal in helping me?" I asked, still struggling to speak. "You had nothing to gain from this… You just wanted to watch me suffer."
Even though my legs were still trembling, I began to walk toward Vastiar. My steps were unsteady. At times, I lost control of my body, but I forced myself forward until I was standing right in front of him.
"What kind of demon sends a part of himself to another world… without wanting something in return?" I whispered in his ear.
"I won't let him come back," I went on. "This is my body now. I am the reincarnated one—not him."
If my words were meant to prove I had control over anything… I was completely wrong.
My eyes shut. My legs gave out. I collapsed backward, unconscious, falling asleep with a dull thud against the ground.
Then, unconsciousness took me.
(Some time later)
I didn't know how long had passed. But the pounding headache and the stiffness in my limbs—like they were made of stone—told me I had slept on solid rock.
"Good morning, Sleeping Beauty," Vastiar's distorted voice echoed in my ears. "I see you've finally woken up after that lovely bump you gave yourself."
My head was still trying to reorganize the words I was hearing. I was slowly growing accustomed to someone else's presence again.
"How long was I out?" I asked, rubbing my aching head.
"I'd be lying if I gave you a number," he whispered. "There are no hours or minutes here. Time has no meaning inside your soul."
I sighed at his answer. I accepted it… not like I had a choice. Then, with a firmer tone, I asked:
"Why did you help me?"
Vastiar didn't reply immediately. Silence took over the moment as he searched for his words.
"You could say… out of pity. I'm not a monster. And neither is my clan," he said calmly. "Even as a mere reflection of who I once was, I still have feelings."
He paused for a moment before continuing.
"But as you know, nothing in life comes for free."
"If what you want is to be brought back to life, or to have me wipe out my clan… then I can't help you," I replied with a touch of sarcasm, but also with conviction.
For the first time, I saw him smile. I didn't know if it was amusement, bitterness, or even scorn. But the words that followed made it clear—it was the first.
"You really do surprise me," he said, ruffling my hair like a father would. "You carry the soul of a child… and the body of one too. The only thing inside you are the memories of a killer you never were."
"If it's any comfort… what I want to give you might offer you a purpose," he added, starting to rise to his feet.
His words brought back the memory of the collapse. I remembered why I had fainted. Why my eyes were still red.
"Do you know what a blood pact is?" he asked, crossing his arms.
Back at the castle, during my free time while I was still training with Alfin, I'd sneak into my father's office now and then, searching for useful information about this world… and the magic that governed it.
During one of those secret incursions—without my parents' knowledge—I came across a book that spoke of blood pacts. According to what it said, more than just an agreement between two people, it was a bond that entwined their souls through their blood.
"I know a bit about it. Why do you bring up a blood pact?" I asked, starting to suspect his intention.
"Like I told you, this could give you purpose. I won't force you to accept it… but if you do, I swear you won't regret it," his voice nearly turned into a plea—and for a moment, it made me feel guilty.
"Airis is my descendant. She carries the Iceheart bloodline in her veins," he began, trying to persuade me. "Besides your grandfather… she has no one else. That's why I ask you to become her protector, and to…"
"I accept your request," I interrupted firmly.
The surprise on his face was immediate. He hadn't expected it… much less that I would respond so quickly.
"Are… are you serious about this?" he stammered, still unsure.
"I have no reason to refuse… especially now that I know I need to start being different from him," I replied, letting out a long sigh.
Before I could react, I felt Vastiar embrace me tightly, as if he had just found a hope he'd been searching for a long time.
"Thank you, Kael… really, thank you," he said, almost in tears. "Promise me you'll protect her… that you'll always stay by her side."
After pain comes revelation. And sooner or later, one learns—whether the easy or the hard way—to live with it.
Now I had two options: stay here, curled up, still crying over having been manipulated…
Or take hold of my existence—this opportunity—and prove that I'm a different Matías. Not the one who destroyed an entire world… but the one who took the first step in the right direction.
After several minutes during which Vastiar explained the ritual and the necessary vows, I found myself standing before the exit… a new reality I would have to face.
I looked down at the dagger in my hands. It burned with a fierce, protective flame. Inscribed on it were words that would forever remind me why I chose this path.
Armonius — ancient Racing for "the one who chose to rise from the ashes of memory."
I placed my hand on the door and opened it, leaving behind an identity I never asked to carry. Now I had to prepare… because if he had managed to deceive Dextrina, it was likely he was already taking his first steps toward returning.
When I opened the door, I didn't return through the same secret passage I'd entered from. But the smell of blood and death—and the scene before me—confirmed that I was still in the same place.
"Kael! How did it go?" my grandfather's voice called out, worried, as he ran toward me.
"All went fine… I think," I said, waving to him. "How long was I gone?"
"A few minutes," Airis replied, jumping down from a tree. "We were just about to leave. We weren't planning to stay here forever."
"Right… now that I think of it, some guy named Vastiar Iceheart gave me this," I said, holding out a ring. "He was my guide in…"
"What did you say his name was?" she interrupted, her voice cracking.
"Vastiar Iceheart. Did I say something wrong?"
I didn't have time to react before Airis threw herself at me, hugging me tightly.
"Vastiar… was my father. I can't believe the Hall chose him to be your guide," she said, her voice trembling.
Her words helped me understand so much. Vastiar only wanted to ensure his daughter's life—to give her a peaceful, happy childhood.
And even if I still didn't understand why he asked me not to tell Airis that I had become her protector… I knew I would keep that promise.
"He said he loved you, Airis… and that he missed you deeply," I told her gently, stroking her head to calm her tears.
"Kael, Airis… as much as I'd love for you to keep talking," my grandfather cut in, pausing to catch his breath, "we have to get to the estate. You can talk along the way."
Airis looked at him pleadingly. In that moment, she reminded me that, in the end, she was still just a child. And in a way… so was I. I had the memories of an adult, yes—but not the experience of having lived with them. I'd have to learn that part.
"I promise I'll tell you everything your father said to me," I told Airis, and her smile in response broke my heart.
I was carrying far too much… for just a fragment. But what defines whether you deserve to live isn't fate—it's how fiercely you choose to live, and how far you're willing to go to defend your existence.
I watched as Airis and my grandfather ran ahead through the trees. I looked once more at the dagger in my hand, its soul-bound crimson glow burning faintly.
It was the witness of my first promise in this world.
"Kael, hurry up! We don't have all day!" my grandfather shouted.
I sighed. Then activated astral magic, combining wind and lightning. In the blink of an eye, I was already beside them—ready to face whatever came next.
If these were my father's orders… then chances were, it wouldn't be good news.