The villain was reincarnated as the son of the Hero who killed him
Prologue: The Fall of the Black Wolf
The war had dragged on for years—too many years, too many lives lost. Two kingdoms, locked in an endless dance of blood and fire. But today, something was supposed to change.
The grand hall was filled with uneasy silence, broken only by the faint scratching of quills and the rustle of silk. Leaders and soldiers from both sides sat across from each other, faces hard as stone, eyes filled with suspicion.
In the center, the peace treaty lay like a fragile promise, white as fresh snow but stained with the weight of countless sacrifices.
I sat at the head of the table—Commander of the Eastern Forces, known to some as the Black Wolf. They called me cruel, ruthless, a villain without mercy. Maybe I was all those things. Or maybe I was just a man tired of war.
Across from me, Elias—the hero of the West, the golden boy of the kingdom. A man I had once trusted, once fought beside. Now, the man who wanted me dead.
I studied his face. Calm, serene, as if this ceremony was just another step toward peace.
I had a knife hidden beneath my cloak. Not for show. Not for defense. For the end.
I'd been ambushed before—once, twice, a dozen times. But today, I planned to end it on my own terms. To put a stop to the war, even if it cost me everything.
As the treaty was signed, the air shifted.
Elias smiled. A smile too cold for peace.
Before I could react, his blade flashed. Pain exploded in my chest, searing, unstoppable.
The world narrowed. The treaty beneath me stained crimson.
I fell, and the hall erupted into chaos.
But as darkness claimed me, I knew one thing with certainty:
This was not how my story would end.
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Years later, in a cradle far from the battlefield, a child cried out—a child born with no memory of the man he once was, yet carrying the spark of a legacy that refused to die.
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