Once a man in the prime of his life, forged by years of exhausting study—sustained by energy drinks—by harsh military discipline and relentless, grinding labor, he had finally reached the moment to live for himself. Free at last from the weight of financial chains that had kept him from his desires, he found happiness in doing what he loved.

Life showed no mercy. A single accident erased everything he had built in a matter of seconds.

Yet the cycle did not end. He breathed again.

This time, in the body of a child.

Not reborn into warmth or safety, but into captivity—into the body of a young prisoner of war, stripped of freedom, bound for slavery.

His name was Basil, a name meant for greatness.

What I said above, I forgot to add it to the previous chapter, every Saturday will be like this, no chapters from now on, so I can use it for research days and work better on Sunday's chapter.


Chapter 73 - There Is No Chapter Tomorrow.