The scene opened inside a room steeped in opulence.
Golden mana lamps cast a soft, steady glow across silk-draped walls carved with ancient sigils. The air itself felt heavy, refined, carrying a faint scent of rare incense. At the very center of the room rested an enormous bed layered with embroidered sheets fit for royalty.
Upon it lay a boy—no more than nine years old.
His body was still, his chest unmoving, as if life itself had abandoned him.
Suddenly, his eyes flew open.
He sucked in a sharp breath, then another, his small chest rising and falling violently as he gasped for air. His heartbeat thundered in his ears, each pulse echoing like a war drum. Cold sweat drenched his body, soaking the sheets beneath him.
His vision swam.
Blurry shapes twisted and overlapped as he struggled to focus, the world spinning as though reality itself had been torn apart and hastily stitched back together. He clutched at the bed beneath him, fingers trembling.
"H–huff… huff…"
The boy panted heavily, his breath uneven and desperate.
"I… I was just…" he whispered hoarsely, his voice shaking. "I was dying."
His breathing slowed slightly as his vision began to clear. The ceiling above him was unfamiliar—vaulted, elegant, inlaid with glowing patterns that pulsed faintly with mana. Panic surged through his chest.
"I'm… alive?" he muttered, disbelief thick in his tone. "I'm still alive?"
His eyes darted around the room.
The furniture was exquisite, every piece radiating authority and wealth beyond anything he had ever seen. Curtains woven with silver thread. Walls adorned with royal crests. Even the bed he lay upon felt unreal, far too grand for someone like him.
He froze.
"W–where am I…?" he murmured, his voice barely audible. His throat felt dry, his mind racing as fragments of memories clashed violently within him.
"…Did I die?" he whispered.
His gaze trembled as it wandered across the lavish chamber once more.
"…Is this heaven?"
His name had been Chen.
In his previous life, he had been a cultivator—one who clawed his way up from nothing, one who trusted only his blade and his strength. He still remembered it clearly. Too clearly.
A sect mission.
A beast tide that had spiraled out of control.
Endless roars shaking the earth, the sky drowned in blood and smoke. He had fought until his qi ran out and his limbs no longer obeyed him. Surrounded. Overwhelmed.
And in the final moment—
Death.
The memory slammed into him like a hammer.
Chen's pupils contracted sharply as pain throbbed through his skull. He clutched his head, teeth grinding as fragmented memories surged violently, colliding with unfamiliar sensations that did not belong to him.
"I… I was killed…" he muttered, his breath hitching. "I died fighting the beast tide…"
Before he could process the thought further—
Ding.
The sound rang out clearly inside his head.
Not through his ears.
Directly within his consciousness.
Chen stiffened.
His heart skipped a beat as a calm, feminine voice echoed through his mind. It was smooth, emotionless, carrying an unmistakable mechanical undertone.
[System initialization in progress.]
His breathing stopped.
"What…?" His lips moved, but no sound came out.
[Loading… 1%]
[Loading… 2%]
[Loading… 4%]
The voice continued, steady and indifferent, as if it had done this countless times before.
Chen's eyes widened in shock.
A system?
The loading sequence advanced, each silent notification sending a chill down his spine.
[System compatibility confirmed.]
[Host consciousness stabilized.]
Chen swallowed hard.
The voice spoke once more, calm and absolute.
[Initialization nearing completion.]
The voice returned, clear and commanding.
[Initialization complete. Compatibility with host: 100%. Welcome to the Primal Desire System.]
At once, a floating, translucent blue rectangle appeared before the boy. Inside it, lines of glowing golden text shimmered, each word radiating authority. His small eyes widened as he scanned the display.
Name: Alen Vhalcaryn
Age: 9
Gender: Male
Bloodline: None
Cultivation: None
Abilities: None
Techniques: None
Partners: None
System Shop: Locked
Love Points: 100
System Points: 0
System Level: 1
Alen blinked repeatedly. His small hands trembled as he took in the information. It took him several long seconds to fully grasp what he was seeing. Slowly, he looked down at his body—his own body—a child's body, fragile and small. The realization hit him like a lightning strike.
He had been reborn.
"…I… I'm a child?" he whispered, voice quivering. "This… this body… I'm… reincarnated?"
He swallowed hard, and instinctively, he tried to speak to the voice.
"Hey! Can you hear me? Where are you? How can you speak directly to my mind? And… where am I?"
The system responded instantly, calm and neutral as ever:
[Scanning the world… Scanning complete. This world is Eldara.]
Alen's heart skipped. His mind raced to piece everything together. This was not his world—it was different, alien, yet familiar in a way that stirred something deep inside him. The world around him would now be his to explore, cultivate, and conquer.
[Host identified as royal: Alen Vhalcaryn. Position: Prince of the Human Continent.]
[World Structure: 8 continents, each dominated by a distinct race.]
[Races identified: Humans, Demons, Elves, Angels, Witches, Dragons, Vampires, Beastmen.]
The boy's breath hitched as clarity dawned on him. He was no longer Chen, the cultivator who had died amidst the chaos of a beast tide. He was Alen, a royal prince reborn in a world brimming with power, mystery, and danger.
He could feel the weight of destiny settle onto his young shoulders. And through it all, the Primal Desire System waited—silent, patient, ready to shape him into something far beyond a mere child.
Alen's gaze hardened. "So… this is eldara," he murmured. "And this… is my new life."
After a brief exchange with the system, clarity finally settled in.
Piece by piece, Alen understood the truth. This Primal Desire System was his cheat—his greatest advantage in this unfamiliar world. It would guide his growth, accelerate his cultivation, and reshape his destiny. In return, he would be required to complete tasks set by the system. Success would grant rewards. Failure would carry consequences.
It was not charity.
It was a contract.
Alen exhaled slowly, his young face hardening with resolve. If this system was the reason he had been reborn, then he would use it—fully and without hesitation.
A moment of silence passed before the system spoke again.
[Host, I will now begin transferring the memories of this body.]
[Warning: The process will cause discomfort.]
[Recommendation: Brace yourself.]
Alen clenched his fists.
"Do it," he said without hesitation, determination ringing in his voice. "I can handle it."
There was no further warning.
The instant the transfer began, a searing pain exploded inside his mind.
Memories—countless, overwhelming, foreign—flooded into him all at once. Faces, voices, emotions, years of experiences that were not his own crashed against his consciousness like a tidal wave. His vision went white as agony tore through his skull.
"A—AAAAH!"
A piercing scream echoed throughout the luxurious chamber, shattering the silence. Alen's small body convulsed violently on the bed as veins throbbed against his temples.
"S–system!" he screamed hoarsely. "You bastard! You said it would only hurt a little!"
The pain only intensified.
The memories continued to pour in relentlessly—royal etiquette, palace corridors, tutors, servants, expectations, pressure, fear. The life of Alen Vhalcaryn, the young royal prince, carved itself brutally into his mind.
Within seconds, the overload became too much.
Alen's eyes rolled back, his scream cutting off abruptly as his body went limp. He collapsed unconscious onto the silk sheets, his chest rising and falling erratically.
Inside his mind, the system remained utterly unfazed.
[Memory transfer: Ongoing.]
[Host status: Unconscious.]
[Assessment: Pain levels within acceptable parameters.]
The blue interface flickered once before fading from view.
The room returned to silence.
Unaware of it, as the memories fused completely with his soul, the foundations of a future sovereign were quietly being laid—one forged through pain, desire, and an authority that would one day shake the world of eldara itself.