I, Lucian Arcturus Drevahn, an Emperor of the Drevahn Empire has everything. Riches? Beauty? Power? Fame? Just name it.
As the seventh prince of Drevahn Empire it is impossible for me to become the crown prince just by letting the faith decide and this is my story of how I got to where I am now.
When I was born, unlike my elder brothers and sisters who came from the Empress or concubines of powerful bloodlines, I was the most pitiful of all. My mother, though a woman of rare beauty—so much so that even the Empress could not compare—was but a commoner, a mere servant within the palace walls. One fateful night, my father, the previous Emperor Callistus Arcturus Drevahn, known as the Tyrant Emperor, in a drunken haze violated her. From that tragedy, I came into this world.
Perhaps because of guilt, or simply being bewildered by her beauty and the fact that she was carrying his child after that night, my mother became the beloved concubine of my father despite the criticism of the nobles. And I, as her son, also became his favorite child.
Thanks to my parents' genes, I grew up being exceptional in both looks and physique, almost a perfect reflection of my father. Golden hair and ruby-like eyes—the signature traits of the royal lineage—combined with my mother's perfect features, made me envied by my elder brothers and sisters. Not just them, but all the powerful noble children my age.
How could they not? My father loved me so much.
"How can such a bastard exist?!" Is all they can think but no one voiced it out loud, afraid of my father's wrath.
When I was still a child, only I, among his children, could sit on his lap—even while he was on his throne or in important official meetings. I was free to go wherever I wanted; there were no such things as forbidden places in the palace for me.
I grew up under my father's teachings, and soon found myself becoming just like him—ruthless and merciless. Befitting of the successor of my father. After all, among my brothers, only I had the talent to surpass him. A genius that appears only once in a millennium.
My mother never said anything about my behavior or questioned my father's teachings and simply supported whatever I wanted. That led me to become more confident and achieve even more, trying to prove that I was worthy of my father's love among all my siblings.
All my mother cared about was me and my father, and she never once meddled in politics.
My mother, who never stopped my father from doing whatever he wanted and always supported him, made my father even more captivated by her. It felt more like an obsession than love. He never took another concubine again and focused all his attention on us.
When I was fifteen, my battle prowess already rivaled that of a General, and I became my father's treasure. At the young age of 15, I achieved the title of the youngest swordmaster in history—something even my father, known as a prodigy, only managed to achieve when he was 23 years old. And for a normal person, even if they poured everything they had into training, only a few ever managed to reach it.
"Father, I want to inherit your throne when I grow up. I want to be like you. What should I do?" I said, looking up at him with bright eyes, my heart beating a little faster than usual.
My father just laughed, amused by my high ambition.
"You little bastard, your father is still young and alive, yet you already dare to covet my throne?" He said, flicking my forehead.
"Ow! Ouchhh! Fatherrrr!!! That hurtssss!" I pouted, holding my forehead dramatically. I felt sulky that my father didn't take me seriously at all.
"Tell me!!!!! Or I'll tell Mom you drank again last night~"
"Tsk, what a handful child. Who did you learn to be that stubborn huh?" Where else? Of course from him. "I'll naturally hand it to you when I'm about to die… maybe when you're 70 years old?" he said, laughing and teasing me.
But my father is a liar.
After becoming a swordmaster, I embarked on a journey to gain experience and make a name for myself, challenging various swordmasters across the continent almost every day.
When I was still far away from the Empire, I heard that a war had broken out between a neighboring kingdom and our empire. To me, it was just my father bullying a small kingdom, so I didn't pay it any attention and continued my journey.
My father was a powerful figure. He was a swordmaster himself, the leader of a powerful empire—so how could he be defeated by such a small kingdom? Never once did I even consider it possible when I heard the news. I was complacent, after all—we were talking about my father.
He went to the battlefield when I was seventeen and never came back. He died on that battlefield. Yes—my father, who felt like an unbeatable character and a role model to me, died at the hands of that small kingdom.
I rushed back home when I heard the news, convincing myself that all of this was just a prank my father was pulling to make me return. But when I finally came back—without stopping my journey, arriving after one and a half months—I was greeted by two graves bearing my parents' names.
At that moment, I felt as if the whole world had suddenly been placed on my back. A heavy and unpleasant feeling ran through my body as a sharp pain stabbed my heart. It turned out that my mother, gravely hurt by my father's sudden death, caught an unknown illness and, just a month later, followed him.
I had just been recognized as a legendary being—a Grandmaster—leaping above all swordmasters, a rank that only five people in history had ever achieved.
"AAAAAAAGGGHHHHHH!!!! FATHER, YOU LIAR!!!!"
My voice tore out of my throat, raw and broken, filled with rage and disbelief. I wasn't even sure who I was shouting at anymore — him, the sky, or myself.
"You said you'd give me your throne at the age of seventy! SEVENTY!!! I'M ONLY SEVENTEEN!!!! LIAR!!!! LIAR!!!!!"
The words spilled out in a mess, half accusation, half plea. It felt unfair, cruel — like the world had broken a promise it never had the right to touch.
"Don't joke around like this!!!"
My chest felt tight, as if something was crushing it from the inside. I was desperately clinging to the idea that this was just one of his twisted jokes.
"This is not true!!! This is not true… This is not true…"
Each repetition grew weaker, my voice shaking as denial slowly turned into fear. I kept saying it, hoping the words themselves could rewrite reality.
"GET UP!!!!"
I lunged forward without thinking, my hands trembling, as if shouting louder could force life back into cold stone.
"MOTHERRRRR!!! MOTHERRRRR!!!! Please—wake up… please don't leave me too…"
The anger finally collapsed into desperation. My voice cracked, turning small and pathetic, no longer that of a proud grandmaster — just a son begging not to be alone.
"ARGHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!"
The scream that followed wasn't words anymore, just pain. Pure, ugly, helpless pain.
I screamed like a madman at the graves of my parents, not caring about my reputation anymore.
In that moment, I wasn't a legend, a prodigy, or a future emperor. I was just a seventeen-year-old who had lost everything.
"DON'T LEAVE ME!!!!"
The words burst out of me in pure panic, louder than I ever thought my voice could go. It wasn't pride, it wasn't anger anymore — it was fear. The kind that comes when you realize you're truly alone.
"I'M NOW GRANDMASTER! I FINALLY SURPASSED YOU, FATHER….."
I shouted it like a confession, like an achievement I had been saving just for him. There was no triumph in my voice, only regret — regret that I was too late to show him, too late to hear his praise.
"BUT WHAT'S THIS?!!!!!"
My laughter almost escaped, hollow and broken, as if mocking myself. What was the point of reaching the peak if the person I wanted to stand beside wasn't there anymore?
"ARGHHHHHHHH NOOOOO!!!!!"
The pain finally overflowed, ripping through my chest. It felt unbearable, like something inside me was tearing apart.
"COME BACK PLEASE!!!!"
This time, I wasn't shouting in anger — I was begging. My pride, my strength, my title… none of it mattered. I would throw everything away if it meant seeing them again.
"MOTHER…. FATHER….."
Their names left my lips softly, almost like a child calling for comfort in the dark. My voice trembled, weak and helpless.
I continued to yell and scream at their graves as if that would bring them back.
Some part of me knew it was useless, but I couldn't stop. If I stayed silent, it would mean accepting reality — and I wasn't ready for that.
My tears flowed out uncontrollably as I broke down and cried in front of their graves.
My body finally gave up. I fell to my knees, shoulders shaking, sobs tearing out of me without restraint. For the first time in my life, I wasn't strong enough to carry the weight of the world anymore.
"I now achieved greatness but… what's the point of all of this when you're not here?"
My voice was no longer loud. It came out hoarse, almost empty, as if all the strength I had earlier was finally drained from me.
"You said you love me… but why did you leave me so early?"
There was no anger in the question, only confusion. A child's question that had no answer, no matter how many times it was asked.
"Mother, why did you follow Father?"
The words slipped out softly, like I was afraid of disturbing them even in death.
"How about me?"
That was the one that hurt the most. It wasn't a shout, not even a cry — just a quiet thought spoken aloud, fragile and desperate. My tears flowed like water, as if the heavens themselves pitied me. I didn't bother wiping them away anymore. They just kept falling, one after another, endless. A rain suddenly fell, while I stood alone before the graves of my parents. The rain mixed with my tears, blurring everything in front of me. The world felt too big, too cold — and for the first time, I realized that no matter how powerful I became, I was still just a child who had been left behind.
I achieved glory at a young age. No one on the continent could achieve my feats, not even those from previous generations. But now, all of it felt empty. I did not feel anything about it. I felt… disgust. Disgusted with myself. How could I? Someone said to be powerful let my father go to war alone, and now I was celebrating my greatness… alone.
"I now have everything. I surpassed my father… but what is the point of this? I would rather have nothing if it meant I could have you both."
Tears wouldn't stop flowing from my eyes, every raindrop a comfort to me.
At this moment, all I realized is I don't want anything, I never even care for my father's throne. It is their praises everytime I do something exceptional and made them happy is what I want.
I stayed on their grave not moving for a week before finally deciding to stand. A servant immediately offered me a robe. My face, once full of life now dulled. My once bright eyes now only killing intent left.
I grabbed my sword and immediately summoned all the generals to prepare for war. My father had already left a will two years ago, stating that I would be the one to inherit his throne. I once muttered, "Liar… you said I should wait until I'm 70!" but now, no tears flowed from my eyes—only a killing intent, eerie enough to make even the experienced generals gathered here shiver.
"How does his majesty has such killing intent when he's only 17?The apple indeed doesn't fall far from the tree." Is what the Generals presents here thought.
I waged war against the empire that killed my father. As I built more experience, I became worse than a killing machine, slaughtering everyone in my path and marking the battlefield with the blood of my enemies. I brought ruin to the kingdom that took my father from me, not sparing even its commoners. My people called me a hero, while my enemies called me a madman—a madman that no empire or kingdom dared to provoke. I was branded by everyone as someone who could not be reasoned with, the worst emperor of all. Even my father, known as the Tyrant Emperor, paled in comparison to me.
Five years later, I found out that my mother's death was not a natural occurrence, but the doing of the previous Empress. Jealous of my mother for having all of my father's attention, she poisoned her after my father's death and blamed it on my mother's grief, since it was the perfect opportunity while I was not present. By that time, all my emotions were already dulled. The pain I had suffered was so great that I could not even feel anger about what the previous Empress did. I did not react much, but once I discovered the truth, I erased the Empress's entire lineage, along with the kingdom she came from and everyone related to her. I then placed her head at the gates of my empire, gaining myself a new nickname.
"Blood Emperor"
And strangely enough, after I died of old age, I woked up into this strange world. I examine myself, an almost skeleton looking child's hand.
"I-Is this the slums?" Before I know, I was in a body of this dying child, laying down on a street.