The world fell into chaos the day the demons appeared. They attacked without warning, destroying cities and killing anyone who resisted. Their objective was not simple slaughter. They wanted control. They wanted humanity under their rule.
Among them were the Twelve Apostles. Unlike ordinary demons, they possessed intelligence
equal to humans and strength far beyond them. They took on human forms and acted as generals in the invasion. Entire countries collapsed under their command. Those who survived were enslaved.
Humanity was pushed to the brink of extinction.
That was when the Six Heroes emerged.
Each of them wielded a different elemental power. Fire, water, wind, earth, light, and
lightning. Their abilities surpassed all known limits, making them the only ones capable of fighting the Apostles directly. Over time, they formed an alliance and began reclaiming lost territory.
Among the six, Rin stood above the rest. He wielded lightning. In terms of speed and destructive power, he was unmatched. On the battlefield, he was always at the front. Because of that, he naturally became their leader.
The war lasted for years.
One by one, the Apostles were hunted down and defeated. Every victory came at a cost, but
humanity slowly began to recover. In the end, only the Demon King remained. The final battle lasted four days. The surrounding land was reduced to ruins. Forests burned. Mountains cracked. The sky remained dark from the clash of magic. The Six Heroes fought together, pushing beyond their limits.
Rin dealt the final blow.
When the Demon King fell, the war finally ended. Rin collapsed soon after. His body had
taken the most damage. Throughout the battle, he had intercepted attacks aimed
at the others. By the end, he could no longer stand. Even breathing felt difficult.
"We finally did it," Rin said quietly, staring up at the ruined sky. He could not
move his arms or legs. His body refused to respond. Still, he felt relieved.
Everything they had fought for was finally over.
"Indeed, we did," Rain replied.
Rain, who wielded water, stepped forward. The others remained behind him, watching in
silence. Water gathered around Rain's sword, flowing along the blade in a steady stream.
"This battle will be remembered for generations," Rain continued. "Humanity will never
forget this day."
Rin let out a faint breath of agreement. Then Rain added, "But I can't say the same for you." Rin frowned slightly. Before he could fully process the words, he felt something sharp pierce through his chest. His eyes widened. He looked down. A sword had run straight through him. Rain was
holding it. For a moment, Rin thought this had to be a mistake. But when he looked up, Rain's
expression was calm.
"Why?" Rin asked. His voice was weak, but steady.
"Why?" Rain repeated. "Because as long as you're alive, none of us will ever stand at the
top."
Rin said nothing.
"You were always stronger," Rain continued. "Faster. More praised. In every battle, it
was your name people remembered first." The others still did not speak.
"With you gone, the credit becomes ours. We become the true saviors of humanity. History
will record us as the heroes who defeated the Demon King." Rin looked past Rain at the remaining four.
None of them objected. "We fought together for years," Rin said quietly. "Was that nothing to you?" One of them turned away. Rain's grip on the sword tightened.
"This is how the world works," he said. "Strength alone isn't enough. Recognition matters.
Legacy matters." Rin's vision began to blur. "And you'll have neither," Rain finished. "You'll die here. No witnesses. No record. No grave."
Rain twisted the blade. Pain spread through Rin's body, but he no longer had the strength to react.
"For what it's worth," Rain added, "you were useful."
With one final motion, Rain pulled the blade sideways. Rin's body fell still on the battlefield he had helped save.
The war was over. And the strongest hero of humanity disappeared without a trace in history.
….
Rin felt cold air enter his lungs. He frowned. Breathing hurt — but not in the way he
remembered. It wasn't the deep, crushing pain from battle. It was lighter. Weaker. He slowly opened his eyes.
A wooden ceiling. Not the ruined battlefield. Not the dark sky after the Demon King
fell. He blinked a few times, trying to focus. His thoughts were clear. Too clear. The last thing he remembered was Rain standing over him.
The sword.
The betrayal.
He was sure he had died. Rin tried to move his arm. It lifted, but barely. His muscles felt thin and fragile. His hand was small. Soft. No scars. No calluses from years of fighting.
This wasn't his body. He pushed himself up slightly, and dizziness hit him right away. His heart beat faster than it should have from such a small movement.
"…What is this?"
As he sat there, memories that weren't his began to surface. A name.
Sylas.
Fourteen years old. Lived in a small town near the capital. Rin closed his eyes and let
the memories come.
This world… was peaceful. After the Demon King's defeat, the Five Heroes had shared their cultivation methods with the world. Magic was no longer something rare or mysterious. It was taught openly. Children learned how to sense mana before they turned ten. Academies
existed in every major city. The Five were treated like legends. Their statues stood in the capital's main square. Their names were written in every history book. Rin's name wasn't mentioned anywhere.
He felt a small tightening in his chest — then it faded. So this was the world they built. Sylas's memories continued. At six years old, during his first attempt to gather mana, something went wrong. His internal pathways — the channels that allowed mana to flow through the body — had been damaged. Ever since then, he had been unable to properly use magic. No matter how hard he
tried, mana would scatter the moment it entered his body. Sometimes it even caused pain.
In a world where almost everyone could use magic, that made him an outcast. The constant
bullying made Sylas kill himself. Rin opened his eyes again.
"So I was reborn… into this?"
He swung his legs off the bed and tried to stand. His knees shook instantly. This body
wasn't just weak. It had never been trained at all. Poor stamina. Low muscle strength. Probably never exercised seriously. Rin steadied himself against the wall until the dizziness passed. Then he focused inward. Even in this body, he could still sense mana in the air. That hadn't changed. Slowly, carefully, he tried to draw a tiny bit into himself.
The reaction was immediate. A dull pain spread through his chest as the mana scattered
before it could circulate. He stopped. The pathways were definitely damaged.
Most people in this situation would give up. Without working pathways, proper cultivation
was impossible. That was common knowledge. Rin leaned back against the wall and exhaled slowly. Common knowledge didn't mean absolute truth. He had trained his body, mind, and soul to their limits in his previous life. He understood mana better than most of the so-called experts teaching in academies right now. The methods the Five had spread were simplified. Safe. Easy to learn.
But not complete. "They didn't share everything," Rin muttered. Fixing broken pathways wouldn't be easy. It would hurt. It would take time. But it wasn't impossible. And even if magic was restricted for now, there were other ways to grow stronger.
Physical training.
Breathing control.
Mental discipline.
Things this peaceful era probably didn't value as much anymore. Outside the window, he heard children laughing. A faint pulse of mana followed — someone practicing a basic spell. It sounded
normal. Casual. Magic had become ordinary. Rin looked down at his thin hands. In his previous life, he had stood at the very front. He protected everyone. He carried the heaviest burden. And in the end, it earned him a blade through the chest. This time would be different. He wasn't angry. Not yet.
But he wasn't naive either.
"If I'm starting over," he said quietly, "then I'll do it properly."
Sylas's body was weak. His pathways were damaged. His reputation was nonexistent. But Rin still had something no one else did. Experience. And memory. He slowly straightened his back, ignoring the trembling in his legs. "This time," he said, "I'll grow stronger for myself."
And he would do it quietly.