Zain was still feeling quite emotional as he bid farewell to Mr. Oberoy for the last time.
But before he could process his emotions fully, the room around him suddenly began to shake violently. The tremors grew stronger with each passing second, making it difficult for him to stand still. The intensity of the shaking soon reached a point where it felt like he was experiencing a high-magnitude earthquake.
His spirit body was tossed around like a ragdoll, bouncing off the ceiling, floor, and walls. He kept colliding with every surface, ricocheting uncontrollably, as if he were trapped inside a pinball machine. Being in his spirit form, he didn't feel any pain, but the endless motion made him incredibly uncomfortable. It was as if he had been turned into a rubber ball, endlessly rebounding through the confined space.
He had no idea how much time had passed, but the chaotic experience only fueled his frustration. Just as his irritation reached its peak, the mysterious light he had seen before appeared again. His consciousness flickered, his vision darkened, and then—nothing.
When Zain next opened his eyes, he found himself floating in a completely different place.
He was standing in a vast, desolate field. A heavy darkness blanketed the land, devoid of any signs of life. As his gaze swept across the terrain, he saw corpses scattered everywhere. Some belonged to humans, but others were creatures he had never seen before.
His eyes landed on a massive, bat-like creature lying lifeless on the ground. Its severed head rested a meter away from its decapitated body, and the dried blood surrounding it suggested it had been dead for a long time.
Before he could fully analyze his surroundings, an unseen force suddenly pulled his spirit body forward at breakneck speed. He shot across the battlefield like an arrow, his body moving against his will. The scenery blurred as he passed countless remains—human corpses and strange beasts alike.
He saw grotesque creatures among the dead: monstrous black wolves, giant red rats with spikes protruding from their backs, and countless other unknown horrors. Blood soaked the darkened earth, filling the air with the putrid stench of death and decay.
After traveling several kilometers across the battlefield, his body finally began to slow. That was when he saw it.
A headless corpse lay lifeless on the ground, its once-powerful presence reduced to nothing but cold, unmoving flesh. The metal armor it wore was stained with dried blood, evidence of a brutal end.
Zain's heart skipped a beat. He recognized the body immediately. It belonged to the orphaned boy.
Before he could react, his spirit shot directly into the lifeless body. The moment his soul entered, the mysterious disc that had been pulling him along finally released him, emitting a dazzling light that illuminated the dark battlefield.
Then, everything went black again.
If anyone had been watching, they would have witnessed a sight beyond human comprehension.
The headless corpse began to heal itself.
A white skull formed at the base of the severed neck, attaching itself to the exposed vertebrae. Then, a brain materialized inside the skull, followed by muscle tissue, eyes, ears, nose, and finally, skin. The once-detached head was restored, now bearing a youthful face filled with vitality.
As the lifeless body continued to radiate an eerie, warm glow, all of its injuries started to mend. Dried blood turned liquid again, veins filled with fresh life, and a heartbeat—once lost—resumed its rhythm.
The chest rose and fell.
And then, a pair of dark, cold, purple eyes flickered open.
All of this happened within a single minute.
A miracle beyond mortal understanding.
A man, once dead, had returned to life.
Zain, still unaware of the astonishing events that had just transpired, slowly regained consciousness.
His eyes fluttered open, and the first thing he saw was a sky devoid of stars or a moon. Thick, swirling clouds loomed above, blocking out any possible light.
He felt something cold and wet beneath him. When he turned his head slightly, he was horrified to find himself lying in a pool of blood.
His own? No.
The realization hit him like a bolt of lightning—he was no longer in his original body.
Lifting his hand, he touched his face, feeling smooth skin. His fingers traced over youthful, unblemished cheeks, free from the wrinkles he had grown used to.
His gaze shifted downward. He was wearing the same armor he had seen on the headless corpse.
So, I've finally reincarnated.
A seventeen-year-old boy... in a completely different world.
Before he could fully grasp the situation, a sudden gust of wind swept through the battlefield, carrying the overwhelming stench of blood, rotting flesh, and iron.
The smell was suffocating. He instinctively pinched his nose shut, but within seconds, his lungs burned for air. When he finally took a breath, he gagged.
"Disgusting," he muttered, coughing and cursing under his breath.
Blood covered his armor, bringing back memories of the darkest days of his past—the days when he had fought in war.
But this battlefield was even more brutal.
Looking around, he saw lifeless bodies sprawled across the blackened ground, their flesh torn apart as scavengers feasted upon them.
His stomach twisted violently. His new body was far weaker than his old one, unable to handle such gruesome sights without nausea.
He turned his head toward the source of the blood pooling beside him. A large, bat-like creature lay dead, fresh wounds still oozing crimson. It hadn't been killed too long ago.
Then, for the first time, he truly noticed his reflection in the blood.
A face completely different from his own.
Sharp silver hair. Glowing purple eyes. Pale skin. A long, straight nose.
The face of someone who looked almost... princely.
But the disappointment in his expression was undeniable.
He clenched his fists, feeling how frail his new body was. This is pathetic.
His former self had been strong, built like a warrior. But now? He was barely 5 feet 9 inches tall and weighed a mere 48 kilograms.
Are you joking?
His mind raced with questions. Who had thrown him into this war? Who had allowed someone in such a weak condition to fight? Was life in this world so cheap?
But as he sat there, unknowingly lamenting his weakness, he was unaware of the real reason for his body's state.
The mysterious disc that had reincarnated him had used the minerals and proteins from his lower body to reconstruct his skull and brain. The process had drained his physical strength, leaving his body in this weakened condition.
He had no time to dwell on it.
"I have to leave this place," he muttered, trying to gather his thoughts.
But how?
He knew nothing about this world. No guidance, no information.
Nothing.
And before he could decide on his next move, a sound reached his ears.
A low, human-like whimper.
Followed by the crunching of bones.
His body stiffened as he turned toward the noise.
There, in the distance, a dark, humanoid creature stood hunched over, feasting on the remains of the battlefield.
Its decayed, blackened skin stretched tightly over its skeletal frame, and its hollow eyes gleamed with malice.
Then, it turned toward him.
A wide, unnatural grin spread across its face, revealing rows of sharp, bloodstained teeth.
Zain's blood ran cold.
The thing was still chewing. The sound of cracking bones echoed through the silence.
His mind screamed at him to run.
But his body—his weak, fragile new body—refused to obey.
And the creature began crawling toward him.