In his previous life, he was the youngest son of a noble family of master swordsmen. For generations, his bloodline had perfected the art of combat, and in the world he came from, strength meant everything. The weak were trampled. The strong ruled.
Every evening, after the quiet, solemn dinner, he would head to the training grounds behind their estate, just as he always did. His eyes were filled with unwavering determination. He reached for his sword, ready to begin his nightly training.
But that night... was different.
The moment his fingers touched the hilt, a strange tingling crept up from his fingertips. His vision began to blur. His legs gave out beneath him. His breath grew shallow.
Poison.
There was poison on the hilt of his sword.
Before he could understand what was happening, his body collapsed to the ground. As darkness consumed his vision, a single thought echoed in his mind:"Why? Who?"
Then... only silence.
Until a sound broke through.
A woman crying.
When he opened his eyes again, he was surrounded by people. On his right, a woman sobbing uncontrollably. On his left, a man with a peaceful smile gazing down at him.
He wanted to speak — but no words came.He tried to move — but his body would not obey.
He was a newborn baby.
As time passed, the truth became clear. He had died.And now, he had been born again… in this world.
But this place was unlike the one he once knew.
The sky was different. The stars unfamiliar. In people's eyes, a strange glow shimmered. On their lips, words he couldn't understand. He looked around in confusion — and saw flames bursting from people's hands.
In this world, it wasn't the sword that ruled…
It was magic.
And for a warrior who had once lived and died by the blade,this new beginning was more terrifying than death itself.