As Angus moved through the wreckage, searching for life, he found few survivors.
And with the last shreds of his authority, he imposed order on the chaos.
Though deaf, he used pen and paper to communicate. It slowed everything—but his orders still carried weight.
First, he summoned his loyal troops from outside the city to restore order. Then, messengers were sent to nearby cities, requesting food, officials, and supplies.
Oremaw had been flattened in a single night.
Angus chose to remain in the military camp, managing the disaster's aftermath from the ground.
Under his command, help began pouring in. Resources. Builders. Doctors. People.
....
A month passed.
And slowly, the ruins of Oremaw began to stir with life again.
Angus didn't turn his attention to the Magicians until the city began to recover.
He issued a kingdom-wide command: Investigate the two who appeared that night.
Track their origin, their destination—anything they said, anything they touched.
But after months, the only clue was that they'd come from Gristlewick, far to the east.
And... nothing else.
And worst of all—neither had died.
Angus stood silently in the new Sunstone Manor, rebuilt over the ashes of the old.
'I should've known better.'
'I was hoping they'd kill each other... How foolish.'
He looked up at the empty sky. There was nothing left for him in this life. So, without hesitation, he activated Blur.
"Would you like to freeze this reality and return to the anchor point?"
"Yes."
The light curtain shimmered, then froze.
...
Fifty years of power, of glory, of pain—shattered like glass. The fragments burned into Angus's soul like falling stars.
Images spun faster and faster, rewinding time, until they paused again—two Magicians, suspended in the sky above Sunstone Manor.
"Hogar Rhoen. Yanek T'soan," Angus whispered their names like a vow.
"Fifty years from now, I'll be waiting for you… right here." The world faded. His thoughts sharpened.
'Wealth. Titles. They're meaningless now.'
'In the next life, I have only one goal.'
'To capture... a Magician.'
As his spirit dimmed, Angus drifted into sleep. But his will burned brighter than ever.
...
"Existence Reset."
You may choose one of the following:
1. An item you previously possessed.
2. Your Arcane Tier.
3. Transfer the memory to someone close.
4. Discard all choices to accelerate energy restoration.
Angus opened his eyes. The dim light of his modest study greeted him.
Bookshelves, ink stains, the scent of old parchment—it was all familiar, yet distant, like a dream just shaken off.
Memories surged—fifty years of ambition, rise, ruin.
'Was it real? Or just an illusion? It felt so vivid.'
'Or maybe... once you reach a certain point, there's no difference between real and false anymore.'
Still, Angus wasn't one to dwell. He drew a breath, calm and cold, and turned to the choices.
The first two—useless. He'd never stepped onto the Arcane Path in that life.
His only prized possession was the King's Authority Seal, and now that he understood what true power looked like, that trinket meant nothing.
The third option was dangerous.
'Give someone decades of memories? Who knows how they'd change?'
He couldn't take that risk.
That left only the last option—energy acceleration.
'"Blur" still needed time to recharge. Right now, I am just a powerless scholar—nothing more. Rushing forward would only be reckless.'
He knew from experience—energy was restored slowly, and it would take years before it was restored completely.
But when the progress of energy restoration reaches 200 percent, it will stop.
And in times of crisis, the necklace would use that energy to shield him, keeping death at bay.
'It's a life saver.'
His choice was made.
Without hesitation, Angus made the choice.
'4.'
The glowing words dissolved into points of light, reforming into new rows before him:
Name: Angus.
Tier: Mortal.
Physical Age: 20 out of 85.
Cognitive Age: 160 out of 1050.
Energy Restoration Progress: 20 percent.
'Three lifetimes, one hundred and sixty years…'
Angus let the number settle.
His cognitive limit had risen—from just over eight hundred in his last life to more than a thousand now.
Just like the body wears down, so does the mind.
Too many memories—too much pain—and eventually, the soul buckles.
'That's the true erosion of time.'
'But with every cycle, experience forges resilience.'
'Limits grow. The mind stretches.'
And Angus… was stretching further than ever.
'As long as I step onto the Arcane Path, nothing else matters.'
'No more chasing gold, silk, or fleeting beauty.'
'What I want is simple—'
'—I want to live.'
The ache of watching loved ones die, the creeping fear as his body withered—those memories still burned.
'This time, it will be different.'
'In fifty years, those two magicians will return to Oremaw.'
'If I prepare well enough, maybe.....'
He remembered the "Terrene Mist" they mentioned.
'That could be a clue.'
'And they came from the Forsaken Abyss in the East... I should send someone to investigate it.'
'Waiting for fifty years isn't enough.'
'I need to act now.'
'In my previous life, I had everything—titles, soldiers, the Emperor's ear, the court in the palm of my hand.'
'Even the queen bowed to my will.'
'There was nowhere higher to climb.'
'After all, I had reached the summit of this mundane world.'
'But what did it amount to?'
'Do I really want to repeat the same life again and again? The same thrones, the same pleasures?'
'Even power, when recycled too often, becomes dull.'
'Without change, without purpose, eventually I'd have… stopped.'
'But now—'
'Now, I have a reason.'
'The Magicians have opened a door I never knew existed.'
'A world beyond imagination.'
Angus felt his ambition ignite.
'This time, I'll.....'
'I'll become a magician.'
...
Time flew.
Angus executed his plan flawlessly—each move unfolding with the ease of a blade sliding into flesh.
With two lifetimes of knowledge, he crushed the Imperial Exams—Provincial, Metropolitan, Palace—all of them. His name echoed throughout the empire.
Then he volunteered for a remote post. Many in court frowned, confused by his choice, but he bowed and smiled.
Then he took full control.
In his district, control came easily. He knew every officer's nature, every weakness.
Old allies returned. Workshops rose in the mountains.
Flintlocks, forged iron, covert opium routes—wealth piled like mountain stone.
And in the shadows, he was training… the king's double.
Half a year later, chaos erupted—refugees stormed the King's Mansion.
Angus "rescued" the King—only to kill him and the royal family, then quietly replace him with the trained double.
The court reeled with shock.
Unaware of the truth, the Emperor praised him and made him... the Minister.
Power thickened around him.
And then came... King Henrik's wedding.
That night, Angus stormed the bridal chamber.
The new queen turned pale.
"You—what have you done?!"
"Your husband's been dead for years," he said, unmoved.
She screamed, struggling beneath him, but Angus showed no mercy.
"I'm the real king now," he whispered, unbothered by her hatred.
Afterward, he forced her to write the truth—then delivered the letter himself to her grandfather, the Chief Scholar.
"I own the King's Mansion," he declared.
"And I've taken your granddaughter as my wife."
The old man trembled but didn't lash out.
Instead, he asked quietly, "What do you want?"
"Loyalty," Angus pronounced and left.
A year later, the queen bore a son—his son.
Fifteen years after that, when the Emperor fell ill, Angus pulled the strings.
And... the puppet king took the throne.
After all, control is easiest when no one notices the strings.
A few years later, he quietly killed the puppet and made his son the Emperor.
And then, Angus stepped into the light—as the Imperial Teacher.