Hey hello,
My name is Leonid Grayson
A junior student at one of the highest-ranking colleges in the country.
Rank 3 in all exams, a creative mind everyone praised, and—if I'm honest—a pretty happy guy.
My family's rich, I've got an older sister who bosses me around, and a little brother who looks up to me. Life was good.
Or so I thought.
That day started like any other. After classes, I visited a public library I'd recently discovered. While browsing, a strange book caught my eye.
The cover was striking—**two hands clasping a flame**—and on the back, a pair of hands forming a wicked smile . The colors were deep green and black , giving it a mysterious, almost sinister feel.
I don't know why, but I couldn't take my eyes off it.
"Interested?" the librarian asked.
"Yeah… can I buy this?"
He chuckled. "No need. Take it. I found it in an old abandoned house I bought recently. The previous owner left it behind."
Free? Even better.
I thanked him, tucked the book under my arm, and said goodbye. Then I hopped into my Lamborghini and headed to my favorite café. I couldn't wait to read it.
But I never made it there.
As I crossed the highway, a blinding light. A deafening crash. Impact.
And then—nothing.
When I opened my eyes, I was in endless darkness. No light. No ground. No sound.
"...Where am I? Is this a dream?" My voice trembled. My chest felt tight, my heartbeat frantic.
Then, a voice.
"Heh… so my new owner is afraid of the dark."
My blood froze. The voice wasn't human.
Out of the void, the **book** floated toward me, its cover twisting into a **grinning face.**
"You… you're the book I bought!" I shouted, panicking. "How are you talking?! What is this?! Someone help me! Is this some kind of prank?!"
The book only laughed, a low, mocking sound that echoed through the void.
"Prank? No, little mortal. You're mine now."
( here is a conversation in mc subconscious space with the book)
"Leonid Grayson."
My own name echoed in the void. My voice sounded small—weak—even to myself.
"What… what do your words mean? Why am I in this dark, empty place?!"
The book floated lazily before me, its grinning cover glowing faintly in the void. Its voice was deep, almost playful.
"I can answer your questions…" it said, "but first, I desire something from you."
My eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?"
"Make me laugh. Show me that your mind is worth entertaining."
…What?
I stared at the book in disbelief. "Did… this talking book just ask me to make it laugh? Is it dumb? Or just bored?" I muttered under my breath.
Still, I couldn't help myself. "Fine then. How about this—you've been stuck for 1,500 years and the first thing you want from me is a joke? Sounds like you're the one who's been in the dark too long."
There was a moment of silence. Then—
"Pffft—HAHAHAHA!"
The book's laughter boomed through the void, shaking the darkness itself.
"Wonderful! After 1,500 years, I've finally spoken with a real human instead of simply watching the world change around me," it said, its tone softening. "It's sad, yet… I'm happy to be free."
My head was spinning. "...Okay, I don't know what's going on, but… how did I make you laugh? And more importantly—can you answer my questions now? Why am I here? What is this place?"
The book's smile grew sharper.
"Very well, Leonid. You've earned my answers."
I am Omnigrim, the Book of Limitless Arcana," the voice declared, echoing across the void.
Its cover glowed faintly, the flaming hands on it now burning like real fire.
"I hold the power to learn and wield all variations of magic. I am not just a book… I am living wisdom."
My jaw dropped. "Wait… so you're saying… if I own you, I can learn every type of magic in existence?"
"Correct."
A grin tugged at my lips. "Wonderful."
But the book's tone suddenly grew heavy.
"Dear owner, understand this you have already died. To protect you, I shall grant you a new chance. You will be reincarnated… into a random world. Survive, Leonid Grayson. That is all I require."
Before I could respond, a **massive golden gate** appeared before me, blazing with symbols I couldn't understand. The air pulsed with power.
"The Gate of Life," Omnigrim whispered. "Your passage to rebirth."
My heart pounded. *Reincarnation… huh?*
A stupid grin spread across my face. "So this is it. I'm gonna be a hero, right? Probably in some party of chosen ones? Save the world from a Demon King? Build a harem? Hah! Let's gooo!"
That… was what I thought.
——
Present timeline.
I opened my eyes to smoke. To ash. To a crimson sky torn apart by cracks in reality.
My stomach dropped. This wasn't a fantasy kingdom.
"This… this is a nightmare," I muttered.
All around me were ruined cities, the remains of skyscrapers devoured by glowing rifts. Beasts with alien shapes roamed in the distance, their screeches echoing across the wasteland.
"This world…" Omnigrim's voice echoed in my head.
" An apocalypse. Hunters and magicians fight endlessly to protect the last remaining continents from otherworldly monsters crawling out of space cracks."
My fingers trembled. "...So… no castle? No hero party? No… harem?"
"Survive first," Omnigrim replied coldly. "Dream later."
(Here's a monologue of Lenoid)
At first, I thought I could save this world.
When I woke up in that apocalyptic land, I believed I'd be the hero who would change everything.
Omnigrim gave me more than magic—he gave me a body . A new life. My home became a gothic castle hidden in the ruins, a dark sanctuary for my rebirth. I even tamed a Wind Leopard as my companion, a beast swift enough to outrun death itself.
But this world… was not one a hero could save.
The rich and strong ruled with iron fists, living in luxury while the weak starved. Some commoners weren't just poor—they were food for the monsters spilling out of the cracks in reality.
Magic dictated everything here.
The higher your rank, the longer you lived.
Even swordsmen—once legends—were nearly extinct. After the fall of the Demon King, the Holy Sword rusted, its divine power drained. Kingdoms crumbled. Cults rose like weeds , preaching salvation through blood and despair.
It was a world drowning in darkness.
And I… was afraid.
I locked myself away in that castle, isolating myself from a reality too cruel to face.
But then… I met people. People who reminded me that even in this broken world, life still had value.
That was the start of my journey—not as a hero, but as someone searching for a reason to live.
I made friends. One of them became my best friend —a man who fought by my side through fire and blood as we traveled the world, faced horrors, and climbed toward power.
But in the end… he died.
And I survived.
I kept climbing.
I reached Rank 4 in the Magic Pillars, strong enough to threaten the Magic Council and the cults that lurked in the shadows.
I even found love. Built a family.
Lived for 800 years.
And then—
I was betrayed by my own great-grandson.*
…What a fate.
(These the present scene shown with dialogue)
In his mind, Kael Virethorn spoke:
"In this world… my name is Kael Virethorn. Last descendent of the Virethorn family. Once rulers of this Gothic castle… now reduced to a name whispered in fear. Murdered—not fallen—by the damned cult…'The Children of the Crimson Eclipse.'"
Kael laughed, floating effortlessly in the air as three figures approached—a trio of powerhouses.
Ronethia Valemire, the Obsidian Enchantress, floated at the front, her pink hair shimmering like silk in the wind, eyes sharp and unreadable.
Viktor Zaitsev, a rank 7 mage, stood tall beside her, his aura calm but heavy.
Darius Wolfden, a grizzled Rank 3 battle-mage, gripped his staff, glaring at Kael like a predator sizing up prey.
"You old man still look young," Ronethia smirked, her voice mocking yet melodic. "What's your secret, Kael? Bathing in blood?"
Kael chuckled. "A pleasure to see the Valemire princess herself."
Viktor stepped forward, bowing slightly. "Kael Virethorn… you are someone I deeply admire. But please, back off. Submit to the Magic Council. You'll be treated as you deserve—a Rank 4 Archmage with fame, wealth, and all the women you desire."
Kael tilted his head. "Oh? Can you give me the Crimson Moon Fragment? Or perhaps one of the ancestral dragons your Council keeps caged in their palace?"
Darius barked, slamming his staff into the ground. "Enough! Magicians are meant to stabilize this world—not make outrageous demands! You… the Omnimancer, the Fourth Pillar, the Forbidden Sage—you shame your name. If you want something, give us your research and knowledge."
Kael threw his head back and laughed, his voice booming. "Me? Give MY techniques to that den of political worms you call a Council? NEVER."
Suddenly—
Shhhk!
A blade tore into Kael's stomach from behind.
"Uncle… you're finished."
Kael looked down, blood dripping from his mouth. He turned his head, seeing a familiar young face—his own great-grandson.
"My friend… would regret seeing you kill me, boy," Kael hissed.
"Save your breath, old man," the boy sneered.
Kael grinned through the pain. "Gravity Well—"
The ground around him warped as an invisible force surged outward, hurling the boy into the sky like a ragdoll.
"Virethorn…!" Ronethia roared, unleashing a cascade of black chains at him.
Kael vanished in a blink—switching places with a novice mage far below using space magic.
Landing amidst a crowd of terrified apprentices, Kael spread his arms wide. "Wonderful… so many souls to collect."
"You BEAST!" Darius shouted from above, launching a searing spear of light. "Don't you have a HEART?!"
On the ground, young magicians stared at the sky in awe and terror.
"It feels like gods are battling…"
"Is that… Kael Virethorn? The Omnimancer? The Black Sun of Aeloria?!"
"And he's fighting… Princess Ronethia Valemire?!"
Ronethia glided closer, her aura flaring. Highest defense in the Seven Houses. Her ornate robes glimmered with warding sigils, her pink hair a radiant banner in the darkened sky.
Then—a tear in reality.
A Rank 8 mage appeared, landing beside Ronethia. Her husband.
"Step back, love," he growled. "I'll end this."
Kael tilted his head. "Oh? And who might you be?"
"Lord Adrast Valemire."
Ronethia turned to him, smiling softly—relief in her eyes.
Then—
Shhhhk!
The same blade plunged through her chest.
"…A-Adrast…?" Ronethia's eyes widened, tears spilling as she stared at her husband—no, at Kael's great-grandson in disguise.
"Goodbye, my dear," the boy whispered.
Her body fell, her once flawless form crushed against the rubble below like discarded meat.
Gasps filled the air.
"He killed the Obsidian Enchantress!"
"That boy… is Kael's bloodline?!"
Viktor and Darius froze, hesitating to act.
Kael stared at his great-grandson. "So… it was you."
The boy smirked. "Grandpa, you're too old. Your era is over. This world belongs to me now. I want my success—not yours."
A brilliant sphere of light materialized in the boy's hand, humming with divine energy.
Kael's eyes narrowed. "The Soul Reliquary. My creation. So… you would use my own invention against me.**"
"Goodbye, old man."
Kael paused. Then—laughed. Madly.
"HAHAHAHA! Betrayed by my own blood, killed by my own work… How poetic!"
"Stop him before he does something unthinkable!" Darius yelled.
But it was too late.
A book appeared at Kael's side, its dark pages fluttering.
"Owner," Omnigrim whispered. "Shall I erase them all?"
Kael's grin widened. "Do it."
The sky split.
Chaos Magic erupted. Space itself shattered as blackened cracks devoured everything. Screams echoed. The world trembled.
And in that apocalyptic storm… Kael Virethorn, the Black Sun of Aeloria, died.