Chapter 4 – Jack Ashenblood
His name was Jack Ashenblood, a descendant of the great Ashenblood family. A family that carried the lingering will of ancient deities—mighty beings who had long since perished but whose echoes still shaped the world to that very day.
The Ashenbloods were no ordinary lineage. Their blood burned with power beyond mortal comprehension, a divine inheritance that granted them influence, wealth, and political strength unrivaled in all of 'Reveil'. In a world that shifted and changed endlessly, they were the constant, the immovable pillar.
Yet amid this towering legacy stood Jack—the fifth son of the clan head, born not from the honored wife of the family but from a fleeting night with a maid. His existence was a scandal. His father had four legitimate children with his wife, and when word spread that he had sired a child with another woman, chaos rippled through the household like wildfire.
The Ashenbloods scrambled to bury the truth. For a family so revered, so scrutinized by the eyes of nobles and commoners alike, shame was a poison they could not afford. But secrets never stayed hidden forever. The media would learn of the new child eventually, and the family had to make a choice.
They could claim the boy as their own… or erase him.
"Exile him," Jack muttered bitterly as he dressed. "And that's exactly what they did."
The boy had been cast out, sent far away with no inheritance, no recognition, nothing. The family assigned Lidia, one of the many young maids in the household, to leave and take care of him... Or that was at least what she told him.
The blonde woman who had just shared his bed—the one whose breathing still lingered faintly in the air—was also the woman who had carried him through his darkest years.
'I didn't realize she wasn't much older than him,' Jack thought, his brow furrowing. 'Strange relationship they have…'
He sifted through the memories, piecing together the broken fragments of Jack Ashenblood's life. It was the life of a child unwanted by his own blood, cursed with the knowledge that his family despised his existence. The rejection festered into hatred, carving itself into his soul so deeply that even now, as someone else within his skin, Jack could still feel its weight.
They hadn't given him a coin to survive. Lidia had been forced to work endlessly to keep them alive. And despite her efforts, there were nights when they had nothing—nights when they lay huddled in the cold, stomachs empty, sickness clinging to her frail body. A boy, clutching the only person who cared for him, watching her cough and tremble while the world ignored them.
That was the soil in which his hatred grew—towards his family, towards society, towards everything. He found himself faced with every cruelty known to man. Betrayals, hatred, scrutiny, and even people who found pleasure in trying to bully the weak and use them.
He had seen it all.
"Hmm. Poor kid," Jack muttered softly. "No wonder he became who he was."
Yet even in that grim upbringing, the boy refused to break. He went to school, clinging to the belief that success was the only weapon he had against this cruel world. He studied relentlessly, working any job he could find to support Lidia.
And there, Jack shone brightest. His mind was sharp, quick, and unyielding. He excelled at everything—studies, work, anything he put his hand to. Teachers admired him, employers valued him. He became the best, even at a young age. He didn't leave an opportunity that he didn't try to make things work. It didn't matter what he had to do; he simply did it.
Opportunities came few and far between, but when they did, he seized them. And slowly, the tides began to turn. He delved into the endless sea of the internet, finding ways to build something of his own. With a keen business sense and an eye for opportunity, he created an online marketplace.
The results were explosive. His intelligence fueled its growth until wealth poured in, almost overnight. For the first time in his life, Jack could provide not just for himself but for Lidia as well.
They moved to a better city, bought a luxurious penthouse high above the streets, and began living the life they had once only dreamed of.
"Quite a life," Jack murmured as he stepped before the tall mirror, his reflection coming into view. "And quite the looks."
The man staring back was breathtaking. Handsome beyond reason, with sharp features that would shame actors and supermodels alike. Tall, lean but very mascular, his presence carried an effortless dominance. His eyes, however, drew the most attention: one golden, gleaming like molten sunlight; the other a deep, oceanic blue.
A walking contradiction—beauty hiding something far darker.
"Interesting," Jack scoffed, brushing strands of glossy black hair from his face. "These looks do a good job masking what lies behind the eyes, don't they?"
From the outside, the story looked almost wholesome. A child, cast into hardship, had clawed his way out with sheer will and intelligence, building a better life for himself and the one person who stood by him.
But the truth was far from pure.
Jack Ashenblood wasn't the noble, selfless survivor others might imagine. His sharp mind came with arrogance. He believed himself superior—in intellect, in looks, in every possible measure. To him, people were tools. He manipulated, lied, and twisted others to his will with ease. To reach what he wanted, he didn't care for their well-being or their fate. The only person he cared about was Lidia, and no one else.
Worse still, he had been cruel. As a boy, he bullied weaker children, stole lunches, tricked others into doing his bidding. To him, morality was meaningless. The world had been cruel to him—so why shouldn't he return the favor?
People didn't show him kindness when he needed it most. So why should he show kindness? It didn't seem fair to Jack. Morals to him were just something fools use to set standards they believe are right. But those same standards hurt as many people as they benefit others.
Jack's gaze hardened against the glass. "Except there's one problem with that…"
He pressed his palm to the mirror.
"He bullied someone he never should have touched."
Not because the boy was stronger or wealthier. No—this boy was weak, poor, insignificant in every worldly measure. But he possessed one thing, one absurd, impossible power.
The power of being the main character.
Jack let out a hollow laugh. "I can't believe it. I've been reincarnated into the world of a book I once read… How ridiculous."
The realization still gnawed at him. He was no longer himself—he was inside the world of Heroes and Ashes, a fantasy novel he had picked up long ago. And worse, he wasn't even the protagonist. He was one of the villains.
The boy he had tormented endlessly, the one who had suffered beneath his cruelty, was none other than Arthur Starborn—the hero of the story.
Jack's stomach twisted as the weight of it sank in. He wasn't just a villain—he was a minor one, destined to die early, barely even a stepping stone in the hero's rise.
"If I remember correctly," he whispered, "this villain doesn't even survive long enough to be relevant. He dies pathetically, discarded before the true story even begins."
And worse still, he had awoken at a time when nothing could be undone. The body he now inhabited was already eighteen years old. His fate was sealed.
"The story hasn't even started yet," he muttered grimly.
The world of Reveil stretched before him—vast, dangerous, and brimming with magic. Mana pulsed through the very air, flowing like blood through the veins of creation. A fantasy world of incomprehensible scale, filled with kingdoms, monsters, and gods.
"Mana, magic… what a nightmare." Jack ran a hand down his face. The book had been sprawling, intricate, layered with countless plots and subplots. To remember every detail was nearly impossible, even for someone like him.
But there was one thing he knew with certainty.
"The situation isn't completely hopeless," he breathed, trying to steady himself. "The first major event doesn't happen until after the children turn eighteen. That event…"
He swallowed.
"…'The First Step.'"
"Young master! Are you still getting ready?"
Lidia's voice rang from outside the door, pulling him from his spiraling thoughts. He looked up, blinking before he clenched his fists.
"I don't know who sent me or why they sent me here. But... Something doesn't feel right at all. Why this book of all books? And why this character of all characters?"
He couldn't tell. Perhaps it was some kind of deity playing tricks on him, or even a reincarnation roulette that chose him and threw him here. He had no idea and he probably wasn't going to know that by standing still.
Jack blinked, then shook his head quickly, forcing clarity back into his mind. He slipped into the rest of his clothes, straightened his collar, and turned from the mirror.
Time was moving forward whether he was ready or not.
And so, Jack Ashenblood stepped out.