Eldoria
In the vast kingdom of Eldoria, the world turned much like any other—sunrise, markets, gossip, taxes, the usual headaches of civilization.
But unlike the world you and I know, Eldoria pulsed with mana.
Ancient forests whispered with the wings of fairies.
Mountains hid sleeping wyverns beneath layers of stone.
Goblins stole crops.
Elves lectured humans about "proper magical etiquette."
And swordsmen boasted they could split boulders in half before breakfast.
Eldoria was a land where swords and sorcery shaped fate…
A world that resembled ours just enough to feel familiar, but diverged wildly the moment magic sparked in the air.
Yet—
In this vibrant, living world…
An anomaly existed.
A single boy whose very existence did not belong to Eldoria.
Appeared like a normal baby born of an A rank swordsman and an S rank mage.
Summoned not by a kingdom…
Not by a hero ritual…
But by the God of Darkness himself.
Reanne Solivar.
He didn't understand why he had been brought here.
He didn't know the god's intentions, nor the price of the summoning.
He didn't know what role he was supposed to play, or what destiny awaited him.
But standing in this new world—alive, breathing, reborn—he knew one thing with absolute clarity:
"If I'm getting a second life… I'm living it my way."
No divine warnings.
No heroic obligations.
No promises.
Just the quiet resolve of a boy who had been reborn in shadows, carrying a power beyond mortal comprehension…
A God-class ability that slept beneath his skin.
Thus began the tale of the world's most dangerous prodigy—
the lazy, cold, manipulative, secretly-kind shadow wielder who intended to live quietly…
…until fate decided otherwise.
The arena of Eldoria Magic Knight Academy buzzed with noise.
A massive circular field, stone platforms marked with glowing runes, and hundreds of students gathered around—Gear 3 on one side, Gear 7 on the other.
Normally, this yearly "motivation duel" was meant to humble the younger kids.
Gear 3 students were ages 7 to 10.
Gear 7 students were 16 to 18—the strongest of the academy's middle ranks.
But today…
Gear 7 was getting destroyed.
Four out of five Gear 3 students had already won, and the crowd was losing its mind.
"ARE YOU SEEING THIS!?"
"HOW IS THIS EVEN POSSIBLE!?"
"Gear 3 is cheating!! They HAVE to be!!"
And now… it was Reanne Solivar's turn.
An eight-year-old boy with messy black-and-white hair walked lazily onto the field, hands in his pockets, eyes half-open like he had just been forced to wake from a nap.
Across from him stood Toppa, the undefeated Ace of Gear 7—broad-shouldered, confident, and surrounded by panicked friends.
"Toppa!! Don't you dare let a CHILD touch you!"
"Beat him fast!! Don't embarrass us!!"
Reanne's friends were the opposite.
Mash was already screaming:
"REANNE!! BREAK HIM!! BREAK HIM FOR FUN!!"
Reiner waved both arms like a puppy:
"Reanne!! Go easy on him! No—actually don't! Show him who's boss!!"
Lily smiled sweetly:
"Do try not to murder anyone today, Reanne. I just washed Mash's uniform."
Reanne ignored all of them.
He sighed, eyes dull.
Reanne's Monologue
"This is pointless."
"If they really wanted to show us future strength, they should've brought S-rank knights… not these kids."
"Well… I guess I can test my new abilities on him."
He lifted his chin lazily as Mr. Lorkwell, the instructor, raised a hand.
"Match—BEGIN!!"
To Reanne, the match ended before the word even finished leaving the teacher's mouth.
A shiver ran across the arena floor.
Toppa froze.
"What… what is that…!?"
From beneath Toppa's feet, his own shadow twisted.
Then—
SHRRRAAAAKKKKKK—
Black, claw-shaped hands erupted upward, grabbing his ankles and legs locking him in place.
"WHAT SORT OF SORCERY IS THIS!?"
Toppa shrieked, struggling violently.
"GET THEM OFF ME!! LET GO OF ME!! SOMEONE—!!"
Reanne hadn't moved a single muscle.
He simply watched.
Cold. Uninterested. Almost bored.
"These are the damned souls from yesterday…" he thought calmly.
"Those dark wolves I killed in the forest. With their class upgraded this is a good time to test them."
The air behind him rippled—
and two massive shadow wolves rose from the ground, bodies made of swirling black mist, eyes hollow and glowing faintly.
The entire arena screamed.
"SHADOW SUMMONS!?"
"WHAT KIND OF MONSTER IS THAT KID!?"
"THAT'S NOT NORMAL SHADOW MAGIC!!"
Reanne didn't even blink.
"Kill." he said.
The wolves blurred.
FWOOOOOOOSH—
They shot forward faster than when they were alive, a black streak ripping the air apart as they lunged straight for Toppa's throat.
"TEACHER!!! THEY'RE GOING TO KILL HIM!!"
Even Mr. Lorkwell didn't move fast enough.
Toppa's scream cracked:
"NO—NO NO NO NO!!!!"
The wolves' fangs opened wide—
One centimeter from severing his head—
They suddenly burst into smoke, dissolving into the air like nightmares fading at dawn.
The arena fell dead silent.
Toppa collapsed, shaking violently, urine dripping down his legs.
The smell reached the front rows.
Someone whispered:
"…he pissed himself…"
Reanne exhaled lazily.
"Ah… guess that's enough testing."
He turned away, bored once more.
The entire arena just stared.
Eight years old.
And this was him holding back.