Kai Draven's eyes snapped open.
The world was too sharp, too vivid, too real. His lungs burned as he gasped for air, hands clawing at silk sheets that felt impossibly soft beneath his fingers. The room smelled of sandalwood and faint cultivation herbs—a scent both familiar and alien. His heart hammered against his ribcage, but there was no pain. No weakness. No drained cultivation core.
Just the overwhelming clarity of being alive.
He sat up slowly, head spinning as his golden eyes darted across the room. Carved wooden beams. Cultivation tapestries shimmering with spiritual energy. A full-length mirror reflecting a face that was his—but younger. Too young. Twenty at most. The face of Kai Draven before everything went catastrophically wrong.
"Where... am I?"
The last thing he remembered was dying. The cold marble floor of Heavenly Sword Academy's grand hall. Elara's perfect tears as she whispered lies to Lian. The suffocating sensation of his cultivation base being drained dry after years of blind devotion. Liora's final, betrayed glance as the executioner's sword rose.
He had died as a fool. Elara's fool.
But now...
Kai swung his legs off the bed and stood. The floor was cool jade tile beneath his feet. He crossed to the mirror, each step confirming what his senses screamed: this body was strong. Untouched. Peak Foundation Realm—Level 35 or thereabouts. Not the broken husk he had become in his final days.
He stared at his reflection. Long black hair. Sharp features. Golden eyes. The Draven Clan heir at his prime.
This is the Draven Clan estate.
The realization hit like cold water. He knew this room. Knew this mirror. Knew the wardrobe filled with black silk robes embroidered with silver Draven Clan sigils.
"How...?"
***
THE MEMORY FLOOD
Then the memories came—not his memories, or rather, memories from a life before this life. Memories of reading a novel. Saint of the Heavenly Sword. A cultivation story about a righteous protagonist named Lian, his innocent heroine Elara, and their tragic conflict with villain Kai Draven and villainess Liora von Avalon.
Kai gripped the mirror's edge, knuckles white. The novel's plot merged with his lived experience in perfect, horrifying clarity. He remembered reading about Kai Draven's infatuation with Elara. Remembered the chapters detailing how Kai became her devoted follower, her "licking dog," draining his own cultivation resources to fuel her schemes. Remembered Liora's unwavering loyalty despite the betrayal. Remembered the execution scene where Lian's holy sword fell while Elara wept crocodile tears.
He remembered finishing the novel and thinking the villain subplot was tragically unnecessary. Pointless tragedy for the sake of tragedy.
Now he was the villain subplot.
Transmigration. Second chance. The universe's cruelest joke.
SYSTEM AWAKENING
Before panic could take hold, reality shifted.
[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION]
Glowing blue text appeared in his vision, floating independently of the physical world:
[WHITEWASH SYSTEM ACTIVATED]
[BINDING TO: KAI DRAVEN]
[AGE: 70 YEARS]
[OBJECTIVE DETECTED: REWRITE DESTINY]
"age 70 ??"
"System ??"
[YES HOST]
"What is currently year"
[Current Year: 2080]
"But my current year is 2030 and I am 20 years old, It seems system came 50 years early"
[INITIAL TASK UNLOCKED]
["TASK 1: RESURRECT YOUR MOTHER"]
[Mother: Lilith Von Tal (Draven Clan Matriarch)]
[Status: Soul Destroyed 5 Years Ago (Saving You from Assassination)]
[Requirements: Level 40 + Unique Resurrection Pill]
[Reward: 10,000 EXP + Unique Void Dragon Affinity + Draven Clan Absolute Loyalty]
Kai's breath caught. His mother. Lilith Von Tal. The woman who sacrificed everything—her cultivation, her life, her soul—to shield him from an assassination attempt five years ago. but currently currently my mother is alive.
***
A knock sounded at the door.
"Young Master Kai," came a servant's respectful voice. "The Elders await you in the main hall. They wish to discuss your Heavenly Sword Academy admission."
Kai's mind raced. He remembered this day. The formal meeting. The academy acceptance. His first steps toward the fate that would destroy him.
Not this time.
He dressed quickly—black silk robes with silver Draven Clan embroidery.
He paused with his hand on the latch, staring at his reflection one final time. Golden eyes burned with new purpose.
The original Kai Draven had walked through this door toward infatuation, manipulation, and death.
This Kai Draven would walk through toward war—against Elara's schemes, Lian's destiny, and the novel's prophecy itself.
He knew every plot point. Every scheme. Every betrayal.
And now he had a system that rewarded him for countering them.
Kai opened the door. The servant bowed deeply.
"Lead the way."