The rain had not stopped since morning.
Nox stood alone at the edge of the broken training ground, his thin clothes soaked, his hands trembling—not from cold, but from memory.
This was the place.
The place where everything ended in his first life.
The cracked stone floor still carried faint sword marks. Rusted wooden dummies leaned like corpses that had given up standing. For others, it was just an abandoned ground. For Nox, it was a grave.
"Looks the same…" he muttered.
Three years ago—no, one lifetime ago—this was where his so-called friends smiled at him for the last time.
They had said they wanted to help him train.
They had said he was talented.
They had lied.
Nox clenched his fist. His nails dug into his palm, drawing blood, but his face remained calm. In his previous life, he had cried here like a broken child. In this life, his eyes were dry.
Because tears were useless.
"Never again," he whispered.
In his first life, he had trusted too easily. He believed strength came from friendship. That belief had cost him everything—his future, his dignity, and finally, his life.
But fate had given him a second chance.
And this time, he would not waste it.
A sudden pressure spread through the air.
Nox froze.
The rain stopped falling around him—not because the sky had cleared, but because something unseen had pushed it away.
A presence.
Heavy. Ancient. Watching.
Nox slowly turned around.
At the center of the training ground, a black stone pillar stood where nothing had been before. Strange symbols crawled across its surface, glowing faintly like dying stars.
"This wasn't here before…" Nox murmured.
As he stepped closer, the symbols reacted.
The moment his hand touched the stone—
—his vision shattered.
Darkness swallowed him whole.
Then, a voice echoed inside his mind.
"He who was betrayed…
He who died without a throne…
Do you seek strength?"
Nox did not hesitate.
"Yes."
The darkness trembled.
"Strength demands a price."
"I've already paid it," Nox replied coldly.
"With my life."
For a moment, there was silence.
Then—
Laughter.
Low. Deep. Not mocking—but approving.
"Very well, child of return.
The path of kings is cruel…
But you are crueler."
Pain exploded through Nox's body.
It felt as if his bones were being rewritten, his blood burned and reforged. He dropped to his knees, biting his lip so hard it bled—but not a sound escaped him.
He would not scream.
He had screamed enough in his last life.
When the pain finally faded, the rain returned.
Nox collapsed onto the stone, breathing heavily.
But he was smiling.
Because he could feel it.
Something had awakened inside him.
Not light.
Not hope.
But power.
And this time—
No one would take it from him.