The kingdom of Lacrome was burning. Flame rose from the broken towers, castles and buildings. Black clouds rolled across the sky, hiding the sun, and blocking the light. The citizens ran around screaming in panic, as beasts clawed and ate away at them. In the centre of the ruined capital, two figures stood face to face. Their eyes narrowed at each other, their weapons readied.

  King Rivian Lionheart held the hilt of his sword, Valebringer, tightly in both hands. The blade glowed gold, ready to strike at any moment. His armour was dented, his face bruised, but his gold eyes burned with justice and vengeance.

  Across him stood the Dark Lord Aerion. The personification of evil. His black armor looked like it had been forged by the underworld. His sword, long and twisted, pulsed with black flames. Smoke and dark magic swirled around his feet.

  They continued to stare each other down. Studying every tick their bodies made. Every breath they took.

  “You will not take Sylon.” Rivian spat through gritted teeth, his eyebrows furrowing further. Aerion let out a deep chuckle, pointing his dark blade at the battered king.

  “I already have, and Lacrome is the last thing standing. With your death, I would have this continent bow at my feet.” He replied, his grin turning wicked as it widened. Without wasting a second, Aerion raised his free hand and shot a black ball of fire towards Rivian. The king dodge, his messy blonde hair flailing around in the wind. He rolled to the side then sprinted forward. Their swords clashed, sending shockwaves of light and dark.

  They moved around the air like thunder and lightning, fast yet extremely deadly. Rivian’s blade cut through the dark shadows surrounding Aerion’s armour and struck the metallic object, burning it. The Dark Lord was quick to strike back, his sword swinging across and breaking the king’s armour, slicing at his midsection and drawing blood.

  Rivian coughed up blood, his chest burning. Aerion then grabbed a fistful of the king’s hair and threw him from the sky towards the ground. Rivian landed on the ground with a large thud, his body arch upwards, coughing up even more blood. The dark lord made his way down, his red eyes looking down at the king with disdain. His sharp black teeth were curled up in a snarl. He continued watch in disgust as Rivian slowly got up, using his sword as leverage.

  “You can’t win.” Aerion hissed. The young man stood within the crater, slowly lifting his sword up.

  “I don’t need to,” Rivian said, “I just need to stop you, and if I die doing so, then I have kept my oath as the king of this land.” He added. “The other warriors and royals failed against you, but I won’t.”

  Aerion laughed mockingly, but it was cut short when Rivian lunged forward with the last of strength and his sword pointed. It was swift, quick, and it was effective. Valebringer pierced through the dark chest plate and through Aerion’s chest. A bright light emitted through the air, created another shockwave that blew buildings away.

  “You fought well, King Rivian Lioheard, but as I said, Sylon is mine. And the last kingdom, your kingdom, will die along with you.”

  Rivian had no strength to block the attack. Aerion had pierced his heart with his black sword, and filled his body with venous black flames.

  His gold eyes glanced at the dark skies, droplets of rain falling over him as he dropped to his knees.

  “Forgive me…..Lacrome. Forgive me….Sylon.”

  The great king had fallen.

  His sword had clattered to the ground.

  The only light left had vanished.

  Aerion stood over Rivian’s body, shadows swirling around him like a storm.

  “The age of darkness has begun.” He said. From the hills, the last of Lacrome’s people watched in horror and silence. Their king, the hope had been defeated. The world belonged to Aerion now, and there was nothing they could do to stop it.

  #####

  A shallow gasp for air ripped through Rivian’s throat as he opened his eyes. A blinding light seared his vision, and he groaned. Heat seared his back, and every muscle in his body screamed in protest as he shifted.

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  System Booting…

  Initializing Core Functions…

  Class: Magic Swordsman

  Rank: D

  XP: 150/6000

  Personal Mana Level: High

  New World Detected. Linking to Host Soul… COMPLETE. All system limitations will be taken off once you have reached S-rank.

  Strange glowing text shimmered faintly in his vision—weightless, intangible. It lingered for only a few heartbeats before fading.

  He stared, stunned.

  “What... was that?”

  The air around him was dry, the wind still. He blinked, slowly sitting up as the desert heat pressed into his skin. His gold armor was gone—replaced with a beige tunic and coarse brown trousers. Valebring, his blade of legend, was missing.

  Yet, he was alive.

  Somehow.

  Quest Log Updated

  Main Quest Unlocked: “The Second Oath”

  Objective: Discover the purpose of your rebirth. Survive in this world. Protect what matters.

  Reward: Unknown

  He turned slowly, eyes sweeping across the endless dunes. Red and yellow sand stretched in all directions. Far off, he saw strange clay-brick towers twisted like tree roots breaking through the earth. He had traveled the whole of Sylon—for diplomacy, for battle, for peace—but he had never seen this place.

  And then he looked up.

  The sky was golden, with an amber-hued sun hanging overhead. Not the soft lilac sun of his home. This world wasn’t Sylon.

  “Where am I?” he said aloud, his voice dry and cracked.

  He stood, though it hurt. His limbs trembled. His hands were empty. His heart felt hollow.

  He had failed.

  Lacrome had fallen. Sylon had fallen. Aerion had won. And he—the last oathbearer—had died.

  But… he was not dead.

  Something—someone—had given him another chance. Another world. Another path. Here, no one knew of Rivian the King. Rivian the Fallen. Here, he could choose what he became.

  He chuckled bitterly.

  “So even this… system knows.”

  And yet, as strange as it was, this interface—this structure—it was his alone. He felt it. No one else would see it. No one else would understand it.

  It was something new. Something... only he could use.

  Above, a bird glided through the sky, its wings made of glimmering crystal, refracting rainbow light. He stared at it in awe.

  Then the heat hit him hard.

  His vision blurred. His breath grew shallow. Sweat stung his eyes, and his limbs turned to lead.

  “No… not yet…”

  His knees gave out, and he collapsed forward into the scorching sand.

  Darkness took him again

  In the distance, a cloaked figure trudged through the sand, their tanned hand grasping the large stick tightly. Their two thick strands of orange hair that peaked through the cloak blew around, indicating a sand storm was afoot.

  Their azure eyes landed on Rivian’s unconscious body.

  “Oh my.”

  #####

  Rivian’s eyes slowly opened, looking at the brown ceiling above him. He let out what felt like the nth groan as he sat up, letting the thin blanket over him to pool at his waist. He brought up his pale hand to rub his eyes, in hopes to fix his vision a little.

  “Yay! You’re awake!” A child’s voice rang in his ear. He moved his gaze towards the voice and there stood a young girl in a long beige tunic, her short hair bounced around as she jumped up and down, her large azure eyes brimming with excitement. Rivian chuckled at the sight, but his attention turned towards the taller, tanned woman who walked into the room. She was in a tightly fitted tank top that showed her toned arms. Her legs were covered by dark brown cargo pants. Her boots rang heavy with each step she took. Her long orange hair rested down her back, two thick strands of hair framing her face.

  “Calm down, Lavinia. You’ll hurt yourself,” she stated, “and you need to head to old man Gaija to collect your magic books.” She concluded.

  Although dejected at first, Lavinia lit up as she heard that her books were ready. Without needing much convincing, Lavinia grabbed her cloak and boots, before rushing out the room. The tanned woman pushed her bangs out of her face, and let out a heavy sigh. Her azure eyes then moved to Rivian as she sat on the edge of the bed.

  “Sorry about that. My sister can be a bit much, especially when her healing magic works.” A sheepish chuckle escaped her lips. The gold eyed man shook his head vehemently.

  “I’m not bothered by it. You and your sister saved me,” he whispered. “If anything, I am indebted to you.” Rivian bowed in his seated position, which the young woman stopped by grabbing his shoulders and stopping him.

  “No need. There’s no way I could have left you there with a sandstorm afoot.” She explained. “I wouldn’t be able to sleep or have a good conscience if I did.”

  An awkward silence ensued as the two sat there, not knowing what to say.

  “I’m Leonora Baccanzo.” She introduced, unable to take the silence any longer. She offered him a gloved hand to shake.

  “Ki— Rivian Lionheart.” He replied. He wasn’t a king anymore. He was no longer worthy of such a title.

  “Okay, Rivian. Where are you from?” Leonora then asked.

  The young man froze, bringing a hand up to scratch the back of his head, letting out a sheepish and nervous chuckle.

  “Uh…..it’s kind of a long story.”