Licht stood before the towering palace, his body frozen in place. An unshakable dread seeped into his bones, coiling around his heart like a serpent. His instincts screamed at him to run.
Something inside was watching and waiting.
Then, a pair of giant crimson eyes flared to life in the abyss.
They burned through the darkness, piercing into his soul with an unfathomable presence. It was something that did not belong to this world.
Licht's breath hitched. His throat dried. His pulse pounded in his ears. For the first time, in both of his lives, he felt it.
True fear.
His lips trembled as he uttered, barely above a whisper, "W-what... is that...?"
The moment the words left his mouth, the eyes shifted, not staring at his body, but into the depths of his very being.
Then, his mind shattered.
A sudden force ripped it open, flooding it with memories he wished had died with him.
The scent of blood. The deafening roar of war.
Screams.
Licht gasped as he saw himself, crawling through corpses, his hands drenched in red. His mother—his mother from his first life—lay before him, her breath shallow, her body torn apart.
"M-Mom…?" His voice trembled as he reached out, hands shaking.
Her gaze found him weak, glassy, yet full of love. "Licht… my child…" Her lips quivered. "Run… please… run…"
A choked sob tore from his throat. "I.. I can heal you! Please, just.."
Her fingers brushed against his cheek, smearing her warmth before falling limp.
Then..
An arrow pierced her throat.
Her body convulsed. Blood gushed from her lips. And just like that..
She was gone.
"No.. NO! MOM!"
Licht clutched her lifeless form, shaking, screaming until his throat run dry. He turned, his eyes wild, searching..
And there..
His father lay in the dirt, his lifeless eyes staring at the sky. A spear had pierced his heart.
Licht's breath turned ragged. His chest heaved.
"No… no, no, no…"
Despair. Anger. Resentment.
And yet, the vision did not stop.
Blood. Betrayal. Lothar.
He found himself in a familiar place, beneath the shade of an ancient tree. A soft breeze rustled the leaves. Across from him, Lothar sat, his expression serene, as if the horrors of the past had never touched him.
"It's good to see you again, Licht," he said, smiling.
Licht's throat tightened. He stepped forward, barely able to breathe. "Lothar..." His fists clenched, nails digging into his palm. Emotion swelled within him, raw and unrestrained.
"Do you know why I always came here whenever I needed to think?" Lothar asked, his gaze lifting to the sky. "It reminds me of when we were children. Back then, we had no worries... no burdens." His smile remained, but there was a sorrow behind it, one that Licht understood all too well.
Tears blurred Licht's vision. His voice came out as a whisper. "I'm sorry."
Lothar turned to him, his expression gentle. "Why are you apologizing?" He placed a hand on Licht's shoulder. "Don't lose yourself."
The light in his eyes faded.
Licht gasped as the memory dissolved. A broken cry tore from his throat, and his knees buckled. His past, his failures, the weight of it all crushed him.
His breath came in short, ragged gasps. The ringing in his ears drowned out everything else.
His heartbeat..
Ba-dump. Ba-dump. Ba-dump.
Louder. Faster. Unrelenting.
His vision blurred. His hands trembled. His soul cracked.
The pain was unbearable. Crimson light pulsed through his veins, his body trembling as raw hatred surged within him.
"Revenge..." His voice was hoarse, barely human. "Lothar... I will kill them all!"
Suddenly, in front of him, the monstrous presence filled the air, thick with malice.
A voice that is ravaged, guttural, ancient has slithered into his ears, curling around his very essence.
It did not speak. It screeched.
A wretched cacophony that tore through his skull.
Licht clutched his head, gasping. "Arghh!" His body trembled, wracked with agony.
Then, the darkness moved.
A sudden surge of mana erupted around him. The palace trembled. An ethereal crimson glow condensed between him and the being.
Licht started to float. He couldn't move a muscle. He had no control over his body.
Then, the condensing crimson glow took shape, a heart.
Licht shouted inwardly, "A heart?! It's... pulsing. Alive."
Before he could think again..
SHNK!
Something pierced his chest.
Licht gasped, eyes widening in sheer horror. His gaze dropped to where a gaping hole had formed.
A chain binding the crimson heart had pierced through Licht's chest, embedding itself where his heart should be.
Ethereal mana surged through the air.
The world around him blurred.
Licht, still in shock, saw the heart that is bound, yet alive and it is slowly pulling toward him, as if they were meant to fuse.
It radiated raw, chaotic power.
Before he could comprehend what was happening, it burrowed into his chest.
...
At the same time, Julius, still checking the surroundings, felt the mana surge spiraling out of control.
"Licht!"
A pulsing, radiant energy is occurring from Licht's body.
"Antonette! Quick, leave now! Another burst of energy is coming!"
...
Licht's body convulsed. Searing heat flooded his veins, twisting and warping his very being.
Something inside him awakened.
A hunger that was not his own.
Darkness swallowed him whole.
The last thing he saw was the pair of eyes staring right through him, and a voice that's deeper, ancient, undeniable whispered.
"Revenge."
...
A deafening pulse of energy erupted from Licht, the crimson barrier around him swelling before violently expanding outward.
BOOM!
The upper half of the Arthas estate's second floor shattered. Walls crumbled, furniture was obliterated, and debris rained down like falling stars. The night air howled as shockwaves rippled through the surroundings.
In the backyard, Julius Arthas instinctively raised an arm to shield himself from the blast. His sharp eyes darted upward and there, amidst the wreckage and swirling embers, was Licht.
Floating.
Crimson energy coiled around the boy's small frame, flickering like flames. His crimson hair, wilder than before, billowed upward, as if caught in an unseen storm.
Julius felt a chill run down his spine. His grip tightened around his sword.
"What... is happening?"
A deep fear, foreign yet undeniable, clenched at his chest. His son was wrapped in an aura that screamed of something beyond human understanding.
Beside him, Antonette gasped, her eyes wide with terror.
"Julius!" she cried, clutching his arm. "Please! Save Licht!"
Julius gritted his teeth. "Even I cannot go near him right now..."
The pressure radiating from Licht was suffocating, an unseen force keeping everyone at bay.
"Benson!" he shouted. "Order the knights to stand by! Do not engage, just be prepared for anything!"
The Knight, though visibly shaken, bowed swiftly. "Yes, my lord!"
Above them, Licht's body trembled. His unconscious form slowly descended, and with it, the chaotic energy began to settle. His wild hair drifted back down, no longer affected by the overwhelming force.
Then, his eyes snapped open.
His pupils glowed faintly as he took a slow breath. His small hands clenched and unclenched as if testing his strength. He felt different. Stronger. Whole.
A low murmur escaped his lips.
"So... it was all a dream?"
He instinctively checked his body, running his fingers over his chest, arms, and stomach—searching for wounds. There were none. His brows furrowed as he whispered,
"Lothar... I promise you."
Then, finally, his gaze lifted, and his stomach dropped.
His room or what remained of it, was in ruins.
Chunks of the ceiling lay scattered across the floor. The walls bore deep scorch marks, pulsing faintly with the remnants of crimson energy. The air smelled of burning wood and dust.
His eyes widened in alarm. "What happened?! Why is my room in ruins?!"
Turning toward the open space where the wall had once been, he spotted his parents below, both standing in the backyard, staring up at him in shock.
Their expressions mirrored one another: fear, concern, and above all, desperation.
Before he could react, Julius and Antonette rushed upstairs, their steps quick, frantic, unrelenting. The moment they reached him, they grabbed his shoulders, checking him for injuries.
"Licht!" Julius demanded, his voice sharp but laced with worry. "Are you alright?! What happened?! What was that crimson glow just now?!"
Antonette, her hands trembling, placed a palm on his cheek. "My son... are you hurt? Did that symbol trigger this?"
A barrage of questions followed, their panic clear.
Licht blinked, overwhelmed by their presence. His mind was still sluggish, his thoughts slow to catch up. He met their gazes, struggling to form a proper response.
Then, in the softest, most childlike tone, he muttered,
"I... I think it's because of this symbol..."
His fingers lightly brushed the nape of his neck, where the insignia pulsed faintly.
"I don't know what happened, Father..."
Before he could say another word, his vision blurred.
His body swayed.
A sudden, crushing exhaustion bore down on him, stealing the strength from his limbs.
His world tilted..
Then, darkness.
...
The next thing Licht knew, he was somewhere else.
Soft sheets. A familiar scent.
He was in his mother's room.
Slowly, his eyelids fluttered open. The dim glow of candlelight flickered in the corner, casting long shadows against the finely decorated walls.
Yet, there was no one around him.
He shifted, pushing himself upright. His muscles ached, his body still adjusting to the lingering exhaustion from the event.
Then, he instinctively reached inward.
His mana core.
His breath hitched.
"This...?"
A deep crimson glow pulsed within him, alive, burning with an intensity he had never felt before.
His mind reeled as the realization set in.
"A crimson mana core...?"
Mana cores were typically bluish, blue, yellowish, gold, and yet his was an impossibly rich shade of red, darker than blood, more profound than fire.
And then, as he focused deeper..
His veins.
Mana veins, the channels that determined one's affinity and potential which was typically ranged from one to eight, with 9 to 10 being unheard of in recorded history..
But as he traced them within himself, something felt wrong.
His heart screamed in his chest.
He counted.
One.
Two.
Three.
Four….
His hands trembled.
"No... it can't be."
His breath came out in a shaky whisper.
"Ten veins...?"
His eyes widened in sheer disbelief.
That was impossible.
No human had ever been recorded with ten mana veins. Even the greatest legends, those who ascended to divinity, barely reached nine.
Yet, here he was.
A cold shiver ran down his spine.
"What... have I become?"