"Eternal Galaxy, Planet Arcadian, Crescent Empire, Dark Star Kingdom, Maelstrom City, the Graegor family, it is finally time. From the universe we descend, and from thy realm we draw power. Awaken with us the gift of Mana!"
Artorias, patriarch of the Graegor family, stood tall upon a raised platform inside a hall so vast and radiant it mocked the very idea of castles. His voice cracked like thunder, shaking every heart present.
As the words left his lips, the runes carved into the platform blazed alive. From the depths of the cosmos, streams of mana coalesced, whirling like stars being born.
He watched in silence, then exhaled a heavy breath. His next words came out barely above a whisper, yet the sheer force within them carried across the crowd like a wave.
"Let the Ten Thousand Awakening Ceremony of the Great Mana Awakening... begin."
*BOOOOM!*
The air detonated as the gathered mana burst apart, scattering into dazzling motes of light before spiraling into form, the Awakening Orb.
Artorias's stern face softened with satisfaction. His gaze swept over the sea of young men and women. Freshly eighteen, standing on the cusp of their destinies. Today, they would awaken their classes, stepping beyond the limits of mortals into the ranks of Hunters.
The preparations were complete. He raised a hand, signaling to a bald-headed figure, his eldest son, Rarvo, to proceed.
Before he could take his place at the high seat reserved for him, Artorias's gaze shifted to his favorite grandson: Aurelium Draegor. And with good reason. His exceptional mastery of the Eight Step Martial Technique that prepared them for awakening set him apart.
While others took years to learn it, Aurelium had done so in months. His genius, his strategies, Artorias had no doubt he would not disappoint.
The boy had already proven his potential beyond reasonable doubt. As all this unfolded, the youth in question stood there, blank, staring at everything as if it were surreal.
Hell, he had been dying a second ago, and the next moment he was in the middle of some city of some sort.
He was wearing imperial purple leather, which made him doubt his own identity. "It can't be..." he whispered under his breath.
"I've transmigrated!!!?"
The only thing keeping him sane was that he was surrounded by thousands of other youths.
The only difference he noticed was that his robes were different. While others wore purple robes with a crest on their arms, he wore what he would describe as a complicated mark spiral around it in some sort of entrancing display. It was amazing.
That aside, he regained his clarity as he tried to make sense of everything happening.
The fact he was already some kind of young master, big shot, was already a big win. His knowledge of the thousands of novels he'd read before was coming into play.
Before he could pry deeper into his thoughts, what he could only describe as excruciatingly agonizing pain flared in his brain.
It was as if a thousand needles were prickling his skull. Grinding his teeth, he clenched his fists, bracing himself.
He was no longer who this body had been. If an anomaly were detected because of him, he could be in deep trouble.
"What the fuck!" he cursed, the surreal experience overwhelming him. His attempt to brace against the pain masked the true changes taking place.
Memories of things he didn't know flooded him. It was as if he were living someone else's life. Truly strange.
As the sensation faded, a whisper escaped his lips, and with it, a smirk threatened to split his face in two.
If there had been any doubt before, there was none now. He had truly transmigrated, into the body of a noble prince.
Even better, he had a cool-ass name to boot. Back on Earth, the name Max had been a little too... common. Hell, he knew a couple dozen dogs that shared the same name. But now? Boom—Aurelian Draegor.
"It's like I'm some fucking dragon or something," he giggled softly, unable to restrain himself. Even stranger, the moment he mentioned dragons, memories surfaced in his mind.
Fire-breathing dragons. His bloodline descended from dragons.
He straightened, the pieces clicking together. He wasn't just dropped into another world, he was the protagonist of one. His memories of Earth novels told him as much.
This was exactly how it started.
Arcadian. A planet like Earth, until ten thousand years ago.
The mana cataclysm had changed everything. Plants warped, animals mutated into nightmares, and humanity fell to the bottom of the food chain.
Civilization crumbled. Cities became fortresses. People barely survived.
Until the dungeons appeared.
Mystical realms teeming with monsters weaker than the horrors outside. Humanity rallied. Treasures dropped from slain beasts, artifacts from dungeon bosses, and most importantly, mana orbs.
Orbs that awakened talents. The greater the orb, the greater the awakening.
With awakening came power. With power came rank. From F-rank weaklings... to SSS-rank legends.
He drew in a shaky breath as the knowledge settled in.
"Holy fucking shit..."
The information just kept coming, and there was nothing he could do.
And the more he saw, the more serious he became. Previously he had been overwhelmed with the excitement of a new world. Now he was slammed with the realization that his next course of life would be determined by the talent he awakened.
Hell, if he awakened a trash talent, everything he had would be revoked and handed to someone more worthy.
"Argh, fuck! Just when I thought I had a cheat," he cursed. But before he could continue, he froze in thought. A grin stretched across his face.
"Hahaha, why hadn't I thought of that? I'm supposed to be an anime protagonist with a cheat. Then how the fuck do I lack a transmigrator's beginner pack?"
With a faint hint of anticipation, a whisper escaped his lips:
"System?"