Kang Jiwon's eyelids sagged as the glow of his phone screen burned into his tired eyes. It was past three in the morning, another night stolen by web novels. He scrolled lazily, fingers smudging the glass, rereading the same sentence twice before the meaning stuck.
The Crown Prince raised his flaming sword and declared, "The goddess has chosen me!"
Jiwon snorted. "Of course she did. What else is new?"
He leaned back in his creaky chair, groaning as his spine protested. He'd lost count of how many novels he'd devoured this month—ten, maybe fifteen? Always the same formula. A whiny protagonist, showered with blessings, fumbling his way to victory through sheer plot armor. It was insulting.
"If I were him," Jiwon muttered bitterly, "I'd do it better."
His phone slipped from his hands. Darkness pulled at his consciousness. And just like that, the world he knew vanished.
He woke up choking.
Not the dull, harmless kind of choking that came from a dry throat. This was different—sharp, burning, like his lungs had been filled with smoke. His whole body screamed as he stumbled forward, legs moving before his brain could catch up.
The ground beneath him was damp, mud sticking to his boots—boots?—and the scent of wet pine filled his nose. His heart hammered so hard he thought it might burst from his chest.
And then he heard it.
A roar. Deep, guttural, filled with the primal hunger of something that was not human.
Jiwon's stomach dropped. His vision darted back, just in time to see trees snapping like twigs as a monstrous shadow crashed through the underbrush.
"Run," he whispered to himself.
So he ran.
Every breath burned. Branches whipped against his face, leaving shallow cuts that stung. His silver gauntlet clinked against his side as he pumped his arms—wait. Silver gauntlet? His eyes flicked down as he sprinted, catching the briefest glimpse of a crest etched into the leather.
A family sigil. Noble. Expensive.
That realization barely had time to register before another thought slammed into him. His reflection, caught in a puddle mid-stride, revealed golden eyes that shimmered even in the night. His hair—white, silvery-white—fluttered against his cheek.
"This isn't—this can't be—"
The monster behind him let out another roar, silencing all doubt.
Adrenaline drowned his confusion. He leapt over a gnarled root, stumbled, regained his footing, and pushed his body further. He had no idea how he was moving this fast, how his body felt both foreign and powerful, but none of it mattered. Survival came first.
Through the blur of trees, he spotted a break in the forest—a jagged opening in the earth. A cavern, its mouth wide, swallowing the moonlight.
It was either sanctuary or grave.
Leon dove in.
The sound of claws raking across stone reverberated behind him. The beast snarled but did not enter. The cave seemed to repel it, its growl echoing one last time before fading back into the forest.
For a long moment, the only sound was Leon's gasping breath. He collapsed against the wall, mud soaking into his clothes, chest heaving.
"This isn't… this can't be real."
But the sting of cuts on his face was real. The taste of blood on his tongue was real. The pounding in his ears was real.
Memories—fragmented, blurry—spilled into his mind. Not his own, but Leon Galehart's. Wealthy noble parents, now gone. A sister, Ylira, burning like fire in his thoughts. An invitation to Ashkarion Academy, the pride of the kingdom.
He pressed a trembling hand against his temple. "Ashkarion Academy…? That's…" His voice cracked. "This is the novel."
The one he'd been reading. The Path of the Doomed Hero.
But he wasn't the hero. He wasn't the arrogant Crown Prince, Dorian Ashkarion. He wasn't the blessed protagonist. He was—
"An extra," Leon muttered, the word bitter on his tongue. "Just some side character no one cared about."
His laugh was hollow. "Perfect. Kang Jiwon finally escapes his crappy life just to end up as a disposable nobody in fiction."
The cave answered not with silence, but with a hum.
Low. Resonant. Alive.
Leon stiffened. It wasn't his imagination. The air thickened, vibrating with an unseen rhythm, like the heartbeat of the earth itself. He swallowed hard, forcing his legs to move deeper into the darkness.
The further he went, the colder it became. His breath misted in the air, crystallizing. His boots scraped against stone, the sound unnaturally loud.
And then—
Two eyes opened in the void.
Not human eyes. Vast, luminescent orbs of crackling azure lightning. They pierced the darkness like lighthouses guiding doomed ships into stormy seas.
Leon froze. Every instinct screamed run, but his body was shackled by awe and terror.
The shadows shifted, and the cavern revealed its master.
Scales like storm-forged steel glimmered in faint light. A maw lined with jagged fangs exhaled air that smelled of ozone and rain. Wings, though folded, seemed to stretch endlessly, brushing against the cavern's walls. The sheer size of it defied logic.
A dragon.
Leon's knees nearly gave out.
Then it spoke.
"At last…" The voice rumbled through his bones, a thunderclap wrapped in words. "…you've come."
Leon's mouth went dry. His tongue refused to form words.
"Sylara," the dragon declared. "The Storm Dragon. The last sovereign of the skies. And you…" Lightning crackled along its fangs as it leaned closer, eyes narrowing. "…you are late."
"I—I think you've made a mistake," Leon stammered. "I'm not whoever you think I am. I was just… reading, and then—"
"You carry storms in your blood." The cavern trembled with the weight of Sylara's words. "Your heart sings with the resonance of the skies. You are the one I've waited for."
Leon's heart stopped. He tried to argue, but the dragon's gaze was suffocating.
"I don't even know what you're talking about! I'm not special—I'm not—"
The dragon's growl was like rolling thunder.
"Whether you remember or not is irrelevant. Fate has brought you here. I will not let you escape."
Before Leon could react, Sylara's chest split with searing light. A crystalline heart, pulsing with lightning, tore free from the dragon's body. It hovered, glowing brighter than the sun, arcs of energy snapping against the stone walls.
Leon's eyes widened. "Wait—hold on! I never agreed to this—"
The heart slammed into his chest.
Agony consumed him.
It was as if his body was being unmade, every nerve shredded by lightning, every vein frozen and burned at once. He screamed, the sound echoing through the cavern, but there was no escape. Water roared through his veins. Wind howled in his lungs. Ice clawed at his bones. Lightning devoured his heart.
And through it all, Sylara's voice echoed in his skull.
"From this moment, you are bound to me. My storm is your storm. My heart, your heart. Rise, Leon Galehart—the Magic Swordsman of the Storm."
The cavern erupted with light. Bolts of lightning carved glowing veins into the walls. Leon's body collapsed, smoking..
He gasped, clutching his chest, where a faint glow pulsed beneath his skin.
Then, a second voice filled his mind. Calm. Eternal. Inevitable.
"Get used to it, boy. You belong to me now."
Leon groaned, rolling onto his back. Despite the lingering pain, a crooked smirk tugged at his lips.
"Great. First I get dropped into a death world with no tutorial, then a dragon force-feeds me its heart. At least…" He brushed a lock of his damp hair aside, admiring how it shimmered in the glow of lightning veins. "…I look good."
Sylara's sigh reverberated like distant thunder.
Leon closed his eyes, the faintest laugh escaping his lips despite everything.
For the first time in centuries, the storm had awakened.
And Leon Galehart's second life had just begun.
But as the cavern's silence settled, another thought clawed its way into his mind. Faint, fragile—yet urgent.
Ylira.
His sister's name pulsed in his chest like a second heartbeat. And with it, a memory. A sealed envelope. An invitation.
Ashkarion Academy.
His eyes snapped open, breath catching. "The Academy… that's tomorrow."
Panic and purpose collided in his veins. He had to find her—had to reach home.
Because if he didn't… his second life might end before it even started.