"Aaahhh—!"
A scream tore from his throat as he instinctively covered his face, refusing to witness how he would die—devoured inside the colossal lion's maw.
His heart pounded violently.
So this is it… dying again.
But just as he braced himself for pain, something unexpected happened.
Warmth.
A gentle, comforting heat brushed against his skin, completely different from the crushing terror he had anticipated. Immediately after, an intense brightness flooded his vision.
"Ugh—!"
He raised his hands to shield his eyes from the blinding light. The warmth felt real—too real. Slowly, cautiously, he opened his eyes.
And froze.
This place was… strange.
No black void.
No lion.
No endless darkness.
Instead, he found himself lying on a soft bed in a modest room filled with warm sunlight. The air carried a faint woody scent, mixed with something metallic—iron, perhaps.
"…Where am I?"
His voice sounded different.
Higher. Softer.
Confused, he lifted his hands into view.
They were small.
Too small.
"No… this can't be right."
He clenched his fists, then opened them again.
Once.
Twice.
The movements responded perfectly—these hands were undeniably his.
His heart skipped a beat as realization struck.
My body… it's smaller.
Not just his hands—his entire body felt light, short, fragile. Nothing like the frail but mature sixteen-year-old body he once had. Panic slowly crept into his chest.
Did I… reincarnate?
Before his thoughts could spiral further, instinct took over. He slipped off the bed—nearly stumbling due to his short legs—and made his way toward a door at the corner of the room.
The bathroom.
His bare feet touched the cold wooden floor as he stepped inside. His gaze instinctively lifted—
And landed on the mirror.
He stared.
A young boy stared back at him.
The child had jet-black hair, though faint purple-silver streaks shimmered subtly when the light hit them just right. His face was well-shaped, almost unnaturally handsome for a child—sharp yet gentle features, smooth skin, and eyes…
Beautiful purple eyes.
Wide with shock.
"…That's me?"
He leaned closer to the mirror, turning his head left and right.
"So handsome…" he muttered unconsciously.
The realization hit a second later.
Why did I say that out loud?!
Just as he was processing his new appearance—
THROB.
A sudden, violent pain exploded inside his head.
"Ahhh—!"
He clutched his skull as if it were being smashed by invisible hammers. His vision blurred as foreign images flooded his mind.
Memories.
Not his.
He saw an old wooden house, rough and worn by time. He smelled smoke and burning coal. He felt intense heat as an elderly man hammered glowing metal over a blazing furnace—clang, clang, clang—sparks flying with every strike.
Knowledge poured in.
Geography. Culture. Language.
A kingdom.
Arkas.
A rural countryside, far from the capital. A peaceful but harsh land where only the strong survived.
As the pain subsided, he gasped for breath, sweat dripping down his forehead.
"…So that's it."
His lips trembled.
"I transmigrated."
Not just any world.
He was inside The Rise of Dawn—the very novel he had spent seven to eight years reading. The world he loved.
The world he dreamed about.
"…Fu*k."
He ran a hand through his hair, emotions conflicting within him.
"It's not that I hate this," he muttered. "I actually love this world."
But then his expression darkened.
"The problem is… this world doesn't love the weak."
In the world of Rise of Dawn, there was an unspoken rule carved into reality itself—
Only the strong have the right to live freely.
Without strength.
Without a powerful background.
Without a supporter.
He would be worse off than a slave.
He exhaled deeply, forcing himself to calm down.
"…At least I'm not an orphan."
Another memory surfaced.
A name.
Aarav.
He blinked.
"Huh… same name as mine?"
A bitter smile appeared on his face.
"Coincidence or fate… I'll take it."
From the memories, he understood that this body belonged to a young boy living with family.
Life wouldn't be easy—but it wouldn't be impossible either.
Just as he was organizing his thoughts—
"Aarav!"
A loud voice echoed from outside the room.
"Little Aarav! What are you doing in your bedroom? Are you awake or not?!"