The world holds its breath.
For a heartbeat, only my pulse answers the silence—slow, heavy, alive against the ruin around me. Ozone and blood sting my lungs. Carmila lies motionless beside the altar, her crimson aura guttered out like a dying flame. I force my body to move. Every muscle protests. Every step drags iron through my bones.
Then the air buckles.
It isn't wind. It isn't magic.It's existence losing its balance.
A pressure folds through the chamber—soundless, absolute. Light warps. Color drains. Space narrows until only he exists.
He doesn't appear. The world reshapes itself to contain him.The stones lean toward his gravity; mana recoils like prey before a predator. The rules that hold this realm together bend, trembling, to make room for something older than them.
My knees nearly give. Instinct demands I kneel.Even my aura—defiant, furious—flattens like ash before a storm.
He steps forward, and the floor hums in recognition.
I can't see his face. My eyes slide away, unable to grasp it. I catch only fragments—starlight woven into skin, shadow stitched into form. The air vibrates when he speaks.
"Adrian Kaelthorn Ravenshade."
Hearing my full name from that voice tears something open inside me. It isn't sound—it's judgment.
"You… know my name?" My voice trembles, smaller than I intend.
"I know what the world remembers of you," he says, calm as still water. "But memory and truth rarely agree."
Around him, constellations fracture—mirrors shattering across the skin of reality. The chamber itself shudders, like a body rejecting a god.
"Who are you?" I manage.
"You cannot yet understand," he replies, voice deep as gravity itself. "But this I can tell you: the Overlord you fear is not your end—it is the forge that will remake you."
The words strike harder than steel. "Forge?"
"Yes." No hesitation. No emotion. Only certainty."Defeat the Overlord, and you will stand at the threshold of understanding. Until then, you remain… incomplete."
Incomplete. The word bites deep. "What do you mean?"
His gaze pierces—though I can't see eyes, I feel them burning through every lie I've lived.
"You fight under a name that may not be yours. You live a life that may not have begun here. Tell me, Adrian Kaelthorn Ravenshade… are you the warrior this world forged, or the soul that slipped in from another? Are you man, echo, or something that defies both?"
The air chills. My pulse roars. "I don't understand."
"Not yet." His tone softens—a crack of humanity in the void."Defeat the Overlord—the tyrant crowned in voidfire, born of your forgotten sin. Rise beyond SSS rank. Only then will the seal within you break—and memory return."
Seal.The word ignites behind my ribs. I clutch my chest, and something ancient stirs beneath the skin—a pulse that isn't mine.
"You're saying I'm… not human?"
"Humanity," he says, "is a comfort built for limits. You will learn what you are when you no longer need that comfort."
The chamber groans. Dust spills from the ceiling. Mana ripples like water beneath thunder.
"Wait!" I shout. "Who are you to decide this?"
A flicker of amusement shades his voice. "Who am I? Less than you think. More than you can name. The Overlord is only the beginning, Adrian. Beyond that battle lies the truth you were never meant to forget."
He lifts his hand—or rather, the idea of a hand.Space bends. Light twists. Power floods without heat.It feels like watching the birth of energy itself—the moment before reality learns what power means.
"You seek truth," he says, his voice resonating through marrow and memory alike. "But truth is not granted—it is earned. When you stand above SSS rank, when the chains within your soul break, then you will awaken. Then you will remember."
The air fractures. Existence ripples outward in concentric cracks of light.
"When that moment comes," he says, "you will face what lies beneath your name. You will remember who you are, what you were, and why this world was shaped around your existence."
My voice cracks. "What will I find?"
He pauses—like eternity itself holding its breath.
"Whether the one who wakes is still Adrian Kaelthorn Ravenshade… or something far older."
The pressure spikes.Reality screams.
Stone splits as the chamber snaps back into shape. I shield my face against the blinding light—and when it fades, he's gone.
No sound. No presence.Only the echo of his words, whispering through the hollow air.
Silence returns, heavier than battle. His power lingers, etched into every breath I take. The world itself seems afraid to forget him.
I kneel beside Carmila. Blood gleams on her lips. She's breathing—fragile, but alive. Relief slices through the numbness, sharp and real.
The Overlord. My trial. My truth.If he was right, then every victory, every scar, every heartbeat… might not even be mine.
The thought should terrify me.Instead, it hardens into resolve.
I press my palm to the cold stone. My aura flickers, faint but unbroken. The runes dim. The weight in the air fades, leaving only iron and smoke.
"I don't know who I am," I whisper, "but I'll find out. And if the Overlord stands between me and that truth…"
The vow forms before I can think.
"…then I'll carve my way through."
Deep in the cracked altar, something hums—a note of recognition, low and resonant, like the world itself acknowledging my promise.
The silence settles once more. Dust drifts through the pale glow of my aura. Blood, smoke, and destiny hang in the air.
I tighten my grip on my sword—its edge chipped, its purpose clear.
Whoever I am—Adrian, stranger, or something far older—one truth remains.
When that voice calls my name again…
I'll be ready to answer.
Author's NoteEnd of Chapter XXX — The Truth Beneath the Name
Adrian has survived the ritual and witnessed a power beyond mortal comprehension. The next chapter begins as Carmila awakens, forcing them both to confront the aftermath—and the first signs of the Overlord's rise.