⟪Wake Up…Hero⟫
My eyes opened. There was no pain,I barely felt anything except relief. My joints ached with stiffness, and when I tried to move, my body resisted as though unwilling to obey.
Then, without warning, a current of energy stirred within me. It surged through my limbs, and with it came a strange renewal. Almost like a body on the brink of death rediscovering life.
As the energy faded, my senses returned one by one. I felt the cold stone of a sarcophagus beneath my back. Darkness pressed in on all sides, suffocating and heavy. Just as panic threatened to rise, the coffin's lid shifted.
A sliver of dim light spilled through the gap. Weak though it was, it still stung my eyes. Slowly, I blinked until the outlines of my surroundings began to take shape. It was the first light I had seen after what felt like an eternity of slumber.
I raised an arm and stared at the flesh of my hand. It looked fresh, far too fresh for someone who had been sealed away for… who knew how many years. My fingertips traced the coffin's carved patterns, the grooves worn yet still vivid.
It amazed me that the carvings had endured the passage of time. Strange, how a simple touch could remind me that I still lived.
Slowly, I pulled myself free from the coffin. For countless ages it had been my place between life and death. My feet hovered over the stone floor, hesitantly,before I placed my right foot down.
The air was cool against my bare skin. To my surprise, the floor was not as cold as I expected.
"Hah…" A breath escaped with that first step. Then came the second. At last, I was free from a slumber that had lasted millennia.
The air smelled faintly of dust and long-extinguished incense, dry and metallic.
I glanced back at the sarcophagus. Though inanimate, it felt as if it gazed into me,into the very core of my soul.
I examined myself. My once-white robes had withered into rags, hanging loosely. I could not recall my face, so I traced the lines with trembling fingers, hoping for a memory that never came.
Again, I looked to the sarcophagus. Though lifeless, I felt gratitude for its protection. It had preserved me so I could live to fulfill my duty.
I bowed my head. "Thank you," I whispered. Of course, it gave no reply. I hadn't expected it to.
The mausoleum was carved from ancient stone, its walls etched with fading engravings. They told stories of an empire under siege: winged beasts circling a burning citadel, demonic creatures tearing down castles, dragons soaring overhead. At the center of it all was a stylized sun.
Something stirred within me. Though my memories were fractured, I recalled a prosperous kingdom torn apart by brutal invaders. The carvings confirmed that my faint recollections were true.
Above the panels, words in a nearly forgotten tongue caught my eye. They twisted into shapes I half-recognized, as though my own language had aged without me.
⟪Lo, harken to the words of ages past.
The Kingdom of Krieg, land anointed by grace, stood proud, yet its crown bore the weight of foreboding.
In the dusk of The Great War, when ash choked the skies and rivers bled sorrow, the High King foresaw omens of darker days.
Thus, he summoned the peerless. Warriors unbroken by despair, blades tempered by countless battles.
By rite and rune, he bound them in sanctified stone, to slumber beyond the reach of time.
When the bells of ruin toll, when shadows stretch over fields and thrones alike, the sealed shall awaken.
They shall rise, clad in the will of ages, to guard Krieg's final light and strike against the tide of doom. Even if kingdoms fall and centuries fade.⟫
The meaning was rough, but enough. I was one of those warriors. My duty was to defend Krieg.
But where was it now? Did its borders still exist, or had it shrunk, vanished, or been forgotten?
Was I truly the man who entered that coffin or just an echo of what remained?
"If time has devoured my name," I muttered, "then what remains for me to protect?"
The weight of existence pressed heavy on my chest. But I won't let myself be dragged into shadows of my own making.
"No," I said firmly to the silent chamber. "So long as a fragment of Krieg survives, I will protect it."
Those words steadied me.
I searched the room by the dim glow of magical lanterns until something beneath the sarcophagus caught my eye: a stone vault etched with runes. Some were arcane, some more mechanical.
I placed my palm on its surface. I searched inside my emptiness and felt the small flickers of mana. Slowly,I harnessed the mana and flower it into the vault.
I felt the smooth stone come alive as blue light flared across the runes. With a low grind, the vault slid open. It seemed to recognize me through my mana.
Inside were three compartments.
The first held armor, dark and smooth, untouched by time. I donned it piece by piece. Light yet unyielding, it fit as though made for me. A full-faced helmet rested among the pieces, but I left it aside. My vision was too important to hinder. Not out of caution though, but because I wanted to see life clearly.
The second held a long white cloak, frayed but dignified. I fastened it at my shoulders, letting it fall behind me.
The third held a spear of black steel, its blade long and heavy. I lifted it.
The blade was as long and forged for battle.tapering to a sharp point. The blade and shaft merged almost seamlessly and it was testament to great skill.
"Hello….," I whispered.
Etched words ran along the polearm, though I could not read them. Perhaps once they held meaning for me.
"It will be inconvenient to carry around," I murmured.
Instinct guided me. Muscle memory stirred. Closing my eyes, I focused inward on the hollow at my core and the spear in my hand.
The weapon shimmered, then dissolved into nothingness. Yet I still felt its weight, its presence, within my chest. I absorbed the helmet the same way, storing it within the abyss of my heart.
Pressing a hand over my chest, I listened to the steady beat of life.
"How long has it been since I last heard this?" I whispered.
The rhythm of my heartbeat echoed in my ear.
The rhythm of my life.
A small, almost reluctant smile tugged at my lips as I let my gaze wander over the carved walls, tracing the memories etched into their surface.
"No matter," I murmured. "This is a new beginning. A new life. I will see it through. I will fulfill my duty even in a new world."
From the ashes of the old, I had emerged reborn.
I understood my duty. And because of that, I understood myself.