I stood upon the battlefield, the world around me a roaring furnace of hungry flames. Through the haze of smoke, I looked up and saw him: the Almighty Archmage, the pinnacle of human sorcery, collapsed on one knee. He was battered, bleeding, and utterly drained of mana.
A cocktail of shock and horror surged through me. How could this be? "Archmage" was not merely a title; it was the designation given to the strongest soul of our era. Yet, here he sat, broken.
Three figures hovered above him like vultures circling a kill. The first was a being more like a sentient shadow than a man. It spoke saying "Is this all the power the God of Power has given to this mortal?"
The second was a colossus, towering and corded with muscle, his skin composed of obsidian scales that shimmered under the firelight. His glowing red eyes narrowed as he peered at the defeated master. "It appears the human was incapable of drawing out the full potential of his divine blessing," he rumbled.
The final member of the trio possessed a terrifying beauty—an entity that looked more like an angel than anything "We are fortunate this boy squandered his limitless potential," she mused with a cruel elegance. "Had he not, he might have actually grazed one of us. Who knows? He might have even been a threat."
The Archmage struggled to rise, his fingers clawing at the scorched earth, but he only managed to cough up a spray of crimson blood.
"Look at him," the shadow mocked. "He still tries to stand."
The scaled brute scoffed. "Let us not waste time. We have more important matters to attend to than loitering around a pathetic mage all day."
He extended a clawed hand. A tiny, condensed spark of dark yet bright crimson flame ignited in his palm. He aimed it at the Archmage's head. In that moment, my paralysis snapped. I realized that if that attack were to land it would kill the archmage, the only hope humanity has. If he dies then humanity was finished.
Gathering every ounce of strength in my weary legs, I sprinted. I threw myself in front of the Archmage, a human shield against the divine.
"Oh?" the angelic one chirped, her eyebrows arching in genuine surprise. "What do we have here? A mortal with bravery? It is rare for their kind to showcase such selflessness without an inkling of self-gain."
"It matters not," the scaled one growled. "They both die now."
I braced myself, teeth Grit. If I can buy him even half a second to think, to breathe, to find a spark of hope... it will be worth it.
The dark crimson flame expanded instantly, a tidal wave of heat that erased the world. My vision dissolved into a blurry, searing red. Then, there was nothing.
I opened my eyes to a boundless expanse of white. No heat, no pain—just silence. Then, a voice resonated through the emptiness.
"Hello Eres, You must be disoriented, but I am short on time, so I shall be brief. You and the Archmage perished at the hands of those three demons."
So, I had failed. My sacrifice was a footnote in the extinction of my race. The Archmage—our only hope—was gone.
"The Archmage was indeed the strongest of your era," the voice continued, reading my thoughts, "but he was still too weak. His power birthed arrogance. While he trained, he lacked the one thing essential for true power, desire. He did not crave power because he already possessed it. By the time he truly hungered for the strength to survive, he was already at death's door."
I listened, the cold logic of the words sinking in. Those who truly desire something will always outpace those who dont feel that desperation.
"He was overconfident, and it led to his demise. However, his death is an unacceptable outcome. This is where you come in. You sacrificed yourself for mankind even when hope had vanished. Therefore, I ask you to devote yourself to the mission you are about to receive."
What the hell is this voice talking about? Devote myself? I thought bitterly. I'm a ghost in a white room.
"Your mission is this: You will be reincarnated as a low-ranking noble. You will enter the Rycarn Academy, and you must ensure the future Archmage does not become complacent. You must push him to reach the true pinnacle of his power. Whether you guide him directly or influence him from the shadows, I do not care. Just ensure that when the darkness invades, he is strong enough to slaughter it. Good luck."
"Wait! What do you mean—"
My eyes snapped open. I gasped, frantically scanning the room for the source of the voice. I scrambled out of bed, my legs feeling strangely light, and dashed toward a full-length mirror.
I froze. The reflection staring back was that of a teenager.
The voice hadn't been a hallucination. I had actually been sent back. I was in the body of some well dressed teen. Before I could process the shock, the door burst open. A woman in a neat maid's uniform, her brown hair tied back, rushed in with a worried expression.
"Young Master! Are you alright? I saw you running frantically—is something wrong?"
As I looked at her, a violent surge of information flooded my brain. Memories that weren't mine—the life of this body's previous owner—flashed behind my eyes like a fever dream.
"Young Master?" she pressed, her voice trembling. "You seem... off."
Her name was Patricia. She had cared for this boy since his childhood. I forced a reassuring smile, trying to steady my racing heart. "Yes... everything is fine, Patricia. I just felt a bit lightheaded for a moment."
She let out a sigh of relief. "I am glad to hear it, young master."
"I would like to be alone for a while to gather my thoughts," I added softly.
She bowed politely and retreated, closing the door with a soft click. I sat on the edge of the bed, my mind whirling. If that entity told the truth, the demons would return. I had to make sure the future archamge would be strong enough to handle them.
The future Archmage would eventually attend the Rycarn Academy. In this world, the gap between commoners and nobles was an ocean, bridged only by the "Blessing of the Heavens." Most noble houses held ancient contracts ensuring their children received a god's favor. Going as far as to build shrines and pray to certain gods to recieve a powerful blessing. As a commoner in my past life, I had nothing. It was very rare a commoner would receive a blessing. But very rarely they might receive one from a minor god and in extremely rare cases they coukd receive a blessing from a major god. But now, as a noble—even a low-ranking one—a blessing was guaranteed.
I realized then that I couldn't just be a cheerleader. To push the strongest man in the world, I had to be strong myself. I had to be a rival, a wall, and a comrade all at once.
I looked at my hands, youthful and unscarred. The mission is hoing to be long and hard but for the first time, I had the tools to change the ending. No matter the cost I have to make sure hes strong so that humanity won't go extinct on that day.