In a rift between dimensions, everything was engulfed in darkness—no light existed, not even a single particle of it.
There, amidst the void, stood a round table upon which rested a crystal radiating a mysterious aura. Within it, the battle between Ares and Antares was clearly displayed from its very beginning.
This was a gathering of kings—or rather, their projections. Their bodies were nothing more than dense mist, as though a supreme power concealed their true forms from all worlds.
These kings were incomprehensibly mighty beings, unreachable by any creature: the Dragon Queen, the Beast King, the Sword King, the Elf Queen, the Dwarf King, the Witch Queen, and the King of Light.
When they witnessed Antares being torn apart, and saw the ring that would remain sealed for at least ten thousand years before it could ever be released, they all felt immense relief.
Though their features were hidden, their excited auras caused the dimensional rift itself to tremble.
The Beast King's voice rose first—rough and savage, like a roar that shook space itself:
"Finally… Antares is finished."
He was followed by a gentle voice imbued with nature and warmth—the Elf Queen's:
"Yes. I believe we can rest for a long time now."
The Dwarf King laughed, his voice like iron striking stone:
"Hahaha! That fool… his arrogance is what brought him down. If he had agreed to stay with us, he wouldn't have met such an end. This is the result of his own choice."
The Witch Queen spoke next, her voice soft and enchanting, effortlessly captivating:
"True… he brought this upon himself."
The Sword King remained silent, sharp as an unsheathed blade, as did the Dragon Queen and the King of Light.
All of their gazes were fixed on the crystal, where Ares lay collapsed on the ground, his body kneeling and drenched in blood, while Raphael approached him.
When they heard the dialogue between the two, the expressions of the kings shifted; doubt and suspicion reflected within their misty forms.
The Sword King's voice rose, sharp enough to tear through everything:
"King of Light… what is the meaning of this?"
The Dragon Queen's voice thundered like a storm:
"Yes. We demand an answer!"
Yet the King of Light remained silent, calmly observing the scene, his eyes glowing faintly through the mist.
The other kings also fell silent, fully aware of the disparity in power among them: the King of Light, the Sword King, the Dragon Queen—and the one who had once been the strongest of them all… the King of Destruction, Antares.
Finally, the King of Light spoke, his tone calm and cold, indifferent to the pressure:
"What answer are you referring to?"
The Dragon Queen slammed her hand onto the table, causing the rift to shake violently:
"Don't play dumb. You know exactly what we mean!"
The King of Light smiled faintly:
"Oh… you mean why I ordered Raphael to dispose of that human?"
The Sword King spoke heavily and sternly:
"Yes. And we expect a satisfactory explanation."
The King of Light sighed lightly:
"Isn't it obvious? So that everyone may continue believing in us."
The Dwarf King scoffed:
"Hahaha! King of Light, don't pretend to be innocent. Even a fool can tell you care about something more."
The King of Light lifted his gaze from the crystal briefly, then returned it:
"This is for the benefit of all. Or would you rather that human use the Well of Worlds and give birth to a new king?"
Silence fell upon the kings as they contemplated his words.
The Witch Queen spoke softly, tilting her head in thought:
"But he's merely a sword user… he doesn't even possess a Seed of Law."
The Beast King growled:
"True. He has no hope of ascending to the rank of king, even if he uses the Well of Worlds."
The King of Light replied coldly:
"Perhaps. But are you certain he would follow only the Law of the Sword? What if he chose the Law of Darkness?"
The Sword King burst into laughter, his voice cutting with mockery:
"Hahaha! So that's your reason? You fear a mere possibility—less than a 0.1% chance that he might comprehend the Law of Darkness?"
The King of Light stared intently at the crystal before speaking slowly:
"Have you forgotten that prophecy? When darkness descends, the Lord of Darkness shall arise, and his armies will drown the worlds in death and chaos."
The Dragon Queen roared angrily, her voice echoing like thunder:
"You believe that prophecy?! Especially when it came from Antares himself?!"
As they argued, the Well of Worlds suddenly trembled and unleashed a colossal golden light that pierced the heavens, shaking all realms. It surged from the rift toward the world where Ares had self-destructed.
The kings were stunned.
"What?!"
"What's happening?!"
The golden light spread across all worlds, engulfing them like a flood of radiance.
Then, the gears of time began to turn—not forward… but backward.
In a fleeting instant, the light pierced Ares's soul and pulled it away, vanishing before all their eyes.
A heavy sense of dread settled over the kings.
The Well of Worlds was a mysterious existence. No one knew how it came to be—whether it was natural or forged by an unknown hand. What was known was that it gathered the energies of all worlds. No one knew how to fully exploit its power, but it followed a clear pattern: it granted rewards to anyone who accomplished something no one else could.
It possessed a strange, irresistible authority.
Its most dangerous ability: the reversal of time.
No being in existence was exempt—not the kings, not even the Abyss itself. Time began to flow backward, events and memories fading away as worlds were rewritten from scratch.
The sky was clear and blue, white clouds drifting slowly like fish in a vast sea, while the golden sun hung high like a jewel adorning the heavens.
The shouts of merchants filled the air, blending with the footsteps of pedestrians in the crowded streets, where the scents of spices and fresh bread lingered heavily.
The city was loud, moving like a massive engine running at full power. The clinking of gold echoed in merchants' hands, the ringing of iron filled the blacksmith workshops, and the steady march of soldiers on patrol resounded throughout. Among the crowds were adventurers carrying weapons and armor, dragging bloodstained prey behind them.
On the city's horizon stood a massive building, the sounds of training echoing from afar. Before its colossal gates, lines of youths came and went, while luxurious carriages occasionally stopped to let elegantly dressed nobles disembark.
Everyone was heading toward the greatest place of all: the Academy—the Heart, the institution from which the strongest knights, mages, alchemists, and tamers graduated. It was the pride of the human race, named the Heart because it pumped fresh blood into the veins of the human continent.
But this year was different. The gates were crowded with new faces from various races: dwarves, elves, demi-humans, and even some dragons.
Following the announcement of an alliance between humans and other races to confront the threat of orcs, vampires, and werewolves, it was decided that a new generation of fifteen-year-olds from all races would join the Academy to become the core of interspecies harmony.
Amidst the crowd walked a young man with gray hair, a handsome face, and violet eyes reflecting a calm brilliance. A small vertical scar rested near the corner of his mouth, barely noticeable beneath his cold features. He wore simple black cotton clothes—plain, yet neat.
He walked alone with steady steps, his eyes clear, devoid of even a hint of nervousness.
He murmured softly, his breath nearly blending with the city's noise:
"Hah… who would've thought I'd return through time to the day I was reincarnated into this world?"
This was Ares, returned by the Well of Worlds to the moment of his rebirth.
He clearly remembered waking up yesterday, believing his journey had ended—only to awaken once more in a familiar place he could never forget: the narrow room where he had first opened his eyes upon reincarnation.
In his previous life, he had been an ordinary man from the twenty-first century, working peacefully at a private company until he died from exhaustion after being forced into overtime by a cruel manager.
When he opened his eyes in this world and received a flood of memories, he realized it was a fantasy world. As a fan of anime and novels, he believed he would become the chosen hero, blessed by fate and cheats, conquering the world and winning beauties.
Reality, however, was cruel. He was born an ordinary human among commoners—no resources, no backing. He entered the Academy—the Heart—but in the regular division, not the elite. Though frustrated, his mature mindset pushed him to train relentlessly.
He lived in isolation, eccentric and bullied by a malicious noble. He believed that moment would mark the start of his heroic tale… but instead, he was beaten and humiliated, saved only by the intervention of the first person he ever called a friend.
From then on, he followed that friend's footsteps until they graduated together. He joined the army to support him, rising through battles and experiences until he became one of the Twelve Pillars before whom the continent trembled.
Yet as time passed, he witnessed the world's ugliness: noble corruption, tyrannical rulers, and the betrayal of friends. Even the friend who once saved him betrayed him—with his lover. In the end, even another comrade stabbed him in the back.
Ultimately, everyone abandoned him… even Raphael.
Memories surged through his mind like a storm.
He clenched his fist and exhaled deeply:
"This time… the game will be played by my rules."
With his past memories, he could surpass his former life and reach an even higher level—especially now that he had finally obtained a system.
"Status."
A transparent screen appeared before him:
[Name: Ares
Titles: None
Profession: Not Unlocked
Attribute: Darkness
Talent: Sword & Magic Affinity SS+ (A talent that grants exceptional mastery over both sword and magic)
Skills:
King's Eye – (Allows you to perceive all information and essence of living beings and elements)]
He smiled faintly, his eyelids trembling with excitement:
"Honestly… I'm still shocked that I possess talent in magic. In my previous life, I only knew I was gifted with the sword. As for King's Eye… it's a priceless skill."
He slowly raised his head toward the Academy's massive gates, the scents of dust, sweat, and polished leather filling his senses.
"Well then… let's begin by entering the Academy and forming a proper plan. But first… I need to obtain that item."
With calm steps, Ares moved toward the registration area, pulling his acceptance emblem from his pocket as light reflected in his violet eyes.
_____
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