The copper taste of poison was still burning my throat when I opened my eyes.I wasn't lying on the cold stone floor of my treasury, bleeding out.I was standing.The blinding lights of the Grand Pavilion hit me like a physical blow. The roar of the banquet hall, the clinking glasses, and the fake laughter of the court echoed in my ears.“Drink up, brother,” a familiar, hated voice urged from my left.A heavy hand dropped onto my shoulder.It was Julian.Ten years younger. Unscarred. He was smiling warmly, waiting for me to raise the gold chalice in my hand.The wine inside smelled of sweet plums and nightshade.In my first life, I drank it. I choked on my own blood, watched my brothers seize my throne, and died hearing them laugh over my corpse.But time had just hit rewind. Ten years had vanished in a single breath.Julian’s eyes narrowed slightly at my hesitation. "Is something wrong, brother? You haven't touched your cup.""Not at all," I whispered.I looked Julian dead in the eye

I didn't hesitate.Relying entirely on the burning, artificial energy of the Crimson Elixir, I forced my legs to move. I vaulted over a shattered marble banquet table, my black cloak cutting through the rolling purple miasma. My wounded hand throbbed with white-hot pain, but I forced my fingers to lock around my hilt.The shadowed figure was already at the edge of the royal seating box. His blade was a whisper away from Princess Iris’s throat. She was only fourteen, frozen in petrified terror, her eyes wide as the assassin closed in.Not this time, Julian, I snarled internally.I threw my weight forward, tackling the assassin mid-air just as his blade began its downward arc.BOOM!We smashed into the stone floor, rolling through the debris. The assassin was agile, a trained operative. He recovered instantly, driving a vicious kick toward my ribs.I blocked it with my forearm. Even with the elixir numbing my senses, the raw force rattled my weak bones, and a sharp spray of blood erupte

The skeletal hound closed the distance in a heartbeat, its massive jaws snapping open to reveal rows of jagged, ash-stained teeth. The heat of its purple hellfire blasted against Kaelen’s face, carrying the suffocating stench of decayed flesh and centuries of buried malice.Kaelen didn't move. He didn't flinch.The raw, chaotic dark magic of the Outlands was still violently forced-marching its way through his newly opened meridians, rewriting his biology. He had no forms. He had no learned spells in this body. But he possessed a decade of visceral combat instincts, and for the first time in ten years, he finally had the fuel to back them up.As the beast lunged, its massive claws aiming to tear his torso into ribbons, Kaelen dropped his center of gravity. He ducked completely beneath the hound’s airborne chest, letting his back scrape against the creature's exposed, calcified ribs.With his unbroken left hand, Kaelen reached upward into the creature's open chest cavity, his fingers lo

The stranger remained motionless for three agonizing heartbeats, the notched executioner’s axe hovering inches above Kaelen’s collarbone. The green flame on the blade died entirely, leaving behind a thin wisp of acrid, white smoke."A bold claim for a dog with a broken spine," the raspy voice muttered behind the bone mask.With a fluid motion, the stranger flipped the heavy weapon, catching the handle near the blade, and drove the blunt pommel straight into Kaelen's temple.The world went black.Kaelen woke up to the smell of damp earth, boiling fat, and unrefined copper.He lay on a cold, rusted iron grate. When he tried to draw a breath, a sharp spike of agony flared through his ribs, confirming that his physical body was still a fragile, broken mess. He wasn't dead, but his limbs were securely pinned beneath heavy, cold-iron shackles that drained what little ambient mana his shattered core attempted to pull from the air."He's awake," a voice grunted from the shadows.Kaelen tilted

The sapphire crystal wobbled on the razor-thin lip of the volcanic chasm, its inner blue light pulsing faster and faster as it continued to broadcast data back to the main imperial lines.The wounded commander dragged his mangled leg out of the rusted iron jaws, leaving a smear of thick crimson across the grey sand. He crawled on his elbows, his fingernails clawing at the black stones, his eyes locked on the crystal. He didn't care about his life anymore; his only remaining directive was to ensure the connection stayed alive long enough to map the subterranean leylines.Kaelen descended the steep canyon wall. He didn't slide or jump like a cultivator; his body was too weak. He literally slid down the jagged shale on his side, using his unbroken left hand to steer his momentum, ignoring the sharp rocks that tore through his silk tunic and sliced his ribs.He hit the canyon floor twenty feet away from the chasm, coughing violently, the taste of ash filling his mouth."Stop... traitor...