2025-07-28 21:18:55"Did you hear that?" Prince Alaric whispered, his voice low but tense. His hand gripped the hilt of his sword as he turned toward the thick wall of trees behind them.
The guard beside him raised a brow. "Hear what, Your Highness?"
"Voices..." Alaric replied. "Or maybe footsteps." He frowned. "I don’t know, Something’s wrong."
Dark clouds were rolling in quickly, covering the afternoon sun. The breeze that once carried the scent of pine now held something different, sharp, cold, and strange.
It was supposed to be a peaceful day. A royal hunting trip. A yearly tradition meant to show unity and strength. The royal family and chosen nobles had gathered to track wild boars in the King’s Forest. The palace priestess had declared the day blessed, a perfect time to seek fortune from the hunt. Not a drop of rain, she’d said.
But the sky disagreed.
Thunder cracked overhead. The wind whispered through the trees with an eerie force. The horses grew restless, stamping and whinnying. The guards formed a protective ring around the prince.
Alaric had separated from the main hunting party in pursuit of a large boar that had darted into the denser part of the woods. He’d taken five guards with him. Now only two remained.
"We need to head back," Alaric said firmly.
Before the guard could reply, an arrow whistled through the air, striking the man in the neck. He fell wordlessly.
Alaric’s eyes widened. "AMBUSH!"
The last guard spun with his blade drawn, but it was too late. Figures in red robes stepped from the trees, silent, swift. One slashed at the guard’s chest, another moved behind him. The man collapsed, without moving.
Alaric turned and ran.
His boots slipped on the rain-slick forest floor as he dodged branches and twisted roots. The trees loomed closer, the shadows deepening. Rain fell in heavy sheets, blurring his vision.
He didn’t stop.
The memory of the assassin’s blank mask, white and expressionless, burned in his mind.
He stumbled into a clearing, gasping for breath. And there it was, the edge of a cliff. A roaring river surged far below.
He turned. The assassins followed, calm and unhurried, like shadows in the storm. One raised a bow, arrow already nocked.
Alaric stepped back, his heel brushing the cliff’s edge. "Why?" he shouted. "Who sent you?"
No answer.
He dropped to his knees, his voice breaking. "Please… don’t."
The archer let the arrow fly.
It struck him in the chest.
He gasped.
And then, he fell.
The palace gates shook with urgency. Rain had reached the capital when a breathless messenger stumbled into the royal courtyard. He was soaked and trembling.
"The prince!" he cried. "There was an attack in the forest!"
The queen dropped her teacup. It shattered against the floor.
The king rose slowly, his face pale. "Get the high priestess. Now."
In the sacred chamber, the priestess knelt on a mat of lotus petals. Her robes shimmered with golden threads. Silver bells at her ankles chimed as she stood.
She walked barefoot into the royal chamber, solemn and composed. Her white hair was braided with tiny deer bones, her eyes shadowed with ash.
The king didn’t wait. "Tell me, what have the gods seen?"
She sank to her knees. "The winds have changed, Your Majesty."
"But you said it wouldn’t rain, You said today was blessed by the gods."
The priestess began to chant in an ancient tongue, used only in times of great crisis. The candle flames flickered, then went out, one by one. The room darkened. Her eyes turned milky white.
"The prince… he is gone, Your Majesty," she said in a low, chilling voice.
The queen let out a cry and collapsed.
The king stared in silence as tears welled in his eyes.
"Where is he now? Can you find his body?"
The priestess raised a trembling hand. "Beneath the cliff, at the edge of the hunting ground."
"Find him," the king ordered.
A group of royal guards was dispatched immediately.
Near the base of the cliffs, a man stirred.
His breath was ragged. Water filled his ears. His lungs burned. He sat up quickly, coughing.
His hand flew to his chest. There was no wound. No pain. Just stillness. Just a body that didn’t feel like his own.
He looked down, he wore silk embroidered with the royal crest.
"What in the world?" he murmured.
He scrambled to a nearby stream. The water reflected a face he didn’t recognize.
A young man. Refined features. Long lashes. Eyes filled with confusion.
He fell back in disbelief, breathing hard.
He remembered the pain. A drink. A kiss. Clara’s face, gentle and smiling… then the sting of betrayal.
She had poisoned him.
He had died.
Then why was he breathing?
Shouts echoed through the trees.
"My prince!"
Men in armor rushed toward him. They halted, then dropped to their knees.
"My prince… you’re alive. Thank the stars."
He blinked. "I… I’m not your prince."
The guards exchanged stunned looks.
He stood, and didn’t stumble. His body felt light. Swift. His mind, sharper than ever.
This was real.
He wasn’t Elias anymore.
He understood it quickly. Everything. Too quickly.
“Did I really wake up in someone else's body, and the prince at that? I thought this only happened in folktales,” he thought.
"We must return at once, my prince. The king will be overjoyed to see you alive."
“Maybe this is the perfect chance to get revenge on those who betrayed me,” he mused.
He nodded.
"Take me to the palace."
The palace gates creaked open.
The guards outside froze as the prince rode in, flanked by soldiers. Servants dropped baskets. Maids gasped. Nobles whispered.
A maid rushed to Lady Seraphina’s chambers, tears streaking her face.
"My lady! He’s alive! The prince lives!"
Seraphina dropped her embroidery.
"What?"
She ran. Her golden slippers echoed down the corridor. Her heart pounded wildly.
The prince had always been kind to her. Even after she was adopted, he never made her feel less.
The king sat in stunned silence.
Before him stood his son, pale, but alive.
"Alaric... my son..."
Elias stood tall, imitating royal grace. His gaze moved across the room, observant.
The queen burst into tears and embraced him.
He let her.
But his eyes were always watching.
Then Seraphina appeared.
Her breath hitched. "Brother?"
Elias turned.
Something stirred in his chest.
She was radiant, not fragile, but powerful, like sunlight after a storm.
She stepped closer. "It’s really you?"
She wrapped her arms around him. Her embrace was warm, real.
He stiffened.
"Who are you?" he asked quietly.
The room froze.
Everyone knew how close the prince had been to Seraphina. She was the last person he would forget.
Whispers filled the silence.
"Did he lose his memory?"
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The immortal sect
Elais stumbled out of the dark cave, his body weak but his eyes strangely alert. For a moment, the world looked different—every person he saw now carried a faint glowing panel above their heads.Wolf Priestess, Level 6.He blinked, unsure if he was hallucinating. But no, it was real. Every figure in his sight had a number, a level of power, floating above them. Slowly, he looked down at his palm. There, etched in glowing letters, was his own.Hybrid… Level 5.Elais swallowed hard. Despite surviving the trial, despite gaining the Hybrid System, he was still not as strong as many around him. His journey had only just begun, this was when he understood properly that being a hybrid doesn't make you the strongest as people say.Helen’s grandmother came forward. Her wrinkled face softened as she embraced him.“Congratulations, Elais,” she whispered warmly. “Come with me.”Elais nodded, looking so tired.That night, the entire village gathered under the silver moonlight. Fires burned in tall
The Wolf Realm and the Hybrid Trials
The battlefield was painted in shadow and fire. For almost an hour, steel and fang clashed against claws and the air was thick with smoke, the cries of the wounded, and the iron scent of blood.The werewolves were furred warriors with eyes like molten amberThey moved as one, a wall of muscle and moonlight. Every step shook the ground. Within minutes, the vampires’ feral confidence began to crumble. Outnumbered and suddenly on the defensive, they slipped back into the darkness, vanishing as though swallowed by the night itself.When the last of their red eyes disappeared, Elias lowered his sword, chest heaving. He turned to see who had just talked to him.Helen.She stood just a few paces away, her hair longer than he remembered, moonlight dancing across her white cloak. Her smile was warm, yet her eyes carried a story untold.“Long time,” she said softly.For a heartbeat, Elias could only stare. Then joy flooded him, breaking through every wall he had built around his heart. He strod
shadows before dawn
"What the hell happened?!" the Queen’s voice rose sharply as she entered the throne hall, her face pale with fear.A breathless guard bowed deeply before answering. "Your highness... She was rushing to see the prince when, suddenly, someone dragged her away. It was too fast, I couldn’t see the face clearly.""This must be the work of the vampires," Elias muttered, fists clenched at his sides. His tone was calm, but his eyes blazed with restrained fury. "They have already eliminated everyone in Neiihbrij village."The King stood, pacing slowly, as if the weight of the revelation pressed on his spine. "I’ve heard stories of their attacks, on the borders, in scattered villages beyond the capital. I summoned the Western battalions for reinforcement, but I didn’t think they’d infiltrate the palace itself."Elias stepped forward, his voice steady. "I need a small guard unit. We’ll pursue them. The vampires may be fast, but the sun will rise soon. They’ll need to take shelter. We can still r
Return
Elias wondered how his master kael ,the mysterious man cloaked in an aura of ancient power, had been able to recognize him so easily. The moment their eyes locked, Master Kael's chanting ceased, and the binding force pinning Elias to the cold stone ground vanished. Slowly, painfully, Elias got to his feet.His voice broke through the silence like a thunderclap. “How did you recognize me? And why… Why did you plot to end me? I served faithfully here, I bled, I fought, I survived. Is it so terrible that I chose to walk away? Why?!”Anger surged in his chest like fire licking the walls of his ribs, and it spilled from his voice with unrestrained fury.Master Kael looked at him, not with pity, not with regret, but with a knowing calm that only added fuel to Elias’s rage. The flames from the torches around them cast flickering shadows on his ancient features.“I recognized you because I was the one who put you in that body,” Master Kael said, his voice rich with conviction and secrets. "Yo
Shadows from the past
The faint crackling of fire was the first thing Seraphina heard before her eyelids fluttered open. A sharp pain throbbed at the side of her head, but it was dulled by the warmth that enveloped her body. She was lying on a mat, covered with a tattered woolen blanket that smelled of ash and pine. Her eyes drifted slowly across the room, simple, rugged, and made of timber. Thin beams of light filtered in through the wooden planks, casting lines across the earthen floor.She turned slowly, her limbs stiff and sore. She was lying on a coarse mat, and beside her was Elias. He covered half her body with a blanket.“You’re awake,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper, as though afraid to disturb the quiet peace of the morning.Seraphina blinked, still trying to adjust to the hazy golden glow. Across the hut, a little girl, no more than ten, sat silently beside the fire. Her eyes were blank, fixated on the dancing flames. Not a word passed her lips. She looked like a doll carved fr
The awakening
When Helen opened her eyes, she thought she was dead.A pale light washed over her face, gentle and warm, yet strange, and the clouds floated as though they were living, breathing things. All around her, the air hummed with magic. Lush green mountains rolled across the horizon, the trees sparkling faintly like they had dew made of starlight. A waterfall in the distance poured into a clear lake that glowed from within, casting rainbow reflections over everything.“Is this… the afterlife?” she murmured, her voice fragile against the vast silence.A strange sense of peace cloaked her. The pain she remembered, the searing wound on her side… was gone. She pressed her hand gently to her side. Nothing. No pain. Not even a scar. Only the smoothness of her skin and the thudding confusion of her heart.Then, like a flash, a vivid memory struck her like lightning , her grandmother’s face. Her eyes. Her whisper. She had seen her, right before she blacked out. But how? She was supposed to be dead.
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