The world had grown darker than night.
A day and a half had passed. Maybe more. I'd lost count somewhere between the jolts of the wheel and the ache in my ribs. The cart had stopped, its wheels sinking into soft, mossy ground. Outside, voices cackled, metal clanged, and fires crackled into the air. A camp—but barely one. Loose stones. Foul jokes. The stink of sweat, ale, and something unwashed.
We'd halted in a region of low-tier star beasts. I could hear them—sharp cries echoing from the woods like restless ghosts. The kidnappers weren't afraid. If anything, the lack of danger made them louder. Drunker. Meaner.
I pressed my back to the cart's wall, forcing my breath to slow.
The tarp beneath me stank—mildew and blood, soaked deep into the slats. My wrists throbbed. My ribs screamed with every jolt.
[Gold Balance: 1,500] [Next Gold Grant: +1,000 at Sunrise]
"System," I murmured, "is there any way out of this? Or am I just going to die before my story even starts?"
[You are not scheduled to die. But emotional instability increases probability.]
[Protector Available at Discount]
[Protector Summon (90% Discount): 2,500 G] [Name: Ashar Volkhain]
[Class: Body Cultivator]
[Combat Level: 30 (Suppressed)]
[Loyalty: Absolute. Personality: Bound, autonomous.]
[Origin: Millennia-aged relic.]
[Title: The Immortal Eclipse.]
[A being forged in an age of war and dust.]
[Endure. Do not provoke them. Let the night pass.]
But I needed to survive till dawn to call him. They weren't taking me to kill—not yet. They were delivering me to the duchess.
I just hoped we didn't reach her before the morning.
I exhaled.
---
The cart door creaked open.
Torchlight spilled in—yellow, grainy, too bright. A silhouette filled the frame. Tall. Broad. Grease-matted hair and a loose tunic. The smell of ale hit first, followed by something darker—resentment wrapped in sweat.
Marrek.
He stepped in, boots thudding.
"Well, look who's breathing," he said, crouching beside me. "The corpse prince."
I didn't reply.
He smirked. "Thought you'd have more to say. All those noble bloodlines, but you die like the rest of us."
He leaned close. His thumb pressed into my side—right where the bruising bloomed.
I flinched. Not from pain. From what I saw in his eyes.
It wasn't just cruelty.
It was history.
"Y'know," Marrek murmured, "I was a stable boy once. My lord's son kicked me because I dropped his damn comb. His comb. Broke two of my ribs. You think I forgot that?"
Another jab.
I choked.
[Warning: Bruised ribs. Damage moderate. Internal bleeding: Negative.]
"You're all the same," Marrek hissed. "Climb out of the womb thinking the world owes you a throne. I earned every scar on my back, and now—now I get to look down on you."
His breath was hot with bile and venom. I didn't speak.
Because… he wasn't wrong.
I had arrived with dreams bigger than this world. Power. Glory. Dragon armies. Cities in the clouds. I had assumed I was owed greatness.
Instead, I was tied up in a rotting cart, listening to the laughter of killers.
But before Marrek could strike again, a voice cut through:
"Enough."
He froze.
A second figure filled the door. Tall. Cold. Quiet authority radiated from him.
Kord.
Level 29. Not yet an Advanced cultivator—but on the edge of evolution.
He didn't shout. Just stared.
"Touch him again," Kord said, "and I'll break your jaw sideways."
Marrek stepped back. Sneered. "Fine. Keep your little relic. He ain't worth the blood."
Then he spat near me and climbed out.
Kord lingered. His eyes locked with mine. No sympathy. Just calculation.
Then he vanished too.
---
Silence returned.
Outside, the camp burned low. Moans and screams came in waves. Somewhere, a woman wept. Somewhere else, a man was laughing while sharpening something.
Inside, I curled around my pain.
And I remembered.
Back in my world, I had wanted so many things.
To become someone. To be seen.
I wanted to write. To speak. To lead. To build something lasting. To hold someone who chose me.
I had wanted to matter.
And here I was. Mattered enough to be hunted. Feared. Bound.
Or maybe it was just the body I now wore.
"System," I whispered, voice raw. "Was I just… wrong about everything?"
[You lacked complete data. You assumed advantage would equate to immunity. That is incorrect. But not unrecoverable.]
I almost smiled.
"Comforting as always."
[I am not built for comfort. I am built to help you survive. To adapt. To conquer—if you choose to continue.]
Silence stretched.
Then:
[You are not weak. You simply haven't stood up yet.]
That made something crack inside me.
The fire outside popped. The beasts howled again. And far above, the sky began to shift—slow, violet hints of false dawn.
I wiped my mouth against my sleeve and sat up straighter, despite the pain.
"Six hours, huh?" I muttered.
[Five hours, fifty-six minutes. Countdown to: Summon Ashar Volkhain—The Immortal Eclipse. Level 30. Personality: Independent. Loyalty: Lifebound. Upgradable through sustained investment.]
I closed my eyes. Saw a flash of the locked summon panel. A massive shadow etched in ash and war. Crimson runes carved into armor. A blade taller than rooftops.
Someone ancient. Dead to time. But not forgotten.
My protector.
Soon.
I leaned back, ignored the ache, and whispered: "Just a little longer."
[Correct. Dawn comes. And with it—power.]
---
[Balance Updated: +1,000 Gold]
[Protector Summon Available]
The system's voice rang out like a war drum at dawn.
Ethan's eyes snapped open.
He hadn't realized when they'd closed—sometime in the shivering dark, after Marrek's fists, after the silence had grown too heavy to hold.
But now—
Now his heart thundered.
He sat up sharply, gasping through bruised ribs and stiff limbs.
This was it.
His fingers trembled as they hovered over the invisible interface.
The moment he'd been counting down to.
One chance.
If it failed? He'd die before sunrise. Kord would hand him over. The duchess—this "Lady Eldwright"—would gut him like a pig.
But if it worked?
He laughed.
Short, broken, and a little mad.
"If it works…"
He didn't finish the sentence.
He didn't need to.
---
[END OF CHAPTER]
---