Chapter 2: | Passage of Time
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Warm, viscous fluid enveloped my form.
I was in my very first life of the endless cycles I would experience, a voluntary puppet in the grand design of reincarnations, for the Supreme Heavenly Dao had already begun its tireless hunt for my sealed authorities.
A rush of cool, fresh air filled my nascent lungs as my head, surprisingly large, exited the confines of my mother's womb in this new existence.
An excited voice, thick with masculinity and relief, boomed.
"Dear, look at our lovely child!"
The woman, my mother for this fleeting life, giggled weakly, a sound that quickly dissolved into a hacking cough.
Her body, which was frail from the ordeal of birth, trembled.
The man, my father, his voice laced with concern, turned to someone else.
"Miss Celine."
He pleaded.
"Could you please take care of my child?"
Celine, a beautiful maid with a gentle demeanor, received me.
She meticulously wiped the remnants of blood and mucus from my small body before carefully laying me in a soft cradle.
"Mistress."
Celine whispered, her voice laced with curiosity, as unease could be seen on her face.
"Don't you find the young master… weird?"
My mother, her eyes still heavy from the intense labor, were filled with a profound tenderness, gazed at me.
A gentle smile touched her lips as she softly murmured.
"Nothing is weird, Celine. The boy simply takes after his father, after all. Can't you see from his appearance alone that he looks like a descendant of the Pendragon line?"
Celine creased her chin as she pondered, then a smile bloomed on her face as her early worries vanished, then she attended to her mistress with the utmost care.
"You're right about that, Mistress. It's just quite peculiar that the young master didn't cry at birth."
Just like that, time flowed, like a river carrying me forward.
A decade passed, and I became a prodigy of magic, my innate understanding of the arcane far surpassing my peers.
Another decade slipped by, and I had already reached the 8th circle.
But before I could even contemplate whether to advance to the next circle, the castle was thrown into turmoil, as the royal army, clad in resplendent, incandescent mithril armor, appeared on our estate.
The prince, Alexander, my sworn brother, gazed at me with his hands trembling from guilt.
He flung a bloodied sack toward me.
With a sickening thud, the sack crashed onto the polished stone floor.
Severed heads tumbled out, rolling across the tiles.
I clenched my teeth, a strange, dark amusement coiling in my gut.
I forced down the burst of laughter that threatened to escape from my mouth.
The parents who had raised me in this life, their kind faces now laid bare on the ground, with an eerie, serene expression visible on their faces, as they were dead.
Hot, blinding tears welled in my eyes, tears as I forced it into existence, mimicking the grief I knew I should feel in this moment, as I dropped to my knees, shouting.
"Why! Just why, Your Highness Alexander, did you kill them? What sins have we, the Pendragon family, committed to deserve this?"
Alexander merely chuckled, a cold, hollow sound.
He unsheathed his sword, its polished tip gleaming, and pointed it directly at my chest.
"Why, you may ask, Kael D. Pendragon?"
Alexander circled me, amusement visible on his face, like a predator toying with its prey.
He tapped my shoulder, his voice dropping to a low, conspiratorial whisper.
"Well, it's because of your household's alarming growth, you see."
He leaned in closer.
"Kael, you know, don't you? That the growth of the Pendragon line would inevitably outshine the royal family? So forgive this sworn brother of yours for his treachery, you servant of the devil!"
A genuine smile tugged at my lips.
So this was it, my sworn brother, the Crown Prince himself, come to brand me a dark magician.
Very well.
Let me show them what true terror is.
Slowly and deliberately, I rose to my feet.
I flicked my wrist, and the heads of my father and mother from this life hovered eerily in the air behind me.
A shimmering light shimmered into existence as a pulse of raw mana erupted around me, deflecting all the knights' synchronized attacks.
Alexander roared.
"Bring out the scroll, fools! Let the last surviving Pendragon feel despair from their ancestral scroll!"
A perfectly feigned shock contorted across my face as I pointed a trembling finger at the parchment in his hand.
"It can't be! Hey, Alexander, you can't be thinking of using that, can you!"
Alexander's golden eyes gleamed with anticipation.
He chuckled, a sound of pure malice, then ripped the ancient parchment apart with a vicious tearing sound before shouting with gleeful abandon.
"Yes, I'm using it right now, Kael! Let the treasure of your household kill you!"
A miniature sun, radiating pure darkness, pulsed malevolently on his palm.
He whispered something to it, a secret incantation, and it began to fly towards me, an orb of annihilation.
But I only chuckled, a deeper, more genuine sound this time, at his futile attempt.
I flicked my hand, and before the miniature sun could reach me, I simply vanished.
Years passed since that pivotal event.
Now, I had become the Demon King of this world, the bringer of destruction.
And I quite liked this role in this particular life.
From what I had heard, 'heroes' from another world had been summoned by the order of the gods.
Alexander, consumed by his ambition, had killed and sacrificed those very heroes to gain their power.
And now, Alexander, his form radiating an unknown, terrifying power, appeared before me.
A pulsating hollow of pure darkness hovered above his head, mirroring the miniature sun he had once wielded.
"Alexander, my dear brother from a different mother."
I said, my voice soft, almost sympathetic.
"Tell me, why did you do that?"
Alexander chuckled, a broken, bitter sound, as he sank to the ground.
Bitterness could be seen in his eyes as he trembled with pain.
"Kael, my brother… it was the gods instigating your demise. They… they promised the prosperity of the kingdom if I got rid of you. So sorry."
I walked towards Alexander, my gaze filled with a carefully constructed pity.
I had already known from the very beginning what would unfold in this life.
I spread my arms wide, offering myself to him, a faint, contented smile appeared on my face.
This elaborate role-play was finally coming to an end.
"Finish me, my beloved brother. I, your older brother, no, the Demon King Kael, shall die at your hands after an intense battle. Tell the world of your heroic deed, of my sins. For we are nothing but playthings of the heavens!"
Alexander clenched his teeth until it bleed, as tears, his actual tears, welled in his eyes, and he cried openly.
But then, with a sob, he gripped his blade, and with a single, agonizing thrust, he put an end to me.
"Sorry, sorry, sorry."
He sobbed, his voice raw with grief.
"Please forgive me for my sins, for my incompetence that led us to this. I, Alexander, will follow you after all of this is done, so please wait."
I cupped his face gently, my cold fingers tracing the tears streaming down his cheeks.
Leaning into his shoulder, I whispered.
"It's okay. As your older brother, I wouldn't want you, an incompetent fool, to follow me to hell. So please marry someone, have a family, and lead the kingdom. And please do me a favor, revive the Pendragon dukedom for the sake of my parents. And forgive this brother of youuuuuu…"
Before I could finish it, darkness, a comfortable, familiar blanket, claimed me.
I was now on my way to my next cycle.
Perhaps the wait of a billion years until the fated day would truly feel like a breeze if life continued like this.
Alexander silently wept, his body wracked with tremors, as he acknowledged his older brother's last command.
He then cut off Kael's head, displaying it in front of the kingdom to proclaim the death of the demon lord, a hero's necessary cruelty.
Just like that, years passed.
Alexander, true to his brother's dying wish, married, had children, and ruled the kingdom with wisdom and a heavy heart.
After seven decades, he finally died, filled with a profound regret, as the kingdom mourned the passing of their beloved hero.
---
That was my first life, the very life that I liked the most because of Alexander's nature, his capacity to be cruel to himself for the sake of others.
He was a genuine hero, and I admired him for upholding his duty as a king and as a hero, even though the blood of the innocent stained his hands.
But now, let me explain my goal and why I decided to die voluntarily from their schemes and dance to their tune.
Why did I allow them to kill me when I could have resisted, turned the tables, and obliterated them all?
It was such a nonsensical act, right?
And if this life were a story, a novel that I enjoyed reading throughout my cycles, it would be riddled with plot holes.
Why would I, a great being capable of devouring an entire multiverse, give up so easily, just for the chance to ascend to Ascendance after merely taking a glimpse of it?
Am I not a villain, one who would do anything to achieve his goals, a grand villain without any morality?
So why did I die?
Well, it was because I needed to achieve the title of Emperorhood, the hardest title to obtain in existence.
Why couldn't I obtain it in the past, when I could devour anything?
It was because of the restrictions of the Dimension itself, not the restrictions of the Supreme Mother, nor the restrictions of the Supreme Heavenly Dao, but the inherent laws of the dimension.
The dimension simply wouldn't recognize my race, the race of my sister and me, as a true race.
For there existed only two people, a pair with no ability to reproduce.
An emperor couldn't rise from a race of two, nor a race that couldn't reproduce, nor a race that wasn't a true race, since our very existence was, after all, false.
We are named Records, for our existence is false.
We are born not of souls, but of records.
We don't possess true souls, yet we ultimately exist, having created a false soul for ourselves.
The requirements of Ascendance necessitated that I become a true being, a being with a soul, holding the title of an Emperor, and possessing the very power that created this dimension.
Only in obtaining these conditions would I learn the other, hidden requirements to become an Ascendance itself.
That's why my sister and I, brother and sister, have tirelessly searched for a method for me to become Ascendance.
For that was my goal and my sister's goal, is simply, the complete control of the multiverse, she desires to become the absolute center of all.
But ironically, this intricate plan would take far too long to commence, and was far too dangerous to walk, especially now that I had been reduced to a mere fraction of my former power.
Yet, Ascendance was not my only goal.
I, too, desired to live like the others and genuinely experience the memories I had witnessed from the countless beings I devoured.
I wanted to live how they lived, to experience their time as a mortal.
I wanted to live, to be loved, have parents, and genuinely feel the sensation of being alive, because I hadn't had the privilege or time to live like any others.
So perhaps this was an opportunity for me to experience all of it.
---
Warm fluid, slick and encompassing, wrapped around my form as the next cycle began.
Then, the distinct sound of a cool breeze whispered past as I exited my mother's vagina once more.
The rhythmic clatter of a carriage traveling could be heard outside.
A man draped in silks as rare as dragonhide gazed at me with quiet affection, while a woman of breathtaking beauty drew me into a tender embrace.
She then revealed her breast, and I instinctively latched on, seeking sustenance.
'How intriguing.'
I thought my eyes flickered with curiosity.
'The theme for this life seems to be the son of a merchant, or perhaps… a syndicate leader. How intriguing indeed.'
Suddenly, sharp shouts echoed from outside.
Arrows sliced through the carriage walls, their sharp flight followed by the groan of splintering wood.
Something, some unseen menace, was relentlessly chasing us.
My father's voice, strained, and desperate, cut through the chaos.
"Sylvia! Use the teleportation scroll and escape from here! You and my child are the hope of our guild! Go!"
Sylvia, my mother in this life, nodded grimly.
She tore a parchment, a teleportation scroll, and her body, along with mine, vanished from the confines of the carriage.
The last scene I witnessed was an arrow impaling my father's neck, his eyes wide with a final, desperate resolve.
---
Sylvia's rushed footsteps pounded on the cobblestone street as she ran, from a burly man hot on her heels, with his heavy boots thudding behind us.
"Come here, you bitch!"
The man chasing us roared, his voice thick with vulgarity.
My mother, Sylvia, shouted back, her voice laced with disgust.
"Damned buffoon! Leave me alone! Your face alone would make me puke thinking of your tiny dick entering me!"
I inwardly gasped at Sylvia's raw, unladylike cursing.
The man chasing us, however, only shouted with renewed fervor.
"Then I'll let you taste it, damned bitch!"
Houses across the narrow streets began to light up, as figures moved within.
Suddenly, guards clad in gleaming armor rushed toward us from an alley.
Sylvia immediately seized the opportunity, shouting with a desperation that was almost convincing.
"Please help me! This bastard has been chasing me for hours! Please save us!"
The guards roared back, brandishing their swords and pointing them menacingly at the chasing man.
One of them shouted.
"You damned troublemaker! Harassing another lady again!"
The man snarled with fury.
"You damned meddlesome scum! Why are you interrupting me again and again!"
He pulled his own sword, but before he could even swing it, a female knight, clad in light, practical armor, easily subdued him.
She smacked the man's head repeatedly with the hilt of her sword until blood got on her beautiful face.
"Damned pig!"
She growled, her voice a low snarl.
"How dare you harass another one this week when I've already warned you!"
And just like that, Sylvia, with the help of the city guards, settled into this new city.
She found work as a server in a bustling pub.
Years passed in a quiet blur, and I had now grown into an adult in this peaceful life.
"Mother, please rest for today."
I insisted, a genuine warmth in my voice.
"Let this handsome son of yours handle all the work."
But Sylvia shook her head, a familiar stubbornness could be seen in her eyes.
She tapped my shoulder, her touch light, before standing up.
Her gaze fell to her calloused hands, hands that were once soft two decades ago.
"No, let this useless mother of yours work, you cheeky brat."
She retorted, a fond smile playing on her lips.
But I insisted that she needed to rest for the day.
Because it was finally time for me to receive my monthly stipend as a city guard.
Then months turned into years, years into decades.
I was now in my mid-twenties, having been promoted to a city guard captain, leading a watch of twenty.
In my later years, I found myself a wife, a kind, practical woman.
My mother had died peacefully a few decades prior, her last breath a contented sigh.
Now, I was living comfortably, a respected old man in the city.
"This life was quite satisfactory, if you ask me."
I mused internally, a faint, melancholic echoed in my non-existent soul.
"It was peaceful, unlike any other. But like any other, I would die from someone close to me."
Footsteps, heavy and deliberate, could be heard approaching.
My old friend, the Lord of the City, appeared on my doorstep, flanked by hundreds of armed men.
He pointed at me, his face contorted in righteous fury, forgetting the bonds that we made for decades, as he shouted.
"Cillian! You have been found guilty of delving into dark magic! We, the people of Torit, have come to execute the traitors of humanity!"
He coughed, clearing his throat dramatically, then continued.
"Guards! Capture the betrayer and his entire family right now!"
The guards bowed in unison, their voices thundering.
"As you command, my lord!"
And with that quiet betrayal, another cycle closed.
Not with a dramatic betrayal, but with the quiet accusation of being a traitor of humankind, along with the family that I've built.
---
Despite that, even after billions of cycles, after trying so hard, I could not feel the emotions I desperately sought.
It was failure after failure.
Even now, I had failed once more in my endeavor to obtain genuine emotion.