written by: Loki
"Ouch—my head… what is this foul stench? Are they mocking me now because of my age?!"
I slowly opened my eyes, only to see countless footsteps passing me by—ignoring me, treating me like some worthless insect unworthy of attention.
"Me? Emperor Lucian Arcturus Drevahn? Since when did I become so insignificant that not a single soul dares show me respect?!"
I reached instinctively for my sword, but then froze. Something was strange about my body.
"What…? A skeleton?" My eyes widened as I stared at my hand. "No, this isn't bone—it's the hand of a starved child. WHAT?!! A child's hands?!" I screamed inwardly.
Confused and shaken, I crawled toward a small puddle of spilled water. Forcing this weak body forward, I finally glimpsed my reflection.
"Huh… this is me, at age ten?!"
My gaze drifted around this bustling place. Strange garments I had never seen before, an unfamiliar tongue echoing in the air—and most peculiar of all, every person bore hair as black as ink.
Back in the Empire, black-haired children were condemned as harbingers of misfortune, either slain at birth or cast into the wilderness. Now, here, they were the majority.
I couldn't help but laugh bitterly. "To think there are still things in this world capable of surprising me. Hah… when was the last time I even laughed? Ah… yes, back when my parents still lived."
My fleeting reminiscence shattered as a massive, broad-shouldered man suddenly kicked me.
"Guh—!" I nearly vomited blood.
"Tch! Damn brat. Pests like you are everywhere. Go crawl somewhere else—you're bad luck for business!" He spat on me before turning away.
Dazed, I lay still. Strangely enough, I understood every word he said.
"Did he… just kick me? Spit on me? Me?" Instead of anger, a manic laugh spilled from my lips.
"Heh… since when have I become this laughable?"
The man stopped, his face twisting.
"What? Do you have a death wish?!"
His fist swung toward me. But to my eyes, it moved unbearably slow. I willed my body to dodge, but this frail frame betrayed me.
"Guh—!" Blood spewed from my mouth as pain seared through me, harsher than anything I had ever endured.
The brute lifted me and hurled me to the roadside like trash.
"Tsk! Just die already," he snarled before leaving.
Flat on my back, I gazed at the endless sky. Never had it looked so breathtaking.
Alone in the alley, laughter bubbled out of me once more—wild, unrestrained. Me, the Emperor feared by all nations, tossed aside like a beggar. And yet, there was no fury in me. No rage. Only… amusement.
This was no longer my world. I knew it in my very bones. I had walked every land by the time I was fifteen, dueling masters until none could best me. At seventeen, I had returned to hear of my parents' deaths. And yet, this land—this place—was utterly unknown to me.
"What a strange, amusing world… HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"
My laughter echoed through the alleyway.
"I must first learn the ways of this world. I, Emperor Lucian Arcturus Drevahn, refuse to believe there is anything I cannot conquer!"