Ador Raukings opened his eyes to a dim, unfamiliar room. Darkness surrounded him, thick and suffocating, like a blanket he could not lift.
"Where… am I?" he whispered, staring down at his hands. They were small, delicate… impossibly childlike. His throat tightened. No… this can't be happening. Shock, disbelief, and a flicker of fear surged through him. He had been reincarnated as a child.
Before he could gather his thoughts, a black-cloaked figure appeared beside him, gently taking his arm. On the surface, she radiated calm, almost holy energy, like a nun. But beneath that, Ador sensed a void — a darkness so profound it made his skin crawl. He froze, studying her silently, trying to understand who she might be.
A shaft of light cut through the shadows, illuminating the room. Slowly, he blinked, taking in the surroundings. He was in an orphanage. The air smelled faintly of incense and dust, and morning sunlight spilled through cracks in the wooden walls.
Ador didn't panic — at least, he told himself he didn't. Every sound, every shadow, every faint presence of others registered in his mind. He analyzed, calculated, adapted.
This world… it pulses with energy, he thought. Fragments of a past life whispered at the edge of his mind — blazing skies, divine halls, power beyond mortal comprehension.
A shiver ran down his spine, but he swallowed it. He was no ordinary child. To survive, he had to act as one: careful, measured, patient.
The black-cloaked figure led him through narrow corridors. Her steps were light, almost floating, yet each movement carried authority.
Ador's eyes darted constantly, noting details — the placement of windows, the lingering scent of herbs, the faint hum of energy threading through the walls. This place… is more than it seems.
She stopped before a small wooden door. When she turned, her eyes met his — cold, distant, calculating, yet carrying a faint divine glow.
"You are awake," she said softly, voice steady, heavy with unspoken weight. "You may not understand now… but your past life was not ordinary. You carry a power the world of Gracia has long forgotten."
Ador tilted his head slightly, hiding the unease curling in his chest. How does she know? Memories were fragmented, hazy — yet deep inside, he knew he was different. I will follow… for now. But I will not reveal everything. Not yet.
A faint, dark smile touched her lips. "Wondering how I know? You are not the only one reincarnated. Everyone here carries echoes of their previous selves. Your past shapes your power… and how the world will remember you."
Ador's mind stuttered for a moment. Shock, curiosity, and a flicker of fear collided inside him.
He sensed subtle shifts in her energy — sparks of something ancient, waiting to awaken. His pulse quickened, though he forced his face to remain calm.
"Why me?" he asked quietly, voice steady, probing.
Her lips curved slightly. "What a naïve question. This orphanage is run by the Azure Sect… and you, Ador Raukings, are needed here."
His mind spun. Allies, enemies, threats… possibilities stretching in every direction. Even here… I will rise. Carefully. Step by step, deliberately… as I always do.
She opened the door, and light spilled across the corridor. Beyond it lay a world he had never seen — one of magic, martial arts, and cultivation, waiting for him.
The hall beyond was bathed in sunlight. Children of all ages moved about — laughing, cleaning, practicing, or running errands. Energy shimmered faintly around them, brushing against him like whispers of untapped power.
Ador's gaze swept the room. Patterns on the floor, sunlight hitting the beams, the subtle aura shifts from each child… most of them were strong. Their pasts must have been abnormal, he realized. Everything has value. Observe. Adapt.
He stumbled near a stack of wooden blocks. Instinctively, he lifted a small hand. A faint ripple of energy passed through his fingers, and the blocks floated gently back into place. Not enough to impress — but enough to test himself.
The black-cloaked figure observed silently. Good, he thought. She watches, but does not interfere. Let her think I'm still a child… naive, weak. Advantageous.
Energy thrummed within him, a quiet reminder of the past life he barely remembered. Traces of divine power, raw cultivation essence, pulsed faintly beneath his skin. A subtle smirk touched his lips.
Suddenly, the hall darkened. Shadows twisted unnaturally, the air thickened, and the world around him seemed… wrong. Illusion? Warning?
A chill ran down his spine as he felt eyes on him. Then, a voice — cold, distant, terrifying — echoed through the darkness:
"Ador Raukings… you are not worthy of seeing the past yet. If you wish to know the truth, become strong enough to surpass even the immortal deities."
A force slammed into him, knocking him backward. Blinding, fleeting fragments of memory flashed before his eyes — gone before he could grasp them. I… know nothing.
This world was vast, full of rules, rivals, and hidden opportunities. But every step forward was his to control. Carefully. Deliberately.
He turned his gaze toward the distant door. Beyond it lay the gardens, the Azure Sect training grounds, and a world alive with magic, martial arts, and otherworldly power. I will dominate everything.
All the other children were engaged in their own pursuits — some cultivating, some sparring in various martial arts, others sensing the intangible particles of mana in the air. Ador observed quietly, his eyes narrowing as he compared their skills. Most of them are already strong… some frighteningly so.
But his astonishment was brief. Suddenly, a bulky figure entered the hall. He wore elegant dark clothing embroidered with silver thread, and the aura around him radiated authority and danger. Every child instinctively fell silent; chills ran down their spines.
The man's eyes swept the hall, and with a commanding voice, he set strict lines for all the children. "You will be monitored. Your powers will be tested. Progress will be measured."
Ador noted the subtle tension — a child with two powers, one with an unusual aura… this man was measuring more than raw strength. Normally, one could carry only a single power. But geniuses of the past, those remembered in history as prodigies, could carry multiple powers. They advanced slower, but their impact was undeniable.
After delivering his decree, the man left. The children were herded to the holy cathedral, a massive structure at the heart of the orphanage, where their futures would be assessed. Some whispered nervously, others held their heads high.
Ador walked among them silently, observing, calculating. This is how the game begins. Each move counts. Observe, adapt… and strike when the moment is right.
He glanced at the children again — some practicing elemental manipulation, others refining martial techniques, a few blending the two seamlessly. Even at this young age, the difference in potential is staggering…
Ador flexed his small fingers, feeling the hum of latent power inside him. His past life's fragments surged faintly, reminding him of the divine strength he once wielded. I may be small, I may be a child… but I am not powerless. Not even close.
As they entered the cathedral, he caught a glimpse of the massive stained glass window above the altar, depicting ancient warriors and gods. This… this is where destinies will be forged. And mine will be the brightest.
The game had begun — and Ador Raukings intended to win, no matter the cost.