He remained silent.
Sympathy is just a word. By listening, he was showing her that he understood, so she would not feel alone and would slowly begin to depend on him.
Night had fallen. Alexa stood near the door, about to leave. She held the jug; water dripped from it, making a soft tik-tik sound.
She said, "If I die tomorrow…"
She stopped. Her breathing was heavy, shoulders slightly lowered.
He did not let her finish. "…no one will remember."
She nodded slowly, as if confirming it.
He spoke softly: "Wrong."
She looked at him, eyes a little wider.
"You yourself won't remember—that is why it feels that way."
He added nothing more.
Alexa's face softened, like a sunflower turning toward light.
She left, but took time to close the door.
Self-erasure is the deepest wound.
In his mind he noted: This girl does not like me yet. But she is looking at me. That means she is starting to attach and depend on me, just a little.
A few days later, when the routine began to feel normal again, he mentioned his weakness.
"I cannot walk."
She paused, cloth in hand.
"I cannot lift a sword."
Then, after a moment: "I will not live much longer."
His hands and lips trembled. His eyes were slightly wide, eyebrows raised—he looked innocent. He turned his head to the side, toward the wall.
Alexa kept watching him. Her hands tightened, breathing quickened.
Because for her now, he had become the closest person.
She stepped closer, light footsteps, as if she wanted to do something—touch him or speak.
He saw it.
And immediately changed direction.
"Do not look at me with pity," he said.
Her shoulders dropped for a moment.
"I am not a good person," he said, voice flat.
"But when I die… let someone at least remember a useless prince like me."
He took a breath.
"You are the only friend I have… the only one I can call a friend."
The sentence was not emotional.
It was positioning.
Alexa said nothing.
She only nodded once.
That same night he made the next move.
"I want to know about this world," he said.
"I have never been able to go outside."
Alexa did not answer at once.
"There isn't just one book for that," she said,
"but there are some books about history and kingdoms. I can bring them."
The corners of his mouth lifted slightly.
"Really?"
"Thank you, Alexa."
She left, but returned quickly—two thick books in her hands, leather covers dusty.
She placed them on the table. "Here they are."
He began to read.
He sat with his back against the wall. Keeping his spine straight was hard. Every few pages, pain rose from his chest to his shoulders. Turning a page required strength in his fingers.
The body's signal was clear: Stop. Read later.
Exactly the same signal a person feels when solving math or studying—sleepiness, irritation, avoidance.
He calculated. The body had already made its decision— stop, read later.
This was not a new signal.
It came every time the mind had to make effort—in the middle of a math problem, in the middle of a book, or in the hard parts of life. Sleepiness, irritation, avoidance. Pain was only an excuse.
He thought with logic, not emotion.
Stopping was easy, but the cost of stopping built up slowly. One small break delayed planning. Delayed planning delayed action. Delayed action made the future expensive.
And if everything ended while reading— it would only mean the goal was never worth a life that could not endure it.
So the choice was simple.
Pain was temporary.
Delay could be permanent.
Risk was low.
Benefit was high.
He continued reading.
After finishing the whole book, he lay down to sleep calmly. He thought: Now I can do some planning too. While lying there he began making plans, but tiredness pulled him into sleep.
The next day he opened his eyes, then closed them again and started planning once more—because he had not been able to plan properly before.
He spoke about some things he had read.
IREN.
It looked completely simple.
Round. Shiny. Neutral.
Exactly like money in his first world.
And that very neutrality alerted him.
"Iren is not just a coin," he said. A kind of chakra flow moved within it.
He closed his eyes. The book said: Iren speeds up processes. Strengthens the body. Increases energy. Slows the approach of limits.
His lips lifted slowly. This is not currency. This is permission. Permission—to be faster, to stay alive, to move forward.
His mind went somewhere else. The one who designed this system… had made value and power the same variable.
For a moment it felt as if some very old, very familiar logic was buried in this world. Could it be… no, let it go.
He cut the thought. "Not now," he told himself. First, use it.
The second part of the book was quieter. Fewer words, more warnings.
Ashura Wine.
"Drinking this, a person will either die… or become something else. And it will only help those who have an Ashura demonic body nearby."
He did not laugh—he only understood.
People always write in extremes when they do not understand the process.
It was written: Most bodies fail. Some turn into mindless demons. Some break for no reason, their bones turning to liquid.
He closed the book. This is not poison. This is an exam. An exam that needs patience, threshold, and most of all—experience.
He had that. From ninety-nine lives.
People drink poison once. I will turn it into a process.
He looked at his weak hand. This body must be broken so it can be rebuilt. Ashura Wine was not a cure for him—it was a chisel.
The third part was the shortest.
And the most dangerous.
GLORIFICATION ENERGY.
It was written:
Almost every human has it.
Some more. Some less.
It does not depend on body or capability.
It is often an accident.
He stopped.
Body?
Different body types?
Do people in this world get born with different frameworks?
His eyes stopped on one sentence.
"The Great Writer Voldigo."
"Whose books contain the knowledge of this entire world."
He remembered the name.
That was all.
He set the book aside.
The room was quiet.
Only the sound of breathing.
He began planning. Where to start.
The board was now clear.
The pieces were visible.
I am not yet able to stand.
But that does not mean I can do nothing.
People always wait for full strength— and in that waiting, life passes.
If this body only lets me think, I will think.
If it only lets me breathe, I will use every breath.
Progress does not come from completion.
Progress comes from starting.
From his past lives he had grown used to it—there had been many limitations, so instead of breaking them he had simply found where each limit ended.
But planning had become a little easier now because he had Alexa, who would stand by him in any situation.
First he had built an emotional connection, turned her into an ally—one he could call a friend, and from whom he could ask anything.
Now he only needed to make her depend on him a little more and give her hope. Then she would do anything.
A short while later Alexa came with food. This time she even asked how he was feeling.
He said it was a little better, but he had decided something.
Alexa placed the food plate on the bed. Her ears were turned toward him—she wanted to hear what he had decided.
He said: "We have only one life, and I do not want to live it like this. At the point I am now—if I have to do anything, I am ready, no matter what people think or do."
"Alexa, don't you want that too?"
He fell silent, letting the silence build pressure on her—now whatever she said would decide whether manipulating her would be easy or hard.
Alexa took a deep breath. She was thinking: That means he wants something too.
She asked: "What can we even do?"
He understood: she was ready, but confused and lacking confidence.
So he said: "I have a plan. You must know there are four powerful kingdoms here that even the empire thinks twice before fighting—Anas Kingdom, Domu Kingdom, Nova Kingdom, and the one we are in now, Emerald Kingdom. Each kingdom has one key. Those four keys fit into the Ganchima Tower in the central area of the kingdoms—where the Ashura Wine is kept. That is all we need so I can fix myself."
Looking at him, it seemed as if he would take down those four great powers.
Alexa's eyes widened a little. She was thinking: Is this even possible?
Then he said: "After that, we will go save your brother."
Alexa remembered her brother's face. A small hope began to rise inside her.
"And I will start it," he said, "with Iren coins."
He continued: "With Iren we will open a guild in Nova Kingdom. We will add a few special, trustworthy members—ones ready to do anything. Then I will keep telling you what to do next."
Alexa asked: "Where will the Iren coins come from?"
He said: "Bring two sheets of paper."
Alexa went and returned with paper.
That was exactly what he wanted to see—he could now see hope in her, hope to live.
Now she will depend on me even more.
He said: "Write what I tell you."
When Alexa saw what he had dictated, her eyes grew wide, a little sweat appeared, and with that same reaction she gave a small smile and said: "This is truly madness—asking the king for Iren coins, haha, and 100,000 of them."