The frontier base of Fort Iron-Thistle was a jagged scar on the edge of the Oakhaven Kingdom. Here, the grass was no longer green; it was a sickly, metallic grey, poisoned by the proximity to the Lawless Zone.
Elian leaned against the cold stone of the Sapper barracks, his chest heaving. He was twelve years old, but his hands were mapped with the scars of a man triple his age. Beside him, the "Crows" were in various states of collapse. Baraq was nursing a bruised shoulder, his wolf-ears twitching at every distant howl, while Talin sharpened a broken spade with obsessive focus. Kaelen sat in the rafters above, a silent shadow watching the high-wall where the Oakhaven Knights stood in their gleaming plate armor.
"They're late with the rations again," Talin grunted. "They treat us like dogs, then wonder why we don't dig the Aether Veins fast enough."
Elian didn't answer. He was staring at the horizon, where the sky seemed to "glitch" into shades of bruised purple. He had been in this world for months since the reincarnation, but he hadn't seen a single forest. He hadn't seen the Great Azure Sea or the floating isles of the Avians. He had seen only dirt, iron, and the terrified faces of other "Hollows."
"I died in one world just to be a slave in another," Elian thought, a bitter taste in his mouth." Is this all Caelum is?"
Suddenly, the bell atop the watchtower screamed. It didn't ring—it shattered.
"BREACH! WESTERN SECTOR!"
The air was filled with a sound like tearing parchment. Two Cliff-Shredders—Tier 2 beasts with obsidian hide and wings that cut the air like razors—had bypassed the primary ballistae. They didn't target the armored Knights. They dived for the "Soft Meat" in the slave pens.
"Get down!" Kaelen hissed, dropping from the rafters.
But it was too late. One of the beasts slammed into the barracks roof, its weight splintering the heavy timber. Dust and debris blinded Elian. He felt a sharp heat as a talon grazed his ribs, throwing him across the dirt floor.
Through the haze, he saw the Knight-Commander on the inner wall. The man looked down at the slave pens, his hand resting on the hilt of a glowing Solar-Sword. For a second, their eyes met. The Commander didn't move. He didn't order a rescue. He simply turned away, closing the iron gate to the inner sanctum.
"We aren't worth the mana for a single spell", Elian realized.
The Cliff-Shredder turned toward Elian, its beak clicking with anticipation. Baraq tried to lung forward to shield him, but the beast swatted the Beast-kin aside like a fly.
Elian backpedaled until his spine hit the cold stone wall. He looked up at the darkening sky of Caelum. A profound, crushing regret washed over him. He hadn't explored the wonders he'd heard whispered in the mines. He hadn't lived. He was going to die in the mud, sold for Ten Solars, forgotten by two worlds.
"I just wanted... to see..."
The beast lunged, its talons aimed for his throat.
Deep within his chest, something that had been dormant since his birth in this world finally snapped. It wasn't mana. It wasn't the "Will" of a beast. It was a cold, absolute Presence that made the air in the barracks freeze.
The beast froze mid-air. Not because it was afraid, but because the space it occupied suddenly felt wrong.
In the center of Elian's soul, a White Flower bloomed with a silent, deafening roar. His vision didn't just change; it ascended. The beast's flesh became transparent, its muscles becoming nothing more than vibrating strings of "Logic." At the base of its skull, a tiny, glowing silver point flickered—the fundamental flaw in its creation.
Elian's hand moved. It was slow, weak, and trembling, but it moved with the weight of an era.
[Authority Recognized: Insight]
As the silver light flooded his tear ducts, the regret vanished, replaced by a terrifying, divine clarity.