My soul was dragged into a new darkness, a new nightmare, filled with torment and unanswered questions.

I was in my own body once more, but again, I could not control it.

I was merely a prisoner.

A spectator trapped in a horrifying version of my own future.

My appearance was different this time.

I was older than ever; I looked to be 14 or 15, in that first tumultuous period of youth.

My white hair had grown longer, spilling over my shoulders.

One of my eyes was pitch-black, the other, as always, blood-red.

Complex black markings, like tattoos, spread across my right arm, starting from my fingers and reaching my shoulder.

And in the very center of my chest... Nerath's stone, which had once belonged to Fredrinn and carried the essence of darkness, was glowing.

Not just that one, but all the other ruin stones were there as well.

The stones harboring the souls of the Black Knight, Sethrak, Yve, and who knows how many other ruin lords...

They had all been gathered.

Not in Fredrinn, but united within my own body.

I more or less understood what was happening.

There could be only one logical explanation for the stones being inside me.

I didn't know how, nor did I want to know, but...

Fredrinn was dead.

We were on that snow-covered, cursed battlefield again.

But this time, our army was much smaller, consisting of only a handful of loyal soldiers.

Apparently, I had failed to gain the support of Veythral and other potential allies.

The enemy, however, possessed a much larger, more organized army than before.

This time, the enemy forces didn't just consist of the Obsidian Dawn cult and the angels; holy knights clad in golden armor, loyal to the Empire and the Holy Church, were also with them.

I didn't know what had happened, but somehow, the Empire and the Church had now openly taken a stand against the Duchy of Frosthelm.

The battle began anew.

And again, it ended with the same brutal conclusion.

We lost.

Again.

That silver-haired bastard and those other two cursed beings wearing crowns watched with cold indifference as our army and my allies were slaughtered one by one.

And in the end, it was my turn again.

Again, that helplessness, again, that defeat...

To watch, once more, from the outside, as the light of life in my eyes slowly faded...

Reality warped again, my mind shattered, and I was thrown into another dream, another failure.

In the same way, the same damned war repeated dozens of times.

Each time I had different allies, we fought different enemies, and sometimes I watched the exact same scenario from beginning to end, making the same mistakes.

But the result... the result was always the same.

They all ended with the same inevitable, brutal fate: the death of myself and everyone I cared about.

After witnessing the same nightmare, the same despair, dozens of times, I was thrown into a different dream, a different time.

I was wearing an academy uniform, unfamiliar but clearly of high quality.

Around me were students in the same uniform, fighting fiercely amongst themselves.

But their battle was far from lethal; it was clearly an exam or a tournament.

Until... I met him in the middle of the battlefield.

His golden-blond hair was meticulously tied back.

Those ice-blue, arrogant eyes were fixed directly on me.

Prince Charles the Second.

We began to fight.

But at first, it wasn't a real battle.

Aware of the curious eyes around us, we were both holding back.

Our swords clashed, and we evaded each other's attacks with elegant movements. Spells flew through the air, painting the arena with colorful lights.

After a while, the atmosphere grew tense.

This was now more than a simple sparring match.

Prince Charles's attacks had taken on a lethal edge.

His intention was to kill me.

If he killed me, no one would care; after all, who was I?

But if I killed him, I would have assassinated the heir to the Empire, and my end would still be death.

Why had I put myself in such a stupid situation in the first place? I don't understand it at all.

After a moment, Prince Charles's body glowed with a golden aura.

This was the mana of the Golden Dragon.

I, too, instinctively began to use Kaiser's flames.

But I encountered something I never expected.

My dark, destructive Chaos Flames... guttered out in the face of the Prince's pure, golden flames.

It was as if they were no longer under my control, as if they recoiled with an innate weakness to those golden flames.

I fought as hard as I could.

I was trying to defeat Prince Charles without my strongest weapon, the Chaos Flames.

I used the Void Decay, but it failed; his holy aura neutralized this dark curse.

I used my lightning, but it had no effect on him; it felt to him like nothing more than a light breeze.

But the wounds he inflicted on me... they weren't healing.

My unique regeneration ability wasn't working.

Purple, clotted blood flowed from every wound he opened. My body was growing progressively weaker.

This man... he was my perfect antithesis.

At that moment, the information I learned from William came to mind. That Dr. Aris was supporting him...

That old pervert had turned the Prince into a perfect weapon specifically against me.

Finally, as a last resort, I was forced to use the Sovereign Form.

This was extremely risky. If those crowned bastards from the cursed battlefield or their allies recognized this form, they would kill me right here, without even letting the Prince finish.

But the Cassian controlling my body didn't care.

He used the ability anyway.

My eyes turned pitch-black, and in their centers, two burning red embers appeared.

A pair of curved, obsidian-black horns sprouted from my head.

Sharp claws formed on my hands and feet.

I grew taller, my muscles swelled.

I was now at the level of a demigod.

Perhaps even stronger than ordinary demigods. I could have beaten Aron or even that silver-haired bastard in a one-on-one fight.

But Prince Charles... he just continued to look at my monstrous form with a mocking, amused gaze.

"I thought you were the best product Dr. Aris ever made," he said, his voice laced with disappointment. "He always spoke of you as his 'magnum opus,' his 'masterpiece.' Someone with potential superior to every living being that has ever existed... Someone who could even challenge the gods... But Cassian... you are a complete disappointment."

He said those words and then... he changed his own form.

He was using an ability just like my Sovereign Form, but completely different, completely opposite.

Bright, golden scales covered his body, encasing him like flawless armor.

A pair of magnificent dragon horns, looking as if they were forged from gold, sprouted from his head.

His hair grew long, turning into a golden mane that covered his shoulders.

His eyes... were no longer blue.

They were pure gold, and they looked at me with the judging, all-seeing gaze of a god.

"Now, Cassian," he said, his voice no longer that of the Prince; it was deeper, more ancient, and more powerful. "It is time to take everything you possess and return it to its true owner."

At the end of a long and brutal battle... Cassian lay on his back on the arena's cold floor, all his limbs torn off, his body covered in burns.

Blood streamed from his mouth.

Prince Charles slowly approached me.

He grabbed me by my burnt, white, blood-stained hair from the ground and lifted me into the air with one hand.

He said nothing.

His eyes spoke for him: "You lost."

He drew back his other hand.

Then, with all his strength, he thrust it right where my heart was.

And... he ripped my Dragon Heart, the source of that ancient power, from my chest.

My helpless gaze, through bloody tears, stared at my own beating heart in Prince Charles's hand.

I watched that heart in his hand until the light in my eyes slowly faded, and I breathed my last.

And I died.

I saw the same dream, the same humiliation, the same death, over and over.

Dozens of times.

Until every second, every agony, was etched into my mind.

In some scenarios, the Cassians were different, but the result was the same: my death.

Watching all these scenes helplessly from within my own body... I was on the verge of madness.

Why? Why had I died again?

Why couldn't I win in a single scene?

I was supposed to change destiny, so why did I always lose?

Before I could find answers to my questions, a new dream began.

I now possessed a more mature body; I looked to be 17 or 18 years old.

I found myself in a hellish place covered in volcanic rock, where the sun burned brighter and hotter than ever.

I was holding a huge, scaly egg that was about to crack.

My entire body was covered in deep cuts and burns, and my wounds were struggling to heal.

I was on my knees, gasping for breath.

I was clutching the egg as if my life depended on it.

I wondered why I wasn't using the Sovereign Form, but I had most likely already used it and its duration had expired.

Because in front of me stood an enormous dragon, about 15 meters tall, its body riddled with countless cuts, one wing torn off, its horns broken, driven mad with rage.

The uncontrolled electrical currents emanating from its body marked it as a Lightning Dragon.

One of the Primordial Dragons... Veviron.

Dozens of other smaller, yet still lethal, dragons surrounded me.

Somehow, I had infiltrated this fortress and slaughtered most of the dragons.

Behind me was a massive, collapsed, fortress-like mountain and a sea of blood from the dead dragons and demons covering the ground.

This was... Dragon's Peak!

I must have been on the Demon Continent.

What was I doing here?

And why was I holding this huge egg?

I couldn't understand it at first, but the familiar, warm mana radiating from the egg... it felt intensely familiar.

A few seconds later, I understood.

Kaiser... Kaiser's daughter!

Veviron roared with its last bit of strength and pierced my chest with a single claw swipe.

The egg fell from my hands and rolled across the rocks.

Its claw had passed completely through my chest.

I coughed up blood and tried to pull the claw from my pierced chest.

But I couldn't.

Veviron brought me toward its massive, tooth-filled maw.

I thrashed, trying to escape, but I could do nothing.

Then, it threw me into its mouth.

To watch from the outside, with my own eyes, my own screams and the tearing of my body between its teeth... it made me want to vomit.

I saw the same dream countless times.

My infiltration of that damned fortress, my navigation of its treacherous corridors, finding and taking the egg, and my attempt to escape... my capture every single time, and my desperate fight for my life...

Why? Why was no one with me?

Had I not made a single true ally in my entire life?

If I had lived this long, I should have defeated the Obsidian Dawn. I should have survived that damned war somehow.

So where were Fredrinn and Cecilia?

Everyone else... Rose, Eric, Hebi, Rod, Kael... where were they?

Why was I so alone?

Did they abandon me?

Did they die in the war?

Or... or did I abandon them and flee the battle?

What had happened?

There was no way I would have fled. In all those scenarios where I died, I had never once run.

WHY AM I ALONE!

That scream echoed in the darkness of the dream.

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