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Crimson Rebirth ( GL)

Ren Khasar never imagined that death would be her ticket to a new life. After enduring years of relentless bullying and isolation, her life ends abruptly in a freak accident. Ren, once a super athletic and agile individual, finds herself in a body that is drastically different larger and rounder than she ever thought possible. Instead of the eternal darkness she expected, Ren awakens in the magical realm of Aetherium, a world she knows intimately from her favorite romance game, Crimson Destiny. In this new world of knights, magic, and political intrigue, Ren's sharp wit and fierce independence become her greatest assets as she navigates her new life in an unfamiliar form. The biggest surprise of all is the chance to meet her favorite character from the game a villainess princess with a tragic backstory. Determined to rewrite her own destiny and that of the princess, Ren dives headfirst into a world of danger and deception. With every twist and turn, she discovers that her new life is filled with opportunities for redemption, love, and the ultimate revenge against those who wronged her.

ciaracromwelle · Fantasie
Zu wenig Bewertungen
122 Chs

High school

Four days. It had been four days since I stepped foot into middle school. Four days of chaos, unexpected challenges, and Nyla's endless chattering about her vampire lineage.

Now, as I sat in this overly extravagant carriage, being whisked away to start my first day of high school at the tender age of ten, my stomach churned with dread.

This was going to be a disaster.

I mean, what were the odds that a bunch of high schoolers students older, taller, and probably meaner than me would welcome me with open arms?

They'd probably think I was some privileged little brat who got bumped up because my mommy and daddy pulled strings. Which, to be fair, isn't entirely untrue…

And what if they were right? What if I couldn't keep up? Sure, I had raw magic power, but power didn't always mean control. Just thinking of it make me shiver.

And these weren't kids wielding beginner spells they'd have techniques and strategies honed over years. What if I was in over my head?

"Ren, are you even listening to me?" my mother's voice snapped me out of my spiraling thoughts.

"Huh? What?" I blinked, turning to face her. She was seated across from me, elegantly poised as always, her sharp eyes scanning me with a mix of exasperation and amusement.

"I said," she repeated, "if you finish school by eighteen, you'll have all the time in the world to do whatever you want. Isn't that exciting?"

"Yeah," I muttered, not entirely convinced. "Super exciting."

She arched an eyebrow. "Don't be so dramatic, Ren. High school will be a wonderful opportunity for you to grow and prove yourself. Besides," she added with a sly smile, "you'll be able to learn things that even Elira hasn't taught you yet."

I crossed my arms, leaning back against the plush seat. "Elira already taught me how to beat a knight-mage. What else could they possibly teach me?"

"Discipline," my mother said curtly, fixing me with a look that dared me to argue. I didn't.

When the carriage finally rolled to a stop, I leaned toward the window, eager for my first glimpse of the school. My initial reaction was... mixed.

The building itself was massive, with sprawling stone walls adorned with banners bearing the school's crest a silver dragon encircling a blazing sun. It must be a dragon who made this.

The name Draconis High Academy was etched in bold letters above the towering iron gates. It was imposing, almost castle-like, and a far cry from the cozy, ivy-covered middle school I'd left behind.

The courtyard was bustling with activity. Students milled about in clusters, some laughing and chatting, others exuding an air of aloof superiority.

A few sat perched on low stone walls, textbooks forgotten as they exchanged what looked suspiciously like cigarettes. Well it was high school it was a change.

Before I could get a better look, my mother's hand darted out, blocking my view. "Don't stare," she said, her tone firm. "Focus on the positives."

"Like what?" I asked, leaning back with a sigh.

"Like the fact that you're going to one of the best schools in the kingdom," she said. "And that you'll have a chance to make an impression on some very important people."

Yeah, because making an impression on a bunch of high schoolers is exactly what I want, I thought bitterly. Please I want to not be bullied for being a child well maybe they won't because I'm a child.

As we stepped out of the carriage, a tall man approached us. He was dressed impeccably in a deep blue robe embroidered with silver runes, his graying hair slicked back into a tight ponytail. His sharp, calculating gaze immediately set me on edge.

"Lady Khasar," he greeted my mother with a slight bow. "And this must be Ren."

"Headmaster Alric," my mother said warmly, returning his bow. "Thank you for accommodating us on such short notice."

"It was no trouble," he replied smoothly, though the tightness around his eyes suggested otherwise. He turned his attention to me, studying me with an intensity that made me want to squirm. "So, you're the prodigy everyone's been whispering about."

"Um, I guess?" I said awkwardly, shoving my hands into my pockets.

His lips twitched into something resembling a smile. "You'll find that our students are... less impressed by rank than you might expect. You'll have to earn their respect through action, not reputation."

"Great," I muttered under my breath.

My mother shot me a warning look before turning back to Alric. "I trust you'll ensure she's placed in a class that challenges her appropriately?"

"Of course," he said, gesturing for us to follow him. "I've already arranged for her to join Class 3-A. It's one of our more advanced groups."

As we walked through the gates, I couldn't help but notice the stark difference between this school and my old one this was a level above.

The air felt heavier, charged with an energy that made my skin prickle. The students here moved with purpose, their conversations laced with words like "duels," "enchantments," and "tournaments."

The main building loomed ahead, its arched entrance flanked by stone gargoyles that seemed to watch our every move. Inside, the hallways were lined with polished wooden panels and enchanted lanterns that glowed softly, casting warm light on the bustling crowd of students.

"This place is intense," I muttered to myself, feeling a pang of nervousness.

We stopped outside a door marked Class 3-A. The headmaster turned to me, his expression unreadable. "This will be your class. Your teacher, Miss Faelith, is one of our best. She's strict, but fair."

"Great," I said, trying to muster some enthusiasm.

"Remember," he added, lowering his voice, "you're here because you've proven yourself capable. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise."

I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat. This was it—the moment of truth. Taking a deep breath, I reached for the door handle, my heart pounding like a drum.