Chapter 3 Rewind Time

Rohan's eyes shot open, his chest heaving as he gasped for breath. There was an acidic pain at the back of his throat, perhaps this is what Azure felt?

Beads of cold sweat clung to his furrowed brow. The dream—or what he had believed to be a dream—had been too vivid, too haunting. His heart pounded in his chest, echoing in the dimly lit basement he now found himself in.

The acidic sear in his throat lingered, Rohan's trembling hands searched his body frantically, seeking the fatal wound that had ended his life. But there was nothing. No wound, no blood, only the frantic beating of his heart echoing in his chest.

I'm... Alive?

He blinked, his vision adjusting to the dimness of the room. The familiar surroundings came into focus—the musty scent of discarded books, the damp stone walls that had been their shelter for as long as he could remember. The same basement he and his mother had called home, hidden away from the scornful eyes of the nobility above.

A shiver coursed through him, not from the chill in the air, but from the realization that something unexplainable happened. He was no longer the powerful mage, the Last Dragon Mage, who had faced down the Demon Lord. Instead, he was a mere thirteen-year-old child, living in the prime of his mother's hell.

Rohan sat up slowly, his thoughts a tumultuous whirlwind. He reached out to touch the walls of the basement, as if confirming that he was truly here, in this place, in this time. His fiery red hair, once a symbol of his hidden noble blood, now hung unkempt and disheveled. One could even mistake it for a dull brown color with how musty and gross it is.

"No," he whispered, his voice barely more than a hoarse breath. "It can't be."

He remembered the sensation of death, the feeling of his own life slipping away, the blade of Prince Lionel. But now, none of it made sense. He had been transported back in time before he even knew of the existence of magic, before he had become a mage.

Tears welled in his eyes as he thought of his mother, Anne, who was likely still alive in this timeline, and of Eliza, his sister, who had not yet fallen victim to the grip of polio. The weight of the knowledge he carried, the experiences of a life that had not yet been lived, pressed upon him.

Now, he checked if his magic still flowed in his veins. They say once a mage unlocks their mana veins, they are forever able to use magic. He took a deep breath and watched as a faint blue glow made rivulets along his wrists. 

It's not as powerful but at the very least, I don't need to unlock it again.

Rohan's hands clenched into fists, determination burning anew within him. He might have lost the full power he once held, but he still possessed the knowledge and the will to change his fate.

The people he had trusted, the comrades he had fought alongside, had turned against him. The image of the crystal sword, a weapon of legend, plunging into his heart was etched into Rohan's mind like a scar that would never fade. 

"Forget saving the world," Rohan muttered, his voice quivering with a mixture of anger and determination. "I'm going to ruin you all."

Yes, here he was, alive and breathing, a child once more.

Rohan knew he had been given a second chance, an opportunity to rewrite the course of his life. He had traveled back in time, a staggering sixteen years before his betrayal, and he intended to use this newfound advantage to its fullest.

With his vow of retribution echoing in the darkness of the basement, Rohan began to plan, his mind sharp and focused. He would protect his family, uncover the motives behind his betrayal, and ensure that those who had wronged him paid the price.

Rohan stood up in the cold, damp basement, the memories of a life that should not have existed yet filled his mind, pushing him forward. This time, he would protect his family.

First, he needed to save his sister from contracting polio.