Return(2)

The study, bathed in the gentle glow of the vestiges of morning sunlight, served as Alaric's sanctuary within the Astreaus mansion. Surrounded by ancient tomes and familial works of literature, he pondered the potential heritages that lay within his reach, each carrying the weight of centuries, power and mystery.

His contemplation led him to the heritage of the Glacial Seraph, a legacy tainted by betrayal. However, that would be in the much later future if he let it happen. A man named David Celease, an employee of the Duchy turned spy for the western duchy, had obtained the Frostwrymm Guardian heritage through treachery during another fateful expedition in the mountain range. Alaric, indifferent to the fate of traitors, saw an opportunity within this ancient artefact. The decision was clear in his mind — the Glacial Seraph would become a gift for Elena, his sister. Beyond familial bonds, Alaric considered the strain heritages imposed on the soul and sought to spare Elena from anything inherently malevolent. One heritage took up a lot of soul essence to maintain and two would be even harder. If the heritage was one of twisted nature, an individual would not only need to maintain it but suppress it lest they succumb to its perverse nature. His sister was by no means weak but she wasn't strong either. With the Glacial Seraph nestled within their mountain range, following the cold's lead would guide him to the ancient creature's spirit and there he would obtain the heritage.

His mind then turned to his own aspirations. The Astreaus family, from his knowledge, possessed [Retribution], a powerful blade that echoed through their lineage. Yet, Alaric craved balance. His decision to seek [Retaliation], the counterpart to [Retribution], showcased his desire for equilibrium in power. Although powerful, [Retribution] had constraints that had to be adhered to and that meant the blade would be a liability in some instances. Its counterpart on the other hand was the perfect blade to use when versed with unknown powers. As the name suggested, [Retaliation] would do something akin to mirroring attacks he faced. The dance of these blades in his mind envisioned a deadly synergy that would define his most of his path.

Interrupting his musings, a gentle knock heralded Elara's entrance, bearing a tray of tea. As the ambience shifted to one of business, Alaric handed her the finalized documents for the restaurant's grand opening. The atmosphere transitioned seamlessly from introspection to practicalities as he instructed Elara to secure the first reservation for the Duke and his family, along with influential figures in the city.

With Elara's departure, Alaric's attention turned to the oval device displaying his account balance. The recent sale of his watches had swelled the sum to a staggering 8,390,234 crowns. Slumping into his seat, he couldn't help muttering to himself, "I can't believe this isn't a dream."

The surreal nature of his newfound wealth and the ventures ahead left him momentarily astounded. The world outside the study continued its ceaseless rhythm, oblivious to the intricate decisions and aspirations unfurling within the Astreaus mansion. At the epicentre of change, Alaric stood poised on the precipice of his destiny, where heritage and the allure of power intertwined in a dance of shaping his journey.

After Elara gracefully exited the study, leaving Alaric to the solitude of his thoughts, he turned inwardly, seeking the connection to the universe's consciousness that had guided him thus far. In the recesses of his mind, the familiar interface of his status window manifested, displaying information that held the key to his current situation. Much to his contemplation, not much had changed.

Name: Alaric Astraeus

Race: Human*

Age: 16

Titles: None

Soul Core Rank: A

Elemental Affinities: Lightning

Abilities: None

Attributes: Celestial Gaze, Mental Fortress, Lesser Ascended Physique

Heritage: None

Principality Origin: Abyssal Antireality

His gaze fixated on the status window, a portal to his understanding of the world. The complexities of his circumstances lingered, and the inertia of inaction weighed on his shoulders. The universe's consciousness offered glimpses, but the path ahead remained shrouded in uncertainty.

Amidst his reflections, Alaric's memory stirred, recalling the narrative woven within the novel. In the world outside, peace treaties proliferated across the continent, a delicate dance amidst simmering tensions. Astreavia, the formidable nation they called home, held a pivotal role in this geopolitical theatre.

Word had spread of the awakening of the crown prince with a divine Principality, an event that sent ripples through diplomatic circles. The unfolding narrative echoed in Alaric's mind, guiding his understanding of the unfolding events beyond the mansion's walls. All of which he knew already. 

The revelation, however, wouldn't be singular. Alaric knew the daughter of the northern Duke had also realized her Principality a month after awakening, marking the simultaneous emergence of two potent forces within Astreavia. This knowledge became the linchpin, prompting several nations to reassess their strategies.

The logic was simple yet strategic – prolonging hostilities with Astreavia, laden with powerful entities, would only turn the tides further in their favour. The lack of intelligence on the two awakened youngsters, coupled with Astreavia nurturing its talents during the conflict, created a formidable advantage in the long run for them and a major disadvantage for its enemies.

Alaric acknowledged the intricacies of this geopolitical chess match. The enemy nations, wary of the potential threat posed by the Principality bearers, hesitated to continue waging war. The prospect of facing fresh adversaries, unknown and potent, loomed as a considerable deterrent.

While these revelations were not the entirety of the intricate geopolitical landscape, they tilted the scales decidedly in Astreavia's favour. The dance of power, diplomacy, and the emergence of divine Principality holders had set the stage for a grand narrative, unfolding far beyond the confines of Alaric's study. Of course, Alaric knew this was only the beginning, he aimed to survive all the chaos and protect the duchy in the process. It would be a safe haven for him and his loved ones.

As he absorbed the implications, Alaric contemplated the role he might play in this larger narrative. Alaric sighed deeply, the weight of his new reality settling on his shoulders like an unseen burden. With a deliberate gesture, he severed his connection to the universe's consciousness, a temporary respite from the constant stream of information. As he withdrew from the ethereal interface, he took a moment to survey his study.

The room, adorned with the trappings of nobility and scholarly pursuits, felt both familiar and alien. The realization of his transmigration had been a lingering presence, but now, it surged to the forefront of his consciousness. The events that had unfolded – the rigorous training sessions with the duke, the confrontations with underworld lords, strained interactions with distant family members – all of it pressed upon him, challenging the façade of apathy he had adopted.

For a week or two, Alaric had navigated this foreign existence with a detached demeanour, but the emotional toll was catching up. The scuffle with underworld lords, the weight of familial expectations, and the act of taking another person's life had left an indelible mark on his psyche.

At that moment, a wave of disquiet swept over him. Alaric, who had prided himself on being composed and rational, found himself grappling with an unfamiliar sensation. It wasn't panic; he was certain of that. Yet, a tight knot constricted his chest, and his breathing grew laboured.

Desperation crept into his actions as he sought stability. Gripping the edge of his desk, Alaric struggled against the encroaching dizziness. In his faltering state, a cascade of cups Elara had yet to clear from their earlier interaction tumbled over the edge of the table. The shattering sound of breaking china resonated through the room.

The commotion reached a climax as Elara, alarmed by the disturbance, swung the door open. Her voice called out to Alaric, but the words seemed distant, muffled by the chaotic symphony echoing in his mind. Unfocused eyes met Elara's concerned gaze, and the world around him blurred into obscurity.

A sudden, overwhelming darkness enveloped Alaric's senses, a shroud that veiled both the room and his consciousness. As the echoes of Elara's desperate calls lingered in the background, he succumbed to the unconscious embrace, surrendering momentarily to the tumult within.