Rebirth System: Blood and Ash
Aric Valerian, the fourth prince of the Valerian Empire, bears many titles: The Forgotten Prince, The Whore's Child, The King's Bastard—names that have been spoken more than his own. Born with a crippling illness and devoid of mana or ki, Aric was a disgrace, scorned by his family and the court. But when the gods cured him and gifted him the strength to fight, Aric dared to hope. He sought glory in battle, only to be betrayed by his brother and sent to die in a hopeless war. In his final moments, as death closed in, a mysterious text appeared before him… [Would you like to change your fate?] After being given another chance, Aric embarks on a ruthless journey to claim absolute sovereignty. [Ki Circulation Mastered: Strength +10] [System Upgrade: Advanced tactical planning unlocked] [Hidden Fortress Established: Stronghold security +15%] The forgotten prince claws his way through the treacherous landscape of imperial politics, he is forced to make impossible choices, each decision pushing him further down a path soaked in blood. He learns that true power demands sacrifice, and the price of vengeance may be his soul. ------------------ This book contains dark themes and depictions. The mc is a ruthless cynic, and is closer to being a villain than he is a hero. Main themes: Politics, Kingdom building, strategy, war
Checkmate
Aric walked into the foyer of his estate, the air tense.
His gaze fell on Sylas, who stood at the center of the room, his face twisted in rage, nostrils flaring like an animal just barely restrained. Behind him were three men—Guards, no doubt—each of them hardened, with cold eyes that never drifted from Aric.
Sylas's presence, fuming and aggressive, made the room feel tighter, the walls seeming to close in around them.
In the corner of the foyer, as if unaware of the storm gathering just a few feet away, sat old man Hitoshi and Serina. The two were engrossed in a chess match, seated on either side of a small round table, their faces inches from the board.
Hitoshi's bushy white brows were furrowed in concentration, his hand hovering over a pawn, while Serina's youthful face mirrored his intensity. The game had entirely absorbed them—they hadn't even acknowledged Sylas's entrance.