A sharp pain shot through Theon’s head.
"Argh..."
His eyes slowly opened. Memories from both lives came rushing back all at once. Earth. The lightning. Aetherion. The portal. The Fenrir Alpha. Everything flashed through his mind at once, too fast to hold onto, too vivid to dismiss as a dream.
He instinctively raised his hand and touched his face.
"I’m... really a child?"
His fingers felt small and unfamiliar against his own skin. For a moment he almost laughed at how strange it was, to be a grown man’s mind trapped inside a body that had barely lived a decade. Then the laugh caught in his throat, because nothing about this felt like a gift. It felt like a debt he did not yet understand the terms of.
He looked around the room. To his left sat the Emperor, his face filled with worry. To his right stood Prince Styr, watching him anxiously. Two royal attendants stood quietly nearby, holding medicine and fresh bandages.
Theon fell silent.
So I really reincarnated. No more endless training. I could just live a worry free life.
The thought should have brought relief. Instead it sat uneasily in his chest, the way a lie sits when you have not yet decided whether you believe it yourself. He had wanted an ordinary life once, as Adrian, before the rain and the lightning took that choice away from him. Now he had been handed a second one, wrapped in silk sheets and royal titles he had done nothing to earn.
I just hope Mom is doing okay.
He remembered Aetherion’s promise.
"Your mother shall not suffer. I shall watch over her."
A small smile appeared on his face, though it did not quite reach his eyes.
"I guess I have to trust him."
It was the only piece of his old life he had left to hold onto, a promise from a being he had met for less than a minute. He hated how much weight he was putting on it. He hated more that he had no other choice.
Not long after Theon opened his eyes, Prince Styr noticed he was awake.
"Theon!"
"You’re awake!"
Without hesitation, Styr rushed forward and pulled him into a tight embrace.
"I’m alright... Brother," Theon replied awkwardly.
He still wasn’t used to calling someone else his brother. In his previous life, he had grown up as an only child and had never experienced what it was like to have a sibling. The word felt foreign in his mouth, too big for the space he had ever made for it. And yet Styr’s arms were shaking slightly, as if he had spent the whole night bracing for a different outcome, and something in Theon’s chest ached at that. Whatever Theon Nivaris had been to this family before, he had clearly mattered to at least one person in it.
Beside them, the Emperor let out a quiet sigh of relief. Although he remained calm, the worry on his face had finally begun to fade.
As the room fell silent, Theon suddenly remembered the battle in Frostfang Forest.
"The knights..." he muttered.
He looked at Prince Styr with a worried expression.
"Did they survive?" he asked.
Silence filled the room.
Prince Styr lowered his head, his expression turning grim.
"Only one of them survived," he replied quietly.
Theon’s heart sank. The faces came back to him uninvited, the young knight who had asked about palace food that very morning, the sound of the screams cutting off one by one. He had told himself in the forest that he would carry that weight. Hearing the number spoken aloud made it real in a way that guilt alone never had.
"It’s all my fault," he whispered, clenching the bedsheet.
No one in the room corrected him, and somehow that silence hurt worse than if they had.
After taking a deep breath, he looked back at the attendants.
"Bring the survivor to me. I want to see him."
After a few minutes a knock through the door
"Your Majesty, Sir Aldric has arrived as ordered," one of the attendants announced.
"Bring him in," Theon replied.
Moments later, Sir Aldric was carried into the room on a wooden stretcher. His body was wrapped in bandages, and countless wounds from the Dire Wolf attack covered his arms and chest.
As soon as he was placed before the prince, Aldric struggled to sit up. Ignoring the pain, he forced himself onto his knees and bowed his head.
"Your Majesty... I have failed in my duty," he said weakly. "I failed to protect the Seventh Prince of the Empire. I beg Your Majesty to sentence me to death."
"No!" Theon interrupted immediately.
Seeing a man who had nearly died for him now asking to die again, for a mistake that had never been his, was more than Theon could stomach.
"Please, stand." He turned toward the royal healers. "Heal Sir Aldric at once."
Sir Aldric shook his head in refusal.
"Your Highness... the royal healers exist to serve only the Imperial Family. You should not give such an order."
Theon looked at him calmly, though inside he felt anything but calm. He was tired, so tired, of watching people offer up their lives as if his own was worth more than theirs simply because of the blood in his veins.
"Then today, I ordered otherwise."
"Healers, treat Sir Aldric."
The healers exchanged nervous glances before turning to the Emperor. The Emperor silently nodded.
Receiving his approval, the healers stepped forward and began treating Sir Aldric with healing magic.
A warm green light surrounded his body as his wounds slowly began to close. After several minutes, most of his injuries had healed.
Sir Aldric slowly rose to his feet before kneeling once more.
"Your Majesty, I still deserve death."
Before anyone could respond, Prince Styr stepped forward and drew his sword.
"You failed to protect my brother," he said, his voice filled with rage.
The room instantly fell silent.
"Brother, please calm down," Theon said as he quickly stepped in front of Sir Aldric. "This was never his fault."
His pulse was pounding. He had never stood between a drawn sword and another person before, not in either of his lives, and for a moment his legs felt unsteady beneath him. But the fear of losing another person on his account outweighed the fear of the blade.
"I was the one who convinced Sir Aldric and the other knight to take me into Frostfang Forest."
"They both refused."
"But I abused my authority as the Seventh Prince and ordered them to obey me."
"They had no choice."
Prince Styr clenched the hilt of his sword.
"If you wanted to visit the forest," he said through gritted teeth, "why didn’t you come to me? I would have taken you there myself."
Theon lowered his head. There it was again, the thing he could not quite explain even to himself, the old habit of a boy who had spent years believing he was a burden nobody wanted to be bothered with, and the new instinct of a man who had learned the hard way that asking for help before a lightning bolt found him would have cost him nothing at all.
"I’m sorry, Brother. I didn’t want to trouble you."
Unable to contain his anger any longer, Prince Styr sheathed his sword and stormed out of the room.
The Emperor sighed softly before following behind him. As he reached the doorway, he looked back at Theon.
"Get some rest. We shall speak again when you’ve fully recovered."
With that, the Emperor quietly left the room.
After everyone had left, the room fell silent. Theon stared at his hands, the same small unfamiliar hands from before, and for the first time allowed himself to feel the full weight of everything that had happened since the rain in the other world. A dead coach he would never see again. A mother he could not hold. Knights who had died screaming his name. A brother who loved a version of him he had never actually met.
Then it clicked.
"Magic." "Aetherion said this world uses magic."
He smiled in excitement, grateful for something, anything, that felt like it belonged to him and not to the ghosts he was carrying.
"Let’s see if it really works."
He slowly raised one finger and pointed it toward the empty wall.
"Ice Lance."
A small shard of ice formed at his fingertip. In the next instant, it rapidly grew into a sharp ice lance. Then, without warning, it expanded to an enormous size.
BOOM!
The Ice Lance shot forward, smashing through the wall with a deafening explosion. A freezing wave burst from the impact, spreading across half of the palace courtyard and covering everything in thick ice.
Theon stood there, completely stunned.
"W. What?"
"So this is magic."
A flicker of unease crept in beneath the astonishment. If a beginner spell could do this by accident, what would happen the day he actually meant to hurt someone. The thought settled into the same place where his guilt over the knights already lived, and he did not enjoy the company it kept there.
The sudden explosion startled everyone outside the room.
The royal attendants screamed in shock as Prince Styr and several Imperial Knights rushed toward the prince’s chamber. The moment they entered, they froze. The entire wall had been blown apart, and half of the palace courtyard was covered in thick ice. Prince Styr stared at the destruction before looking at Theon.
"D. Did you do this?" he asked in disbelief.
Theon scratched the back of his head awkwardly.
"Oh, um, yes, Brother."
"I didn’t mean for this to happen."
"I just tried casting a basic spell, Ice Lance."
"I never expected it to become so powerful."
The room fell quiet.
Not long after the incident, Theon received a summons from the Emperor, requesting his presence in his study.
Inside the Emperor’s study, the Emperor sat behind his desk while the Imperial Court Mage stood quietly beside him. Theon stood before them, doing his best not to fidget under his father’s gaze, a gaze that still felt like it belonged to a stranger even as some small, buried part of this borrowed body seemed to recognize it.
The Emperor looked directly into his son’s eyes. "Explain yourself."
Theon answered honestly.
"Father, I don’t know what happened."
"I simply cast Ice Lance like I always have."
"But this time, it became much stronger."
The Imperial Court Mage stepped forward and carefully examined Theon’s body and mana. After a few moments, he turned toward the Emperor.
"Your Majesty, there is nothing unusual about the prince’s mana. However, it feels far denser than before."
The Emperor remained silent for a moment before speaking. "Perhaps surviving death awakened your latent mana."
No one in the room questioned his conclusion.
Instead of remaining in bed, Theon made his way to the Imperial Archives. He wanted to learn more about the world he had been reincarnated into, and if he was honest with himself, he also wanted a few hours where no one was watching him with worry or grief in their eyes. After searching through several shelves, he found an old book titled The History of the Nine Continents. He opened it and began to read.
The world was divided into nine continents, each inhabited by a dominant race.
Humans ruled the Northern Continent. They were known for their adaptability and limitless potential, producing outstanding warriors, mages, scholars, and inventors.
Elves ruled the Great Western Forest. They excelled in magic, possessed immense mana, could communicate with spirits, and lived for centuries.
Beastfolk ruled the Southwestern Continent. They were renowned for their overwhelming physical strength, speed, keen senses, and unmatched hunting abilities.
Vampires ruled the Southeastern Continent. They specialized in blood magic, possessed incredible regeneration, and grew stronger under the cover of night.
Dragonkin ruled the Eastern Volcanic Continent. Born with immense physical strength and powerful mana, they were masters of dragon based magic.
Dwarves ruled the Northwestern Mountains. They were legendary blacksmiths, craftsmen, and masters of rune forging.
Demons ruled the Ancient Dark Forest in the south. They excelled in destructive magic, curses, and soul manipulation.
Angels lived in the Heavenly Realm, far above the mortal world. They were masters of holy magic, healing, blessings, and purification.
Seraphs resided in the Celestial Realm, the highest realm of all. They possessed immense divine power and served as the guardians of the heavens.
The book also mentioned that Ancient Beasts could be found across every continent, many of them possessing power equal to entire kingdoms.
As for magic, it was divided into ranks: Basic, Advanced, Legendary, Divine, Primordial, Demi God.
The Primordial rank was said to be the highest form of magic in existence since no one had been able to reach the Demi God realm, for only True Gods could choose someone as a Demi God. Throughout history, only a handful of Humans, Elves, and Celestial beings had ever attained the Divine Attribute.
After finishing the Chapter, Theon slowly closed the book.
"So this is the world I’ve been reborn into."
After returning the book to its shelf, Theon quietly left the Imperial Archives. As he walked back toward his chamber, he suddenly stopped. He looked up at the night sky, where countless stars shimmered brilliantly above him.
A gentle breeze brushed past as he slowly clenched his fist. He thought of the knights who would never see this sky again. He thought of Aldric, kneeling and begging for death instead of being angry at the boy who had gotten his friends killed. He thought of Styr’s shaking arms, and of a mother on another world who did not even know her son was gone.
If this life was truly his to keep, he was not going to waste it hiding from what he had cost to get it.
"This world."
"It’s real."
A small smile appeared on his face, steadier this time.
"Then."
"Let’s see just how far Infinite Growth can take me."
With renewed determination, he continued walking toward his chamber.