The world shattered, and with it, so did everything he once was.
Belarion Vane felt his consciousness drift like a speck of dust in a hurricane. Thoughts blurred. Pain, anger, hope—all dissolved into the void. There was no sky, no ground, no time. Just endless, suffocating nothingness.
Then, something clicked.
[System Initialization Complete. Welcome, User: Belarion Vane.]
The voice was neither male nor female, neither mechanical nor divine. It echoed through the void with undeniable authority.
[You have been selected for the "Sovereign Ascension System."]
[World Environment: Nareth, Realm of Fractured Stars.]
[Starting Location: Ashmere Village, Eastern Fringe of the Azurefall Kingdom.]
[Initializing Reincarnation Protocol... Complete. Beginning soul tether... Initiating corporeal merge...]
Belarion screamed.
It wasn't a cry of pain, but of sheer existential compression. His soul squeezed through the narrow gate between realities, slamming into flesh—new, foreign flesh. Memories, instincts, and sensations burst across his senses like fireworks. A child's cries rang in his ears. A mother sobbed in joy. A midwife whispered prayers.
And then, silence.
Twenty years later.
The winds of Ashmere Village howled as they always did in early spring. Perched on the outermost edge of Azurefall Kingdom, the village was a forgotten hamlet of thatched roofs, mossy fences, and dirt roads. Its people farmed, prayed, and died without ever seeing the shining spires of the capital or the legendary battlefields sung of in tavern tales.
Belarion Vane sat cross-legged atop a jagged boulder outside the village. The sunrise spilled golden light over his sharp features, casting long shadows on the grass. His hair, an unruly midnight cascade, fluttered in the breeze. His eyes, a peculiar silver that glowed faintly in the dark, scanned the horizon with the dispassion of a man far older than twenty.
"Sign In."
A crisp chime echoed in his mind.
[Sign-In Successful. Location: Ashmere Ridge. Reward: Flameheart Seed (Mythic).]
A warm pulse surged through his chest. His system—the mysterious, overpowered Sovereign Ascension System—responded with impeccable timing, as it always did.
[Flameheart Seed (Mythic): A sentient spiritual flame that evolves with its host. Grants affinity with fire laws, immunity to heat-based attacks, and accelerated cultivation.]
[Would you like to bind the item?]
"Yes."
The seed manifested before him, a flickering crimson ember suspended in air. With a breath, he inhaled it. Fire coursed through his veins, burning yet invigorating. The system's interface unfolded across his vision:
Three years.
For three years, he had done nothing but sign in. No training, no alchemy, no beast hunts. Just waking up in a new location, whispering two words, and receiving absurdly powerful treasures, pills, and techniques. Most cultivators in Nareth would kill for a single heaven-tier cultivation method. He had discarded ten.
"You've changed again," a soft voice interrupted his thoughts.
Belarion turned to see Leena approaching, her raven-black hair tied back with a twine ribbon, her plain robes fluttering like ghost silk. She was one of the few villagers who dared speak to him casually. Perhaps because she'd known him since he was a boy. Perhaps because she was as strange as he was.
"What did the spirits gift you today?"
He smirked. "A seed. One that burns."
"You say the oddest things," she said, smiling faintly. Her gaze lingered on him—not with affection, but curiosity. As if trying to understand something that defied logic.
Belarion didn't mind. He found her presence soothing in a world that grew increasingly unrelatable.
"You should leave soon," she added after a pause. "Ashmere is too small. You've outgrown it."
He nodded. The thought had weighed on him for months. The treasures he gained daily had long surpassed the worth of the entire village. Power hummed beneath his skin like a caged storm. He knew it was time.
But where would he go?
Azurefall Kingdom was vast, but it was only a fragment of the known world. Beyond its borders lay fractured empires, ancient sects hidden among cloud-wreathed mountains, and ruins where gods had once bled.
His system remained enigmatic, its true purpose veiled. It gave, but rarely explained.
"Where should I begin?" he asked aloud.
[Quest Available: The Sovereign's First Step.]
[Objective: Travel to the capital of Azurefall Kingdom. Witness the Heavenly Baptism of the Crown Prince. Uncover the mystery of the Fallen Star Cult.]
[Reward: Random Heaven-Tier Technique, 100 System Points, Title Upgrade (Wanderer ➔ Seeker).]
Belarion exhaled slowly. So the game had finally begun.
He stood.
Behind him, the village still slept beneath the dawn mist. Before him stretched a dirt road that wound through forests, valleys, and cities he had never seen. Somewhere along that road, power, purpose, and peril awaited.
But he wasn't afraid.
He was bored.
And boredom was a far greater motivator than ambition.
That night, he left without fanfare. No goodbyes. No tears.
He passed beneath ancient trees and whispered hills, his footsteps silent, his aura suppressed. A common traveler in appearance, carrying only a satchel of bread and a wooden staff. But within him coiled the Flameheart Seed, pulsing with mythic potential.
Two days into his journey, bandits ambushed him. Eight of them. Ragged, hungry men wielding rusted blades and foul breath.
"Hand over everything, lad!"
Belarion blinked slowly.
"Sign In."
[Sign-In Successful. Location: Blackbriar Pass. Reward: Soul-Steel Dagger (Epic).]
The dagger materialized in his hand. Sleek. Cold. Singing with soul energy.
He stepped forward.
The first bandit lunged.
A single slash.
One body fell.
Then two. Then five.
The last man fled, screaming. Belarion let him go.
Blood dripped from the dagger, vanishing as the system absorbed the essence.
[+8 System Points.]
He walked on.
The world was vast. Kingdoms warred. Sects schemed. Bloodlines awakened. Gods slumbered. And now, a single man with a system neither divine nor demonic had begun his quiet ascent.
Not a hero.
Not a villain.
Just a man.
With a thousand roads before him.
And the System at his back.
Chapter 2: The Baptism of Fire and Blood
The Azurefall Kingdom's capital, Celestia Prime, rose like a dream sculpted from moonlight and marble. Towering spires reached toward the heavens, their tips crowned in starlit crystal. Bridges of skyglass arched over rushing rivers, while floating platforms carried noble scions and sect envoys between ivory towers.
It was a city built atop ancient ley-lines—arteries of world-energy that hummed beneath the stone. Cultivators from every region gathered here, especially today.
For this was the day of the Crown Prince's Heavenly Baptism.
And Belarion Vane stood at its gates, eyes half-lidded, expression unreadable.
He had traveled for six days. In that time, he encountered two minor sect disciples who mistook him for a rogue cultivator and tried to extort him.
They no longer breathed.
He passed by a ruined temple where ghostflames flickered over shattered idols. The system rewarded him with an [Ancient Glyph Scroll – Unknown Use].
He slept beneath open stars and awakened each day with a whisper:
"Sign In."
Each location granted him something absurd.
By the time he reached Celestia Prime, he had collected:
Heaven-Tier Movement Art: Void Step – Phase I
Sacred Peach of Vigor (restores life force, enhances longevity)
Fragment of a Celestial Beast Egg (Hatching Unknown)
System Title Upgrade: Seeker ➝ Wandering Sovereign
Yet, none of it stirred his heart.
Not until he reached the capital.
The city gates were warded with arrays powered by Core Formation elders. Imperial guards, clad in scale-etched armor, inspected incoming travelers through enchanted lenses.
Belarion wore a simple cloak and suppressive charm. His presence barely rippled in the spiritual world. Just another face in a flood of pilgrims.
Or so he thought.
"Halt."
A young cultivator blocked his path. His armor bore the Azure Dragon insignia of the Royal Guard, and his eyes flicked briefly to Belarion's satchel—though it held nothing but dried bread and a blank talisman.
"Name and sect affiliation?" the guard asked, sharp and rehearsed.
"Belarion Vane. No sect."
The guard frowned. "Purpose of visit?"
"To witness the Crown Prince's Baptism."
"And your cultivation realm?"
Belarion hesitated, then smiled faintly. "Mortal Stage."
It wasn't a lie. He simply didn't mention that he had condensed three Sovereign Cores and possessed an affinity with three laws—Fire, Void, and Spirit—though none were awakened.
The guard scoffed. "Another hopeful. Fine. Don't cause trouble."
The gate opened.
Within, Celestia Prime was alive with divine tension.
Banners bearing the royal sigil hung from spires. Street vendors sold "Heavenly Baptism Relics" that were obviously fake. Children ran with toy spears, shouting, "I am the Crown Prince!"
Belarion wandered with little interest—until he reached the Sunspire Arena, the ancient battleground where the Baptism would take place.
Crowds packed the viewing platforms. At the center stood a massive jade circle, inscribed with glowing runes that pulsed like a living heart. Overhead, twelve celestial disks spun in slow harmony—the Starweave Formation, a sacred construct from the Age of Titans.
And standing at the heart of the platform… was the prince.
Crown Prince Kaelith of House Serenthal stood beneath a cascade of falling light.
He wore robes of living starlight, each thread inscribed with protective scripture. His eyes shimmered with dragon blood, and his aura radiated the suppressed fury of a beast waiting to awaken.
Twelve Grand Elders stood in a ring around him, each channeling energy into the disks above.