The sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the fortress's outer yard, where the Scion Order initiates and veterans alike trained under the soft glow of ward lanterns. The clash of swords and low commands echoed through the air, but one figure moved distinctly, effortlessly—a blur of disciplined strikes and sharp focus.
Kael Valehart, one of the Awakened—a man not of this world, a transmigrator—stood tall at the edge of the arena, his training blade dripping with arcane energy, his expression calm and keen. He had earned his rank quicker than any before him, not just with power but through integrity, grit, and undeniable charisma.
He turned as he sensed someone's gaze.
Commander Arasha, cloaked in dusk and shadow, approached with her usual composed grace. Her new inflicted injuries from there previous mission were mostly healed, though she still walked with the careful gait of someone accustomed to pushing through pain.
Kael saluted. "Commander."
She studied him, then nods, eyes narrowed ever so slightly—not in suspicion, but intrigue.
"You've advanced faster than I expected," she stated, tone neutral but not unkind.
"I came with nothing," he replied. "I had to prove I could stand beside your knights—not just because of my power, but because of what I believe in."
Arasha's gaze sharpened. "And what is it that you believe in?"
Kael offered a small smile, one that tugs at a deeper part of him. "You."
The ultimate martyr that carried the weight of the world until her dying breath...
She blinked—caught off-guard, though she hid it well.
"Not in worship," he clarified quickly, his voice low, steady. "But in what you stand for. What you fight for. The people talk about you like you're a myth. A fire that doesn't go out. But I see something different."
She tilted her head, wary curiosity in her expression. "Do you?"
"I see a woman who's dying to breathe between battles. Who carries a kingdom on her shoulders because no one else was strong enough. A woman who gets called a savior but still stands in the dirt with the broken."
There was a silence between them, heavy but not uncomfortable. Arasha turned slightly, her eyes drifting toward the horizon.
"I'm not a myth," she commented quietly. "I'm just the commander of the Scion Order. Someone who doesn't what to witness the horror and the helplessness against the unexpected again...I'm someone who wants to hold unto my father's legacy by living his creed. Upholding 'noblesse oblige' even if no one wants to."
Kael stepped forward, voice gentler now.
"Creed or not—it's changing lives. You've taken in the unwanted, the cursed, the lost… and gave us something worth standing for. Do you know how rare that is?"
You might not know, Commander, how hard I had to fight to finally come to terms that even with a system, with rewards, with a body that's not mine I still want to live even when face with this world's chaos. And the reason I still struggle to make sense of all of this is because you gave me a place to rest, a place to feel safe and to matter...
Kael looked at Arasha with his eyes glimmering with those unsaid thoughts, with deep complex emotion unable to express.
And her eyes met his. Steady and Composed.
"You made sanctuary out of ashes, Commander," he declared. "Even if you don't see it, we do."
You gave me place to breath...
Arasha's gaze softened—just a fraction. A rare thing, like the last bloom in frost.
"You speak well," she murmured, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. "That'll get you far in politics."
"I'd rather follow someone worth fighting for," Kael replied. "And I think the others feel the same."
You have no idea how you saved me...
You truly deserve to be the most loved character in the game...
That's why I don't want your bad ending to happen no matter what!
*****
Alexander Smith, 28 years old, caffeine-fueled strategist, rising star in the Eidolon Riftwars: Ascension community never believed in transmigration—at least, not until he woke up as a penniless third son of a duke, exiled from his own home.
He still remembered his last moments on Earth.
He had been inside his VR gaming pod, immersed in Eidolon Riftwars: Ascension, a high-fantasy strategy RPG with an unforgiving system. It was the kind of game where a single wrong decision could lead to hard-mode or worse a failed route, and where political intrigue mattered just as much as combat power.
He was grinding through the game's Nightshade Path, a notoriously punishing route only unlocked after selecting a perfect storm of "wrong" political decisions.
He hadn't meant to unlock it.
One wrong allegiance. One failed court alliance. One delay in answering a rift alert.
And suddenly, the story fractured.
His empire fell to rot, allies turned traitor, and enemies multiplied like shadows. The final screen he saw was something that had never appeared before, not in any version or dev blog:
"And so begins the Price of Knowledge."
The world you know will burn. But the world you do not… is already burning.
[Confirm Descent?]
He clicked before thinking. The screen went black.
And then—he fell.
Then when he woke up, he wasn't in his high-tech gaming pod.
He was lying on the dirt floor of a small inn, staring at the rough wooden ceiling, his limbs weak, his head throbbing. His first instinct was to log out.
That option didn't exist.
Confused, he looked at his hands—these weren't his hands.
Pale, calloused fingers. Slightly longer than his own. And his body…
Lifting himself up, he caught sight of his reflection in a broken piece of a mirror.
Not his face.
His mind reeled.
A young man with messy dark hair, sharp golden eyes, and a lean yet athletic build stared back at him.
And then, the memories came flooding in.
The name Kael Valehart surfaced in his mind—a name he recognized.
Not as himself.
But as a minor, exiled character in Eidolon Riftwars: Ascension.
A three-star difficulty character.
Kael Valehart
Third son of Duke Valehart.
Exiled at the age of 12 and current age 16.
Born from a foreign maid, he was ostracized for his lack of a noble inheritance—no magic, no combat prowess, no family blessing.
A complete nobody.
Alexander—now Kael, sat there, stunned.
Of all the characters in the game, he had ended up in the body of this guy?!
Not a prince.
Not a chosen hero.
Not even a well-known antagonist.
Just a throwaway noble who disappeared from the story after his exile.
He couldn't even access any of the game's core functions—no skill tree, no inventory, no status screen.
At least, not yet.
Because in Eidolon Riftwars: Ascension, every major character had a Catalyst Event—the trigger that would unlock their potential.
Kael's was simple.
He needed to get close to a rift that has the ancient riftspawn.
He would have one chance to awaken.
And so, after weeks of adjusting to this new world, it finally happened.
Capital of Luxurite
The skies darkened. The air split apart. And in the middle of a bustling town square, a Rift tore open before him, unleashing creatures from the Abyss.
People screamed, fleeing in terror. The knights stationed nearby were caught off guard.
And in that moment, Kael did the one thing no sane man would do.
He ran toward it.
Past the panicking civilians.
Past the defenders who helped those in need and assisted in evacuating the helpless.
He evaded and sneaked through alleys and sewers to get to the center.
He knew the well known npc— Commader Arasha will be fighting the hordes of monster, he had to get his timing right so he could reach the rift and awakened with minimal injuries.
He had to make sure that he enters into the eye of the storm before the ancient riftspawn fully enters this world.
Because Kael knew the game's mechanics and it's intricate map, he pushed through with everything he got and gambled.
Reaching the center of the capital, he saw Commander Ashara's kneeling, the rift giving way to the ancient one.
This was it.
This was his Catalyst Event—he can't miss it!
This was how he would unlock his system.
And if he failed—
He'd die for real.
The rift reacted.
It shuddered violently, the swirling void pulsing in response to the Kael's presence.
Runes ignited beneath his feet—symbols this world had never seen before, glowing with a light so ancient and pure that even the monsters recoiled.
The rift let out a scream.
A pulse of energy erupted outward, washing over the battlefield like a cleansing storm. The creatures shrieked as their bodies disintegrated, torn apart by the raw force of magic.
"I shouldn't have lived through that…" he muttered, chest heaving, collapsing to one knee as the final sealing glyph flared and consumed the rift.
Ding!
[Congratulations! Catalyst Event Success!]
[System Unlocked]
Finally!
A glowing interface blinked to life in front of his eyes—translucent and pulsating with energy. The same UI he remembered from the game, but now it shimmered with terrifying realism. He could feel it.
[Welcome User 001!]
[Special Privilege: Increased Charisma and Mid-Tier Regeneration]
Kael stared at his trembling hands, then back to the interface. His body still ached, and his heart pounded with lingering fear—but somewhere deep inside, adrenaline was giving way to a strange, rising thrill.
"This isn't just a game anymore… but it's the one I know best."
He stood slowly, wiping blood from his lip, and opened the skill menu. Every ability was locked behind a skill point cost or required grueling training to master—no more developer cheat codes, no respawns.
But he knew the mechanics, the world map, the enemy patterns.
So he'd use all that to survive, to live.