Chapter 1

1. Childhood

The champion from another dimension.

The redeemer of the territory, he who subdued the demon sovereign Balor, banishing the oppression of the dark hosts from those lands.

However, the inhabitants of this domain knew Han Sung by a very different alias.

The tracker of the Empire. An executioner devoid of mercy and remorse.

Han Sung’s abrupt transfer to this universe did not occur by chance.

It was due to the execution of a millennial summoning process, meticulously structured by the imperial sorcerers. Thus, Han Sung, who held the SSS rank as a creature exterminator on Earth and served as the absolute leader of the human resistance factions, awoke in a foreign reality.

His existence was reduced to that of a mere instrument to consolidate the crown’s pretensions, molded as a biological weapon with the appearance of a savior.

Following the fall of the Demon Sovereign, the imperial sovereignty initiated a military campaign to absorb the continent, positioning the “Hero from Another World” at the vanguard of the offensive.

Securing the hilt of his weapon, Han Sung looked up silently.

The unification campaign orchestrated by the Empire was coming to an end. The capital city, Malbork, stood as the final stronghold of the Teutonic Order.

Snow fell subtly in the twilight, weaving a whitish veil over the frigid sky of the winter season.

He had only just defeated Sir Vadel, considered the most formidable warrior of the territory and a devoted paladin to the Teutonic Order.

Thud!

A violent sharp pain assaulted him from behind. The freezing touch of metal. A blade pierced his ribcage, flashing with a bluish hue that foretold death.

“Damn it.”

Following a battle on the edge between life and death, the fate reserved for Han Sung was a thrust coming from the imperial ranks themselves.

“Excellent work, hero from another world.”

The sacred sword Durandal, wielded by Count Brandenburg.

“I anticipated this outcome.”

Han Sung’s organism was too exhausted to dodge the treacherous attack of those supposed to be his allies.

“Despicable traitors.”

Previously, he had managed to annihilate the Demon Sovereign in his role as a paladin.

However, that constituted merely the preamble. Subsequently, he became a simple war machine subordinated to imperial interests.

Having overthrown the Demon Sovereign and materialized the imperial desire to unify the continent under a single banner, what was the retribution?

Vileness.

“You have opted for a dignified demise alongside Sir Vadel,” pronounced Count Brandenburg.

A dignified demise? Han Sung found himself unable to manifest a grimace of irony.

“Your fervor and loyalty to the crown will be remembered by future generations.”

“Wow, even the high-ranking Korean military command would be stunned.”

Han Sung sketched a grimace laden with disdain, his lips covered in vital fluid. The weapon he held in his right hand seemed ready to strike the aristocrat at any moment.

Nevertheless, upon attempting to execute the movement, his physical structure refused to respond.

It was the Geas, the restriction spell originating from the White Tower.

“Wretches.”

A binding destined to control the paladin of the Empire, the tracker brought from another dimension.

“Who believes they have the right to call another a dog?” inquired the aristocrat with irony and contempt.

“Indeed, you all turn out to be worse than any beast.”

Han Sung uttered an additional insult.

His existence would conclude in that place, alongside the most outstanding warrior of the territory, whom he had just defeated in a duel.

The prolonged pursuit had reached its end.

Count Brandenburg, commanding the First Legion of the Empire, stood as the author of that vileness.

Han Sung collapsed to his knees in the frozen environment, resting his head on the snowy surface and depriving himself of sight. Despite the situation, his features reflected an unusual stillness and temperance.

He avoided directing any reproach toward the sovereignty that had turned its back on him.

The “Hero from Another World” interrupted his perception.

For his subsequent life cycle, he promised himself to transform into a Demon Sovereign, refusing to be a dispensable paladin who could be discarded without hesitation.

As the brilliance of his existence faltered, a small mineral fragment inside Han Sung began to emit a faint gleam.

And in that instant…

“My congratulations, Your Excellency! It is a boy!”

On a gloomy and freezing winter evening, an existence expired at the same time a new being began its journey.

“My congratulations, Your Excellency! It is a boy!”

The sharp exclamation of the midwife vibrated in his auditory canals. The affliction caused by the sacred sword Durandal dissipated as if it had never existed.

“In what place am I…?”

Han Sung attempted to examine the surrounding environment. However, registering movements in his physiognomy proved highly complex for him.

A dazzling, pure white clarity flooded everything, preventing him from focusing his sight. His understanding felt dense, as if he carried an enormous burden.

He discovered himself with ridiculous dimensions and lightness.

At that moment, a delicate warm garment sheltered him.

Han Sung rotated his small anatomy within the fabric, contemplating the lady cradling him. It was a young woman possessing a dazzling head of golden hair.

A countenance that seemed vaguely familiar to him. Given his previous condition as a dimensional paladin, Han Sung possessed knowledge of multiple relevant personalities in the court.

“I identify her as the descendant of a count…”

“You have made an admirable effort, Elena.”

“Elena, the descendant of the count who assumed the title of Duchess of Saxony!”

Upon perceiving the mention of Elena, Han Sung experienced a colossal mental shock.

Therefore, the male contemplating them with an affectionate countenance must correspond to…

The magnate who administered the former domains of the Demon Sovereign, now transformed into an imperial demarcation, established after Han Sung subjugated the demon king Balor.

Member of one of the three most relevant ducal lineages in the crown, the Duke of Saxony.

Finally, the questions found resolution.

“The transmigration process was successful!”

The definitive resource to detach himself from the tracker’s binding. The mystical object that Han Sung obtained with enormous difficulties, the “Stone of Rebirth,” had executed its task to perfection.

And he had returned to existence as the firstborn of one of the most exalted lineages of the Empire.

Nevertheless, the true relevance of the Duke of Saxon was considerably superior.

He governed the Black Tower, the epicenter of the necromantic discipline, located in Necropolis, the bastion of the dark arts.

The Regent of the Black Tower.

In other words, the Duke of Saxon constituted a shadow mystic and necromancer without parallel on the continent.

For that reason, he was known by the moniker “Black Lord.”

The assignment of the aristocrat to govern the former domains of the Demon Sovereign bore a direct relation to his capabilities.

The “Stone of Rebirth” made possible the transition of the spirit while safeguarding the intellect and previous experiences. In spite of this, it lacked the faculty to determine the arrival receptacle. Rebirthing in the bosom of high nobility or ending up helpless on the public streets as the offspring of a courtesan was a matter left entirely to chance.

However, fortune had smiled upon him with the most favorable scenario.

“I have initiated this existence with the greatest possible privileges.”

While Han Sung analyzed the facts coldly, the Duke of Saxony manifested unease.

“Midwife, the infant emits no sound whatsoever.”

Even the imposing Black Lord denoted vulnerability upon experiencing paternal anxiety.

“It is certainly unusual. His respiratory process is highly clear.”

“Does it not represent an unfavorable omen that a neonate avoids crying?”

“His respiratory vitals denote equilibrium, so there is no reason for alarm.”

The mature woman approached Han Sung. He executed a deep inhalation deliberately to evidence his optimal condition.

“Nevertheless, assuming Your Excellency’s concern…”

Smack!

The female, after removing Han Sung from Elena’s lap, proceeded to deliver a series of smacks to him.

“It is necessary to stimulate the infant until achieving his cry.”

Han Sung cursed internally while offering resistance. Nevertheless, the capabilities of an infantile and incomplete physiognomy were highly restricted.

“What a stubborn creature!”

Expressed the Duke of Saxony, manifesting bewilderment.

“Without a doubt, he has assimilated your firmness of character.”

Elena intervened, showing an expression laden with maternal affection.

“Allow me to try.”

Despite debuting in motherhood, she retained the delicacy typical of a lady of high lineage. Her subtle extremity headed toward Han Sung’s rear.

Han Sung, who had abstained from shedding tears since he left childhood behind, was finally forced to emit a resounding wail.

Dale of Saxon.

Just like new liquid that is deposited in new vessels, that constituted Han Sung’s unprecedented moniker in this second life cycle.

Dale, the principal descendant of the Duke of Saxon.

Under the constant protection of the ducal couple, “Dale” awaited the propitious moment. Sporadically, he captured the deliberations regarding imperial events held by his progenitors and the service staff.

As much as the intellect preserved through the mystical device remained unaltered, the infant’s physiognomy required development.

An extremely extensive and complex period of temperance. At the end of said interval, the first faculty that Dale mastered was verbal expression.

“Behold our little Dale!”

Elena manifested an excessive enthusiasm, typical of mothers convinced of their offspring’s exceptional capabilities. And said perception did not constitute a mere fantasy on her part.

Upon reaching four annual periods, Dale’s intellectual development proved formidable, fluently mastering both popular speech and the refined dialect of the imperial court.

Dale secluded himself in the library precinct of the duchy, examining volumes uninterruptedly.

“Principles and Praxis of Mana Perception.”

“Imperial Compendium on Mystical Tactics in the Military Sphere.”

“Interrelation Between the Rotation Frequency of the Mana Circle and the Development of Mystical Energy.”

“Analysis of Magical Optimization Through Calculation Structures.”

“Basic Principles of Runic Symbology.”

Various copies were transported from the capital city and different points of the continent attending to his requirements.

“Having such economic and social backing is truly advantageous.”

After concluding the review of a tome, Dale leaned against the wooden bookshelf, recalling his previous experiences.

When he manifested his capabilities as a creature exterminator on Earth and began to fight, he did so driven by a conviction: to safeguard the human species. However, in this reality, the scenario differed greatly.

Even if he unified the entirety of the dark hosts and creatures he eliminated under the identity of a paladin, the figure proved insignificant when contrasted with the quantity of his peers he eradicated while operating as the executioner arm of the Empire.

For that reason, Dale’s true north remained unalterable.

“I will dismantle the Empire employing my own capabilities.”

He pressed his lips subtly, consolidating his resolution.

It occurred in that precise instant.

Whoosh!

Just when his feelings of aversion and coldness threatened to manifest externally, a turbulence originated at the base of his extremities: a spiral of mystical energy.

“Trouble!”

His organism, still in development at four years old, influenced by the intensity of his internal experiences, generated an uncontrolled release of the underlying energy. Despite not having manifested it to his progenitors yet, Dale had gradually structured the foundations of a “mana circle” within his thoracic cavity.

Whoosh!

As the uncontrolled energy generated a turbulence similar to a gale, the furniture providing support to Dale began to collapse successively.

“Wow, I have certainly caused a considerable setback.”

He lay powerless amidst the disorder generated in the reading room.

“Dale.”

A familiar figure approached from the rear.

“What is the cause of such a mess?”

It corresponded to the voice of his progenitor, the Black Duke, Duke Sachsen.

Facing the disarrangement of tomes and wooden structures projected in all directions by the mystical release, Dale weighed what the typical reaction of an infant his age should be, opting to discard complex simulation. An ordinary minor would lack such deliberations.

“Have you provoked an emanation of the energy you harbor inside?”

“Well… I don’t know for certain. Suddenly, I experienced an unusual current under my feet…”

Dale adopted a posture of candor, emulating an infant oblivious to the extent of his own virtues.

Upon realizing the event, the Duke of Saxony emitted a declaration of absolute astonishment.

“You have managed to structure the foundations of a mana circle inside you…!”

The manifestation denoted a capital bewilderment, provoking an internal unease in Dale.

It was not unusual for infants to manifest a natural synchrony with the surrounding energy. In spite of that, even for those linked to lineages of mystical practitioners, it represented a highly advanced phase for a minor of four years. For this reason, he kept it under reserve from the ducal couple, awaiting a more ideal conjuncture.

Dale weighed the inherent risk of his capabilities. He understood to perfection that the demarcation between a gifted individual and an anomaly of nature was highly imprecise.

“Certainly, you are my descendant.”

Nevertheless, what the uneasy Dale found was the calm and suspicion-free countenance of the Black Duke, his progenitor.

“It constitutes a constant sorrow not being able to instruct you in the arts of necromancy.”

The Black Duke expressed himself manifesting a certain frustration, a nuance that Dale had not weighed previously.

Would the regent of the Black Tower, considered the most renowned necromancer in the territory, decline to pass on his knowledge to his own firstborn?

“For what reason is it not possible?” inquired Dale, continuing with his facade of ingenuity.

“I made a commitment to your mother that our offspring would avoid getting involved in my disciplines.”

The Black Duke’s features reflected a notable melancholy at the moment of speaking.

“Of course, no mother would desire her offspring to venture into the paths of necromancy.”

It was a guarantee granted to Elena, who had shown herself reluctant towards the gloomy fame that preceded the Black Duke during the courtship stage, despite the chronological gap existing between them.

There even circulated a picturesque tale about how the Black Duke and the entirety of the veteran members of the Black Tower attended the nuptial ceremony wearing garments of a completely white neatness.

In spite of everything, Duke Sachsen stood as the aristocrat of greatest prominence in the imperial structure. However, the concessions made in favor of the descendant of a noble of lower rank evidenced his profoundly affectionate nature.

A period of four years does not represent a brief lapse. Particularly when passing within the physical structure of a nursing infant and under the continuous shelter of his protectors, said interval was perceived as even more prolonged.

In this way, coexisting within the domains of the Sachsen lineage had revived in Dale sensations he considered extinct for quite some time.