Death had already claimed me once.
When I opened my eyes again, I had no hands, no breath, no name—only a blade forged from the memory of a fallen knight. Centuries passed in silence. I waited in shrines, armories, and dusty royal vaults, listening to legends of the man I had once trained: the Undefeated Knight, the Dragon Slayer who became king.
Then fate returned me to the world—not as a man, but as a sword in the greedy grip of his descendant.
The prince was fat, foolish, arrogant, and cursed with the blood of a hero he had never earned. He thought himself worthy of a sacred blade. He was wrong.
But I saw what others did not: potential buried beneath layers of laziness, fear, and wasted years.
If the kingdom would not make him a prince, I would.
If the gods had abandoned the first prince of Mangani, then I would rise through his flesh, take command of his body, and carve a legend into the world once more.
I did not become a sword to watch history repeat itself.
I became it to rewrite it.
And when the first prince finally stood, no dragon, no tyrant, no rival would remain untouched by his blade.