Reborn as the Dark General

Chapter 2

The repetitive drip of water echoed, falling from an old, leaking faucet, hitting the cracked floor with a slow rhythm—almost slicing through the silence. The stench of urine mingled with the pungent aroma of rusty metal, creating a stuffy air. The pale yellow fluorescent light flickered lazily on the ceiling, casting somber shadows on the stained ceramic walls.

In the corner of the room, a young man lay slumped.

The uniform wrapped around his body was torn at the chest, bloodstains fouling his collar. His face was bruised, his lips cracked, and an open wound adorned his temple. His body looked thin and fragile, while his breathing was weakly ragged.

A wheelchair lay not far away—one of its wheels badly bent, as if it had been kicked hard and toppled over.

The toilet was quiet. Only the sound of dripping water... and the ragged breaths from the weakly slumped body.

His eyelids twitched, then slowly opened, revealing a pair of sharply glowing red eyes. He stared at the dull, cracked ceiling, the flickering light dazzling him and making his pupils narrow.

His chest felt tight. When he tried to move his hand, his shoulder creaked in pain. His fingers trembled as they touched the cold, damp floor.

He tried to sit up. A searing pain spread from his spine throughout his entire body. Slowly, he closed his eyes, trying to channel the magic within him. But... nothing responded.

"Azalius..."

He repeated his mantra once more. But still, no change. He took a breath, focused his consciousness, gathering more dark energy into his core. Moments later, his eyes opened wide.

Panic surged.

Empty. No energy vortex. No magic waves. Total void.

"This... is impossible..." he whispered in disbelief.

He raised his hand in front of his face—and his eyes widened when he saw the unfamiliar, thin, and weak hand. It was clearly not the muscular hand he had trained for decades.

Aiden clenched his jaw. His gaze sharpened toward the overturned wheelchair not far from him. His breathing felt heavy.

"What is that thing?" he growled softly.

He stretched out his hand, uttering a simple mantra, aiming it at the strange object.

"Azmora..."

Silence.

The wheelchair stayed put. Unmoving. He tried again, this time with shadow manipulation magic.

"Velix Umbra—move!"

Nothing happened.

He scoffed, groaning in frustration. With a hardened jaw, he angrily pointed at the wheelchair.

"Tsk..."

"So... even inanimate objects ignore me now."

Aiden stared at his palm—for a long time, as if hoping to find something familiar. His fingers clenched tightly, nails digging into his skin until it almost bled.

"What... what exactly happened to me?" his voice was hoarse, almost a whisper of pain.

And suddenly—

Sret!

A maddening wave of pain slammed into his head. As if a sliver of bamboo was tearing directly into his brain. He collapsed to the floor, hands trembling, clutching his head.

Sret! Sret! Sret!

Fragments of memories assaulted him erratically. Unfamiliar faces. Voices that weren't his. Screams, taunts, curses, all pounding him relentlessly, creating a vortex of alien emotions emanating from the depths of the body he now inhabited.

"You useless cripple!"

"Loser! Just die!"

"You're just a burden. Even your mother is ashamed to have given birth to you!"

Aiden's body stiffened. His teeth gnashed, resisting the pain that slammed from inside his skull. But the pain was soon replaced by something far more horrifying—

A much clearer memory emerged.

This body... the young man's body he now occupied... was dragged from a campus hallway by two boys. Beaten until almost dead. Blood stained his face. Harsh laughter echoed. His wheelchair was pushed and kicked hard. His head hit the hard floor—then everything went dark.

And his soul... vanished. Died with its suffering.

A slow laugh flowed from Aiden's throat—not a laugh of happiness, but a bitter reflection and emptiness clotting in his chest. Vengeance slowly ignited within him.

"I will repay all of this... with blood," he muttered lowly.

The faces of his troops haunted his mind again. One by one. Those he led... who called him general, were now just dust flying in the Valley of Euphoria. Vion—who had last called his name in a dying shriek. Ten thousand loyal souls... all sacrificed in one night for a king's ambition.

The king he protected.

The king he saved.

The king who turned out to be a demon with a human face—who fed on the power of those most loyal.

What was even more painful was the voice of the people.

The very people who once worshipped his name now spat on him. They called him "Marako's demon." They were the ones who lit torches, burning his name in the town square.

He was betrayed. Trapped. Buried with slander.

Aiden clenched his fingers.

"...So I'm alive again... in a body abandoned by its soul's owner."

He touched his chest. He could feel it—the presence of his own soul... embedded in this foreign body. But there was no energy vortex. No core. Not a single spark of magic.

This body... was completely empty.

Trash.

No wonder the owner of this body couldn't fight back—not even when insulted and trampled by foolish brats whom, with a flick of his finger in the past, he could have crushed in an instant!

Why was this body so weak? Even in his lifetime, he had never encountered a single body that couldn't channel magic at all.

Totally crippled.

Fate was truly toying with him.

After losing everything, he was now thrown into a new life in the most despicable body imaginable.

His eyes stared at the cracked wall with a gaze as sharp as a sword's edge.

There was no choice.

He had to start from scratch.

His hand clenched at his chest. He could feel the heat of vengeance clumping there.

Whatever its form, he would use this body. He would rekindle his power, lift himself from the mud, and make King Alaric pay for the ten thousand soldiers he turned to ash.

"I'm back..." he whispered, his voice trembling but full of determination.

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

Loud knocks echoed on the metal door, slicing through the silence and jarring Aiden's ears. His gaze immediately snapped to the source—sharp and piercing.

What was behind there?

Were those cowardly brats back to beat this body again?

If so, this time... he'd retaliate. Manifold. This body might be weak, but it had given him new life. That was reason enough to defend it.

"Mr. Aiden?! Sir! Are you in there?!" A girl's panicked voice, filled with anxiety, pierced through the door.

Aiden's gaze narrowed. A tension crept into his eyes. This place was unfamiliar... and she called his name? Who was she?

CRACK!

The old door burst open. An 18-year-old long-haired girl stumbled in. Her uniform was neat, her magic school robe flowing with her hurried steps. Her breath hitched as her eyes swept the room, then widened when she saw Aiden sprawled on the floor.

"Mr. Aiden! You—I thought you were...!" Her bag dropped. She ran towards Aiden, her face pale, almost crying at the sight of the boy she called 'Mister'.

But Aiden's hand shot up instantly, roughly batting away the small hand that tried to touch him. How dare this strange girl touch him?

"Don't touch me." His voice was cold. Sharp. Full of distaste.

The girl, Eri, froze. Her hand hung stiffly in the air. Her face suddenly turned pale, her body trembling as her blue eyes met Aiden's fiery red gaze, full of menace.

That stare burned. The man's aura before her felt alien, terrifying. No longer the awkward, timid youth she knew.

Those eyes... they weren't ordinary human eyes.

They were a predator's.

"W-What are you... who are you really?" Eri murmured softly, slowly stepping back. Her heart raced wildly, her breath caught in her throat.

Aiden ignored her. With great difficulty, he dragged his body forward. His numb legs forced him to crawl like a wounded animal—yet still burning like a beast stalking its prey.

“I won't repeat myself. Who is the owner of this body? And where... exactly am I right now?” His tone was sharp. Serious. Non-negotiable.

Eri backed away again, her back hitting the wall. She flinched. “M-Mister... is this really you? You look... different... not like the master I know…” her voice was faint, stammering.

“You—you might have memory loss from the injury to your head... But—master, please... don't look at me like that…”

Aiden’s gaze darkened. His breathing began to quicken.

“Don't call me master! I am not your master! Answer my question—now!”

Eri trembled even more. Her eyes widened, almost tearing up from the pressure of the man she once respected.

“W-We're at Altaer Academy…” her voice was faint. “And I... I'm your personal servant. Master, you... you're a student here. But after the lab accident, you disappeared for two days... I looked for you everywhere... until—until I thought you were already…”

Aiden snorted softly. His breath was heavy. His gaze pierced Eri—full of suspicion, anger, and deeply suppressed disbelief.

“Academy... Altaer?” he hissed. His brow furrowed deeply. “I know every inch of Euphoria—from Eldros Tower to the northern ruins. There was never a place with a name like that.”

Eri swallowed hard. “M-Mister… you sound like someone from ancient fairy tales…” she whispered, her face paling.

Aiden’s gaze narrowed. “Are you underestimating my mind?”

“No! That's not what I meant!” Eri hurriedly took a deep breath, feeling confused and nervous. “Euphoria… that only exists in magic history books. An ancient land that collapsed... centuries ago, Master.”

Aiden's world seemed to freeze.

His pupils constricted. His entire body tensed, as if he'd just been stabbed by frozen ice to his bone marrow. His breath hitched. Nausea crept into his throat.

“No... This isn't possible…” he muttered. “I just fought... sacrificed myself... I saw the sky shatter and mountains crumble... how could... the world have changed?”

What was this? A cruel cosmic joke? He was sure he had set his reincarnation correctly. But... a different century?

His head throbbed. He closed his eyes, searching for answers in the darkness. But when he opened them again, his breathing was still ragged. His eyes were full of suppressed confusion and madness.

“So... there's no King Alaric here?” he asked in a low voice, but full of pressure. “Tell me. Where is he? He's immortal. He can't be gone! He must still be here... hiding!”

Eri's face grew more panicked. “M-Mister! Please... calm down! It seems... your head is really badly injured!” She touched her own temple anxiously. “We have to go to the clinic. Now!”

A Humiliating Reality

Without waiting for permission, Eri swung a small, pale blue magic wand. The air around the broken wheelchair vibrated, then—ZRAK!—the chair was whole again, glowing faintly from the spell's effect.

With a levitation spell, Aiden's body floated lightly. Before he could protest, he was 'forcibly seated' in the wheelchair.

"What are you doing?!" Aiden roared, his face flushed crimson. "Put me down now! Do you think I'm some weak creature who can't stand?!"

He tried to rise—but his knees instantly buckled. His body fell back into the chair, his hands gripping the armrests tightly.

"Hah... this...!" his breath hitched. "I'm not this weak... I'm not—not this body..."

"You're paralyzed, Master!" Eri replied quickly. "You can't walk. So, please... sit down. Don't push yourself."

Aiden fell silent.

This body... was paralyzed?

He had initially thought this body couldn't walk just because of trauma from the previous assault. But... the reality was, this body was indeed crippled?

Himself—Aiden Hartmann. Commander of Ten Thousand Soldiers. Slayer of thousands of enemies. Now... sitting in a small, wheeled iron chair, pushed by a young girl with loose braids and a face too innocent for this cruel world.

It was an unimaginable humiliation.

His jaw clenched.

Not only had he lost his magic... this body was also paralyzed.

A pitiful combination that left him... almost speechless.

But silently, his hands clenched.

As long as his soul remained—everything could be fixed. He just needed one thing: his power back.

King Alaric...

You haven't won yet. I have returned.

And I will hunt you down... even if this world is no longer the place I knew.