Rise of the Dragon Emperor

Ch 3 - reincarnation

Year 1030 of After-Demon-God era

The continent of Vinyamar The Egruneian Kingdom and its capital, the Citadel,were located in the Norvenia region,towards the north-east side of this land.

It was here that a mother and child lived modestly but happily in a small home.The mother was a lovely and charming woman,and her son was comparably cute in an androgynous way.

On one spring day...

"HHey mom. Why do we have black hair? No one around us has black hair." The little boy peered up at his mother with golden-colored eyes.Indeed,there were no other black-haired people in the city they lived in. Because of that, the two of them were treated as rare birds in their neighborhood.

His mother looked troubled by his question.

"You're right, Kyle," She said, taking a while to respond. "Perhaps it's because we came from somewhere far away."

Kyle said, "Do all the people who live there have black hair?

His mother answered, "Yes, that's right. It's not just you and me. Your father's hair was black too.

and so was your grandmother's and grandfather's hair."

Her son, whose name was Kyle,had asked so curiously—his mother couldn't help but smile as a result as she answered him. Seeing her smile made the boy so happy,making him smile back at her. To the young boy, who was just about to turn five years old,his mother was everything.

Kyle said, Huh, I 'd like to meet grandma and grandpa someday."

"Yes, that'd be nice," the mother replied. "I'll take you to see them when you get bigger. They are in a place called the Dulcan region.

Her smile had become troubled again as she spoke.

"Really ? You promise?" Mmhm. I promise."

******

Three years later, in the year 1033 of the After-Demon-God era, Mid spring.

In the slums of Citadel, the capital of the Egruneian kingdom, lived a small orphan boy. He was curled into a corner of a dark and shabby wooden shack, and the air was dry and chilly.

"Hah...hah..."

The boy panted for breath,his cheeks bright red. He groaned openly,tormented by his nightmares.

The dirty rags he wore on his body were soaked through with sweat; at just a glance, it was clear that he had a fever. There were traces of multiple people living in the run-down shack,but none of them were present to nurse the sick boy. Who knew how long the boy had been alone like this? He was alone, left lying on the cold floor in a single layer of clothing. It wouldn't have if he'd liked this. And yet—

At one point,a warm,gentle light began to shine and embrace the boy's body. It's warmth was different from the heat of the fever that had been tormenting the boy.

This heat was warm and comfortable enough to entrust oneself to. The color rapidly returned to the boy's face, and his breathing evened out. For some reason,the fever that ailed the boy's body was gone,and the light that covered his body disappeared with a subtle flash.

"Mmh.."

The boy blearily opened his eyes sometime later. Lying on his back,he blinked until his vision cleared and a dimly lit wooden ceiling came into focus. His mind was still hazy,as there was a fog preventing him from thinking clearly. The fever was gone, but not without consequence. He was still weak and had yet to recover his strength and stamina.

Overwhelmed with fatigue, the boy stared blankly at the ceiling. His mind managed to recover to a point where he could process his thoughts again. Pushing his weary body to stand,he started to process the situation.

"Ugh..."

A dull pain ached in his whole body, making the boy wince. It might have been a result of the fever he had caught or perhaps from sleeping on the cold, hard floor. A glance around at his surroundings revealed a dismal room with some shabby furniture placed in the middle.

This is

a room he was very familiar with,the boy thought... And yet, something inexplicably felt out of place. He knew he'd live in this room for a while now.

But he was also seeing it for the first time. It shouldn't have been possible,but it was almost as if there were two people's consciousnesses within him.

Something just didn't feel right—or rather, something was muddled with his memories. As he looked around the room in a daze,a sour smell suddenly pierced his senses. The boy noticed the rags he was wearing were soaked with sweat. He furrowed his brow, his mind now awake. With a deep breath, he collapsed back on the floor and felt like lying down for a little longer. He lifted a hand to place it again on his forehead, but in the next moment, he gasped loudly and stared intently at his hand.

It was definitely his hand—the small hand of a seven-year-old boy. But it was weird. There was something wrong with it.

Ignoring the headache pounding in his head,the boy kicked his hazy brain back into gear.

A child's hand... I... Wait, I?...

Kyle—tthat was the boy's name. He was an orphan living in the slums of the Egruneian capital, sworn to take revenge. That was why he had grasped at straws to survive up until this point. That should have been the entirety of Kyle's existence.

So why did he have another person's worth of memories? The memories of a person living in another world in an unfamiliar civilization with technology he didn't recognize