Prologue - To live without a goal is to live without meaning

Whao…

Atop a mountain covered in green, an old man dressed in the attire of an ancient scholar sat with legs crossed and eyes that stared out into the endless horizon. With each breath, a perfect rhythm of air circulated around the old man’s body while gentle winds blew past his cheeks, lifting every strand of white hair into the drifting clouds.

“I’ve lived my whole life searching the skies, yet my mortality forsakens me…” a soft voice escaped the old man's mouth.

Taking a deep breath in, the old man shut his eyes. Then after opening, a chilling aura permeated from his body. Within his eyes, there appeared the scene of falling skies and trembling grounds, roaring thunders and crashing strikes of lightning, and in all of this, a single man stood straight up with a bloodied body that seemed that it could flattened any minute. But against all odds, the figure of this man did not waver. It simply stood straight like a spear that pierced through the heavens.

Under the falling sky the man was not flattened. He pierced it.

By the strikes of lightning, he was not crushed. He bathed in it.

“I am but a man reaching for the stars; a mere mortal seeking the Celestials. My goal seems impossible and forever unreachable, but a life without a goal is a life not worth living!”

Throughout his life, this old man pursued only one goal: to reach for the stars. He did not want riches, nor did he want women. To reach the stars, this was his only goal, the thing he always wanted, but the heavens loved playing tricks. What he wanted, he could not have, yet what he did not need, he was given.

A goal of reaching the stars. To others, anyone bearing this goal would seem insane, but to the old man, such a goal was not impossible. In fact, to the old man, it was a goal worth dying for.

Letting out a cool breath, the man relaxed himself to the wind.

“The heavens defy me and now the shadow of death dawns upon me, but shall my next life come, the stars will enter my grasp!

In front of the stars, I am just an ant. But do I give up? No. I become Divine!”

Like the wind blowing past him, his life drifted away and his consciousness faded to a total blackness as he resigned himself to the course of nature...

***

Chapter 1 - Reborn

Whoosh!

Fires swept up high, engulfing the sky around it. The sound of crumbling wood and falling metal crashing to the ground bounced off the burning walls of the once grand mansion. Cracks climbed up the walls like snakes slithering up a tree until eventually--

Boom!

Whether it be the stone blocks that lined the room or the hanging lights on the ceiling, nothing could withstand the spell of destruction brought about by the roaring flames that swallowed the building. Nothing… except the body of a young boy the age of ten that laid on the ground. The clothes on his body had turned into ashes long ago, leaving only bare skin exposed to the heat.

Everything that fell from the collapsing mansion seemed to avoid this young boy. It was as if the space around this boy curved. A miracle. Every stone block that that fell pierced the ground like butter while the ashes spread across the room like birds blotting the sky. Yet none of these, not even a speck, landed upon the small body of this young boy.

Cough! Cough!

Amidst the ring of ashes that encircled the young boy, jets of black air violently shot out of the young boy's mouth. Following this, the young boy’s eyes opened to reveal eyes as dark as the night sky and as deep as the ocean floor.

“Where am I?” the young boy asked himself as a bewildered expression soon covered his face.

Forcing himself to sit upright, a burning sensation suddenly stormed all over his body.

“Argh!” a low shout escaped the young boy's lips.

Looking at his skin the entire surface was covered with lines that looked like lightning piercing through the sky. Each line carried within it extreme pain that could bring adults to the ground, yet to this young boy this pain only forced out a scream.

Gritting his teeth tightly, the young boy twisted his head and looked at the area.

“What’s happening here? Did I not die? How did I end up here?”

Questions popped up within the young boy's head, but no matter how much he thought, answers never came to him.

“Could this be some sort of illusion that comes after death? Has my soul transferred to the netherworld?”

The young boy began considering his situation. If this really is the netherworlds, does this mean he had been sent down into the legendary hell?

“Kyril…”

However, just as he was thinking, the young boy heard a voice calling beside him.

“Kyril?”

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Turning his head to the left, a bloody sight unfolded. Embraced by the arms of a middle aged man, a similarly middle aged woman with an appearance akin to a rotting corpse that was wrapped in brown robes was currently looking straight at the young boy.

“Kyril, my son… quickly... go…”

Blood poured down the middle aged woman's mouth with each word uttered.

“Kyril? Son?”

The young boy looked at the woman perplexed. “...What is happening here? Have my eyes been connected to someone else’s brain? How could I arrive from atop a mountain to here?”

The young boy became truly confused, but before he could think any longer, the middle aged woman muttered once again, “Hurry… go...or else he’ll find you…!”

“Find me?” The young boy thought.

“...Who will find me?” the young boy asked the woman.

The middle aged woman’s face scrunched as she lifted up a crooked finger and pointed in front of her.

Following the direction of the finger, the young body looked into the distance and although the flames covered most of his view, the figure of the back of a man cloaked in red carrying a wide bladed sword came into view.

“Who...?”

The young boy searched through his memories, but not a single image of the man came forth.

“Why does he want to find me?” the young boy asked.

No answer.

Shifting his head back to the woman, the young boy opened his mouth to ask again, but was interrupted by the expression plastered on the face of the woman. Wide eyed and pale. This was a face of fear.

When the middle aged woman noticed the young boy’s gaze, she quickly tugged the young boy's arm.

“Kill… Go… you must leave…!”

The middle aged woman's voice trembled and blood started to pour down like the waterfall.

“Kill? Am I not already dead?”

The young boy grew even more confused. How could he be killed if he had already died?

Unless…

“Have I been reborn!?” the young boy inwardly screamed.

At this moment the young boy finally understood why everything seemed so unfamiliar. This is not an illusion or the netherworld, this is all real! He was actually reborn!

“So I’ve been reborn into this child’s body…” the young boy repeatedly said in his mind. A feeling of excitement and motivation welled up inside him.

“Now that I've been reborn, I have another chance at achieving my goals!”

Once again turning his head to look at the now disappearing figure, the young boy clenched his fists. If what the middle aged woman said was true then if he was found, he would lose the second chance at achieving his goals!

“I need to get out of here, now that I've been reborn, I can't waste it!”

With this in mind, the young boy pushed himself up as his teeth grinded together and blood seeped through the cracks of his skin.

Seeing the young boy’s actions, the middle aged woman displayed a faint, yet relieved smile.

“Go… quickly… Leyra Bloodline… now upon… shoulders…”

Hearing the middle aged woman's voice which was continuously interrupted by the coughing up of blood, the young boy's heart pained.

“This middle aged woman must be Kyril’s mother…”

Since he had been reborn into Kyril’s body, this middle aged woman could also be considered his mother! He could not leave her to die while he escaped! But just as the young boy approached his mother, the young boy noticed a large piece of rock had embedded itself into the man who embraced his mother.

“This…  this man is probably Kyril’s  father…” Kyril stared at the man and then shifted his eyes to his back, “it's quite likely that the rock has also pierced through my father into my mother…”

The young boy’s face grimaced. Resolving himself, the young boy removed the robes of his mother and turned his back to the man and woman who were once his parents.

And as he walked, the young boy’s breathing calmed, while on his face, the sharp eyes of an experienced hunter replaced the naive look on the immature face of the young boy. His face showed neither sadness or anger, but a calmness rarely seen of his age. Anticipation of the life that awaited him welled up inside of him, yet there was also a burning desire to find out the killer of Kyril’s parents. To the young boy right now, this could be considered the payment for taking over Kyril’s body.

“I’ve reborn into a new world with a completely different history. I no longer go by the same name and I am not the person I was before…

From now on I live as Kyril!”