The Beast Within was a grim tale, its protagonist Alexander Varnus born of scandal and betrayal. His mother, a beautiful dancer, had captured the heart of the current King, resulting in Alexander's birth. But the affair remained a secret, hidden away from the Queen—until the day she discovered the truth.

When the Queen found out, she didn't hesitate. In a move that shocked the palace, she ordered that the boy be sold into slavery, a fate worse than death. Her vengeance was absolute; the child of the King's indiscretion was cast into the brutal war against the Abissals—monstrous creatures that destroyed everything in their path. No one expected him to survive, much less rise above his station.

Thrown into the chaos of war, Alexander was forced to fight for his life. In a world where strength determined your worth, he was nothing but a boy. But years passed, and he adapted, becoming a cold and calculating warrior. His kindness faded, replaced by a ruthless survival instinct that would one day earn him the nickname "the Beast."

By the age of 23, Alexander was no longer a slave. He had become a weapon, feared by soldiers and creatures alike. With no compassion left in his heart, he returned to his homeland, fueled by an insatiable hunger for revenge. He cut through the royal family like a storm, slaughtering the King, the Queen, and every noble who had supported their tyranny. The bloodline that had betrayed him was erased, and with it, the Duke Ardent's name.

But amidst the chaos of this tale, Lucian Ardent, son of the Duke, was a mere footnote. Unlike Alexander, Lucian was nothing—weak, insignificant, and easily manipulated. His father, seeing no worth in him, sent him to the front lines of the Vornak war as a disposable pawn.

His fate was sealed when his convoy was ambushed and thrown from a cliff, leaving him badly injured and trapped for days. Yet somehow, Lucian survived, only to be sent to the Abissal War where Alexander's rage would end his life without a second thought. His death was almost laughably unimportant, swept aside in the story without any sense of gravity.

For most readers, Lucian's demise meant little. But to one person, it was a tragedy that couldn't be ignored—his sister.

In the dim tent, Lucian—no, the man inhabiting Lucian's body—remembered the rage in his sister's voice as she read the novel.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

He could almost see her, tears streaming down her face as she slammed the book shut. She had adored Lucian, seeing something in the character that no one else did. To her, Lucian was more than just a cowardly noble. He was misunderstood—cursed by the expectations of a cruel family who never gave him a chance.

'It was so unfair,' she had cried, wiping her face furiously. 'He deserved so much more. He wasn't like the rest of them, and they just threw him away!'

He hadn't cared much at the time, finding her outrage over a fictional character trivial. But now… now he understood. Now that he was Lucian, he could feel the weight of that disappointment pressing down on him. His sister's tears echoed in his mind, her fury resonating in a way he hadn't appreciated before.

'She was right,' he thought bitterly, sitting up in the straw bed. 'Lucian was weak, sure. But he didn't deserve to be tossed aside like that.'

His hand clenched into a fist as the reality of his new life began to sink in. This wasn't just some story to him anymore. This was his existence now, and he was trapped in the life of a man doomed to die a meaningless death.

Lucian—or rather, the man now trapped in Lucian's body—gritted his teeth, anger rising within him like a storm.

"Damn it!" he hissed through clenched teeth. "I'm not dying like some worthless fool. Not like this."

He swung his legs off the side of the bed, the straw rustling beneath him as he stood. His muscles ached with each movement, protesting his sudden action, but he ignored the pain.

Staggering slightly, he made his way to the cracked mirror at the edge of the tent. His reflection was almost unrecognizable, but that only fueled his frustration. This wasn't his body—it was the body of a man destined to be discarded, to be killed for simply existing.

"Pathetic," he growled, glaring at the pale figure staring back at him.

His hands went to the bandages wrapped tightly around his torso, pulling them off one by one. The cloth fell to the ground, revealing scars that marred his skin—deep, jagged reminders of whatever injuries had nearly taken Lucian's life. His chest was sunken, his ribs clearly visible beneath his ghostly white skin.

He looked like a walking skeleton.

"Seriously?" he muttered to himself, shaking his head in disbelief. "How did this body even survive?"

With a final yank, he removed the last of the bandages from his arms, wincing slightly as the cloth tugged against his sore skin. The cuts and bruises left behind made him look even more frail than before, but he didn't care. He was still standing, wasn't he? That was more than anyone expected from Lucian.

Finally, he reached up to his face, pulling the bandages from his head. Long, tangled locks of blonde hair fell around his shoulders, and for a moment, he stared at the unfamiliar man in the mirror. His face was sharp, the cheekbones prominent from the malnourishment. Pale blue eyes, colder than winter frost, stared back at him, filled with a quiet fury.

"This is me now?" he asked himself quietly, almost in disbelief. But there was no time to dwell on it. He had more important things to check.

His eyes flicked downward.

With a determined grimace, he reached for his waistband, pulling the trousers down slightly and glancing down. After a brief pause, he sighed in relief, muttering under his breath.

"I just had to be sure."

At least one thing in this new life wasn't a complete disappointment.