Chapter Text
Cale stared at the ceiling his head still trying to process what fucking revelation just happened real time in4K for him, For starters:
One,
He died,
Two,
He made a deal with the God Of Death and got regressed,
Three,
He is pissed,
WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN OUT OF ALL THE POSSIBLE TIME HE CAN GET SENT INTO THE PAST, THAT BASTARD OF A GOD DECIDED TO SEND HIM AFTER THE PUNK BEATED HIM TO A PULP!
Shit
this is bad,
literally,
wait…
Basen..
Plaza terror accident..,
Red mage..
Redika…
Paralyzed…
BASEN WILL BECOME FUCKING PARALYZED BECAUSE OF THAT CRAZY BLOODTHIRSTY MAGE!
Cale frowned, his head is now spinning, he’s now having mobility difficulties because A CERTAIN PUNK DECIDED THAT BEATING HIM HALF TO DEATH WAS A BRILLIANT IDEA.
What to say, it was his fault as well, provoking the said punk who will soon become the kingdom's Hero and the youngest sword master in the Northeast Region .
Cale sighed , finally breaking his gaze before sitting up and turning his head to the trembling ex deputy butler .
”Oi, bring me wine and tell father I'm going out today,” Cale ordered, living up to his trash reputation even though it felt weird. After all war changes people and Cale was no less than a victim to it his colourful sharp toughed stayed though past trauma still lingered clinging to him like second nature.
”But what about your bath young master!” Hans remarked, a concern look plastered on his face.
”I can do that myself, I want something simple and tell him I’m only bringing you. “
Cale said, as he managed to stand up.
“but young maste-“
”Hans, DON'T TEST MY PATIENCE,”
“Eep, Yes young master!” Hans replied back bowing slightly before closing the door and rushing off.
—---------------------------------------------
Inside the study Cale could be seen scanning through the notes he wrote about major events happening. One good thing from The GoD was he was given his old memories from his past life though that doesn't make it any better.
Sighing in defeat Cale took his notes before burning them into the fire, he remembers everything anyways. Now time to fetch an ancient power.
Threads of eternity
A wood attribute ancient power he discovered while exploring the ruins of the once Henituse County in his past life.
Cale made use of the ancient power, but never openly; he preferred to keep his abilities in the shadows. It was a gift passed down strictly through his mother’s bloodline—a lineage that, much like the woman herself, remained shrouded in complete mystery.
Cale ran his hand along the bookshelf, his fingertips brushing past the leather spines before halting at a precise, unmarked spot. With a gentle press, a hidden panel popped open with a faint click. Tucked away inside the dark compartment was a journal, the one thing his mother had left for him after her passing.
Blowing off the dust, Cale examined the book carefully, slowly engraving every detail of the journal into his mind before opening it. A warm smile crawled onto his face as he read his mothers neat writing, flipping through the pages Cale stopped at an empty page located in the middle of the journal.
Cale bit his thumb hard enough to ensure that blood seeped through before gliding it across the blank page.
The world around Cale fades into a white void.
Something brushes against his fingertips.
A single silver thread.
Then another.
Soon, countless threads stretch endlessly into the distance.
A calm voice echoes through the empty space.
"Tell me."
The threads tighten slightly.
"What do you think a thread is?"
Cale answers without hesitation.
"Something fragile."
Silence.
Then a quiet chuckle.
"One thread is fragile."
The countless threads begin weaving together.
A bridge appears.
A net.
Armor.
A puppet.
Then the entire world seems to be held together by nothing but threads.
"But countless threads can bind dragons."
Another pause.
"A thread can save."
The bridge glows softly.
"A thread can kill."
The bridge becomes a razor-thin wire that silently cuts a mountain in half.
"A thread can connect."
The silver strings link people standing far apart.
"A thread can control."
The puppets bow.
The voice becomes almost amused.
"Those who see only a string deserve to be bound by it."
Then it grew softer.
"Yet every thread has a beginning..."
The tapestry before him suddenly tore apart.
Thousands of threads snapped at once.
"...and every thread has an end."
Cale watched without speaking.
The voice asked one final question.
"Then why do you still wish to weave?"
Cale closed his eyes.
"...Because I know where it unraveled."
"...This time..."
"...I'll weave it differently."
For a long while, nothing happened.
Then the countless threads slowly gathered around him.
They rested gently on his shoulders instead of binding him.
The voice spoke one last time.
"Then become the weaver."
"Not one who follows the tapestry..."
"But one who creates it."
The silver threads dissolved into light before flowing into his body.
Cale sighed softly as he was back in the study. The small wound on his thumb weaved back itself and the blank page on his mothers journal was now gone.
He's gotten one; four more to collect before his plate was balanced,
“My my…’
Cale blinked.
‘What?’
The Ancient Power ignored him.
"...Your plate."
Another long silence.
"...It is broken."
Cale answered flatly.
‘I know.’
"...No."
The voice sounded almost offended.
"...Broken is too kind a word."
"...Cracked."
"...Frayed."
"...Worn thin."
"...Held together by nothing but stubbornness."
The Ancient Power fell completely silent.
Finally…
"...How are you alive?"
Cale shrugged.
‘I've been asking myself the same question.’
Ancient Power sighed.
"...What sort of successor have I chosen?"
Cale answered without hesitation.
‘The only one available.’
"..."
"...That was not comforting."
The Ancient Power continued before Its voice softened.
"...You were never meant to bear this much."
"...The plate inside you is on the verge of snapping.”
Cale rolled his eyes.
‘I know that as well’
"...I shall keep the pieces from falling apart, until you find one who can.”
‘Sure im working on it’
Cale replied sarcastically; If someone saw him right now, one would think he’d gone crazy.
No lie he was past normal anyways
The Ancient Power let out another heavy sigh
"...Just try not to unravel yourself before you obtain it.”
‘Yeah yeah’
Cale replied.
Their conversation was abrupt by someone knocking on the door.
“Young master, the carriage is ready!”
Hans said, opening the door for Cale.
“Thanks, let's go”
Cale said before following Hans.
“Right this way young master!”
Hans said, guiding him to the main entrance where a luxurious carriage greeted them.
—---------------------------------------------
The carriage rolled through the estate gates, its wheels crunching softly against the gravel road before joining the main road toward Rain City. The morning breeze drifted through the open window as Hans skillfully guided the horses along the familiar route.
Inside the carriage, Cale leaned against the cushioned seat, listening to the steady rhythm of the wheels.
Hans...
In his previous life, Hans had remained by his side without complaint, even when there had been little reason to. Loyalty alone, however, was not enough in the future that awaited them. The enemies they would face would only grow stronger.
A capable servant was valuable.
A capable servant with the strength to protect himself...
That was priceless.
The corner of Cale's lips lifted ever so slightly.
There was something in Rain City that suited Hans far better than it ever had him.
The Indestructible Shield.
A power that existed not to destroy, but to protect.
Located in the slums of rain city.
"Young Master?" Hans calle
d through the carriage window after noticing the unusual silence. "Is everything alright?"
Cale opened his eyes.
"Nothing."
Cale turned his gaze toward the passing scenery.
The carriage continued along the busy toward Rain City, where a long-forgotten legacy patiently awaited its next owner.