Reborn as The Forbidden Emperor

A sharp, ragged breath tore through the silence. Kael's body convulsed as the pain of existence crashed into him. His lungs burned as if they had been void of air for centuries, and every nerve in his body screamed in agony.

Cold. Bitter, merciless cold gnawed at his skin, seeping through the tattered rags barely covering his frail frame. He clenched his fists, only to realize how weak his grip had become. His once-powerful muscles were gone, replaced by a sickly thinness.

'This is… my new body?'

He forced his heavy eyelids open. Moonlight, dim and weak, filtered through a cracked stone window, casting eerie shadows over the damp, moss-covered walls. The air reeked of mold and decay, an unmistakable scent of abandonment.

Kael slowly pushed himself upright, every movement sending dull aches through his limbs. His gaze darted around the small, prison-like chamber he was in. The bed beneath him was little more than a slab of rotting wood, barely covered by a thin sheet. Dust and cobwebs clung to the ceiling, untouched by time.

'A dungeon?' No—this was no prison, but it might as well have been. The chamber was barren, stripped of luxury, dignity, or even the basic comforts of nobility.

Then the system's voice echoed in his mind.

[REBIRTH COMPLETE: HOST SOUL SUCCESSFULLY INTEGRATED.]

[WARNING: CURRENT BODY CONDITION - SEVERELY MALNOURISHED, MAGIC CAPACITY: ZERO.]

[IDENTITY CONFIRMED: KAEL DRAX (NEW BODY: LOWLY PRINCE, OUTCAST OF HOUSE VALORIN).]

Kael's mind reeled.

A lowly prince? An outcast?

He had once ruled an empire so vast that kings bowed before him. He had stood atop the world, his name feared across continents. And now, he had been reborn as… a discarded prince of a fallen noble house?

A slow, humorless chuckle escaped his lips. Fate was mocking him.

But fate had made a mistake.

Kael Drax was not one to be discarded. He was a conqueror. A ruler. An emperor. And if this world had forgotten him, he would make them remember.

[IMPERIAL SYSTEM ACTIVATED.]

A translucent blue screen flickered before his eyes. Unlike the divine inscriptions of his past life, this was different—structured, efficient, almost mechanical.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

[IMPERIAL SYSTEM]

Host: Kael Drax

Title: None

Bloodline: Draconic (Sealed)

Strength: 1.2

Agility: 1.0

Endurance: 0.9

Mana: 0.0 (Sealed)

Authority: 0 (Disgraced)

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

His brows furrowed. Everything was at rock bottom. His legendary Draconic Bloodline, once the foundation of his empire, was sealed. His mana, nonexistent. His authority, stripped away.

Kael exhaled sharply. He was at his weakest. But that meant there was only one path left—to rise.

And he would rise.

Then, the system's voice echoed once more.

[FIRST QUEST ISSUED: RISE FROM THE ASHES.]

Objective: Escape your current predicament and reclaim a position of power.

Reward: +5 Strength, +5 Agility, Imperial Authority (Rank I).

Failure: Death.

Kael smirked. So it begins.

---

A Body Broken, A Will Unyielding

Kael swung his legs off the bed, his bare feet pressing against the freezing stone floor. The sensation sent a jolt up his spine, but he ignored it.

His first task was simple—understand his surroundings.

He shuffled to the tiny, dirt-smeared window and peered outside. A fortress. The crumbling outer walls and abandoned towers suggested an old noble estate—not a prison, but close enough. Beyond the gates, distant city lights flickered under the night sky.

A memory stirred within his new mind. House Valorin. Once a respected noble house, now fallen from grace. His new identity was that of an outcast prince, thrown into the shadows and left to wither.

'They abandoned me here to die.'

Kael's eyes darkened. That was their mistake.

He turned his focus inward, assessing his body. His limbs were weak, but not beyond salvation. Training, nourishment, and time would restore him. His mana was sealed, but that too could be broken.

'First, I need food. Strength. And information.'

A single candle flickered in the room's corner. Next to it, a rusted dagger lay forgotten on an old wooden crate. A weapon. It was pathetic compared to the legendary Crimson Fang he once wielded, but it was better than nothing.

Kael reached for the blade, gripping it tightly.

His fingers trembled.

A rush of humiliation surged through him. The hands that once gripped a god-slaying sword, now struggled to hold a rusty dagger.

No. He clenched his jaw. This is temporary.

A predator does not lament when injured. It endures. It adapts. It waits.

And when the time comes… it strikes.

---

The First Step Toward Power

A sound.

Kael froze, sharpening his senses. Footsteps.

Someone was outside his chamber door.

A low, mocking voice drifted through the wooden frame. "Still alive in there, little prince?"

Another voice laughed. "Waste of food. Should've let the rats eat him."

Kael's lips curled. Guards. Or perhaps former servants of House Valorin. They thought him weak. Defenseless.

Good.

He had no intention of waiting to be discarded like a beggar.

Kael tightened his grip on the dagger and moved toward the door.

The first step toward reclaiming his throne… started now.