Reborn as The Forbidden Emperor

Three guards remained, their hands frozen over their weapons as they processed what had just happened. One of their own lay on the floor, a dagger buried deep in his gut, his blood soaking the stone beneath him.

Kael stood over the corpse, eyes cold, breath steady. He had no strength. No magic. No divine blessings. But none of that mattered.

Because he was still Kael Drax.

The first guard recovered from his shock, drawing his sword with a snarl. "You little shit! Do you know what you've done?"

Kael smirked. "Yes."

Then he moved.

The guard swung, aiming for Kael's neck. The attack was sloppy—too slow, too obvious. Kael sidestepped, the blade whistling past his shoulder. Before the man could recover, Kael lunged forward, driving his knee into the guard's ribs.

A gasp. The guard staggered, and Kael followed through, slamming his palm into the man's throat. The force crushed his windpipe, cutting off his scream.

Kael didn't hesitate. He grabbed the guard's own sword from his weakened grip and—slash—cut deep across his chest. The man collapsed, choking on his own blood.

The second guard finally reacted, lunging with his spear. Kael barely twisted in time, the blade slicing through his stolen cloak, grazing his ribs.

Pain flared, but he ignored it.

He had felt far worse.

Kael pivoted, catching the spear's shaft with his free hand, yanking it forward. The guard stumbled, and Kael brought the stolen sword down in a brutal arc.

Crunch.

Steel met flesh, splitting the man's skull.

The third guard took a step back, his confidence shattered. "M-Monster..." he stammered.

Kael tilted his head, wiping blood from his blade with slow precision.

"Monster?" His lips curled. "I haven't even started yet."

The guard turned to run.

Mistake.

Kael hurled his dagger. It spun through the air, embedding itself deep in the man's spine.

The guard stiffened—then collapsed.

Silence.

Kael exhaled, rolling his stiff shoulders. His body still ached, his strength still pitiful, but the old instincts had never left him.

He was still a predator.

Then—

[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION]

A sudden pulse of heat surged through his chest, a voice echoing in his mind.

[IMPERIAL SYSTEM UPDATE: FIRST BLOOD SHED.]

[CALCULATING INITIAL RANK...]

Kael tensed. The System had been silent until now. He had assumed it would remain dormant until he reclaimed true strength.

But something had changed.

The air around him shifted, crackling with unseen energy. His blood felt hotter, his senses sharper.

Then—

[IMPERIAL AUTHORITY UNLOCKED: RANK I - PRESENCE OF THE EMPEROR]

A wave of invisible pressure exploded outward.

Kael inhaled sharply. The sensation was indescribable—as if something long buried inside him had finally begun to stir.

The feeling of command.

Of absolute dominance.

His fingers twitched as raw power coiled beneath his skin. His wounds no longer burned as sharply. His exhaustion faded slightly.

He could feel it.

The first step toward reclaiming his former self.

But it was still just the beginning.

---

Breaking the Chains

Kael crouched beside the corpses, looting them with practiced efficiency. He found a better set of armor—still basic, but sturdier than the rags he had been wearing. A belt pouch yielded a handful of silver coins and, more importantly, a map.

He unfolded it, scanning the inked lines with narrowed eyes.

The Valorin estate. A sprawling fortress that had once been a seat of power—now little more than a decaying stronghold at the empire's edge.

His location? The servant's quarters. A forgotten corner, far from the main halls.

Kael smirked. Good. That meant fewer obstacles.

His next move was clear.

Step one: Escape the estate.

Step two: Regain strength.

Step three: Take back everything.

His fingers traced over a marked exit. An old servants' passage—a tunnel leading to the outskirts of the city.

Kael's golden eyes gleamed.

Perfect.

He strapped his stolen sword to his waist and moved.

---

The Path to Freedom

The corridors were mostly empty, save for the occasional distant voices. Kael walked with measured steps, keeping his posture steady, his movements precise. He looked like he belonged—like a low-ranking soldier going about his duties.

No one questioned him.

But as he approached the hidden passage, a familiar voice stopped him cold.

"Where is he? The little rat should be dead by now."

Kael's grip tightened around his sword.

He turned the corner and saw them.

Three men.

The first was Captain Ralven, the Valorin enforcer who had ordered Kael's imprisonment. A brutish man with a scarred face, his thick arms crossed as he questioned a trembling servant.

The other two were knights, their armor bearing the house sigil.

Kael exhaled slowly.

A fight was inevitable.

But something had changed. The moment Kael stepped into view, Ralven stiffened.

A flicker of uncertainty crossed his face. His gaze lingered too long on Kael's eyes.

Kael smirked. He can feel it.

The Imperial Presence.

It was still weak—just an ember of what it once was—but even at Rank I, it carried weight.

A whisper of command.

A fragment of authority.

Ralven shook off the hesitation, scowling. "You shouldn't be standing, whelp. You were supposed to rot in that cell."

Kael took a step forward, tilting his head slightly. "And yet… here I am."

His voice was calm. Confident.

Ralven's eye twitched. "I'll fix that."

He drew his blade.

Kael sighed. Fool.

The other knights hesitated. They felt it too.

Kael wasn't just standing. He wasn't cowering, wasn't pleading.

He was looking down on them.

And for the first time, they questioned.

Were they truly standing before a defeated prince?

Or was this something else?

Something greater?

Kael smiled.

"Come, then."

The first real battle of his new life... had begun.