Rise of the Reincarnated Sovereign

As Kael knelt on the blood-soaked battlefield, his body growing weaker with every heartbeat, his emotions churned in a storm of disbelief, anger, and sorrow. The searing pain in his side was nothing compared to the ache in his chest as he stared at Alaric, the man he had trusted with his life, now standing over him with a blade coated in his blood.

"Alaric," Kael whispered, his voice hoarse. He gritted his teeth, forcing himself to meet the commander's cold gaze. "Why...?"

Alaric's expression was unreadable, his dark eyes reflecting neither regret nor triumph. "Why?" he repeated, his tone almost mocking. "Because loyalty is a currency, Kael. And the Vorath paid far better than you ever could."

Kael's breath hitched, his mind racing through memories of their years together—fighting side by side, celebrating victories, mourning comrades lost. Alaric had been more than a subordinate; he had been a brother-in-arms, someone Kael had confided in, relied upon.

"You... you were like family," Kael said, his voice trembling with a mixture of pain and fury. "I trusted you, Alaric. I trusted you with everything."

"And that was your mistake," Alaric said coldly. He sheathed his blade, his movements deliberate, almost casual, as if the betrayal were nothing more than another calculated decision. "Trust blinds people, Kael. It makes them weak. And weakness has no place in the world the Vorath are creating."

Kael's fists clenched, his nails digging into the mud as he fought against the rising tide of despair. "You think... they'll spare you? You're nothing to them, Alaric. A pawn. The moment you outlive your usefulness, they'll discard you."

Alaric smirked, shaking his head. "Spare me your righteous lectures, General. You were always so self-assured, so convinced you knew better than everyone else. But look around you. Look at your men dying. Look at your precious kingdom crumbling. This is your legacy, Kael—failure."

The words struck like daggers, piercing through Kael's already fragile resolve. He looked around, his vision blurring as he took in the carnage. Soldiers who had followed him into countless battles lay dead or dying, their bodies strewn across the battlefield like broken dolls. The kingdom he had sworn to protect was burning, its people screaming as the Vorath rampaged through the ranks.

"I... failed them," Kael murmured, his voice barely audible. Regret washed over him in a crushing wave, threatening to drown him. He had prided himself on being a protector, a leader who would never abandon his people. Yet here he was, brought low by the very man he had trusted most.

But beneath the regret, a spark of anger ignited—a burning ember that refused to be snuffed out. "No," Kael growled, his voice gaining strength. He lifted his head, glaring up at Alaric with defiance burning in his eyes. "This isn't over."

Alaric's smirk faltered for a moment, his expression darkening. "It's over, Kael," he said, stepping back as the Vorath warlord loomed behind him. "You just don't know it yet."

The warlord's jagged blade descended, and Kael closed his eyes, bracing for the end. But even as darkness enveloped him, his thoughts refused to settle. Regret warred with determination, sorrow with anger. He couldn't accept this as his fate—not after everything he had sacrificed.

"If only... I could change it," Kael whispered, his final words laced with desperation and longing. "If only I had... another chance..."