Ravan sat alone on the rooftop, staring at his hands.
He clenched his fists. Weak. This body was too weak.
His past life's memories had returned, but his strength had not. The power of the Ashra King—the might that had once allowed him to stand against the gods—was locked within him, restrained by his 14-year-old human body.
He gritted his teeth.
Unacceptable.
A king did not tolerate weakness. If he wanted to reclaim his former power, he had to train.
—
The next morning, before the sun had fully risen, Ravan stood in an abandoned lot on the outskirts of the city. It was empty, silent—perfect.
He closed his eyes.
Breathe.
He searched within himself, calling upon the battle knowledge of his past. His stance shifted, naturally flowing into the form of an experienced warrior.
First, the body.
His training began with brutal physical conditioning. He pushed his body to the limit—running, jumping, striking—forcing his muscles to grow. He practiced every martial art he had mastered in his previous life, combining them into a fluid, deadly style.
One punch. Two punches. A thousand punches.
Hours passed. His arms burned. His legs screamed. His body ached, but he kept going.
This was nothing compared to what he had endured before.
—
Someone was watching.
Ravan froze mid-punch.
His instincts screamed—a presence, sharp and deadly, was nearby.
He turned, scanning the area. At first, he saw nothing. But then—
A figure stepped out from the shadows.
Tall, powerful, radiating an aura that sent chills down Ravan's spine.
This was no ordinary opponent.
The man smirked. "You've finally noticed me, Ashra King."
Ravan's eyes narrowed.
Who was this?
The man stepped forward, his energy crackling around him. "I've been waiting for you to awaken… so I could kill you."
Without warning—
BOOM!
The ground shattered as the man attacked.
Ravan barely dodged in time. The sheer force of the blow sent shockwaves through the air.
He's fast!
Ravan countered, launching a punch straight at the man's chest—only for his opponent to vanish.
A knee slammed into Ravan's stomach.
CRACK.
Ravan's body flew backward, crashing into a wall. Pain exploded through his ribs. His vision blurred.
Damn it… This body… is too weak!
The man loomed over him. "Disappointing. The legendary Ashra King… reduced to this?"
Ravan gritted his teeth. He tried to stand, but his limbs refused to move. His breath came in ragged gasps.
The man raised his hand for the finishing blow—
And then—
A dark presence filled the air.
A familiar voice echoed.
"That's enough."
The enemy turned just as black flames erupted from the ground. A figure stepped forward, his golden eyes glowing like embers in the night.
Lucifer.
He looked down at Ravan and sighed. "Still as reckless as ever, aren't you?"
Then, with a wave of his hand—
Dark energy surrounded Ravan, healing his wounds.
Ravan gasped as strength returned to his body. He looked up at Lucifer, realization dawning.
"You… saved me?"
Lucifer smirked. "Don't get used to it. I just can't let my rival die so easily."
The enemy warrior watched in silence, then chuckled. "Interesting… So you're protecting him, Lucifer?"
Lucifer's expression darkened. "You want to fight him? Then go through me first."
The air grew heavy.