His father.
Valerius Ardyn.
Nineteenth generation head of House Ardyn.
A Primordial-tier warrior, bordering on Ascendant. A man said to have severed a Veyrith Leviathan's crystal heart with a single swing. The kind of man who shaped nations by speaking once.
And now he came to visit his wife.
And his seventeenth son.
The pressure hit Kael before the man even crossed the threshold.
He couldn't move. Couldn't breathe.
This was mana not wielded—but commanded. It didn't roar. It resonated. Controlled with terrifying elegance.
In his past life, Kael had never seen such mastery.
He watched through infant eyes as the giant of a man stepped in, removing an obsidian overcoat etched with spellscript and embedded with glowing mana crystals. He was broad-shouldered, silver-eyed, with hair like coal woven with stormlight.
Valerius didn't smile.
He merely looked at Kael.
And Kael—Kael stared back.
For one suspended second, their eyes locked.
A newborn… and a legend.
No words were spoken. None were needed.
So this is what power becomes when it has time to grow, Kael thought, awestruck.
For three years, Valerius had not stepped foot in the manor.
He did not concern himself with matters that didn't shake continents. Wars. Treaties. Abyssal incursions. System fluctuations. Those were his battlefield.
The cries of a newborn? The lineage of his seventeenth child?
That was left to others.
Yet now, here he stood. In the nursery.
Silent as obsidian.
Kael felt it in his bones. Even in this fragile body, he knew: this wasn't fear—it was the ancient instinct to yield. To something absolute.
Valerius Ardyn was not a man.
He was a presence.
Each step on the mana-woven floor echoed like a war drum in Kael's chest.
He lay still in the crib. No need to lift his head. Even blind, he would have felt the approach—like gravity shifting to make way.
Lady Seris stirred weakly on her recliner, offering a tired smile that didn't reach her eyes. "You came," she said, her voice thin as mist.
Valerius gave no reply.
He simply stood before the crib and looked down.
At him.
Kael's heart slowed.
The air seemed thinner.
This wasn't a greeting.
It was a test.
Not of strength. Not of skill.
But of essence.
Valerius wasn't here to speak. He was here to see. To feel.
What will he sense in me?
Kael reached within. Barely.
He brushed against the dormant embers of his mana—not enough to stir the air, but enough to whisper: I am not ordinary.
Valerius's eyes narrowed.
The silence cracked.
Something shifted in the room—a pressure change, like the breath before a storm. His aura pressed inward, brushing against Kael's newborn soul like a hand sweeping dust from old glass.
Not invasive.
Not cruel.
But heavy.
Unrelenting.
Timeless.
And then…
Valerius blinked.
Just once.
His silver eyes flickered.
He turned.
No words to Seris.None to the child.
He walked away.
Kael's breath returned slowly, like surf receding from shore.
His tiny fingers curled into the silk blanket, trembling.
He didn't recognize me.
Of course not. Why would he?
That man… he's beyond what I ever became.
In his first life, Kael had clawed upward through instinct and grit. Makeshift blades. Broken limbs. No guidance. Just survival.
But Valerius—
He doesn't fight mana. He thinks with it.
Like reflex. Like breath. Like a second heartbeat.
Kael lay there for hours afterward.
The servants resumed their routines. Seris drifted into dreamless sleep.
And Kael?
Kael stared at the ceiling while an artificial night sky projected constellations he didn't recognize across the crystal dome.
If I had time... back then… could I have reached that level? Could I have surpassed it?
It doesn't matter anymore.
Now, I've been given a second life.A real start.A stable body.A noble house.
So watch me, Father.
No one remembers my name from the old world…
But I'll make sure everyone remembers it in this one.