My name is Corbin Vance, a direct descendant of the Vance Clan.
We are a renowned family of Dragon Slayers, the most prestigious line of knights on the continent—so powerful that not even the Sovereign would dare to cross us.
In a family like this, any son who cannot become a knight is treated like trash.
That was me.
I was the first failure in the Vance Clan’s direct bloodline to never awaken.
The only one who failed the rite of passage, who never manifested an aura. To make matters worse, I was born a healer, a class utterly unrelated to slaying dragons.
A healer in the direct bloodline of a Wyrmbane family. It sounds like a cruel joke, but it was my undeniable reality.
And so, despite my lineage, I was treated like filth for my failure to awaken an aura.
As a result, at the age of fifteen, I was expelled from the clan’s academy, an institution that every Vance descendant was expected to graduate from.
To survive, to grow stronger, I wandered the continent and did anything I had to.
A certain sage once said: if you only pursue strength, you will have nothing left in the end.
What a load of bullshit.
It is a million times better to have strength than not. The truth of this world is that the weak are eventually trampled, their precious things stolen away by the strong.
That’s why I fought, clawing my way past my limits to become stronger.
If it weren’t for those damn Sovereign's Hounds, I might have become the strongest man on the continent.
I was the one who found it first—the ancient artifact the Sovereign was so desperately searching for.
I didn’t know exactly what it was, but for that continent-obsessed tyrant to seek it so fervently, it had to be something extraordinary.
To find it, I had endured a living hell in the Frostfang Peaks, a place so cold it could freeze the marrow in your bones.
But the moment I emerged from the dungeon, the Sovereign’s Hounds were already waiting. They cast their dragnet, and the chase began.
After more than a week on the run, they finally cornered me before the great Rimeshard Wall.
They cut off both my arms, then stood back and snickered as I writhed in the snow.
One of them took out a coin to decide who would have the honor of killing me.
I gritted my teeth. I crawled across the frozen ground, grabbed my severed right arm, and used Restoration.
The knight who had disarmed me was distracted, his eyes tracking the glint of the coin as it spun in the air. I crept up behind him and cut his throat.
He could never have imagined that I, a maimed and dying man, would reattach my own arm and rise again.
I defeated all his Hounds, but I was far from unscathed.
My stomach and back were riddled with sword wounds.
Not even a master of Restoration could mend injuries like these.
With a final, desperate effort, I picked up the dark dragon statue that had fallen in the snow.
Leaning against the cold stone of the Rimeshard Wall, I waited for a painful death, the secrets of the ancient artifact still locked away from me.
I had pursued strength my entire life, yet the power I truly desired remained beyond my grasp.
‘Damn it...’
Just as I was about to draw my last breath, strange letters materialized before my eyes.
[A strong will awakens the ancient power.]
[The soul of the Archdragon is imprinted on the soul of the one with the will.]
At first, I dismissed it as nonsense.
[The system detects danger to the Awakened.]
[Emergency measures are activated.]
[Do you agree?]
I’m dying. Who cares about emergency measures?
[Do you agree?]
Yes, damn it! I agree.
Woooong!
[Awakened agreement confirmed.]
[The irreversible promised power is activated.]
[Countdown initiated.]
[5, 4, 3, 2, 1]
"And when I opened my eyes, I was like this."
Corbin stared at his reflection in the mirror.
The face covered in scars and burns was gone. In its place was a handsome young boy with black hair, black eyes, pale skin, and delicate features.
Corbin, who had been in his thirties, had returned to the age of ten, at the most.
He glanced around the room.
‘I thought it looked familiar...’
This was the room he had used in the ‘cradle’ when he was young.
"Did I really go back in time?"
Corbin looked down at his small body.
He could still feel the phantom sensation of swords buried deep in his gut.
He examined his hands and feet.
‘Were my hands always this small?’
More importantly, they were almost completely unmarred.
He had wandered the entire continent; there shouldn’t have been a single part of his body without a scar.
Corbin wracked his brain.
"What in the world happened?"
Suddenly, he remembered the voice he’d heard in his fading consciousness, just before he died.
‘What did it say… emergency measure? Promised power?’
The meaning of the words eluded him.
"And to think I'm back in this crazy family..."
Corbin had fled the Vance Clan after being expelled from the academy at fifteen.
The Wyrmbane family was founded by the descendants of Alaric Vance, who had saved the continent a thousand years ago by beheading the evil dragon Vexathrax.
It was one of the three transcendent clans on the continent, a place where every member was blessed with aura and became an aura user.
Corbin had been born a direct descendant of that very clan.
‘They call it a Wyrmbane family, but this place is just an asylum.’
Corbin shuddered, recalling the things he had experienced here.
He couldn't understand why he had been returned to this terrible past.
"Sigh... I don't understand what's going on."
It was then.
[Administration System reactivating.]
[Confirming the Awakened's soul level.]
[Confirmed 100% soul match.]
[The soul of the Archdragon is completely fused with the soul of the chosen Awakened.]
[Acquiring partial authority of the system.]
[Status window access activated.]
‘What’s this?’
Letters floated in the air before him.
[Opening status window.]
Suddenly, a translucent screen of text appeared in Corbin’s vision.
[Low-rank Administrator Status Window]
Name: Corbin Vance
Class: Healer (Rare)
Title: Blessed by the Archdragon
Class Arts: Restoration / Iron Will / Vitality Surge / Preternatural Reflexes
Active Arts: Viper's Kiss [E-rank (Beginner)] / Flurry of Blades[E-rank (Beginner)] / Deathblow [D-rank (Beginner)]
Wyrmic Arts: (Unavailable - 10 Destiny Points required to unlock)
Current Destiny Points Held: 0
Corbin studied the words hanging in the air.
He tried to touch them, but his hand passed right through. It seemed to be a magically created image rather than a physical object.
He read the contents of the status window again.
"Healer class?"
He recalled the ancient knowledge his master had taught him long ago.
The ancients, his master had said, divided people into classes based on their potential and developed techniques suited to each.
‘Judging by the class and skills, this must be related to that ancient artifact.’
Corbin’s eyes fell on the word "Restoration" in the class skills section. On a whim, he shouted,
"Restoration."
Instantly, his hand was enveloped in a soft, white light.
Corbin stared, startled.
"I've already awakened my ability?"
In his previous life, he hadn't awakened his healing until he was over twenty.
Seeing that he could still use Restoration, Corbin realized his abilities from his past life remained.
"If I've awakened Restoration, then maybe...?"
Corbin closed his eyes and focused his mind. He felt a stir of mana near his solar plexus.
His eyes shot open.
"My Mana Font is open."
The Vance Wyrmbane Art of the Vance Family could only be learned after awakening one's aura and opening the Aura Core.
Since Corbin could never awaken his aura, he’d been unable to open his Aura Core and learn the true Wyrmbane Technique.
Instead, despite having the talent of a healer, he’d learned how to open his Mana Font and handle mana from his master.
‘I almost died learning this.’
Corbin moved his body, manipulating the mana within.
Whoosh!
He swayed, losing his balance.
His young body wasn't accustomed to the movements he remembered.
‘It’ll get better with practice.’
At least his situation was far more advantageous than it had been in his previous life.
He turned his attention back to the status window.
"Arts. What are these?"
Corbin pressed his finger on "Iron Will."
The screen shifted, and new text appeared.
—Skill Description—
Iron Will: Keeps the user's mind calm and unshaken in any situation.
Corbin tilted his head.
"So I have this skill besides Restoration."
Since the concepts of classes and skills weren't used in the modern era, he had never known what specific skills he possessed.
‘Is it thanks to the Iron Will skill that I’m not more affected by this absurd situation?’
Even Corbin had to admit he was remarkably calm, considering he had died horribly and then regressed in time.
He pressed the other skills in turn.
—Class Arts—
Restoration: Creates a healing light that restores wounds.
Iron Will: Keeps the user's mind calm and unshaken in any situation.
Vitality Surge: Replenishes lost health and reduces fatigue.
Preternatural Reflexes: Momentarily focuses the senses and increases cognitive speed.
After reading through his skills, Corbin tried using Preternatural Reflexes.
He felt his senses sharpen, as if time itself had slowed down around him.
He nodded.
"This sensation is familiar. I must have used it unconsciously during battle."
After checking his class skills, Corbin moved on to Active Arts.
—Active Arts—
Viper's Kiss (E-rank): Allows for more accurate strikes at the enemy's vital points, increasing lethality.
Flurry of Blades (E-rank): Allows for rapid slashing attacks while disrupting the enemy's vision.
Deathblow (D-rank): Allows for a critical attack on the enemy. However, failure can result in a counterattack.
Corbin pondered the list.
"Finishing moves? Secret techniques? Something like that?"
Having reviewed the active skills, Corbin pressed Wyrmic Arts at the bottom of the list.
But instead of a description, a new message popped up.
[Wyrmic Arts are unavailable. 10 Destiny points are required to view these skills.]
"Destiny points?"
It was a term he had never heard before.
Not even from his master, who was an expert on ancient knowledge.
Just as he was about to probe for more information about Destiny points, he heard a sound.
Knock, knock.
Someone was at the door.
As Corbin instinctively thought about dismissing the status window, the letters before his eyes vanished.
"Come in."
At Corbin’s permission, the door opened and a man entered.
He was a well-built old man with slicked-back white hair, a neatly trimmed beard, and a monocle perched on one eye.
Corbin froze.
‘Miles?’
Miles was a servant assigned from the main Vance household.
His eyes glinted sharply as he spoke.
"You're still not ready... What are you thinking, young master?"
Corbin’s body instinctively recoiled at Miles's sharp tone.
In the past, Corbin had harbored a deep, unconscious fear of the man.
But things were different now.
He was no longer an ordinary child.
Something appeared in his vision.
[Iron Will skill used.]
Just as he’d thought. It seemed the skills activated automatically depending on the situation.
Corbin, his composure restored, looked coolly at Miles.
"Ready? What are you talking about?"
Miles adjusted his monocle.
"Don't tell me you've forgotten about the evaluation test today."
Corbin started at Miles’s words.
‘Evaluation test...?’
Miles looked down at him.
"You need to hurry and prepare. You will lose points if you are late for the evaluation test..."
Corbin looked up and interrupted him.
"Miles, what's today's date? No, what year, month, and day is it?"
Miles stared intently at Corbin for a moment, then adjusted his monocle again. His voice was dry.
"It is October 14th, in the year 1035."
Corbin calculated the date in his head.
‘1035… I died in 1055. So it’s exactly twenty years ago. I’m twelve years old. And if it’s October 14th...’
Having pieced it together, Corbin looked back at Miles.
"Right. They always held the year-end evaluation in the cradle around this time."
Miles looked down his nose at Corbin.
"As I have said before, young master, it will be difficult for you to survive in the Vance Clan if you continue to avoid reality like this."
Though his voice was devoid of emotion, it held a sliver of sincerity.
Corbin looked up at him.
"Avoid? Me?"
He clenched his small hand into a fist, the knuckles cracking with a sound that didn't belong to a child.
"Why would I avoid it, when I've only just returned?"
A dangerous light flashed in Corbin's eyes.
"There are a lot of people I need to repay."