**Chapter 1**

**1. Childhood**

The Hero of Another World.

The savior from Earth who vanquished the Demon King Balor and freed the continent from the threat of demons.

Yet, the people of this world had a different name for Hanseong.

The Empire’s Hound. A merciless butcher.

Hanseong’s sudden summoning to this other world was no accident.

An ancient summoning ritual, meticulously prepared by the Empire’s magicians, was activated, and Hanseong, an SSS-class monster hunter and the supreme commander of humanity’s defense forces on Earth, found himself awakening in another realm.

He was nothing more than a tool to fulfill the Empire’s ambitions, reborn as a human weapon under the guise of a hero.

With the Demon King defeated, the Empire declared a continental unification war, with the “Hero of Another World” leading the charge.

* * *

Adjusting his grip on the sword hilt, Hanseong quietly lifted his head.

It was near the end of the Empire’s war for continental unification. The capital city of Malbork, the last bastion of resistance from the Teutonic Order.

Snowflakes drifted in the night, a mix of white and dark in the winter’s chill.

It was just after he had defeated Sir Vadel, the continent’s greatest swordsman and loyal knight of the Teutonic Order.

Thud!

A searing pain struck from behind. The cold touch of metal. A blade pierced through his chest, its edge gleaming with a deadly blue light.

“Damn it.”

After a life-and-death struggle, what awaited Hanseong was the blade of his own Empire’s forces.

“Well done, Hero of Another World.”

The sacred sword Durandal, wielded by Count Brandenburg.

“I knew this would happen.”

Hanseong’s body was too exhausted to dodge the treacherous attack from his own side.

“Backstabbing bastards.”

Once, he had succeeded in defeating the Demon King as a hero.

But that was only the beginning. Afterward, he became nothing more than a conquest machine to fulfill the Empire’s ambitions.

He had defeated the Demon King and achieved the Empire’s long-cherished dream of continental unification. And then?

Betrayal.

“You chose an honorable death alongside Sir Vadel,” Count Brandenburg spoke.

An honorable death? Hanseong couldn’t even muster a bitter laugh.

“Your patriotism and dedication to the Empire will be praised for generations.”

“Hah, even the Korean Ministry of Defense would be impressed.”

Hanseong sneered, blood staining his lips. The sword in his hand seemed ready to strike down the Count at any moment.

But as he tried to swing the hilt, his body froze.

It was a binding spell.

The Geas, a proud constraint of the White Magic Tower.

“Damn bastards.”

A leash to tame the Empire’s hero, the hound of another world.

“Who dares call whom a dog?” the Count mocked coldly.

“Yeah, you bastards worse than dogs.”

Hanseong cursed again.

He would die here, alongside the continent’s greatest swordsman, whom he had just defeated with his own hands.

The long hunt was over.

The executor of this betrayal was none other than Count Brandenburg, the commander of the Empire’s First Legion.

Hanseong quietly knelt, burying his head in the snow-covered ground, closing his eyes. Yet, his expression remained strangely calm and serene.

Without leaving a single curse for the Empire that had betrayed him.

The “Hero of Another World” closed his eyes.

In his next life, he vowed not to be a discarded hero, but a merciless Demon King.

As the flame of life flickered out, a small stone within Hanseong’s body began to emit a faint light.

And then──.

“Congratulations, Your Grace! It’s a boy!”

On a snowy, dark winter night, one life ended, and a new one began.

* * *

“Congratulations, Your Grace! It’s a boy!”

The old woman’s sharp voice rang in his ears. The pain from the sacred sword Durandal vanished as if it had been a lie.

‘Where am I…?’

Hanseong tried to assess his surroundings. But controlling his body was a struggle.

Everything was bathed in white light, making it hard to open his eyes. His consciousness felt heavy, as if weighed down by lead.

He felt absurdly small and light.

At that moment, a soft blanket wrapped around him.

Hanseong twisted his body within the blanket, gazing at the woman holding him. She was a young woman with striking blonde hair.

A vaguely familiar face. As a hero of another world, Hanseong had known many influential figures of the Empire.

‘I remember her as a count’s daughter…’

“You’ve endured much, Elena.”

‘Elena, the count’s daughter who became the Duchess of Saxon!’

Hearing the name Elena, Hanseong felt as if he’d been struck by a hammer.

Then the man looking down at them with gentle eyes must be…

The great lord who governed the former Demon King’s territory, now a province of the Empire, after Hanseong defeated the Demon King Balor.

A member of the Empire’s top three ducal families, the Duke of Saxon.

Finally, the pieces of the puzzle fell into place.

‘The reincarnation worked!’

The trump card to break free from the hound’s leash. The artifact Hanseong had painstakingly acquired, the “Stone of Rebirth,” had successfully performed its function.

And he was reborn as the eldest son of one of the Empire’s most prestigious noble families.

But the Duke of Saxon’s true value was more than that.

He was the master of the Black Tower, the pinnacle of necromancy, located in Necropolis, the stronghold of dark magic.

The Black Tower Master.

In other words, the Duke of Saxon was an unparalleled necromancer and dark magician on the continent.

Hence his moniker, “Lord Black.”

The Duke’s appointment to govern the former Demon King’s territory was not unrelated to his career.

The “Stone of Rebirth” allowed the soul to circulate while preserving memories and consciousness. However, it couldn’t specify the target of reincarnation. In other words, whether one was born as the eldest son of a noble or abandoned in the slums as a prostitute’s child was entirely up to fate.

Yet, he had been born with the best possible circumstances.

‘I’ve hit the jackpot with a golden spoon.’

As Hanseong calmly assessed the situation, the Duke of Saxon spoke with concern.

“Old woman, the child isn’t crying.”

Even the mighty Lord Black was helpless when it came to worrying about his child.

“It’s quite peculiar. The breathing is so clear.”

“Isn’t it a bad omen if a child doesn’t cry?”

“The breathing is stable, so there’s no need to worry about that.”

The old woman approached Hanseong. He deliberately continued to breathe deeply.

“But since Your Grace is concerned…”

Smack!

The old woman, having taken Hanseong from Elena, began to spank him.

“You must spank the child until he cries.”

Hanseong cursed inwardly, struggling in the old woman’s grip. But there weren’t many options for an incomplete infant’s body.

“What a stubborn child!”

The Duke of Saxon murmured in amazement.

“He must take after your stubbornness.”

Elena spoke with a mother’s smile.

“Let me try.”

Though she had become a mother, she still retained the innocence of a young noblewoman. Her gentle hands reached for Hanseong’s bottom.

Having never shed a tear since he matured, Hanseong finally had no choice but to burst into tears.

* * *

Dale of Saxon.

As the saying goes, new wine in new bottles, that was Hanseong’s new name in his second life.

Dale, the eldest son of the Duke of Saxon.

Under the devoted care of the Duke and Duchess, “Dale” bided his time. Occasionally eavesdropping on the Empire’s affairs from the couple, servants, and retainers.

No matter how intact the consciousness inherited through the artifact, the infant’s body was not.

A painfully arduous time of patience. And at the end of that patience, the first thing granted to Dale was language.

“Oh my, look at our Dale!”

Elena was overjoyed, as mothers often are, with her “my child is a genius” theory. And Elena’s “my child is a genius” theory was no mere maternal delusion.

At the age of four, Dale’s academic prowess was astonishing, as he fluently spoke both the Empire’s common language and the noble tongue.

Dale began to immerse himself in the ducal library, devouring books day and night.

“Basics and Applications of Mana Sensitivity”

“Imperial Military Tactical Magic Manual”

“Correlation Between Mana Circle Rotation Rate and Magic Power Generation”

“Understanding Magic Enhancement Through Formulas”

“Introduction to Rune Magic”

Books were procured from the capital and across the continent at his request, almost daily.

‘Being born with a silver spoon is indeed a blessing.’

After finishing a book, Dale leaned against the old bookshelf, reminiscing about his past home.

When he awakened his talent as a monster hunter on Earth and took up arms, in his past life, he fought monsters with a mission. Solely for humanity. But in this world, things were different.

Even if he combined all the demons and monsters he had defeated under the title of hero, they were nothing compared to the number of ‘humans’ he had slaughtered as the Empire’s hound.

That’s why Dale’s purpose never wavered.

“I will bring down the Empire with my own hands.”

He bit his lip softly, steeling his resolve.

It was at that moment.

Whoosh!

As his cold, sharpened hatred threatened to spiral out of control, a whirlwind formed at his feet. A vortex of magic.

“Damn!”

His still immature four-year-old body, swept up in the torrent of emotions, had unleashed the mana within him. He hadn’t yet informed the duke and duchess, but Dale had been steadily forming fragments of a ‘mana circle’ in his heart.

Whoosh!

As the runaway mana swirled like a storm, the bookshelves supporting Dale began to collapse like dominoes.

“Well, I’ve really done it now.”

He slumped down helplessly in the chaos of the library.

“Dale.”

A familiar presence was behind him.

“What is all this commotion?”

It was the voice of Dale’s father, the Black Duke, Duke Sachsen.

Amidst the chaos of books and shelves scattered everywhere by the mana storm, Dale pondered what a four-year-old should do, but quickly gave up. A four-year-old wouldn’t think about such things.

“Did you just release the mana within you?”

“Well… I’m not sure. Suddenly, there was a strange wind at my feet…”

Dale feigned innocence, like a child unaware of his own talent.

Watching him, Duke Sachsen let out a gasp of surprise.

“You’ve already formed fragments of a mana circle within you…!”

The astonishment in his voice was almost palpable, and Dale inwardly cursed himself.

It’s not unheard of for young children to naturally resonate with mana. However, even for those with a lineage of mages, it’s far too early for a four-year-old. That’s why he had kept it a secret from the duke and duchess, waiting for the right moment.

Dale understood the danger of his own talent. He knew that the line between ‘prodigy’ and ‘monster’ was razor-thin.

“Truly, you are my son.”

But what greeted the worried Dale was the unguarded smile of the Black Duke, his father.

“It is my eternal regret that I cannot teach you necromancy.”

The Black Duke spoke with a hint of regret, something even Dale hadn’t anticipated.

The master of the Black Tower, the continent’s greatest necromancer, refusing to pass on his craft to his child?

“Why not?” Dale asked, feigning ignorance once more.

“I promised your mother that our child would not follow in my footsteps.”

The Black Duke’s expression was tinged with deep regret as he spoke.

“Of course, what mother would want her child to become a necromancer?”

It was a promise made to Elena, who had been wary of his infamous reputation when he courted her, despite their age difference.

There was even a humorous tale of the Black Duke and all the elders of the Black Tower attending their wedding in pure white attire.

Despite everything, Duke Sachsen was the Empire’s foremost noble. Yet, the promises he made for the sake of a mere count’s daughter revealed just how much of a romantic he truly was.

Four years is not a short time. Especially when trapped in the body of an infant, under the care of family, those four years felt even longer.

Thus, life in the Sachsen household awakened emotions in Dale that he had long forgotten.