ShadowofUmbral

In the world of Aetherion, where magic, spirits, and powerful noble houses dictate fate, a young man from Earth finds himself reborn as Averis Ravenshade, the firstborn of the feared Duke of the North. But there’s a problem—Averis isn’t a hero. He’s a villain, a stepping stone in the tale of a regressed imperial princess destined for greatness.

In his past life, Averis was an ordinary teenager who lost all hope, only to awaken in a world of grandeur and danger. Marked by his silver-white hair and piercing red pupils, he is the heir to one of the empire’s mightiest houses. But with his tragic fate already written, he refuses to be a mere obstacle in someone else’s story.

Armed with knowledge of the future, a mysterious system.

With war looming, demons lurking in the shadows, and power-hungry nobles plotting against him, Azriel must carve his own path in a world where only the strong survive. But as he struggles between revenge and redemption, he must ask himself:

Can a villain truly live again? Or is he doomed to fall once more?

This is the tale of Averis Ravenshade, the villain who refused to die.

Requiem of the Forsaken reborn Villain

The cold morning air bit at my skin as I stood at the edge of the training grounds, staring at the vast field of compacted dirt.

It had been two years since my mana awakening, since my bond with the Frost Raven deepened, since I learned to balance spirit energy within my unstable core.

In that time, I had been molded into the perfect heir—an elegant noble, a proficient spirit tamer, a child who could recite ancient texts without faltering.

1. "Father, I want to learn the sword."

The clang of metal echoed through the courtyard as my father, Duke Aldric Ravenshade, parried a strike from the Knight Commander, Garret Blackthorne.

Their duel was fierce—pure strength against experience. Each clash sent vibrations through the earth.

I watched in silence, my small hands clenched at my sides.

The knights around them were awestruck. Their gazes followed the Duke's every movement. He was like a storm—unwavering, merciless, absolute.

When the duel ended, Aldric turned, wiping sweat from his brow. His crimson gaze landed on me.

Then, he smiled—sharp, amused. "You are still young."

"And what will you do with a sword, my son?"

I met his gaze head-on. "I will master it."

Something flickered in his expression. Approval. Amusement. Curiosity.

Then, he laughed. A deep, rumbling sound.

The knights around us straightened, surprise flickering across their faces.

Aldric wiped his blade clean, his eyes gleaming. "Your training begins tomorrow."

The morning air was frigid. The sun had barely begun to rise.

I stood in the training yard, facing Sir Garret Blackthorne, the Knight Commander.

He was a veteran of countless battles, his face marked with scars, his gray eyes like a blade honed to perfection.

"Run." His voice was like steel. "Until I tell you to stop."

The first few laps were easy. My body had always been strong. I had high stamina thanks to my refined mana circulation.

But by the tenth lap, my legs started to ache.

By the fifteenth, my breath came in ragged gasps.

By the twentieth, the world blurred.

Knights whispered from the sidelines. "He'll collapse soon."

The cold wind whipped against my face, my feet pounded against the dirt, and my heartbeat roared in my ears.

I staggered to a stop, my chest burning. Sweat dripped from my face onto the cold ground.

Sir Garret walked over, his boots crunching against the dirt.

Then, he nodded. "Good. You did not break."

A wooden training sword was placed in my hands.

Garret observed my grip. "Too stiff. Loosen your wrist."

"Feet apart. Knees slightly bent."

A wooden blade crashed against mine, the impact jarring my entire body.

"A sword is not just about swinging," Garret said, stepping back. "It's about surviving."

4. A Noble, A Spirit Tamer, and Now A Swordsman

The training lasted until the sun hung high in the sky.

My body ached. My muscles screamed.

The wooden sword felt like lead in my arms.

As I collapsed onto the ground, breathless, I found myself grinning.

The Frost Raven materialized beside me, watching.

"You push yourself harder than most."

I closed my eyes, my grip tightening around the sword.

"Because I don't want to be 'most.'"

And now, I had begun walking the Path of the Blade.

23:The Path of the Blade