Klein_Mercidi_123

In a world where power is etched into bloodlines and kingdoms rise and fall with the tide of magic, Klein Alaric Storm awakens to a second chance — one he never asked for. Once Klein Mercidi, a modern politician with grand ideals and a bullet in his heart, he now inhabits the body of a seventeen-year-old noble with magic coursing through his veins.

As the young Marquiss of the Storm Isles, Klein must navigate the treacherous currents of politics, war, and destiny. Pirates batter his shores, dark forces stir in the shadows, and the weight of two lifetimes pulls at his soul. Torn between who he was and who he must become, Klein struggles to wield his newfound power without losing himself.

But second chances come at a price. In a land where loyalty is fragile, love is dangerous, and power is everything, Klein must build a stronghold enough to weather the storm.

Marquess of the Storm

The city of Stormguard was under siege. Flames roared across the docks, consuming wooden structures and filling the air with thick smoke. The once-thriving port, home to thousands, was now a battleground of steel, fire, and death. Amidst the chaos, Claude, the Knight Commander, stood at the forefront, his golden hair catching the flickering glow of burning ships and warehouses. His valiant figure remained unshaken even as dozens of enemy pirates surrounded him.

These weren't ordinary pirates. No, Claude could tell from the way they moved—disciplined, well-trained, and with the stance of seasoned warriors. Worse still, four among them radiated power on par with formal level knights. Their armor, though mismatched, bore the faint traces of noble heraldry, perhaps fallen knights who had abandoned their oaths.

Claude exhaled slowly, his sword humming with blue arcs of lightning. "Stormguard stands. I stand. If you wish to take this town, you'll have to take my head first."

The enemy knights exchanged wary glances. Then, in unison, they struck.

The first lunged with a two-handed sword, aiming to cleave Claude in half. But the Knight Commander twisted his body, sidestepping just as his own blade crackled with lightning. With a single upward slice, he shattered the enemy's weapon and drove his fist into the knight's gut. A surge of electricity coursed through his foe, sending him crashing backward ten meters, his body convulsing.

The second and third knights attacked from both sides, one swinging an axe while the other jabbed with a rapier. Claude ducked under the axe's arc and caught the rapier's blade between two fingers, his aura-infused reflexes far beyond normal human speed. With a twist of his wrist, he disarmed the swordsman, then slammed his palm against the knight's chest, sending him flying with a thunderous shockwave.

The last knight hesitated for just a moment—enough for Claude to vanish in a streak of blue lightning. Before the enemy could react, Claude reappeared behind him, his sword slicing in a single, elegant arc. Blood sprayed as the pirate knight collapsed, lifeless.

Claude stood amid the fallen enemies, barely breathing heavily. He had fought numerous battles before, but something was wrong. Why did pirates—scum of the sea—have knights among their ranks?

Claude turned just in time to see a crimson-robed man step forward, his face twisted in a knowing smirk. His hands were wreathed in flames, and the air around him shimmered with unbearable heat. Behind him, a new group of enemy knights formed a deadly encirclement.

"You are strong, knight," the fire wizard sneered, "but even lightning has its limits."

Claude tightened his grip on his sword. Lightning sparked along his blade as he prepared to strike, but before he could move, the wizard's hand shot forward. A pillar of fire erupted from the ground beneath him, forcing him to leap back. He landed in a crouch, his boots skidding against the scorched wood of the docks.

Surrounded and suppressed, Claude knew he was in trouble. He had fought wizards before, but this one was different—more experienced, more controlled. And with knights at his back, Claude couldn't afford to waste energy recklessly.

Then, through the smoke and chaos, he saw them.

A lone figure walked onto the battlefield, his cloak billowing in the wind. Beside him, a silver-haired man, his blade resting on his shoulder, surveyed the battlefield with a calm yet razor-sharp gaze.

Relief flooded Claude's chest. He allowed himself a small smirk as he steadied his stance, knowing that the tides of battle were about to turn.

Chapter 2: The Knight’s Valor