Rebirth

The 18th century was an age of steam and machinery, a time when swords and firearms still coexisted.

It was also an age of slavery, where human life was worth less than grass.

At night, the stars were hidden behind polluted gray mist.

Blank Port, an important harbor on the southern coast of the Hylia Federation, was often called Fog Port due to its constant, heavy fog.

In a grand manor on the outskirts of Blank Port, the owner was immensely wealthy and kept many slaves. Most were Black, but a few were Asian.

As for how they ended up in bondage, no one knew.

In the crude wooden hut where the slaves were kept, over a dozen people were crammed into barely ten square meters. The air reeked of filth, and lice infested their hair.

Flies buzzed like alarm clocks near their ears. Occasionally, rats darted through the already cramped space.

Suddenly, one of the slaves, a thin, sallow-skinned youth, opened his eyes and slowly raised his palm.

In it was a small pile of white powder. With a soft breath, he blew it out, and it dispersed into the air, spreading throughout the hut.

The sleeping slaves and the surrounding pests all fell into unconsciousness as the powder took effect. Only then did the young man clutch his head and groan softly.

"Damn it. The effects of the merged memories still haven't faded."

His name was Yang Mu. But in truth, he had once been Congreve Pine, a Moon Rank Undying Archmage from the mage world, who had been invading a plane called the Realm of Delusion.

During a battle with that plane's master deity, the Lord of Delusion, he tore through the boundaries of space. Both perished in the end.

By using the Law of Death, Congreve Pine's soul lingered briefly after death, before being pulled into an unfamiliar world. There, he merged with a young man named Yang Mu.

To be exact, he had absorbed the youth's soul. Their spiritual strength was vastly different, and the weaker one had no chance of resisting.

Still, since he now occupied the boy's body and spirit, he took the name Yang Mu.

Rising to his feet, Yang Mu stepped over the others and left the wooden hut, moving silently into the night.

Soon, he arrived at a patch of barren land where grass grew in uneven tufts. The vegetation here was unusually lush. As he approached, the earth stirred. Two Skeleton Warriors rose from the ground, clad in bone armor and wielding bone-forged blades.

This was the result of ten days of effort.

Although Yang Mu had once been a Level 6 Undying Archmage, his soul had fractured. The vast mental energy he once commanded had dissipated along with it.

Now, he had to rely on the ordinary Yang Mu's mental strength, barely enough to cast even the simplest necromancy spells like Skeleton Resurrection or Bone Armament.

Worse still, Yang Mu's magical aptitude was appalling. His mental capacity was average, his perception of elements nearly absent, and his natural affinity close to none.

Even his two innate superior talents, Entropy Balance and Endless Modification, were gone.

Entropy Balance allowed him to convert half of his negative conditions into beneficial ones. Endless Modification enhanced his undead creations, making them 20 percent stronger than those summoned by typical Undying Mages below Star Rank.

These abilities had once been the foundation of his rise.

But by the time he became a Level 5 Star Rank Mage at the age of two hundred, their effects had diminished to almost nothing.

Now, stripped of talent and power, Yang Mu faced a daunting path forward, but he wasn't worried. He had many ways to improve his meditation and recover his potential.

First, though, he needed the ability to defend himself.

The manor's owner, William James, was, according to Yang Mu's understanding, a shapeshifter. Without dissection, it was hard to determine the cause of his transformation: divine blessing, biological enhancement, or something else.

Whatever the reason, it was hereditary. The entire William family were shapeshifters. They appeared human but could transform into werewolves, either under the full moon or at will.

And not the frail, jackal-like breed, but true gray werewolves, prime combatants among beastman races in many worlds. Towering, savage, and battle-hardened.

As a result, deaths among the slaves were common at the William Manor. No fewer than a hundred corpses lay buried in the ground beneath Yang Mu's feet.

After wandering in a daze for two days following his arrival, Yang Mu found this place. With the little mental strength he had, he summoned two Skeleton Warriors from the shallow graves.

Since then, he had come here daily to strengthen them with bone armor, slowly enhancing their combat power.

Lately, the third young lady of the William family had been eyeing him with growing interest. Given her cruel disposition, Yang Mu sensed danger approaching.

Her name was William Losia. Among the entire William household, she was the most active, known for her love of tormenting and killing slaves.

From the memories he inherited, Yang Mu knew she had once set her sights on him. She had wanted to use his back as a canvas, believing his pale skin resembled parchment.

But her painting tools were carving knives.

Yang Mu had survived only because the manor's Butler had intervened. He had suggested Yang Mu be used as a breeding slave instead.

Though Asian slaves were less robust than Black ones and slower at manual labor, they were skilled with their hands and, more importantly, rare and expensive.

There were two other Asian women among the slaves. The Butler hoped to breed more Asian slaves. A single child of that lineage could fetch twenty silver coins, a high price.

Losia relented and picked an older male slave instead.

Half a month later, Yang Mu had buried that compatriot, mutilated beyond recognition.

That event had terrified the former Yang Mu, weakening his spirit and allowing Congreve Pine to take full control. Thus, the current Yang Mu was born.

Now, he had the Skeleton Warriors drag up more bodies from beneath the loose earth.

Channeling what little mental strength he had, he formed a spell model using incantations and gestures. Once complete, it absorbed surrounding dark energy and activated the Bone Armament spell.

Fragments of exposed bone flowed from the corpses like liquid, clinging to the two skeletons and reinforcing their structure.

When the spell was finished, Yang Mu returned to the filthy hut, lay down, and began sorting through the confusion in his mind caused by the memory fusion.

Tomorrow, he would stabilize his soul and spirit and begin practicing meditation again.

Before the sun fully rose, the other slaves awoke one by one to begin another day of labor.

Yang Mu did the same, quietly blending in. But before long, the Butler approached him.

"Yang Mu, come with me."

He set down his tools and followed, only to find himself face-to-face with the one person he wished to avoid.

William Losia, the third young lady of the manor.