A/N:
The update is here.
Thank you for your patience, understanding and continued support. Taking the time to do this properly mattered, and I appreciate you all for being here for it.
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Chapter 1 — Reincarnation.
Since ancient times, the world of auredor has always been plagued by war.
Be it born from the relentless struggle for evolution, the pursuit of power, or its multiple species clawing for dominance, the land had always burned with conflict.
From these endless struggles, thirteen races rose above all others: Humans, Elves, True Beasts, Nulls, Dwarves, Giants, Merfolk, Night Dwellers, Fae, Demons, Celestials, Spirits / Elementals and the Abyssals.
Together, they came to be known as the thirteen Major Races.
Each of them, though unique and special in their own way, solidified their position by having at least one mythical being in their ranks.
Myths were beings who stood at the very peak of evolution—entities of unrivaled might, their will uncontested, their existence alone capable of dictating the fate of countless lesser races.
It was in this world—Auredor—that a child was born.
A child whose existence would one day shake the world to its very core.
But such a time was still far off.
For now…
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"Waaahhh! Waaahhh!"
"Look—it's a boy!"
"Congratulations, Your majesty!"
"Move! Move aside—let me see my son!"
A deep, eager voice boomed through the chamber, followed by the arrival of a tall, broad-shouldered man who looked barely into his twenties. A short goatee framed his wide grin, and golden hair fell in loose waves as he practically sprinted toward the newborn.
"Good! Good! Haha! I finally have a son! A SON!"
He repeated it twice in one breath, laughter rolling out of him like thunder as he eagerly scooped the tiny infant into his arms and held him his happiest gaze when the crying abruptly ceased.
Two tiny black eyes blinked up at him. Looking cute and adorable.
But inside that adorable gaze swirled a mini storm of chaos and confusion.
'What the—? How did I get here? Didn't I die?
Where… where is this? Whoa!!! Is that a— giant?'
"Honey, bring him here! Let me see my son!"
"One more minute!" the man protested, turning his shoulder away like a jealous toddler.
"Honey!"
"Fine, fine—come on, boy. Let's meet your mother."
He carried the baby toward the bed, where a beautiful woman rested against silk pillows. Her skin was fair, her eyes a striking blue that held both warmth and depth. Dark hair spilled loosely around her shoulders, her natural elegance softened by exhaustion and pure joy.
She accepted the child into her arms, her expression melting into something impossibly gentle.
"He has your eyes," she whispered, smiling as though the world had never offered her anything more precious.
"Hahaha! Exactly! And just like me, I can already imagine the trouble he'll cause among the ladies!"
"Cheeky."
"It's the truth."
She shook her head faintly, though the smile on her lips only deepened as she gazed down at the child—her son.
Meanwhile, the infant—Sam—watched the exchange in stunned silence.
After observing the man and woman before him, a single, startling conclusion formed in his mind.
I've been reincarnated.
As ridiculous as it sounded, it was the only explanation that made sense.
He had been reborn, and the two people before him were his new parents—somehow.
As a modern person, the idea sounded impossible to grasp and even harder to believe. Stories of reincarnation existed only in novels and fiction.
And yet… here he was.
Alive again.
Literally getting a second chance.
The realization sent his thoughts spiraling
'Do I get a cheat? A mysterious grandpa in a ring? Or-or maybe the lost legacy of an ancient expert?'
The thoughts alone reignited a spark in his dead heart, one that had long since grown cold in despair.
Being alone on a hospital bed, literally waiting for death would do that to anybody.
But now… now he could begin anew.
No more counting days. No more helpless waiting.
The relief, the hope, must have been too much for his newborn body to handle because…
Waaahhh! Waaahhh!
His crying returned with twice the intensity, tiny arms flailing uselessly.
"Aw… are you hungry?" the woman cooed. "Come here, sweetheart. Let Mommy feed you."
She pressed him gently to her chest, instinct taking over as he latched on greedily, overwhelmed by both the strangeness and the comfort of it all.
"Oh my… how energetic."
"Of course," the man said proudly. "He's my son! He—"
"Stop bragging and give him a name already."
"Alright, alright. Hmm… how about… Azeroth?"
"Azeroth Clinton," the woman repeated softly. "It sounds good. Do you like it, little one?"
Sam—now Azeroth—froze mid-suckle.
That name… it sounded straight out of a fantasy epic.
His surprise must have shown, because the man nearly burst with excitement.
"Look! He likes it! Our son likes his name!"
The woman laughed gently, brushing a thumb across Azeroth's tiny cheek.
Azeroth stared up at the two of them — the towering, loud, embarrassingly proud father and the gentle, beautiful mother whose smile felt warm enough to melt stone. The reality of it washed over him like a tide.
This was real.
These people were his new family.
Slowly — still nursing — sleep claimed him.
His last conscious thought was a simple, fragile wish.
Maybe… just maybe… this time, it will be different.
He couldn't possibly draw the short straw twice in a row.
…Right?
His eyes closed, lips still faintly latched to his mother's breast, as the world of Auredor—and the House of Clinton—welcomed a new member into its fold.