Kael jolted awake with a gasp, like surfacing from deep water. His heart thundered in his chest.
Not again.
He blinked hard, but the nightmare hadn't ended. The ache in his ribs was still there. The scent of blood and smoke still hung heavy in the air. The rough canvas overhead swayed with the soldiers and wounded ones moving around.
This wasn't a dream.
He looked down at his hands, larger than he remembered, the skin roughened with calluses, the knuckles slightly scarred. These hands felt foreign, yet obeyed him like they always had—as if they'd always belonged to him.
A cold dread crawled up his spine.
This was real.
They were calling him Prince Kael or something. That wasn't his name. He knew it wasn't. His name—his real name—what was it? He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to grasp it, but his thoughts slid through like water. Nothing came.
All he could remember was that cursed warehouse. The shouting. The cold steel of a gun pressed to his head. The thugs yelling over each other as they beat him senseless. He'd lost. He owed. And they dragged him into that place like a dog.
He'd thought he was still there when he first woke. The chaos outside the tent, the smoke, the shouting—it all felt the same.
Now he was here, in a stranger's body, in a world filled with monsters and magic, being called royalty.
There were monsters that looked torn from nightmares, glowing cards that hovered in front of him, soldiers who had saluted with fear in their eyes, and a spectral knight with a sword that should not have existed.
He was in someone else's life.
Panic surged. He gripped the blanket like it might anchor him, but it didn't. Nothing did.
He was still here.
Around him, the low hum of voices stirred.
"He's awake..."
"Did you see it? That thing with the sword?"
"They said the prince called it."
Figures shifted beyond the canvas walls. Shadows. Armor clinked softly with movement.
One soldier braved the silence and leaned closer, voice tight with awe and fear.
"Your Highness... do you feel any pain? What was that creature?"
Kael clutched his head, groaning because the sharp pain in his bandaged shoulder surged back into focus, real and biting.
"I… I don't remember anything."
Kael had no answers but he could feel the tension coil in the air. Reverence twisted with suspicion. One wrong move, and awe could become accusation.
The flap shifted again.
This time, a woman stepped through. She was tall, strikingly beautiful, with cropped dark hair and sharp eyes that scanned Kael like a puzzle to be solved. She wore armor lighter than the others, with a strange emblem stitched near her collar.
"You're awake, Your Highness," she said with a bow. Her voice was smooth, calm but Kael heard the careful control underneath it.
"Yeah," he replied hoarsely.
She stepped closer, her expression unreadable. "Can you remember what happened? What is that monster who protected you?"
Kael forced a neutral look, masking the panic swirling underneath. He closed his eyes, slow and unsure. "I don't remember anything," he said.
One of the soldiers spoke quickly, trying to make sense of it. "Must be that concussion he got during the first attack."
Ryze stepped closer, her sharp gaze now edged with concern. "Do you remember anything at all?" she asked.
Kael shook his head.
Inside the tent, the atmosphere shifted sharply. Soldiers began shouting over one another, voices rising in alarm.
"He lost his memories?!"
"Is he still fit to lead?"
Ryze raised her hand sharply. "Silence!"
The noise dwindled into murmurs. Her eyes were on Kael, but her voice was for everyone.
"His name is Kael Aleric Velimont, third son of the royal family Velimont, of the Kingdom of Aphdel."
Kael's throat went dry as he looked around at the anxious faces, their tension sharp in the smoke-scented air.
She turned back to him. "Does that sound familiar to you?"
Kael shook his head once.
She drew in a breath and looked at him closely, as if weighing something. "You forgot your name," she said, her voice low, "but you fought like someone who knew exactly what he was doing."
Kael managed a faint smirk. "Maybe muscle memory is royal, too," he said. "Or maybe I'm just that good."
Her eyes narrowed slightly, but she didn't press further. "I'll bring a healer," she said, already moving toward the tent's exit.
Before she could leave, Kael asked, "What are they going to do?"
She shrugged one shoulder. "I don't know. Crack open your skull and see what's left?"
He glanced at the rusted metal tools lying on a nearby tray and the warped lantern hanging crookedly from the tent pole. Whatever passed for medicine here didn't inspire confidence.
Yeah, no. He'd stick to this lie. Kael sat up a little straighter, grasping for anything to shift the topic.
"What happened to the monsters?" he asked, his voice rough.
Ryze blinked once, then tilted her head. "Monsters? You mean... the magical beasts?"
Kael hesitated. "Uh... yeah. Magical beasts."
She studied him a moment longer, then gave a short nod, like filing the odd choice of words away for later.
"Most of them were killed or driven off," she said. "The knight, whatever it was, cleared half the field. But there's talk of more breaches. Bigger ones."
Then, as she pushed open the flap again, she added over her shoulder, "Try to remember who you really are, Your Highness."
The tent quieted. For a moment, Kael lay still, turning over what she'd called them—magical beasts. The term felt ridiculous. Monsters made more sense. Monsters killed you. Magical beasts sounded like something you fed sugar cubes to.
He let out a slow breath. Ryze unsettled him in a way he couldn't shake.
He didn't know what he hated more: that he couldn't remember anything useful, or that every second here made him feel more like an impostor.
He didn't wait for the healer. Something in the air was shifting—again.
Then he saw it.
A new card hovered at the edge of his vision. It was red-tinted and glowing faintly. As he stared, it pulsed once, like it sensed him watching.
The 5 of Flowers.
A strange pull stirred in his chest, matching the rhythm of his heartbeat. It didn't just shimmer. It called to him. Kael reached toward it slowly, breath caught. The moment his fingers brushed the air near it, the card brightened—warmer, closer, almost familiar.
He snatched his hand back.
Beneath the cards, the golden coin shimmered like a waiting eye. A number flickered beside the glowing stack: [0%]
No one else seemed to notice.
Outside, the mood was uneasy. Kael heard the soldiers murmuring beyond the tent walls.
Then—
A horn blared.
Screams followed.
Kael threw off the blanket and pushed to his feet. Pain slammed into his shoulder, sharp and sudden. He groaned, the bandaged wound flaring with heat as he clutched it. Dizziness crept in, his vision swimming. Two nearby soldiers rushed toward him, trying to stop him.
"Your Highness, please—you're still too weak," one said urgently.
Kael grimaced and steadied himself. "I need to see what's happening outside."
The soldiers exchanged looks, clearly impressed despite themselves. One of them stepped aside without another word, while the other moved to support him.
The sky outside was stained with smoke, the sun dimmed to a sickly haze. Soldiers scrambled across the encampment, barking orders and dragging weapons. Someone ran past him with a bleeding arm. Another stumbled while hauling a wounded man by the shoulders.
The earth trembled under Kael's feet.
And in the distance, emerging through the haze and silhouettes, shadows grew. Towering shapes. Roars split the air again—deeper, heavier, almost guttural. Not just one creature. Many.
Kael's stomach dropped.
"Not again," he whispered, the words scraping out before he could stop them.
The smoke parted—just enough for him to see one of the shadows fully. It moved on too many legs. And it had no face.
The 5 of Flowers flickered in response, a pulse echoing through his bones.
[System Cooldown: Awaiting trigger]