Chapter 7 Stolen Months

The cold steel of the heavy broadsword pressed right against my throat. A single drop of warm blood trickled down my neck. The forest was completely silent except for the heavy breathing of the men surrounding me. I slowly raised both of my hands into the freezing air. I could not see the fifty rebels hidden in the thick grey fog, but I could absolutely feel their eyes watching my every single move.

"I asked you a question," the deep voice growled behind me. "Give me one reason why I should not kill you right now."

"Because I am the man you are looking for," I answered. I kept my voice perfectly calm and steady. "I am Valen. I am the true Dragon King."

A harsh and bitter laugh echoed from the man holding the sword. The sharp blade pressed just a tiny bit harder against my skin.

"The King is dead," the man said angrily. "Malakor poisoned him and left him to rot in the ruined courtyard. We saw the thick black smoke. We heard the royal bells ring for the new ruler. You are just a dirty spy wearing stolen clothes."

"Take a good look at me, General Kaelen," I said slowly. I knew his name from the System warning earlier. I had to use it to shock him. "Let me turn around."

The sword pulled back just a fraction of an inch. That was all the permission I needed. I slowly turned around to face the man who was threatening to kill me.

General Kaelen was an absolute giant of a man. He proudly wore the ruined and bloodstained silver armor of the old royal guard. His face was covered in thick, angry scars from countless brutal battles. He glared down at me with pure hatred in his dark eyes. But as he looked closely at my face, his tough expression suddenly changed. His eyes widened in absolute shock.

He saw my piercing emerald green eyes with their vertical predator pupils. He saw the shimmering dark green dragon scales growing along my forearms. These were the undeniable and magical marks of the true royal bloodline.

"It is impossible," Kaelen whispered. His massive hand actually trembled as he lowered his heavy sword. "The dark poison should have stopped your heart. The assassins should have taken your head."

"They certainly tried," I said with a grim smile. "But I am much harder to kill than my treacherous brother thought."

Several men stepped out of the thick fog. They were dressed in torn leather and broken armor. These were the surviving loyalists. They looked hungry, tired, and deeply suspicious. Their weapons were dull and heavily chipped. They had been hiding in the freezing rain for days, waiting for a miracle. They stared at my glowing eyes and whispered quietly among themselves.

"Anyone can use dark magic to change their eyes," Kaelen argued stubbornly. He gripped his sword tightly again. "Malakor has many wicked witches on his payroll. If you are truly King Valen, tell me something only he would know. Prove it right now before I strike you down."

I froze. I was a modern man who had just transmigrated into this alien body a few hours ago. I did not have all the childhood memories of the real Valen. The System had given me a few flashes of the past when I consumed the soul of the assassin, but it was mostly intense combat training. I needed to think incredibly fast.

I closed my eyes and focused hard on the fragmented memories buried deep inside my new brain. I searched for absolutely anything related to the giant man standing in front of me. Suddenly, a very clear image flashed in my mind. It was a memory of a massive battle from ten years ago.

I opened my eyes and looked directly at the thick silver armor Kaelen wore.

"You have a terrible burn scar shaped like a crescent moon on your left shoulder," I said loudly. "You got it ten years ago when you threw yourself in front of a magical fire blast meant for my father. You saved his life that day, and he gave you that silver armor as a royal reward."

Kaelen stopped breathing entirely. The heavy broadsword slipped from his fingers and crashed loudly onto the wet dirt. He fell heavily onto one knee and bowed his head perfectly straight.

"My King," Kaelen said softly. His rough voice was thick with heavy emotion. "Forgive my treason. We thought we had lost you forever."

The fifty rebels hiding in the fog stepped completely out of the shadows. They dropped to their knees in the cold mud.

"Stand up," I commanded firmly. "We have a kingdom to take back."

Before he could reply, the ground shook violently. Hundreds of heavy boots stomped in perfect unison. The false king's army had found our camp.

Kaelen snatched his heavy sword. "Defensive circle!" he roared. "Protect the King!"

A bright blue System screen suddenly popped up.

[Warning: One thousand elite soldiers approaching. Survival chance zero. Unlock Advanced Magic? Cost: One month of your lifespan. Penalty: Immediate physical decay. Your golden scales will crack and violently bleed.]

I stared in absolute horror. Burning my life would cause agonizing physical pain. Through the fog, a giant man riding an armored wolf arrived. He smiled a wickedly cruel smile.

"What a beautiful prize," he laughed loudly.

I looked at the blue screen and then at the giant flaming hammer. The System was waiting patiently for my final answer, and the monstrous wolf was already preparing to leap.