The Regressed Heir of Ravencrest

"What do you mean?" Ethan asked, keeping his tone even, though a sudden spike of tension gripped his mind.

His thoughts immediately flashed to the System. The existence of the System was something he could neither speak of nor reveal directly to anyone. The System itself imposed strict restrictions on him, barring him from speaking of the future or disclosing its presence. Yet Ethan didn’t blame it; it had granted him a second chance—a precious opportunity to rewrite fate. But that gift came with the heavy burden of shouldering the hidden threats alone, a weight he would gladly carry over and over again.

Until his strength crossed a certain threshold, he could only influence events indirectly. The System had made one thing clear: its restrictions would loosen only as his power grew.

Ding!

Ding!

[Significant Accomplishment Achieved.]

[Notification.]

A translucent golden screen suddenly materialized out of thin air, floating directly between him and the Mage Saint.

"That..." Iris said, her eyes narrowing.

Ethan’s pulse spiked. Can she see it?! The timing of the System’s notification couldn’t possibly have been worse. Slowly, taking a steadying breath, he raised his finger and pointed toward the floating golden screen.

"This...?" he asked reluctantly.

"Hey, kid," Iris said, tilting her head in confusion. "Why are you pointing at the empty air?"

Ethan froze, his finger still suspended in the air.

"I’m talking about the thing in your pocket. Bring it out," Iris said.

Ethan remained silent for a few seconds before finally speaking up. "Lady Iris, do you understand what you are saying?"

"Bring out the artifact in your pocket. This kid... he isn’t as innocent as I thought," Iris giggled, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

A subtle twitch touched the corner of Ethan’s lips. The System was invisible to her after all.

Reaching into his inner pocket, Ethan slowly withdrew the small, enigmatic piece of black metal. Having already taken it from Marcus in this timeline, the metal had now restructured itself into a sleek black ring adorned with intricate ancient runes and delicate patterns across its band.

"You know about it?" Ethan asked, holding it tightly in his palm.

"What do you think, kid?" She smirked, floating a few inches off the ground as she crossed her arms.

The moment she tried to dodge the question, Ethan made a deliberate motion to slip the ring back into his tunic.

"Okay, okay!" Iris held up her hands, rolling her eyes. "Seriously, you’re just as impatient as your grandfather."

She settled back onto her feet, her gaze lingering on the dark piece of metal with rare, profound seriousness.

"That is something your grandfather recovered from an ancient ruin—a place you already know of," Iris began, her voice taking on a distant, reflective tone. "He couldn’t identify the artifact or even recognize the metal from which it had been forged. But he could tell it was something extraordinary. He felt a distinct, innate pull toward it, realizing it was somehow related to the Ravencrest bloodline. He eventually brought it to me, hoping my arcane research could unravel its origin."

She sighed softly, a faint pout crossing her beautiful face. "Even though I researched it for years, I couldn’t learn a single thing beyond two facts: it is an artifact that actively chooses its owner, and that black block is not its original shape. But that alone didn’t satisfy me. I hate mysteries I cannot solve."

Iris leaned in slightly, her violet eyes locking with Ethan’s. "No matter how many grand spells I used, it revealed nothing. I even searched the ruins myself to see if I could uncover its secrets. Then, one day, your grandfather returned, took it from me, and claimed that one day, someone from the Ravencrest bloodline would be chosen by it. But I didn’t want to part with such a fascinating puzzle... so I left a tiny, undetectable magical mark on it. And imagine my delight when I sensed that very mark on you now, kid."

She extended her hand, her fingers twitching with anticipation. "Now, hand it over."

She’s actually being considerate by explaining all of this first, Ethan realized. If she wanted to, she could have easily taken it from me by force.

Ethan stared down at the ring. In his previous life, he had only acquired this artifact much later, after entering the Northwatch treasury following his father’s death. Back then, he was in his early twenties—years after Iris had already vanished into the Umbra Continent—he had felt an intense, overwhelming pull toward a dusty black box sitting on a shelf. The moment he touched it, the metal had glowed brilliantly, restructuring itself into this very black ring.

That ring contained the legacy of the Mercenary King.

The moment it awakened in his past life, the memory fragments within it had burned the first two martial forms and circulation pathways of the Mercenary King directly into Ethan’s mind, alongside ancient records of the secret organization the King had founded. After Luna mentioned seeing Peter execute a strikingly similar sword stance, Ethan had realized Sir Peter belonged to that very organization—serving as this generation’s Vice-Leader, whose sole duty was to find the true successor and fulfill the commands left behind by the Mercenary King. But by the time they tried to track down the rest of the organization, its members had already been wiped out or scattered into deep hiding.

Its unlocking mechanism had always been tied to the strength of its wielder. As Ethan’s realm increased, the ring gradually revealed new martial forms, circulation pathways, and functions.

In his past life, Ethan had died before he could unlock the remaining forms beyond the first six, or unveil the complete array of functions built into the ring. Even Marcus and Adrian had considered the block of metal nothing more than a strange artifact Severus had recovered from the Ancient Ruin. Only after Ethan awakened it in the previous timeline did Marcus realize its true value.

But how did Grandfather suddenly know decades ago that someone born into the Ravencrest bloodline would awaken it? Who told him when he didn’t know earlier? Ethan thought, a cold chill running down his spine. And why didn’t he mention any of this to Father or Uncle Marcus, leaving them to think it was just a random artifact from the ruin?

First the System, now this artifact—both demanded immense strength from him before they would yield their deepest secrets or loosen their restrictions.

The more I learn, the more complex this becomes...

Setting his swirling thoughts aside for the moment, Ethan slowly extended his arm and handed the ring to Iris.

The Mage Saint snatched it with a spark of childlike glee in her eyes, looking for all the world like a little girl who had just been handed the rarest candy in the world—entirely obsessed with the unknown ancient secrets held within her palm.

"So this is its true form..." she whispered, a bright smile blooming across her face as her eyes traced the intricate patterns and embedded runes.

At a divine level of perception, her gaze dismantled and comprehended the underlying magical formations hidden within the metal. Her playful demeanor vanished entirely, replaced by a dark, intense fascination that surpassed simple curiosity.

She completely forgot that Ethan was even standing there in her private study.

Ethan watched the Mage Saint silently as she lost herself in the artifact.

It seems she is still hiding something about the ruins... or is she waiting to confirm something before she speaks?

---

Minutes bled into hours inside the isolated study.

Ethan leaned back against the edge of the desk, crossing his arms as he watched the grandest spellcaster on the continent descend into sheer, frantic frustration.

Iris hovered a few inches off the floor, enveloped in a dense halo of violet and crimson mana. Her slender fingers wove intricate arcane circles in the air, projecting layer after layer of high-tier unraveling arrays onto the black ring floating between her palms.

Bzzzt!

A sharp hiss echoed through the silent pocket dimension as her third dissection formation dissolved into nothingness, shattered instantly by the ring’s utter refusal to yield.

"Again..." Iris muttered, her brows furrowing deep in concentration. Her eyes—usually brimming with playful arrogance—glowed with a burning, obsessed intensity.

She snapped her fingers, summoning three floating grimoires from the surrounding shelves. Ancient runes burst forth from the pages, wrapping around the ring like glowing chains of light. She poured a staggering amount of mana into the artifact, attempting to forcibly trace its internal pathways.

Pop.

The magical chains shattered like brittle glass. The ring merely hovered there, cold, smooth, and completely unbothered.

"Tch! What kind of stubborn, ridiculous design is this?!" Iris stomped her foot against the air, letting out a sharp growl of irritation. "It doesn’t use standard mana, it rejects divine intent, and it completely grounds out spatial force!"

Ethan watched her quietly, suppressing the faint urge to sigh. She’s used enough mana in the last few hours to erase a mid-sized fortress, yet she hasn’t even scratched the surface.

Iris took a deep breath, forcing her mana to settle. She closed her eyes and cleared her mind of every excess thought, relying purely on her raw arcane perception—the absolute apex of a Mage Saint’s vision.

Slowly, Iris extended a single, hair-thin strand of mana toward the ring. Her perception settled on the outermost layer.

She concentrated.

The intricate structure gradually peeled apart beneath her perception, revealing another layer hidden beneath it.

Iris’s eyes narrowed.

She pushed deeper.

Another layer emerged.

Then another.

Each time she thought she had reached the artifact’s foundation, another hidden structure emerged beneath it, forcing her to push her perception deeper.

The surrounding mana grew increasingly still as Iris’s entire focus narrowed toward the artifact.

Layer after layer peeled away beneath her perception until, finally, she reached the deepest part of the artifact.

And there, at its very core, she saw it.

A massive, imposing core lay suspended within the depths of the ring.

But what emanated from it wasn’t mana. It was something else entirely.

Iris’s expression changed.

A strange energy pulsed within the core—something she had never encountered before, something that resembled neither mana nor any known form of divine power.

She stared at it for several seconds, completely bewildered.

What...is this?

Her curiosity overcame her caution.

Carefully, Iris extended her perception toward the mysterious energy.

The moment she touched it—

For the first time, the ring did not resist her.

Instead, the sleek black ring dissolved into a cloud of shimmering golden mist. Right before Iris’s eyes, the mist reassembled itself, expanding into a magnificent, complex ancient rune that hovered in mid-air. It burned with a quiet, divine light, radiating an ethereal geometry that felt completely detached from the known laws of magic.

Iris froze, completely mesmerized. Her violet eyes dilated as she drank in the formation, capturing a fleeting, breathtaking glimpse of a boundary that lay far beyond standard human perception—a realm belonging to true antiquity.

It’s... beautiful, she thought, her breath catching in her throat as she stood utterly spellbound.

Before her divine vision could fully record or comprehend the grand structure of the rune, the floating symbol pulsed softly. Moving with effortless grace, the ancient formation swept past Iris and drifted toward Ethan.

Ethan instinctively raised his hand. The moment the rune touched his skin, it flared with a warm, brilliant light, etching itself directly over his palm in an intricate, glowing magical formation. The warmth seeped deep into his bones, circulating through his mana pathways before the marks faded into his skin.

Iris blinked, breaking out of her trance. She rubbed her eyes and leaned in close, staring intently at Ethan’s bare hand.

"Wait... where did it go?" she asked, her voice filled with pure wonder as she scanned his palm with her mana, finding absolutely nothing.

Across from her, Ethan looked down at his own hand. While the mark was completely invisible to Iris, a faint, translucent golden outline of the ancient rune remained clearly visible to his eyes.

Then, without warning, the glowing lines began to shift.

The rune unraveled, its geometric patterns bending and reforming, coiling across his palm and up along his wrist in a slow, deliberate spiral. Within seconds, the golden light had reshaped itself entirely—no longer an abstract formation, but the unmistakable, serpentine silhouette of a dragon, its body wound in a tight coil, wings folded close against its spine, a single narrow eye tracing open somewhere near his knuckles.

Ethan’s breath caught.

"What’s happening?"

Meanwhile, somewhere beyond the Empire...

Severus Ravencrest gazed into the distant void. A faint smile touched his lips.

"She did it."

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