That Time I Got Reincarnated as a King (Old Version)

The morning fog hung low across Emberleaf, dense enough to blur the edges of trees and rooftops. The world felt quieter than usual—like the forest itself was holding its breath. Kael sat on a bench carved from a fallen oak, steam curling up from his bowl of mushroom stew. Rimuru hovered beside him, glowing faintly yellow, acting as a convenient heat source.

Across the square, goblins bustled—carrying buckets, stretching laundry, sparring with sticks, and bickering about whether mana should be stored in jars or bags. The hum of the village had grown stronger lately. Emberleaf was no longer hiding—it was becoming.

Nanari stumbled into the clearing, half-dressed and holding a muffin in one hand and three rolled-up scrolls in the other.

"Three more goblin clans sent messages overnight. One wants to trade mana thread. One's asking about diplomacy." She paused, squinting. "And one asked if your slime is single."

Rimuru turned pink and spun in a circle.

Kael blinked. "Weirdly flattered."

Nanari rolled her eyes. "You're attracting attention. That's good, but it also means eyes are drifting this way."

Great Sage:
"Encrypted spellwave detected. Traceable to coordinates within three kilometers. Signal type: remote observation magic."

Kael's hand froze mid-spoon. He slowly lowered the bowl.

"We're being watched," he said.

Rimuru darkened to orange, humming low.

Kael moved through the southern trees, boots damp from dew and laces wrapped high. The air was thick with moisture. Every branch he passed brushed his shoulders like a warning.

He climbed a narrow ridge trail to one of Emberleaf's southern watchposts. It was a tree-platform hidden by brush and reinforced with thornroot bark. Rimuru rode quietly on his shoulder, body taut with alertness.

At the top, Gobrinus crouched behind a half-constructed canopy, holding Nanari's mana-scope like a telescope wrapped in vines. Crystals flickered faintly at the base.

"See anything?" Kael asked.

Gobrinus didn't turn. "That squirrel blinked at me weird. Could be a spy."

Kael took the scope. "Please let that be a joke."

Gobrinus shrugged. "Ehh, 60/40."

Kael focused the lens, slowly scanning the edge of the trees. At first—just brush, bramble, and mist.

Then something flared.

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Near the base of a moss-covered boulder, a faint sigil shimmered—angular lines forming a jagged ring, pulsing once with light before vanishing.

"Great Sage?"

Great Sage:

"Residual mana confirms: remote scrying anchor. Magical source—foreign. Not native to Emberleaf's leyline pattern."

Kael's jaw tightened. "Someone's testing our range."

Rimuru flared red.

Gobrinus squinted at the rock. "So… squirrel's innocent?"

Zelganna's training yard echoed with thudding wood and short, fierce grunts. Young goblins sparred with oversized spears while older ones barked corrections.

Kael entered the yard and held out a bark-clad hand. In it was the fragment of rock with the burned rune.

Zelganna dismissed the trainees with a wave and inspected the fragment. Her expression hardened.

"I've seen this. When I was young. Soldiers from the western borderlands used this mark to scout targets. Towns that burned days later always had these nearby."

Kael: "So we've already been chosen."

"No," Zelganna said, voice low. "We've been noticed. If we do nothing, we become prey. If we move first…"

She let the sentence hang.

Kael finished it: "Then we set the rules."

The central hut was warm with firelight and the scent of burning mintroot. Nanari unrolled her newest map, a patchwork of parchment, bark, and string. Blue veins snaked through it—the leyline grid.

"One of these threads," she said, pointing to a southern node, "is draining ambient mana. Like a leech. Probably where the scry originated."

Gobdo slammed a carved bone axe onto the table. "Let's arm the children."

Gobrinus knocked over a brazier trying to agree. Rimuru launched a water burst and snuffed it with a splash.

Kael raised a brow. "Let's not arm the children."

He pointed to the corrupted node. "We investigate. Zelganna, Rimuru, and I. Small and fast."

Nanari frowned. "And if something's waiting?"

Kael: "Then we find it first."

She sighed. "Fine. You're lucky I'm the responsible one."

A hawk-familiar dropped from the sky just before sunset. It landed on a perch beside Kael's tent and tapped its claw twice.

Garron's seal.

Kael opened the scroll and read silently.

"There are whispers at court. Someone beyond the nobles has taken interest in Emberleaf. Not all eyes watching you are noble. Be careful."

Kael stared at the paper long after finishing. Rimuru crawled up beside him, pressing against his ribs.

He whispered, "Too late for careful."

That night, he dreamed.

The air shimmered like heat off stone. Kael stood alone in a hall of thrones—seven towering seats, each unique.

Wrath's throne pulsed with molten light. Cracks glowed red-hot.

In the center, the Flame Mirror. And upon it, a girl.

Silver-eyed. Pale. Watching him.

Unknown Voice:
"Wrath is not rage. It is resolve that has lost patience."

The Pride throne flickered, its golden frame crumbling. Another—Gluttony's—pulsed like a beating heart.

Kael stepped forward. The mirror cracked.

It shattered.

He fell into fire.

He woke with his hand clenched around his bedsheet, blood on his knuckles.

Rimuru hovered beside him, glowing a soft blue.

Dawn light crept over the trees as Emberleaf stirred.

Kael stood beside Zelganna and Rimuru at the southern edge of the village. Nanari finished latching a wind-surge anklet around Kael's boot.

"Three bursts means retreat," she said. "Four means 'I did something stupid and want credit.'"

Gobrinus handed Kael a dragon beetle resin flare. "It lights up and smells like a sock caught on fire. Don't thank me."

Kael smirked and looked to the treeline.

"Today we send a message. If something's out there—"

Zelganna: "We greet it."

Rimuru squeaked.

Kael nodded. "Then let's go."

They vanished into the fog.

Far beyond Emberleaf, atop a frost-coated ridge, something crouched in silence.

Its skin was pale blue, veined in black. One horn jutted from its skull, broken at the tip. A cloak of rags trailed from its back like smoke.

It watched the forest.

Smiled.

Unknown Entity:
"So… the boy really did survive."