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

The morning sun cast long, golden beams through Emberleaf's plaza, warming the cobblestone paths and glinting off the decorative banners strung between huts. Woven with dyed bark and mana-thread, they fluttered like proud, colorful leaves. Mana lanterns hung from branches overhead, humming softly as if they too were holding their breath.

Kael stood at the center of it all, arms crossed and trying not to look as nervous as he felt. Before him, seven goblins knelt in a crooked line. One was trembling. Another kept adjusting an oversized moss cape. A third appeared to be asleep.

Rimuru hovered on Kael's shoulder, wearing a crown made of woven clover and looking far too pleased with herself.

"Is this dramatic enough?" Kael asked, glancing her way.

Rimuru pulsed a bright yellow and projected a glowing word above her head: YES.

Nanari stood nearby, arms full of scrolls and notes, goggles pushed up on her head like a warning light. "Just don't overdo it again," she muttered. "If you faint in front of the goblins one more time, I'm recording it."

Kael exhaled slowly. "This time I'm pacing myself."

"You're naming seven goblins back-to-back," she deadpanned. "That's not pacing. That's mana-suicide."

Kael tilted his head. "Great Sage?"

Great Sage:
"Risk factor: elevated. Mana threshold will approach critical if pauses are not implemented between invocations. Proceed with caution."

"Noted," Kael muttered. "Let's do this."

He stepped forward, locking eyes with the first goblin—nervous, hunched, gripping his knees. "From this day forward, you are Gobrel."

A golden glow swelled around the goblin. He gasped as the energy wrapped around him, lifting his posture and straightening his back. His ears lengthened slightly, his eyes widened. He looked like he'd been reborn.

The next goblin practically bounced with anticipation. "You shall be Gobbin."

Another burst of light.

"Gobessi."

Soft, gentle glow. The goblin smiled, eyes misty.

"Gobzen."

A crackle of energy and a triumphant shout.

"Gobjii."

This one roared and flexed, striking a pose that nearly knocked over the goblin beside him.

Kael winced. His fingers were tingling. Sweat began to bead on his forehead.

Rimuru dimmed slightly, shifting from excited yellow to worried orange.

Nanari stepped forward. "That's enough. Stop now."

Kael waved her off. "Two more. Just two."

She muttered a curse and activated a mana scanner with a snap of her wrist.

Kael reached toward the sixth goblin. "Gobsee."

The light this time flickered—but held. The goblin shivered, then grinned as the transformation passed.

Kael swayed slightly. Rimuru zipped closer to brace him.

"One left," he whispered. "Goddess of mana, one more…"

"Gobesh," he said hoarsely.

The seventh goblin lit up like a flare. The magical pulse shot outward, washing over the square. Kael staggered backward.

Rimuru instantly wrapped herself around him.

Great Sage:
"Mana threshold exceeded. Initiating stabilization."

Kael's knees buckled. Zelganna appeared from seemingly nowhere, catching him under one arm and lowering him to the ground.

Nanari stomped over, her scanner flashing red. "What did I say?!"

Kael gave her a lazy thumbs-up. "Nailed… the dramatic timing… though."

Nanari growled. "You nailed your mana core to the floor."

The newly named goblins stood dazed, glowing faintly with leftover magic. One flexed dramatically, another tripped over his own feet. A third tried to levitate and ended up with singed eyebrows.

Kael's vision blurred, but he still managed a faint smile.

"Totally worth it."

Kael woke up flat on his back in Nanari's workshop, staring up at the ceiling tiles—each one lovingly painted with a mix of goblin graffiti, arcane formulas, and at least one doodle of a mushroom with abs.

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The smell of herbal paste and burning incense drifted through the air.

His limbs ached. His mana felt like it had been wrung out, folded in half, and put back in upside down.

"Ugh," Kael muttered. "Why does my soul feel like soup?"

"Because you cooked it," Nanari replied from across the room, not looking up from a glowing chalkboard where she was adjusting equations with a frown. "You named seven goblins in one breath. That's not mana-efficient. That's mana-suicidal."

Rimuru was curled up on Kael's chest, glowing a gentle blue like a fuzzy nightlight. She pulsed softly at the sound of his voice, then nuzzled under his chin.

Nyaro lay nearby, eyes half-lidded but watching the room like a bored sentinel.

Kael blinked. "Did we win?"

"You passed out halfway through your own coronation speech," Nanari said. "So technically? Yes. But your landing was undignified."

Kael sighed. "Still totally worth it."

Great Sage:
"Mana core stabilizing. Overexertion threshold surpassed by 43%. Recommending cooldown period of forty-eight hours and restructured invocation protocols."

"Translation?" Kael mumbled.

"You need a leash," Nanari said. "Or a manager."

Kael sat up slowly. "The goblins—did they all evolve?"

"They're fine. They're happy. They're currently trying to build a shrine in your honor out of beetle shells and soup pots."

"…Nice."

Nanari rolled her eyes and tossed a glowing scroll toward him. "Here. Great Sage worked with me on something while you were unconscious. It's a limiter."

Kael squinted at the runes. "A limiter?"

"A mana throttle. You won't be able to name anyone if your body can't handle the mana cost. It syncs with your signature—if you try to go over the cap, it locks the spell mid-cast."

Kael blinked. "That's terrifyingly smart."

"Also frustratingly necessary."

Rimuru pulsed in agreement.

Nanari continued, "You may think you're immortal with all your hidden cheat skills, but if you start hemorrhaging mana like that again, you'll break your own leyline imprint."

Great Sage:
"Leyline signature degradation detected. Projected 7% damage without intervention."

Kael sighed. "Okay, okay. I get it. We'll pace the naming. No more group ceremonies."

Nanari narrowed her eyes. "Swear it."

Kael raised a hand. "I swear on… Gobrinus's soup pot shrine."

From somewhere outside, Gobrinus's voice rang out: "What?!"

Rimuru displayed a floating projection that read: LIMIT ENABLED.

Kael smiled. "There. Crisis… managed."

Nanari shook her head. "You don't manage crises, Kael. You just pass out until someone else does."

Kael groaned and tried to sit up again, only for Rimuru to gently push him back down with a soft bounce.

"Fine," he muttered. "Fifteen more minutes. Then I go back to being king."

By midday, he was back on his feet—mostly—and trudging after Nanari toward Emberleaf's eastern ridge. Sunlight filtered through the trees in warm, dappled streaks, casting golden patches on the moss-covered path.

The village buzzed around them, still riding the energy from the festival. Goblins sang, sparred, argued over mushroom stew recipes. Somewhere in the distance, someone was absolutely losing a log-rolling contest.

Kael paused at the edge of a clearing. There it was.

A massive, lumpy patchwork tent leaned dramatically to one side. Its seams were stitched from bark-fiber, woven grass, and what looked suspiciously like a bedsheet tied to a spear.

Kael squinted. "Is it… supposed to look like it's dying?"

Nanari crossed her arms. "Welcome to Emberleaf's first magic school."

It was made of stitched-together hide, barkcloth, and repurposed festival banners. A crooked sign hung over the entrance, hand-painted in glowing ink:
Magic School – No Fireballs Inside

"…This is your grand vision?" Kael asked.

Nanari nodded proudly. "Yep. The first official educational structure in Emberleaf."

"It looks like a fruit stand that lost a fight with a thunderstorm."

A piece of bark flapped off the roof and clattered to the ground.

"Okay," Nanari conceded, "it's a work in progress. But the concept is solid. Standardized magic instruction, mana safety lessons, spell circle theory, and goblin-run tutoring. I've got four volunteers, one blackboard, and a stack of fireproof scrolls."

Inside the tent, a goblin was trying to balance a rune stone on his head while another recited spell incantations backward.

"I give it three hours before someone explodes something," Kael muttered.

"I give it two," Nanari said with a smile. "That's why we've built it far from anything flammable."

Rimuru floated inside, pulsing bright pink as she began lecturing the younglings in sparkly projection text. Words like "FOCUS", "CHANNEL SAFELY", and "NO INCANTING IN YOUR SLEEP" flickered through the air.

One of the goblins asked, "If we chant while dreaming, does the spell still go off?"

Rimuru paused, then turned a slow shade of red.

Kael leaned against a nearby post. "You know, this actually might work."

Nanari folded her arms, eyes scanning the mess like a proud engineer watching a barely functional machine still do something amazing.

"Emberleaf needs more than strength," she said. "We need a future. That means knowledge."

Kael watched the goblins fumble through their first clumsy attempts at magic circles.

He nodded.
"Then let's teach them to build something we never had."

Dusk crept into Emberleaf like a velvet curtain, casting long shadows over the training yard.

Kael stood alone near the old stump where he'd first announced Emberleaf's founding. The cheers were gone now, replaced by the quiet hum of evening insects and the distant clang of a smith's hammer winding down for the night.

Rimuru rested on his shoulder, unusually still. Nyaro sat nearby, tail curled tight, ears twitching as if listening to thoughts that hadn't been spoken yet.

Kael stared at his hands.

They didn't glow anymore. No dramatic flashes. No bursts of magic. Just fingers—shaking slightly, worn at the edges.

"I thought I could name the world," he whispered.

Great Sage:
Desire acknowledged. Capacity limited. Recklessness: high.

Kael gave a weak laugh. "Thanks. Very comforting."

He sat down on the stump, head in his hands.
"I don't want to mess this up," he muttered. "Not them. Not this place."

Rimuru glowed a soft gold and leaned her surface against his cheek.

Nyaro padded over and pressed against his legs.

And for a moment, surrounded by silence, Kael remembered:

He hadn't built Emberleaf alone.

And he wouldn't carry its weight alone either.

That night, long after the fires dimmed and the goblins had curled into their dens, Kael stood alone on the southern ridge of Emberleaf.

The wind was cool and smelled faintly of charred wood and crushed moss. Below, the village lights shimmered like grounded stars—tiny moving glows: Rimuru drifting over sleeping younglings, a patrol torch bobbing near the outskirts, the flicker of a fire left too long untended.

Kael exhaled and watched the breath curl in front of him like smoke.

"Great Sage," he said quietly, "do you think… I'm changing too fast?"

A pause.

Great Sage:
"Change is not always growth. But you are doing both."

Kael frowned, thoughtful. "It still hurts."

Great Sage:
"That means you're still human. Even if this world sometimes forgets."

Kael crouched down, plucked a dry leaf from the grass, and held it up to the moonlight.

"I'll name again," he said. "I'll keep giving. But I won't forget who I am."

He let the leaf go.

It caught the breeze, spun once, and disappeared into the dark.

Behind him, Rimuru appeared without a sound, hovering close. Nyaro followed a moment later, sitting beside him like a silent shadow.

Kael stood again, this time without swaying.

"Let's go home," he said.

And the three of them walked back into the heart of Emberleaf, quiet flames still burning behind their footsteps.