Flowery Reincarnation

A/N: For web novel it's the first time I'm making such a visible author note. Hello to the newest chapter! Thank you for all the kudos, support, and reviews! Today will be a little different since I'm testing a new writing style. If you like it please say so along with the review or positive reaction.

If not and you want me to return my little weird writing style then please do tell me as well! Thanks for waiting gentlemen and fellow ladies! Enjoy and have a good day!

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Paul Greyrat had always longed for something more than the rigid expectations of noble life in the Asura Kingdom. He had been a young, reckless boy, swinging his sword arrogantly at his instructor, yearning for adventure. While other noble children scoffed at his unruly behavior, calling him a fool and a clown, Paul's response was to bloody their noses, never backing down from a fight.

At times, indulgence in the luxuries of nobility wasn't worth it. When others sought to humiliate the servants or lord their status over the common folk, Paul simply saw red. If someone mistreated a maid he secretly liked, Paul struck them down without hesitation. When his intelligence or demeanor was called into question, the outcome was either an icy stare or, more often, a foul-mouthed brawl with his father.

Paul's heart always led the way, while his head followed far behind. Obviously, not taking into account his lower head in later years.

His father, Amarant Notos Greyrat, had no shortage of rage-filled lectures, furious over his son's frequent outbursts and behavior unlike a real noble. He wanted Paul to grow into the responsibilities of their house, and to carry on the heritage with honor. How bad it turned out to be.

From the beginning, Paul had no interest in that. He only desired freedom, adventure, and... an occasional pretty face. The final straw came when a heated argument with his father escalated, leading to Paul's exile from the Notos Greyrat household.

That night, Paul found himself in a small tavern, a flickering candle barely lighting his darkened thoughts. He had nothing—no home, no money, and no future. The innkeeper, sensing the boy's despair, allowed him to stay for a few nights, promising that Paul could repay him in the future. But the next morning, the innkeeper's daughter was found lying in Paul's bed, and it didn't take long for the man to puzzle things together and throw him out with a deformed by-punch jaw.

Paul, for the first time, began to understand the weight of his actions.

Soon after, Paul became an adventurer. He found solace in combat, battling monsters with the fervor of a man possessed. Wielding the divine sword styles he'd been taught in his youth, Paul felt alive, perhaps for the first time.

It wasn't long before Paul formed a team, the Fangs of the Black Wolf, and in that group, he met the woman who would change everything: Zenith. She was beautiful, and despite her own noble Asura lineage, something about her grounded him in ways no other had. Although his wandering eye for other women remained, it was nothing like before.

Then, he became a father.

It was also a day when he feared the most.

I don't know how to take care of a child.

I don't know anything about parenting.

I want to be a good father for that child.

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He had always been a man of action. Paul was quick to fight and quicker to make mistakes. But standing in the doorway of his home, watching his son Rudeus pour his heart into spellcasting, Paul felt something he had never been able to conform within himself.

Helplessness.

Rudeus had become a marvel. Not just because of his magic, though that alone was enough to astonish anyone. Were his ex-party to see this, would they be proud or scared? Paul wondered as he watched Rudy daily from the corner of his eyes. Whether Rudy spent time with Zenith, Paul would at least look from the sidelines with eyes hidden from view.

The way his son carried himself, the way his eyes seemed to understand the world on a level far beyond his years— no, it was something more.

Honestly, these amethyst eyes scared Paul as they seemed to see through him to the very core of who he was. It intimidated him more than he liked to admit.

"He doesn't need me." That thought had been eating at him for years. He masked it with bravado, burying himself in training and his knightly duty, pretending that his lack of security didn't affect anybody and was left unseen.

But perhaps it did, not that Rudeus ever showed it. The child grew up faster than Paul expected, and it was clear who had the greater bond with him. It was Zenith of course.

She was everything Paul wasn't. Patient. Kind. And the perfect mother. Paul loved her all the same, it mattered not if she was a better parent than him. Maybe it's better that way. She nurtured Rudeus' mind and told him stories, while Paul pathetically fumbled to connect through sparring sessions and occasional praise. Zenith would laugh when Paul tried to explain a sword technique to the boy, giggling, "You've lost him already."

In the end, he could only show it through sparring lessons.

Still, there had been that one moment. That precious moment when Rudeus picked up the wooden sword and struck his first clean hit during practice. Paul's chest had swelled with pride.

"My son is amazing."

But that wasn't enough. Not for a man who always acted first and reflected later. The more time passed, the more Paul realized something critical: he didn't know how to be a father. His only model was his own father, Amarant Notos Greyrat. A man was cold and demanding. Paul had rebelled against him in every possible way, swearing never to be trapped in nobility business. And yet, in his distance from Rudeus, Paul feared he was repeating the same mistakes.

"I'm failing him."

The thought haunted Paul, especially in the quiet moments when Rudeus would retreat to his studies and Zenith would softly close the door behind him, leaving Paul in the stillness of the room, alone with his thoughts. How could a former adventurer, who had battled monsters and lived through countless dangers, be so lost when it came to raising a child?

He tried to talk about it once, with Laws, the hunter of Buena Village — his only true friend here. But even then, he felt embarrassed, as if showing weakness in front of another man would strip away some of his pride. And speaking to Zenith? That felt like admitting defeat, like giving up a part of himself he wasn't ready to surrender.

"The child is so perfect I felt overshadowed."

That was it, wasn't it? Rudeus, in his brilliance, had made Paul feel small. Useless. But those moments they shared with the sword—they were certainly different. That's when Paul saw a glimpse of himself in his son. The fire. The strength. The determination. He could connect with that. He needed to connect with that. To finally understand Rudy, even if it was a tiny bit...! He would give all for that notion.

Paul knew one thing for certain. He loved his son. That love was buried beneath layers of pride and insecurities, but it was there. And for the first time in a long time, Paul wanted to prove himself—not as an adventurer, but as a father.

From that day Paul spent more time with his son, taking Rudeus to see how the Ex-Adventurer battled monsters and beasts alike. Parts of pride began piecing themselves together within his heart as Paul appreciated this picture.

"I'm glad you are my father."

To hear such heart-shaking words, was Paul's dream for the future.

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A sharp edge of a newly formed tail pierced flesh as the sound felt thunderous to Paul's ears.

Seeing Rudy's body lying motionless on the ground, Paul felt something snap inside him. Be it the slumbering feelings that were forced to finally burst. The eyes dilated and breath became ragged. His vision blurred as rage overtook his senses, his sword trembling in the hand that was bleeding from how much strength and anger it emanated.

"BASTAAARD!" Paul roared, charging at the beast that towered before him. All while ignoring the cries of the blue-haired mage and hunter. The creature, a monstrous amalgamation of dark scales and twisted mana, let out a low growl, its eyes glowing red as it met his assault head-on.

Paul swung with precision, the Sword God techniques of his youth coming to the forefront as he unleashed a flurry of attacks with his obsidian sword. He aimed for the creature's weak points—its joints, its exposed flesh beneath the thick armor of scales. But his anger clouded his judgment. Each swing felt heavier, each step more reckless than the previous.

The beast dodged to the side, its claws slashing at Paul's arm. Blood spurted out, but Paul barely felt the pain. He had only one goal. To destroy the monster, avenge Rudy.

What would Zenith think? What would the people watching think? It didn't matter and was tossed aside for now as Paul continued his murderous assault.

But the beast was faster than he anticipated. It slammed into Paul's chest, sending him crashing to the ground. He gasped for air, the wind knocked out of him as he struggled to raise his torso. Yet, despite his injuries, Paul forced himself to stand, gripping his sword tightly.

"I won't... not like this," Paul growled, preparing for another charge.

His muscles screamed in protest as he pushed his body to move. Blood trickled down from a wound on his shoulder, his breathing labored, but none of that was important. Not now. Not when Rudy lay broken behind him, barely clinging to life. Not when his son could be dead any moment.

Paul glared at the blue-haired mage momentarily without any consideration for the current threat.

Heal him!

There was still a chance to save him.

His heart would break if it was otherwise.

The creature, an enormous, grotesque monster with gleaming fangs and rippling muscle, snarled at Paul. Its eyes glowed with an otherworldly hunger, as though it relished the sight of Paul's struggle. It lunged at him again, claws raised to strike and then to consume him as well.

This time, Paul was ready.

With a swift step to the side, he dodged the beast's initial swipe, bringing his sword up in a tight arc. The blade caught the creature across its flank, slicing through thick fur and into muscle. It howled in pain, thrashing wildly, but Paul held his ground.

Paul shouted a battle cry, eyes blazing with fury.

The beast scrutinized him, its movements more cautious now, yet still predatory. Paul knew he couldn't let his guard down for a second. His entire body ached, but he forced the pain to the back of his mind. He had fought tougher monsters in his prime. At least he believed that.

He had to win.

With a roar, Paul surged forward, his sword aimed at the creature's exposed side. But the beast was too fast. Even with its incredible mass, the Monster still dodged, spinning around and slamming its revealed tail into Paul's ribs. He flew backward, his vision blurring as pain exploded in his chest.

His sword slipped from his grip.

Paul coughed, tasting blood. His fingers clawed at the dirt as he tried to push himself up. But his body wasn't responding. He couldn't breathe nor move.

He remembered Rudy's body just a few feet away. The boy, once so full of life now lay in a pool of his own blood. Paul's heart clenched, anger and fear surging through him.

"I can't... fail him..." Paul rasped.

Gritting his teeth, Paul forced his shaking limbs to cooperate. He had to stand and fight. He couldn't die here, not before making sure everything was over.

With a primal intent, Paul grabbed a nearby rock and hurled it at the creature, momentarily stunning it. The beast hesitated, and in that split second, Paul scrambled to his feet, lunging for his sword. His fingers wrapped around the hilt just as the creature roared and charged again.

As the beast leaped at him, Paul sidestepped and, with all his remaining strength, drove his sword deep into its side. The creature shrieked, its momentum carrying it forward, but Paul didn't let go. He twisted the blade, dragging it through flesh until the beast screamed and pushed Paul away with all its might.

Panting, Paul dropped to his knees, blood, and dirt coating his hands. His entire body felt like it was on fire, but the monster wasn't dead.

His mind felt absent as he looked at the sky, still lying without the force in his muscles. The fight wasn't over yet. Paul had to get up and fast for his sake. Yet for reasons unknown to him, the world started to darken.

"I..." Paul whispered, struggling to see, numbness flooding his exhausted limbs.

Please.

Something resonated within the surroundings, magic itself stirring in the wake of it.

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