PROLOGUE

Xandor's attack at Grimgar devastated the capital, but not much was lost as Rudolf and several other powerful knights held the undead king at bay.However, the victory resulted in Hans accepting himself as the Parvian prince. His continued refusal to call himself Prince was the only thing keeping him from bearing the responsibility of the Parvian Crown, but as the Parvian Imperials always said - We have to bear the burden of our words. And now it was Hans's turn.

He was still unconscious, yet he found his back hugging the snow, his hands as cold as the frozen lake. "Damn." He realised, he was dreaming. Suddenly, his hand moved and he raised his back. Looking at himself he found himself in tattered armour. "Was this man fighting?" A thought occurred in Hans's head, but as usual, he was in someone else's body and wasn't in control.

He turned, or his body did as the owner wished, and Hans had no choice to follow along. As the body raised his head, he found a creature, a man, a lizardian or a winged lizardian...he couldn't make sense what he was seeing. "Puck!" Suddenly he vomited the blood, and his hand instinctively covered his mouth. Hans could feel the warmth of the blood and his vision going hazy. "Just where the heck I'm?" He asked himself, but none answered.

After some struggling, the body managed to stand and began to stagger towards the fallen creature. The body was gasping and it was evident from his condition that he was in a battle for life, but since he was moving, it was also clear that he won in the end. As the body reached the fallen enemy, Hans's vision became clear. It was a bipedal reptile, he had seen a Lizardian before, but the ferocity this fallen creature showed could easily put anything he had seen before to shame. The cold that gaze brought was superiror to what the weather was but the bold voice of his body snapped him out of fear.

"You have desecrated the body given by our gods by mixing the blood of Devourer, for this blasphemy, I the king of Parv, Armin the last imperial order you to die." The body spoke and finally cleared up the question in Hans's mind.

"So I was in Tyrant king Armin's body." He thought, but the ravening gaze of the fallen enemy returned and broke his thoughts.

With the final cry of his, the creature called devourer, shouted before the blade of Armin, "You who killed your all kin for the throne. I curse you Armin parv. I curse the empire you built upon the blood of ours. It will end, your blood will grow weak and others would ate your nation as you did mine -- Shook! thud! thud!" With a swift swing the long reptilian head rolled down the snowy hills.

"My blood is not that weak to crumble upon your petty words, devourer." Armin rebuked and shouted at the skies, "You who sees this in the future. You are an Imperial descendant. Recall your roots that are far deeper than any and rise above all as it's your right to do so."