Ring Sigil

When he woke, he was burdened with a blood debt.

A transmigrated soul occupied a body steeped in old grudges in a world with no golden finger. The road ahead held hidden arrows from the court, flames of war on the frontier, and a shadow closing in step by step.

The blades had to be sharpened, the spears trained, the vengeance exacted. But what about the people by his side?

Some stood shoulder to shoulder with him, ready to die. Some shielded him with their own bodies. And some smiled beneath the moon, smiling even as their eyes remained dark.

When every clue pointed to the defeat ten years ago, and old debts became entangled with new hatred in a web of their own

He chose to wait no longer.

He stood tall and reclaimed it all, one debt at a time, with his own hands.

As for what he would reclaim in the end, whether it would bring joy or sorrow, and how many people would still be by his side...

No one knew before the blade fell.