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... ing his back against a thick tree, nocked another arrow. His first shot had missed, but that didn't matter—his orders were clear.

Suppressive fire.

As long as their relentless barrage of arrows kept the targets pinned inside the cave, the real killers would handle the rest.

The plan was working perfectly—the enemy hadn't broken through.

He took a breath, adjusting his stance, carefully peeking from behind cover to line up his next shot.

Then—pain.

...

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At nineteen, Dexter was already one of the world’s most celebrated authors. His books topped charts. Critics praised his genius. Fans devoured every word. But behind the acclaim was a lonely boy—raised without parents, love, or real friends—just stories.He published his first novel at fourteen. By seventeen, he was a literary star. But the higher he rose, the hollower it felt.Then came the writer’s block. The headaches. The blackout. And the transmigration.Dexter awoke in the body of Daylan, a disgraced young man in a crumbling, medieval world laced with steampunk tech, divine law, and political unrest. Daylan had already failed two of the three sacred Trials—rites that determine one’s magical potential. He was drowning in debt, entangled in plots to overthrow a corrupt Divine Church, and branded a lost cause.With no way back, Dexter took the final Trial—the most brutal of them all—and began a path that would earn him the whispered title: Soldier, Poet, King.But as his powers grew, one question haunted him: Did he truly die? And if so, who—or what—chose to bring him back?

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