I woke up as a King in a Fantasy World

The sword let out a long, suffering sigh. "Enough with the endless questions, brat. The most pressing matter right now is the upcoming ritual. And frankly, I'd rather not witness you making a complete fool of yourself in front of the entire kingdom. It would be embarrassing—for both of us."

Jareth exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. "Alright, alright. Fair point. So, what exactly do I need to do?"

"Before anything else, you need to establish a connection with your seed," the sword instructed. "Close your eyes, focus, and try to sense its presence within you."

Jareth did as he was told, shutting his eyes and taking a deep breath. He cleared his mind and concentrated, trying to reach for some mysterious essence within him.

He waited.

And waited some more.

…Nothing.

His brow furrowed. "Uh… What exactly am I supposed to be feeling here? Because right now, I feel absolutely nothing."

The sword groaned, the sound vibrating through the air. "Oh, for the love of—are you this dense, or is your brain just decorative?"

Jareth scowled. "Hey! I'm trying here!"

"You trying is the problem! Stop overthinking it! Just feel!"

Jareth exhaled sharply through his nose. "That's really helpful. Thank you for that very specific advice, oh wise and mighty sword."

The sword let out an exasperated noise. "Alright, clearly, we're going to be here all day if I leave you to your own devices. Time for a shortcut."

Before Jareth could ask what that meant, a sudden burst of golden light shot from the tip of the sword, slamming into his chest with surprising force.

His breath hitched. A wave of warmth spread through his body, sinking deep into his bones. It wasn't an uncomfortable warmth—if anything, it was oddly soothing, like stepping into a sunlit bath on a cold morning. It coiled through his veins, settled beneath his skin, and then—

Thump.

A pulse.

Right in the center of his forehead, between his brows. It was faint but distinct, like the distant echo of a heartbeat.

Jareth gasped softly. His body tensed, and he instinctively pressed his fingers to his glabella. "I—I think I feel something!"

"Finally," the sword drawled. "I was beginning to think you were a lost cause."

Jareth ignored the jab, focusing on the strange sensation. As he concentrated, an image formed in his mind—a small, round, golden orb, floating weightlessly in a vast void. Encircling it was a faint, shimmering blue ring, gently pulsing with energy.

Awe spread through him. "Incredible…"

The sword snorted. "Yeah, yeah, don't get too excited. That golden ball? That's your seed—the source of your power. The blue ring around it means you've awakened. The more rings you have, the stronger you are. In our kingdom, the most powerful individuals have five rings."

Jareth's brows lifted. "Wait—only five?"

The sword scoffed. "Only five?! Do you have any idea how difficult it is to get even one? Five is essentially god-tier. If you think you can just collect rings like cheap trinkets, you're in for a rude awakening."

Jareth rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "So, theoretically, more than five is possible…?"

The sword let out a short, bitter laugh. "Sure, theoretically. Just like theoretically you could sprout wings and fly. Let's not get ahead of ourselves, brat. You just managed to find your seed after I literally had to blast it into your awareness."

Jareth scratched his head, feeling slightly sheepish. "Okay, fair point."

"Mm-hmm. Sure." The sword's voice dripped with skepticism. "Anyway, congratulations, brat. You've taken your first step into the world of magic. Try not to trip and break something."

Jareth sighed, rolling his shoulders. "No promises."

The sword hummed in approval. "Good. Now that you've grasped your seed, the next step is learning how to tap into it."

Jareth frowned. "Tap into it? What exactly does that mean?"

"It means accessing the core of your abilities," the sword explained. "This golden ball inside you—your seed—is your guide to your power. By tapping into it, you can gain insight into your abilities. Think of it as a manual that not only tells you what your powers are but also helps you use them. Every ability needs cooperation from its seed; it won't just work on its own. The more in sync you are with it, the better control you'll have."

Jareth nodded slowly, processing the information. "Alright… but are you having me tap into my seed because you think I might uncover something about the king's abilities?"

"You could say that," the sword admitted. "But it's also necessary for the upcoming ritual. Even though the previous king never figured out how to use his abilities, he was still awakened. That means he could at least channel the seed's power to activate an artifact."

The sword let out a hum, almost contemplative. "I don't have high expectations for you uncovering anything, but it's worth a try. When the last king attempted to tap into his seed, all he found was an endless void—complete nothingness. That's why no one truly knows what his abilities were or how they functioned. Normally, a seed reveals something—an image, a sensation, a connection to its power. It acts as a guide, helping the individual understand and wield their abilities. But in his case… there was absolutely nothing."

Jareth's brows furrowed. "So you're telling me that his abilities were so mysterious that even his own seed didn't reveal them?"

"More like his seed couldn't reveal them," the sword corrected. "Or perhaps, whatever was hidden inside it was locked away. But you—you might be different. Since you're the one in this body now, I want to see if you can access something he couldn't."

Jareth took a deep breath, steadying himself. "Alright, let's see what happens."

He closed his eyes, focusing on the golden seed within him. He reached toward it, feeling an invisible pull, as if his very soul was being drawn inside.

The next moment, he was there.

A vast, starry expanse stretched endlessly before him, shimmering with countless tiny orbs of light. Each one glowed with a different hue, flickering like stars in the night sky. There were millions of them, twinkling in an endless void.

Jareth's breath caught. 

What… is this place?

It was mesmerizing—beautiful, yet overwhelming. He had expected to find darkness, emptiness like the sword had described, but instead, he was surrounded by an infinite cosmos of glowing spheres.

He hesitantly stepped forward, drawn toward the brightest orb in sight. It was larger than the others, shining with an intense white light that seemed to pulse with an unfamiliar energy.

His fingers brushed against its surface, and the moment he made contact, something clicked.

An overwhelming sense of connection surged through him—something deep, something ancient. He couldn't describe it, he didn't understand what it was, yet instinctively, he could feel its presence within him, silent but ever-watching.

His mind spun. Didn't Vaelcrest say that the king's seed contained nothing but emptiness? Then what the hell is this?

Jareth pulled back, withdrawing his consciousness from the seed. The starry expanse faded away, and he was back in reality, standing in the quiet of his chamber.

His heart pounded as he turned his attention to the sword. "I saw something."

The sword perked up. "Oh? Do tell."

Jareth inhaled deeply. "It wasn't a void. I saw… a vast space filled with orbs. There were millions of them, all different colors. And in the center, there was a single, massive white orb. When I touched it, I felt something—a connection. I don't know what it was though."

Silence stretched between them for a long moment.

Then, the sword burst into laughter, its voice ringing with a mix of amusement and intrigue. "Hah! Just what the hell did that brat do? To think there's actually a change!"

Jareth blinked, startled by the sudden shift in tone. He narrowed his eyes. 

"A change?" he echoed, his voice cautious. "What kind of change?"

The sword hummed, clearly entertained. "Oh, wouldn't you like to know?"

Jareth scowled. Obviously, that's why I asked. But he already knew the sword was the type to be cryptic when it wanted to be. Whatever it was, it wasn't going to spill everything so easily.

So, the king did something before I took over. The thought made Jareth tense. But what? If he asked directly, the sword would probably just dance around the subject.

"Let's just say it's a good change," the sword finally answered, its tone smug. "Brat, you're lucky. Seems like his ability has finally decided to show itself."

Jareth straightened, his heart skipping a beat. 

"But don't get too excited," the sword continued. "I'm not going to hold your hand through this. If you want to figure it out, you'll have to do it on your own."

Jareth's lips pressed into a thin line. His initial excitement dulled slightly. "Wait… are you saying this change means there's actually a chance to uncover his ability?"

The sword let out an amused huff, as if laughing at his slow realization. "That's exactly what I'm saying."

Jareth clenched his fists. This changed everything. If the previous king wasn't actually powerless, then why had his ability remained a mystery all this time?

"Of course, don't expect me to do the work for you," the sword added. "Try tapping into it again later. Study it, see if you can establish a connection—hell, maybe even have a nice little chat with whatever's lurking in there."

Jareth exhaled slowly. His mind was racing. So the king wasn't just an empty shell. He had assumed he'd have to live his life here as a delicate, defenseless ruler—a vase protected by a set of overpowered bodyguards. But this… this was something else entirely.

His thoughts spiraled further. What kind of power was it? And why had it remained dormant until now? Was it buried deep within the seed, waiting for the right conditions to awaken?

His pulse quickened. Was the condition… transmigration?

The mere thought sent a shiver down his spine.

So is his transmigration meant to happen from the beginning?