The attack came in the middle of the night, striking without warning or mercy.
Silas woke to agony beyond anything he had experienced in either of his lives. It felt as though molten metal was flowing through his veins, while invisible hands squeezed his chest until each breath became a monumental effort.
His vision blurred, and the room spun around him as waves of nausea crashed over his consciousness.
He tried to call for help, but only a weak gasp emerged from his throat. The effort of attempting to speak sent fresh spikes of pain through his body, and he collapsed back against his pillows, fighting to remain conscious.
This was different from his previous episodes. Those had been weakness and exhaustion, uncomfortable but manageable. This was his body actively trying to destroy itself, as if some fundamental system had finally given up the struggle to keep him alive.
Through the haze of pain, Silas heard his door burst open. Voices filled the room with servants, guards, and healers summoned from their beds. Hands touched him, checking his pulse, feeling his forehead, but their ministrations seemed to come from very far away.
"His life force is fluctuating wildly," he heard one of the healers say. "It's like his body is rejecting its own energy."
"Can you stabilize him?" That was Lady Elara's voice, tight with worry.
"We're trying, but this is beyond our usual treatments. His condition has never been this severe."
Silas wanted to tell them that he was still conscious, still fighting, but his body refused to obey his commands. He was trapped inside his own flesh, aware but helpless as the people around him discussed his condition as if he were already gone.
"The meeting with the empires is tomorrow," Chancellor Marcus said quietly. "If the prince cannot attend "
"He'll attend," Master Gareth's gravelly voice cut through the discussion. "Even if I have to carry him to the throne room myself."
"Master Gareth, with respect, look at him. He can barely breathe, let alone negotiate with three empires."
"Then we'll find a way to make it work. The boy has a plan, and it's the only chance this kingdom has."
The argument continued around him, but Silas found his attention drifting inward.
The pain was still there, but beneath it, he could sense something else... the same flickering energy he had felt during his sword aura training with Master Gareth. It was chaotic now, surging and retreating like a tide caught in a storm, but it was definitely present.
His engineering mind began to analyze the problem even as his body writhed in agony.
If sword aura was about channeling life force efficiently, and his condition was caused by his body's inability to properly manage that energy, then perhaps the solution wasn't to fight the chaos but to find a way to work with it.
The concept reminded him of earthquake engineering instead of building structures rigid enough to resist seismic forces, you designed them to flex and absorb the energy, redirecting it in ways that prevented catastrophic failure.
With tremendous effort, Silas tried to apply the meditation techniques Master Gareth had taught him. Instead of fighting the chaotic energy flowing through his body, he attempted to observe it, to understand its patterns and rhythms.
The pain made concentration nearly impossible, but gradually he began to sense something like a pattern in the chaos.
The energy wasn't completely random; it was following pathways through his body, but those pathways were damaged or blocked, causing the force to build up in some areas while leaving others starved.
It was like a hydraulic system with broken valves and clogged pipes. The pressure was there, but it couldn't flow properly, creating dangerous buildups that threatened to destroy the entire system.
Very carefully, Silas began to experiment with directing the energy flow. Not controlling it, he was far too weak for that, but gently guiding it away from the worst blockages and toward areas where it could dissipate more safely.
The process was exhausting and painful, but gradually the worst of the agony began to subside. His breathing became easier, and the crushing sensation in his chest loosened slightly.
"His pulse is stabilizing," one of the healers said, surprise evident in his voice. "The fluctuations are decreasing."
Silas managed to open his eyes, though the effort left him feeling drained. The faces around his bed were a mixture of relief and amazement.
Lady Elara was closest, her hand resting gently on his arm, while Master Gareth stood at the foot of the bed with his arms crossed and a thoughtful expression on his weathered face.
"How do you feel, Your Highness?" the chief healer asked.
"Like I've been trampled by a cavalry charge," Silas whispered, his voice barely audible. "But alive."
"What happened?" Lady Elara asked. "You were getting worse, and then suddenly you began to improve."
Silas considered how to explain what he had done without revealing too much about his analytical approach to sword aura.
"I tried to work with the pain instead of fighting it," he said carefully. "Master Gareth's meditation training helped me understand what was happening inside my body."
The old warrior's eyes sharpened with interest. "You were channeling energy during the episode?"
"Not channeling, exactly. More like... redirecting it. Finding ways to let it flow instead of building up pressure."
Master Gareth nodded slowly. "That's more advanced than anything I've taught you. Most students take months to develop that level of internal awareness."
"Desperation is a powerful teacher," Silas replied weakly.
The healers continued their examinations, but it was clear that the worst of the crisis had passed. Silas's vital signs were still weak, but they were stable.
More importantly, he could think clearly again, and his body was responding to his commands, even if those responses were sluggish and limited.
"The meeting is in six hours," Chancellor Marcus said quietly. "Your Highness, perhaps we should consider postponing..."
"No," Silas interrupted, his voice gaining strength. "We can't afford to show weakness now. The empires are expecting to negotiate with a dying prince of a dying kingdom. If I appear strong enough to lead these discussions, it changes their entire perception of what we're offering."
"But your condition..."
"Will be managed," Silas said firmly. "Master Gareth, I need you to help me prepare. Not just physically, but in terms of sword aura techniques. If I can maintain better control over my energy flow, I should be able to function well enough for the meeting."
The old warrior looked skeptical. "Your Highness, what you did tonight was impressive, but it was also dangerous. Attempting advanced energy manipulation in your condition could kill you."
"And failing to secure an agreement with the empires will definitely kill me, along with everyone else in this kingdom," Silas replied. "I'd rather die trying to save Eldoria than live to watch it be conquered."
The room fell silent as everyone absorbed the implications of his words. Finally, Master Gareth nodded grimly.
"Very well. But we do this carefully, and we stop immediately if your condition worsens."
The next few hours were a blur of preparation.
Master Gareth worked with Silas on basic energy control techniques, helping him develop better awareness of his internal energy flow and teaching him simple methods for preventing dangerous buildups.
The progress was slow and exhausting, but by dawn, Silas could maintain stable energy circulation for extended periods.
Lady Elara and Chancellor Marcus briefed him on the final details of their proposal, reviewing the economic projections and strategic assessments that would form the foundation of their negotiations.
The plan was audacious instead of offering submission to one empire, Eldoria would propose becoming a neutral trading hub that served all three powers while maintaining its independence.
The key was demonstrating that Eldoria could provide unique value that would be lost if the kingdom were conquered.
Their strategic location, their potential for industrial development, and their neutrality in inter-empire conflicts made them more valuable as an independent ally than as a conquered territory.
As the sun rose over Ironhold, Silas prepared for what might be the most important meeting in the kingdom's history. His body was still weak, his energy reserves depleted by the night's crisis, but his mind was clear and focused.
The irony wasn't lost on him that his greatest weakness, his inability to properly channel life force, had led to his first real breakthrough in understanding sword aura.
By learning to work with his limitations rather than fighting them, he had discovered techniques that might eventually allow him to overcome them entirely.
It was a perfect metaphor for what he was trying to do with Eldoria itself. Instead of trying to match the empires' raw power, he would find ways to make the kingdom's weaknesses into strengths, its limitations into advantages.
"Are you ready, Your Highness?" Lady Elara asked as servants helped him into his formal robes.
Silas looked at himself in the mirror, seeing a pale, thin young man who looked far too fragile to be negotiating with empires. But behind the physical weakness, his eyes held a determination that hadn't been there before his reincarnation.
"As ready as I'll ever be," he said. "Let's go save a kingdom."
As they made their way to the throne room where the empire representatives waited, Silas reflected on how much had changed since his awakening in this world.
He had started as a confused engineer trapped in a dying prince's body. Now he was still trapped in that same weak body, but he was no longer confused about his purpose.
He was going to transform Eldoria into something the world had never seen before a kingdom that survived not through conquest or submission, but through innovation and strategic thinking. A realm that proved that intelligence and determination could triumph over raw power.
The question was whether his frail body could survive long enough to see that vision become reality.