He still didn't know who placed him into this body, but if there was a chance, he should take it. Though he'd be lying if he said he wouldn't have preferred being born into a respectable and powerful aristocratic family. Instead, he was on his own. He had no wise teacher to reveal the secrets of power. Not even an ordinary family.

No education, no money. He was orphaned and neglected. It was a rough start, to say the least.

But heroes were born from tragedies. And what else could anyone be when their goal was to kill the God of Death?

His path led him to the capital. A series of coincidences helped him to get a job in a hospital and become a healer's apprentice. But the same coincidences led to problems. A clash with aristocrats, their revenge for daring to get in their way.

When one problem presents itself, you can bet that another one is waiting just around the corner.

The dead don't sleep. They weave their plots, reaping a bloody harvest. So why don't we make them sweat a little? Show the manhunters that roles can change in a blink of an eye.