THE GENERAL'S DISGRACED HEIR

A wry smile touched his lips. Unlike the David of the novel, this one came equipped with a bonus package – two unique skills. The first one was titled "[Eternal Gluttony]". The name alone sent a shiver down his spine. "A Feast for the Devourer," the description read, adding to the unsettling air. Intrigued yet apprehensive, he delved deeper, his breath catching as the skill's abilities unfolded.

Three sections stared back at him: Spoils, Soul Shards, and Soul Forge Domination. David's mind raced. This wasn't just the ability to eat a lot. This was something far more potent, something that hinted at dark powers and a hidden potential within him. A disquiet settled in his stomach, a strange mix of fear and fascination.

This new life, it seemed, was going to be a lot more complex than he initially thought.

David's gaze scanned the first ability under "[Eternal Gluttony]":

"[50% Chance of Spoils: There's a high probability you'll snatch a vanquished enemy's prized skills and techniques, adding them to your ever-growing arsenal.]" His jaw dropped. This was ridiculous! Overpowered, even.

Though, a wry thought flickered through his mind, "Maybe that's not such a bad thing in a world like this." The better the skill he yoinked, the better his chances of staying alive in this crazy new reality.

His eyes darted to the next ability: "[10% Chance of a Soul Shard: Rarely, you might snatch a fragment of your opponent's very soul, granting you points to level your status.]" "Whoa, that's actually pretty sweet!" he blurted out, a genuine sense of excitement bubbling within him.

But then, his gaze fell upon the last ability, and his eyes practically bugged out of his head. "[The Soulforge (0.5% Chance): An incredibly rare occurrence, but with a sliver of fortune, you might achieve Soulforge domination. This allows you to bind the very essence of your vanquished foe, forcing their soul to fight alongside you.]"

David gaped, his mind struggling to process the sheer power this ability held. Imagine! Turning your enemies into unwilling teammates? He could take down a freaking dragon if he managed to pull that off, even a weakened one! A devious grin stretched across his face. But a flicker of doubt played across his newfound confidence

. Would it be that simple, a guaranteed win just because he landed the final blow? He wasn't sure, but one thing was for certain - the Soulforge, if used correctly, could be a game-changer. The key, it seemed, lay in exploiting the right opportunity, a weakened foe, a well-placed strike – a gamble, yes, but with a potential payoff that was simply too good to ignore.

The thrill of the unknown sent a jolt of adrenaline through him.

This new life, with its bizarre twists and overpowered abilities, was starting to feel less like a curse and more like a twisted adventure waiting to unfold.

Curiosity burning a hole in his mind, David's eyes darted to the next skill: "[Celestial Wheel]." The name itself resonated with an air of mystery, like the spinning gears of fate. He dove into the description, "[Eye of the Fallen God: This mystic eye technique, whispered to be a legacy of a fallen ethos deity, grants you unparalleled perception.]"

The words hit him like a physical blow. David sank back onto the plush bed, his mouth agape in disbelief. "No way," he choked out, his voice a mere whisper. This wasn't just some run-of-the-mill skill; it was a legendary power passed down from a forgotten god, one he had never read in the 'Trial of Valor'.

He devoured the abilities section with a fervor bordering on desperation, afraid he might faint from the sheer awesomeness of it all. The first ability, "[Vision Unbound]," promised to reveal the invisible flow of mana, allowing him to see his opponent's attacks coming a mile away. Next came "[Clarity]," which transformed even the most blur-inducing speed into a clear, slow-motion dance.

He could anticipate strikes before they were even launched, react with lightning reflexes that would leave his enemies bewildered.

But "[Predict]" was the real show-stopper. It wasn't just about predicting; it was about peering into their very soul, understanding their fighting spirit in its raw, unfiltered state. This wasn't mere foresight – it was a communion, a glimpse into the deepest well of their being. David felt a shiver crawl up his spine.

This wasn't just a skill; it was a weapon that could dissect his opponents before they even knew they were fighting.

And then there was "[Evolving Intuition]." A tiny 2% chance, but the potential it held was staggering. With every fight, every clash of steel and surge of magic, he had the chance to develop an uncanny understanding of his opponent's very essence. It wasn't just learning their style; it was absorbing it, becoming one with it.

The more he fought, the more he evolved, transforming into a whirlwind of honed reflexes and unmatched intuition.

David let out a shaky breath, his heart hammering a frantic rhythm against his ribs. This wasn't just a second chance; it was a cheat code, a power-up that defied all logic. This new life, filled with the whispers of dead gods and the promise of limitless evolution, was starting to feel less like a drunken stupor and more like a legend in the making.

A legend fueled by forbidden knowledge and the very essence of combat itself.

David clambered out of the luxurious bed, the plush silk sheets an absurd contrast to the straw pallets of his previous life. His tunic hung loosely on his slender frame. But frailty? Not anymore.

A feral grin split his face as the moonlight, a silver blade through the curtains, illuminated the room. "This," he rasped, his voice raw with excitement, "This is f*cking awesome!"

Being reborn as the notorious drunkard, David De Gor, could have been a nightmare. He'd pictured a life of hangovers, scorn, and the stench of cheap ale. But fate, it seemed, had a twisted sense of humour. The skills he'd woken up with – Eternal Gluttony and the Celestial Wheel – were a game-changer.

He pushed back his long white hair, the moonlight glinting off silver strands. Here he was, a former street urchin with the fighting prowess of a seasoned MMA fighter, gifted with otherworldly abilities. The path to becoming a legend was wide open just like David's father, the great General of the Solarian Empire, the Dragon Slayer and the Conqueror of the West.

But a shadow of doubt flickered across his triumphant grin. The memory of the novel, the main volume, sent a shiver down his spine. The events leading to the cataclysmic Cascade – a world-ending disaster – were etched in his mind.

If he truly wanted to have the influence of a king, to live in raw debauchery, to carve his own destiny, then he had to deviate from the script. He had to rewrite the story. And one pivotal character loomed large in his mind: the Archon of Warfare.

A plan, audacious and risky, began to take shape. A plan that could rewrite fate itself, and maybe, just maybe, secure him his own glorious harem throne. The night thrummed with possibilities, and a dark laughter, devoid of the drunken stupor of old David, echoed through the opulent chamber. David, the reborn, the strategist, the one who would defy destiny, had arrived.