From Slave to King: My Rebate System Built Me a Kingdom With Beauties! Chapter 202: Who Am I?

Byung was in the middle of nowhere, standing in a dense forest where ancient trees towered overhead, their branches so thick they blocked out most of the light. But there was a problem—a serious, terrifying problem that made his chest tighten with panic.

His mories were fuzzy, fragnted like shattered glass. He had no idea who he was or where he was. The knowledge should have been there, fundantal and accessible, but when he reached for it, he found only gaps and shadows. Byung looked around desperately, trying to find sothing—anything—he could recognize, so landmark or feature that would trigger understanding.

Nothing. The forest was alien, unfamiliar, wrong sohow in ways he couldn’t articulate.

Byung had no idea what was going on, and the confusion mixed with rising terror until he could barely breathe. He began to sob profusely, tears streaming down his face as panic overwheld rational thought. His hands trembled as he clutched at his head, trying to force the mories to return, trying to rember why he was here, who he was, what had happened.

But there was nothing. Just emptiness where his identity should have been.

What he didn’t know—what he couldn’t know in his current state—was that the elf who had teleported him had sent him deep within one of the forests restricted to elves, a place so forbidden that even speaking its na was taboo among her kind. This forest had no exit. It was designed as a maze, a prison that housed other dangerous entities who had dared to attack elven territories or ventured too far where they were not ant to be.

The forest’s true horror wasn’t the lack of escape routes or the confusing, identical landscape. It was what it did to those trapped within. Entry ca with a loss of identity, mories stripped away systematically until the prisoners couldn’t rember who they were, where they ca from, or why they should even try to escape. It made escape nearly impossible because you couldn’t seek what you didn’t rember wanting.

But the one thing prisoners retained was their violent nature, their base survival instincts stripped of civilizing influence or rational restraint. They would kill each other long before they found freedom, driven by paranoia and fear and the fundantal need to survive against threats they couldn’t understand.

Byung looked around in mounting confusion, his enhanced senses telling him danger surrounded him but unable to process why or from what direction. There was no logical reason for him to be here that he could rember, but the fact he couldn’t recall anything made it nearly impossible for him to string together even a few coherent thoughts about his situation.

Either way, so deep instinct told him it was bad news. He had to get out of here, had to escape this place that felt wrong in his bones.

The elf had sent him here specifically because this was the only place outside the elven kingdom itself that carried her magical signature, the only location she could reach through teleportation, the other was directly to the capital. There was no telling how long this prison had existed—centuries? Millennia? And if it had existed back when the worlds were still one before the barrier was erected, then so of the creatures trapped here might be from the dark continent, things that predated the separation.

The elves themselves had never physically entered this forest. Only a select few among the highest ranks were given the magical patterns required to send prisoners there, but it was absolutely forbidden for them to enter the maze themselves. The risks were too great, the loss of identity affecting even those who created the prison.

This ant they had no idea what else might be lurking in the depths beyond the entities they’d deliberately sent there. But one thing was certain—there was no way for whatever was within to escape through normal ans. The prison was perfect in its cruel efficiency.

Before Byung could blink or process his next move, he noticed there was sothing lurking in the distance. He couldn’t see it clearly through the dense foliage and strange shadows, but he could sense its presence. More than that, he could sll it—a scent that triggered every survival instinct he possessed, screaming danger.

The energy and pressure emanating from whoever or whatever this was sent shivers racing down his spine, made his muscles lock up with primal fear. But the terror intensified when he realized the presence wasn’t coming from just one direction. There were multiple entities with similar energy signatures surrounding his position, moving through the forest with purpose.

A distant part of his mind wondered—wouldn’t it have made more sense for the elf to send the dwarf here instead? But that thought was fragnted, aningless without context he couldn’t access.

Byung ran without thinking, pure survival instinct overriding confusion and fear. His legs carried him away from the strongest concentration of threatening presences, weaving between massive tree trunks and leaping over gnarled roots that seed deliberately placed to trip him.

Thanks to his enhanced nose, he could track the scents of the entities around him, could sll them well enough to avoid direct encounters by changing direction when their paths would intersect with his. The ability was the only thing keeping him alive as he fled deeper into the maze.

Byung managed to run and temporarily escape the imdiate area, putting distance between himself and whatever had been closing in. But the place felt endless, oppressive in its saness. Everywhere looked identical—the sa ancient trees, the sa thick underbrush, the sa dim light filtering through dense canopy. There were no landmarks, no way to track his progress or determine if he was moving in circles.

But his luck would eventually run out. It always did.

Byung burst through a particularly thick section of foliage and ran directly into soone, colliding with enough force to send both of them stumbling backward. He caught his balance quickly, enhanced reflexes preventing a fall, and looked up to see who he’d encountered.

It was a cloaked. But it was a woman, her distinctive features unmistakable even in the forest’s dim light.

Byung’s entire body scread at him to defend himself, every instinct warning him of danger even though he had no idea why. The woman’s presence triggered responses he didn’t understand—fear mixed with sothing he couldn’t quite place his fingers on.

His hand moved to his waist, finding a weapon there he didn’t rember carrying, fingers closing around its handle as his body prepared for violence.

She was a prisoner too. She must have done sothing terrible or she wouldn’t be here.

The lady stared back at him, as if she knew him even though he had no mory of her. Her lips parted as if to speak, but Byung didn’t wait to hear what she might say.

He turned and ran again, crashing through the undergrowth, putting distance between himself and this new threat his instincts couldn’t classify or understand.

"It has been 300 years since the last ti sothing was sent here..." The lady muttered under her breath as her hood slipped from her head to reveal pointed ears.