Sylvara's Rebirth: A New Dawn for Abel Free Preview

"Sorry, Your Highness Agares. Your fertility value is 0."

"With all this tech, there's really nothing that can help?"

"My apologies, Your Highness. A fertility value of 0 means even artificial methods won't work. You'll never have your own child."

Agares Vaelor slipped on his white gloves and stood tall, straight as a pine.

His dark green military pants showed off his strong legs. With sharp features and eyes dark as night, he looked icy and unapproachable.

"I got it."

The doctor broke into a cold sweat. As Agares turned to leave, he asked, "Your Highness, the Empire requires a fertility value of 0 to be made public. Should I ... "

Agares paused, his boots clicking. "Follow the Empire's rules."

"Understood," the doctor replied.

Half an hour later.

The breeding center officially posted the notice: Prince Agares' fertility value was 0.

The news instantly went viral across the Empire's Starnet.

Now everyone knew that their idol, every girl's dream man, the Empire's commander and shield—Agares—was infertile. His fertility value was 0.

"I don't want to marry him! His fertility value is 0. If I marry him, I'll never have children!" shouted Miralys Mordrel, the eldest daughter of the Mordrels. She was freaking out.

Her mother, Seraphine Mordrel, looked troubled. What a mess. The Empire hadn't had a naturally born child in 200 years.

Her family was an old noble house, and the Emperor had ordered Miralys to marry Agares.

He even recalled Agares from the border for this marriage. But when Agares checked his fertility value—zero. If he'd scored even a one or two, there might've been hope—the marriage could've gone ahead.

"Mom," Miralys said, her eyes red. "My fertility value is 20. If I can find someone with a matching value of 20 to 30, I could get pregnant naturally and have a natural baby.

"Just think about it. A sweet little baby with no genetic defects, calling you 'Grandma'. Isn't it wonderful?"

Seraphine also wanted a sweet grandchild. But the Emperor's order was non-negotiable. To disobey would be to defy the crown. Even nobles like them could be exiled to some trash planet.

"Miralys, His Highness Agares is of noble rank. He's a good match for you—"

"Excuse me?" Miralys cut her off, stomping her foot. "I'm not marrying an infertile man! I'm going to find Zephyrion and marry him. His fertility value is 15!"

Miralys ran out, but suddenly stopped at the door. She saw a girl resting under a fake tree, and an idea sparked in her mind. She rushed back, grabbed Seraphine's hand, and pulled her to the door. "I know how we can avoid marrying His Highness Agares, and the Emperor won't blame us."

Seraphine was sharp. She followed her daughter's gaze. Under the fake tree, a girl was sunbathing on a chair.

The girl was Sylvara Feywin, her niece—the only child her brother and his wife managed to bring into the world after spending all their savings at the fertility center.

Too bad she had genetic issues—no mental energy, and an H-grade physical stats, basically a weakling.

Three months ago, they took her on a vacation to a mining planet, hoping she'd be killed by a beast. Against all odds, she survived and came back, but she had amnesia. She only knew her name and nothing else.

"Well, Mom?" Miralys urged Seraphine.

Seraphine was tempted. "I'll handle it. I can't let you marry a man with a fertility value of zero. Not even if it's the Emperor."

Miralys jumped up happily. "Thank you, Mom! I'll be waiting for your good news."

Seraphine poured a glass of water and carried it to the fake tree.

Sylvara woke up on the lounge chair. She had shiny hair and a chubby, baby-like face. Her voice was soft and nasal as she said, "Aunt Seraphine, you're here."

Seeing her try to sit up, Seraphine quickly pressed her down. "You're not feeling well. Just stay put."

Sylvara, once a powerhouse in the apocalypse, slipped up during a fight with the Zombie King and ended up crossing into the Abel Star System.

The place was a bit deserted and had some small wars, but it was better than the apocalypse. Sylvara loved it.

She could play dumb and use her looks to charm a noble family. Life under their roof was easy, and she had no complaints.

The noble lady told her to stay down, and she felt too warm and comfortable to move; she stayed put. "Thanks, Aunt Seraphine. I'll just lie here a little longer."

That good-for-nothing! Seraphine gritted her teeth. Her brother and sister-in-law spent all their savings on Sylvara and had to leave for another planet to make money.

They dumped her here to be looked after, but haven't sent a dime in three years. Seraphine had been paying for all of her medical bills and natural food.

This trash didn't get eaten by a beast, and now she was using her amnesia as an excuse to live it up as the Mordrels' young lady.

"Sylvara, I want to talk to you about something," Seraphine said, taking a breath and sitting down with a friendly look.

Sylvara opened her eyes a bit. Did she figure out I'm not actually Sylvara? Is she about to cut me off?

She pushed herself up from the lounge chair and sat up straight, hands on her lap, looking obedient. "What is it, Aunt Seraphine? I'm all ears."

Seraphine looked serious. "Your parents left you in my care, so you're like my child. The Emperor has ordered that the eldest daughter of the house to marry His Highness Agares."

Sylvara blinked, playing dumb. "Then have Miralys marry him. Isn't she the eldest?"

Seraphine almost choked. This useless girl! Amnesia made her sharp-tongued and annoying. "No, you're part of my family now. You're the eldest, so the one getting married is you."

Sylvara gasped. My easy life is over after just three months? I have to get married?

"It's you. Look, this is the man you're going to marry. The Empire's shield and heartthrob, His Highness Agares." Seraphine put her cup down, tapped on her wrist optical computer, and showed a photo of Agares.

Sylvara squinted, her pupils shrinking. The man in the photo looked like he'd just left the battlefield, still in his dark green combat uniform. Smoke lingered behind him, blood splattered on his face. His dark eyes were cold, staring straight ahead, like a bloodstained blade, sharp and terrifying.

"Pretty good-looking," Sylvara said. His eyes, in particular, were chillingly beautiful and unfathomable.

Seraphine was delighted. "If you like him, then I'll submit the application to the registry for your marriage."

Sylvara put on an innocent look and said accusingly, "I didn't say I liked him. Aren't you rushing this a bit? You didn't think about my feelings at all."

Over the last three months, she'd learned that in Earth's 100th year of apocalypse, people from the Abel Star System came to Earth, rescued survivors, and married them into different races.

These races depended on high-tech for intermarriage. For 3,000 years, they'd been using science to grow kids in breeding centers—choosing genes, looks, and intelligence.

The later generations were good-looking and had stronger mental energy.

But genetic defects always popped up. On the severe end, there was mental instability; on the mild end, a lack of emotional connection. Worst of all, they couldn't reproduce.

Later research found that natural pregnancy and childbirth—though they couldn't pick looks—could prevent genetic defects, stabilize mental energy, and boost fertility.

Unfortunately, they realized it too late. The Troya Empire hadn't had a naturally born baby in 200 years.

That wasn't the worst part. What's worse was the average fertility value of men and women in the Troya Empire had dropped to 20. So even with scientific help, most kids who didn't die young still ended up as duds—weak, with no mental energy.

Seraphine cursed inwardly but smiled. "You said he looked good, right? That means you like him! Look, he's so many people's dream man. Many women want to marry him!"

Sylvara's eyes followed Seraphine's hand as she scrolled the optical computer. Suddenly, she grabbed Seraphine's hand and gasped. "Is His Highness Agares's fertility value ... zero?"

Seraphine quickly swiped away, flustered. "You saw wrong. His Highness Agares is the Troya Empire's pride and fortress. How could his fertility value be zero?

"Besides, you're my niece. Do you think I would harm you?"

Sylvara was sure of what she saw—that ridiculously attractive Agares had a fertility value of zero.

Perfect.

She finally found someone with a fertility value of zero.

Sylvara stood up and said firmly, "Aunt Seraphine, I'll marry him."

Seraphine was stunned by the pleasant surprise. She was sure Sylvara had seen Agares's fertility value was zero.

She still wants to marry him?

Is she planning something?

Seraphine cleared her throat. "Sylvara, once you register your marriage, you can't just divorce on a whim. Are you sure you want to marry him?"

In the Troya Empire, anyone with a fertility value of zero was listed publicly.

It warned others that they couldn't have kids and wasn't an option.

It also reminded people that marrying them meant no backing out. If you regretted it, divorce meant losing all your assets and having to pay your ex a huge yearly alimony until they died.

But the royal family was an exception. They had privileges—especially when it came to the Emperor's marriage orders. No one could refuse. That's why Seraphine was scared of being exiled for breaking the engagement.

Sylvara pointed at Agares's photo. "I'm sure I want to marry him. Aunt Seraphine, please help me apply."

As someone who had crossed over from Earth's apocalypse 3,000 years ago, Sylvara had already secretly checked her own fertility value. It was 100%.

By Abel's interstellar fertility standards, if she were with any man who had a fertility value above zero, she'd definitely end up pregnant with twins.

And in the Troya Empire, anyone with a fertility value over 50 wasn't just dragged into research labs, they were also forced into pairings, all in the name of natural pregnancies and births.

Sylvara knew if they found out about her body, she wouldn't just be sent to a research lab—she'd be turned into a breeding machine.

To avoid being studied and forced to have kids, she chose Agares. He was handsome, a prince, a commander, and a genius.

"Mom, hurry up and file the application for her!" Miralys rushed over when she heard Sylvara agree and saw her mother hesitating.

Seraphine's hands shook with excitement. "Okay, I'll do it right now."

Miralys was impatient and, worried something might go wrong, took Seraphine's optical computer and submitted the marriage application herself.

In the palace.

Agares, dressed in a military uniform, was saying goodbye to his brother, Relos Vaelor, Emperor of the Troya Empire. "Your Majesty, the Swarmborn on Kolar Planet aren't a threat anymore. I'm going back to the front and probably won't be back for a long time. Take care of yourself."

Relos had planned to arrange a marriage to force his brother to return to the capital, but the medical report showed Agares' fertility value was zero.

"I've already arranged your marriage to the Mordrels' eldest daughter. She won't mind—"

"Your Majesty." Agares cut Relos off, looking up at his brother on the throne. His voice was calm and low. "I don't need royal privileges, and I won't take away a woman's right to be a mother. Let's forget this marriage."

Relos took a deep breath; he also had no children. "Okay, fine. Take care of yourself."

Agares raised his right hand, then lowered it in a formal royal salute. "Take care, Your Majesty."

He turned and walked out of the palace, his military boots striking the floor as he held himself straight and tall.

Just as he reached the exit, Relos cried out from behind him, "Agares, hold on!"

Agares turned and saw his brother rush down from the throne, losing his composure, to meet him. "The Mordrels' eldest daughter agrees to marry you. She already filed an application to the Marriage Registration Center. I just approved it."

Agares's expressionless face became stern. He said coldly, "My fertility value is zero. I reject this marriage. I'm filing for divorce right now."

Relos stiffened at his words. "No! The Mordrels sent the application to the Marriage Registration Center, and I didn't use any royal privilege. I won't let you get divorced. Absolutely not."

Agares smirked as his dark eyes locked on Relos, cold and emotionless, like a robot.

"We both know that the breeding centers won't make children for people with a fertility value of zero. They'll end up fighting and unhappy because they have no children. What's the point?"

Relos understood, but this was his little brother. Even without kids, he still wanted Agares to have someone to love him, talk to him, and care for him.

"Agares, I don't want you to be alone for the rest of your life."

Agares's face was stern, his expression like frozen steel. He dropped to one knee, pressed his right hand to his chest, and swore, "I'll devote the rest of my life to the Troya Empire, guarding it until death."

Relos looked devastated, taking a step back with sadness in his eyes.

Their parents had gone through the breeding center, producing over a dozen children, but only the two of them survived. Now ...

Agares rose to his feet, stared intently at Relos, and left quickly and decisively.

Sylvara returned to her small room. She wasn't sure if the girl who looked like her, also named Sylvara, had been eaten by beasts or somehow tossed back in the apocalypse 3,000 years ago.

She knew coming here had made her look 18 or 19, gaining her an extra decade of life. Her mental energy was now at its peak, perfectly controlled. Her plant-based healing could bring seeds to full bloom and fruit, completely soil-free.

Plus, the average lifespan for people in the Abel Star System was 150 to 200 years. With mental energy reaching Level 9, it was said they could live up to 300.

She didn't know what level her mental energy was, or whether her genetically flawless body from the apocalypse could live to 150 like the people of the Abel Star System.

Crunch.

Sylvara plucked a red apple from the tree hidden behind her door and took a bite.

She realized she was worrying too much.

Might as well relax and snack on an apple. After all, these things were considered natural food in the Abel Star System. Even ugly ones cost 1,000 stellar coins.

The crisp, fragrant apple she was munching on was worth at least 5,000 stellar coins.

Ordinary families couldn't afford them; only nobles and wealthy merchants could, and the best quality ones were priceless.

She hadn't even finished the apple when there was a knock on the door.

Right after, Seraphine's excited voice called from outside, "Sylvara! Hurry up and get ready! We're welcoming His Highness Agares!"

Sylvara sighed. Less than two hours after the marriage application was approved, and Agares was already here to pick her up.

The infertile man seemed even more desperate to marry than she was.

I've hit the jackpot! I've gotta cling to this powerful man and never let go.

"Okay, coming!" Sylvara ate the apple in her hand in a few bites. She used her mental energy to turn the core into nothing.

Just to be safe, she plucked one more apple from the tree behind the door. Then, using her mental energy, she made the remaining apples and the tree vanish, just like the core.

She tucked the apple into her small bag, grabbed it, and opened the door.

Seraphine saw Sylvara still in the same outfit and scolded, "Why didn't you change? Still wearing that?"

White dress, short boots, loose long hair—looked weak and fragile. How could His Highness Agares like that?

Change clothes?

Into what?

Combat gear? So I can go fight the Swarmborn and take on a Fourth Civilization? Do they have the guts to send me out there?

"Aunt Seraphine, this is perfect. I just saw something on Starnet that said His Highness Agares loves white dresses," Sylvara said, coughing lightly and lying with a straight face in a weak voice. "So I'm wearing it for him to make him fall for me."

His Highness Agares liked white dresses?

Seraphine thought about it. I've never seen that online.

But since Sylvara was cooperating, she dropped the topic. She urged, "Come on. It's time to meet His Highness Agares."

Sylvara nodded, hooked her apple-filled bag onto her wrist, hands in her pockets, huffing and puffing with every couple of steps as she followed Seraphine.

Before they even reached the door, Seraphine's optical computer on her wrist beeped. She checked it, and her face went pale. She grabbed Sylvara, pulling her back.

Confused, Sylvara asked innocently, "Aren't we going to meet His Highness Agares?"

"Shut up!" Seraphine growled, dragging her to a small aircraft and roughly shoving her inside.

After Sylvara was shoved in, Seraphine was afraid she'd run, so she grabbed the chain on the aircraft and strapped her to the chair.

Sylvara blinked, looking down at the metal chain holding her. She could break the chain or even blow up the aircraft.

But she was confused.

Wasn't she just going to meet her so-called husband?

She wasn't trying to run away, so why was she being tied up?

"Aunt Seraphine, what's wrong?" Sylvara asked softly, pausing for a beat, then sweetened her tone, "I won't run away. I promise I'll be good."

"Nothing's wrong. Wait here," Seraphine said calmly, closing the aircraft's door and walking away.

She wasn't going to tell her about the message she just got from the Emperor's guard.

The guard had told her that Agares was coming to get a divorce.

He also passed along the Emperor's message. If the Mordrels agreed to divorce, their whole family would be exiled to a trash planet.

Even if that trash wanted to marry Agares, no one knew if she'd change her mind when she saw him.

To keep the Mordrels from being exiled, she had to get her out of the Centria planet. If Agares couldn't find her, no divorce could happen.

"Mom, weren't you supposed to take that trash to meet His Highness Agares at the gate?" Miralys asked Seraphine, who was banging on her door. "Why are you here?"

Seraphine barged into her room, packed her daily stuff into a spatial button. "You're going to school early. Take Sylvara with you."

Miralys shouted, "Why? She's married Agares now, isn't she? Why do I have to take her?"

I absolutely won't take that trash! Zephyrion just messaged me asking about that useless girl.

He doesn't care about me at all.

Seraphine said quickly and maliciously, "His Highness Agares doesn't want to marry her and is coming to divorce her. The Emperor ordered that if we agree to the divorce, we'll be exiled to some garbage planet. So you're taking her to school.

"I've made arrangements there. You two will enroll as new students. During field training, find a way to get her killed by alien beasts, or make her life miserable at school. She's so weak and useless, she'll commit suicide if she's bullied.

"Either way, once she's dead, the Emperor won't blame us. We'll keep the honor of being related to the royal family. If the Emperor feels guilty, our status might even go up."

Miralys' eyes lit up.

She'd been sick of that freeloader for ages—living in their house for years and always flirting with Zephyrion Quill.

"Relax, Mom. I'll handle this. I promise I'll make sure that good-for-nothing doesn't make it out alive."

Seraphine shoved the spatial button into Miralys's hand. "I packed a few things for you. I'll send money later so you can buy what you need. Hurry up, His Highness Agares is almost here."

Determined to get some benefit from Sylvara's death, Miralys ran to the aircraft, climbed in, and started it up.

The aircraft lifted off, and as it left the Mordrel Estate, it brushed past Agares's aircraft.

Sylvara looked out the window and caught a glimpse of Agares.

He really is every bit the national heartthrob!Even his profile made hearts skip a beat.

With his status and that whole infertility thing, he was basically a walking jackpot.

So why was her cheap aunt making her leave?

Did she change her mind about this "jackpot?"

"What are you staring at? No matter how handsome he is, a man who can't have kids isn't a man at all." Miralys snorted. Shield of the Empire? A heartthrob? So what? If he can't make a baby, he's not a man.

Sylvara moved her hand. Snap! The metal chain restraining her broke. She held it up, looking innocent. "Where are we going? The chain broke. What should we do?"

Miralys scowled. The chains on the aircraft were for safety; they wouldn't snap even under extreme pressure.

Why did the one on her snap?

"Miralys?" Sylvara waved a hand near Miralys's face, like some clueless tourist from a garbage planet. "Is this expensive?"

Miralys snapped out of it, cursing the ignorant girl under her breath. "It's cheap. It broke, so what? Sit down! We're going to pick up Zephyrion and head to the Fifth Military Academy on Fifth Sector planet."

Sylvara nodded, still confused. The original Sylvara had weak physical power and mental energy—not qualified for a military academy. How could she get in under this girl's name?

Could it be ...

The Mordrels figured out I'm not the real Sylvara? They cancelled the marriage and planned to lure me to the military school to quietly get rid of me?