I Just Inherited The Arcane Emperor's Legacy - Chapter 7: Inspiration

“Shit, why this guy!?”Of all the unique characters he could’ve transmigrated as, it had to be the bastard instructor.Vanitas Astrea.A third-rate middle game boss, who was dismissed from the University after severe allegations, losing his teaching profession and ultimately, exiled from the Empire.“.....How did I even get here!?”Vanitas must now circumvent his way around this new world, confront his past, mend broken relationships, and prevent looming tragedies that would lead to his demise.

One day, when a novelist woke up from a restless sleep,he realized that he had transformed into his 12-year-old self.

“Heroes killed my parents. Now I wear the mask of one. Until I can bury them all.”At seven years old, Hernan Vale watched his parents — two powerful heroes — brutally executed in their own home by the very people they trusted most: the legendary super-team known as the Zodiac 13.They thought he was dead.They made sure the world blamed villains.They covered their tracks.But Hernan survived — and never forgot.Ten years later, under a false name, Hernan enters the prestigious Hero Academy, hailed as a prodigy. To the world, he’s a rising star. To his classmates, he’s charming, calm, unstoppable.But inside?He’s a weapon. Waiting. Smiling. Counting names.As he trains to become a licensed hero, fights real villains, and rises through the ranks, Hernan plays the long game — earning the trust of the Zodiac, learning their routines, studying their weaknesses. One by one, he’ll bring them down.And this time, he won’t hide in the closet.But the deeper he goes, the more blood he spills — the more he wonders if he’s becoming worse than the monsters he’s hunting.And when love, loyalty, and lies collide, Hernan may have to decide:Will he save the world like they think he will...or finish burning it down?

[Longevity + Discipleship + No Female Lead + Lighthearted Humor with No Tragic Moments]When his master picks food, he spins the table there;When his master chants spells, he chats without a care;When his master takes rest, he sings a lively song;When his master lies late, he bangs the pot along;His master lives on long, but his life is rather short;His master lays him down on the hillside, as a sort;His master lifts a cup, but he won’t take a drink;His master shares a tale, but he won’t stop to think;His master holds a feast, but he leaves the table wide;His master calls his soul, but he’s nowhere to abide.Spring returns to the hills, with blooms so bright and fair,Yet master and disciple are parted, one in heaven, one elsewhere.