I believe you mean the fiction Forgotten Conqueror, which is published on Royal Road.
Here a piece of the novel from chapter 2.
Twenty-seven.
That was the number of times he had been thrown back into this world, only to be promptly dispatched and returned to the empty void to wallow in his own regret at how powerless he was when it truly mattered, and his sorrow.
Memories that the Entity otherwise known as Rhultal did not want to remember yet could never forget flashes through his mind.
Broken and bleeding parents even before he had yet come of age. His life growing up in the hands of those who would step on him and use him for their own purposes. Watching those he love and cherished in agony and mercilessly slaughtered. His hatred that sought out power. his lack of control allowing the darkness to slowly overpower him, his pain at what he had become when that was all over, and the people who allied with the monsters and brought him to his death.
Yet for some reason he did not die. His body may have lost all functions and the body has rotted with the passage of time, but his spirit can recall everything he’s done, and the knowledge of his past remains solely his without dispersing into the ether. unable to move on, eventually his spirit would merge into a being for the cycle of life, but upon birth, for reasons unbeknownst to him, he would most definitely be culled upon the sweet air of freedom; excruciating pain, followed by death.
Over and over this event has already occurred twenty-six times, and this was the twenty-seventh. He had already understood that this was his own private hell for everything he has done.
Bracing himself for the inevitable fate that follows, the thing that was once known as Rhultal falls silent relinquishing his will and anticipation at the prospect of finally being whole. He silently waits for the hands of death to drive him back. He heard shouting and yelling, and at some point it felt like the hands of death were upon him. For what felt like eons, he waited with abated breath. Yet death did not follow. Instead, what he felt were two wavering hands full of warmth, grasping holding onto him. The entity remained in silence, unwilling to make a sound. After an eternity, the hands holding him start shaking, and he felt the atmosphere change. A soft cry could be heard. Suddenly, the arms were clinging on to him as if clinging onto its dear life, and a loud wailing noise erupts.
Surprised at this turn of event and the possibility of life, the entity opens his mouth and starts crying with all the strength that his tiny body could muster.
As if in accordance to his cry, the wailing stopped and a sound of sobbing delight could be heard.
Confused yet elated, he sought to use this chance to once again walk upon Lovis.
