Two months had passed… since the birth of the newest heir to the Noxvir bloodline.
Two months without rest… without the sweetness of silence.
Each day was a battlefield—
Not against the world… but against his own reflection.
Against the glowing shadow of a past life that refused to fade.
He trained relentlessly in the Steps of Death—not simply repeating them, but tearing through their boundaries.
Where others needed months just to grasp the first level, he had already reached halfway through the second…
As if his body wasn't following a path—it was chasing destiny.
But the truth?
He wasn't just training his muscles.
He was running from his mind.
Every push-up, every strike, every drop of sweat… was an attempt to silence the chaos within.
And so, time passed… like hell.
As if someone had placed a burning coal on his head—
And all he could do was wait… for it to cool.
Kraye was in awe.
A child who hadn't even reached the age to hold a sword…
And yet, he was already surpassing grown warriors.
But awe… soon gave way to fear.
At this rate… he might surpass The former Noxvir himself.
And what would the world do… if it learned of such terrifying talent?
She began taking precautions.
No servant was allowed near the training grounds.
Doors were sealed.
And Lara was assigned to watch in silence—never uttering a word.
All of it… just to keep eyes away.
Then, after weeks of observation, she made her decision.
She stood before him in the training hall, a sly glint in her eye, and said:
"We're stopping the Steps of Death.
It's time to begin the true sword art of the family.
From this day forward, Noxvir… you'll grow by reinforcing every stone in the foundation of your body.
Prepare yourself… to walk the path of a true Noxvir practitioner."
She smiled—like one throwing down a gauntlet before a chosen knight.
"Let's see… if the new Noxvir can surpass the one who came before him."
His focus ignited. His ears sharpened. His presence stilled.
Kraye smiled—she had found the key to his attention.
"I knew how to get through to you…
I'll tell you about him—at dinner."
A faint smile crept onto the king's face.
The voice of the Azure Sovereign slithered into his mind:
"Ah… curiosity. Very well.
That man… was a monster."
The king's smile widened—darker, sharper:
"Seems tonight's dinner… will be satisfying."
Inside the training hall, the king stood still.
His eyes were closed—absent from the world—yet his senses were drawn entirely toward Kraye.
She moved before him with the ease of someone who knew exactly where her feet belonged. Then she stopped and said:
"Today… you take your first step into the legacy of the Bloody Shadow."
Her voice shifted—tenderness giving way to steel, as if she spoke of something sacred and untouchable:
"The Bloody Shadow isn't just a combat style… it's a philosophy.
It erases the boundary between offense and defense.
It hides the killing intent until the final heartbeat… when there's no room left to escape."
She raised her sword and continued:
"This legacy consists of five levels… and a single final technique."
Then, with precision sharpening her tone, she added:
"Today, we'll merge Cloud Step with Water Step, alongside the first sword technique of our family.
The result… will be your first level: Silent Falling Steps."
She began circling him slowly, each word measured:
"When a Noxvir moves…
He is neither seen, nor heard.
And yet, he is always… closer than his enemy believes."
Then she broke down the technique's core:
Moving without making a sound. Gliding over the ground without losing balance. Reducing all trace of movement to disorient the enemy. Approaching unnoticed, as if even the shadow had betrayed perception. Using visual and auditory misdirection to confuse the senses.
But then came the warning:
"It's not perfect.
If your opponent's strength exceeds yours by even half a level, the illusion breaks and the technique fails.
That's why… it's only the first level."
**
Kraye began demonstrating the movement, slow and deliberate—like drawing patterns on water.
The king followed with uncanny precision.
Though blind, his motions were exact.
His calm made him seem indifferent—yet every step he took mirrored hers with unsettling perfection.
Then… he stopped.
Something in the technique stirred an old memory.
It resembled a method he had once created in a former life—
A technique he called Sensory Suppression.
An idea struck him.
"What if I combined the two…?
What would I create?"
The voice of the Azure Sovereign slipped into his thoughts—smooth and low:
"Need a little help, my king?"
The king smiled—
That same smile from the day their pact was forged.
Hunger. Ambition. Desire.
But this time… something else.
A flicker of hatred—unprovoked, but undeniable.
A betrayal written across his face before he could suppress it.
The Sovereign replied more seriously:
"You are now ready to use the first of my powers: Clairvoyance.
You'll create a repeated temporal field, bound to one fixed future path.
Inside it, you can test your fusion.
And if the fusion is possible… you'll see it."
The king smiled again—a dark, sharpened grin.
The Sovereign exhaled softly, unease curling in his voice for the first time:
"Please… stop smiling like that.
You're making me nervous."
Suddenly, Kraye broke the silence, her voice edged with disbelief:
"You're smiling…
Care to tell me what's bringing you so much joy?"
He turned toward her calmly, his voice devoid of emotion:
"I think… I'm about to create a new technique."
Her expression froze.
He always surprised her—but this time, it felt like she was staring at something that didn't belong to the realm of mortals.
His talent towered higher and higher—like a mountain that refused to end.
She swallowed her shock and steadied herself, then said softly:
"Very well… I'm here.
I support you… and I believe in you."
**
But what she didn't expect… happened.
For the first time since his birth, she saw his eyelids begin to rise.
Not suddenly—
But slowly…
As if his eyes were parting through another dimension.
And then… everything changed.
The air grew heavy.
The wind began to rise.
The earth beneath them trembled.
As if nature itself whispered:
He has returned. One of us.
Kraye collapsed to the ground, unable to withstand the pressure—despite her strength.
Even when she unleashed her aura in defense, it only let her lift her head… while lying flat.
She looked up.
Two glowing eyes—radiant blue—surrounded by a shapeless white aura.
Alive.
Breathing.
But from within the king's vision… it was something else entirely.
What he saw wasn't beautiful.
It was majestic.
A boundless void filled with potential.
A space without rules—only what he imagined could exist.
Despite his advanced analytical mind, the structure of this temporal field was so complex… it defied understanding.
But he began.
He visualized the fusion.
A shadow formed. Faceless. Pure black.
It moved back and forth…
But it felt incomplete.
So he pushed his mind further.
Once… then again…
And on the third attempt—
It emerged.
Not just a fusion.
But creation.
Something even he had never imagined in his past lives.
A shadow moved outside logic.
It glided in silence.
It deceived light itself.
**
The king whispered to himself—expressionless:
"Need… is the ugliest form of humiliation.
But it's far too clever to show itself.
It disguises itself as a gift.
A mask you willingly wear.
Then convinces you…
You chose it all along."
"But I didn't choose it…
I simply… allowed it."
**
He repeated the technique's sequence.
Again and again—until every motion was engraved in his mind.
But with each repetition, he began to understand—
The Sovereign's power… always demands a price.
And at the peak of fusion—
The pain struck.
Nerve-shredding agony.
Burning veins.
Cells dissolving.
A heartbeat on the edge of rupture.
Then came the roar—
The Azure Sovereign's voice thundered through the field:
"Your body is far too weak to handle this power, my king!"
To Kraye… it wasn't just a fall.
It was a nightmare—alive and unraveling before her eyes.
Just moments ago, he stood tall—radiant with a force so overwhelming, even nature dared not defy him.
And in the next instant… he collapsed.
No warning.
No signal.
His body slammed into the ground like a mountain caving in from within.
Then came the scream.
It wasn't just a sound—it was an earthquake.
As if the world itself had been crushed inside his throat.
Blood gushed from his mouth… his ears… his eyes.
His veins turned traitor. His skin betrayed him.
Kraye—despite all her strength—lost all composure.
She ran to him, not as a warrior… but as something broken.
A mother watching her child disintegrate… unable to stop it.
"Noxvir!!
Noxvir!!"
She dropped to her knees beside him, cradling his head in trembling hands, wiping the blood from his face as if that alone could keep his body from falling apart.
He convulsed.
Every muscle twisted.
Every breath shattered.
The mana around him screamed.
His aura pulsed violently.
Reality itself resisted what was happening to him.
And then…
He laughed.
Yes.
Amidst the bleeding… the agony…
He laughed.
A laugh with no joy.
No light.
Only something fractured.
Something dangerous.
He lifted his head slightly, lips trembling, breath faltering, and whispered:
"I fused them…
I did it."
And then he laughed again.
It wasn't a celebration.
It wasn't relief.
It was the laugh of a man who had stepped too far—
And didn't care what burned behind him.
And he kept laughing…
On the way back, the king leaned against her shoulder.
His body was still struggling with the aftermath…
Yet his smile remained.
She supported his weight in silence—
As if speaking might shatter her along with him.
The Azure Sovereign whispered inside his mind:
"Man… stop smiling already."
The king murmured to himself, as if answering a thought, not a person:
"Excessive smiles… were never joy.
They were a veil for shame too afraid to be seen.
And self-hatred… that smiled only to avoid breaking."
**
An hour later…
The king entered the dining room.
His legs barely held him.
His face pale—like someone bedridden by illness.
Kraye was waiting—
And though he couldn't see her clearly,
He could sense it:
Her expression was different.
There was no warmth.
Only steel.
A cold, unwavering focus in the air.
She gestured to the chair before her:
"Sit down… Noxvir."
He sat quietly and began to speak:
"I'm sorry if—"
She cut him off, her voice slicing through the room like a whip:
"Silence!"
He froze.
He had never seen her like this—no tenderness, no mercy.
It was as if someone else was wearing her face.
She shouted:
"If your body had been just a little weaker…
What would've happened when you used your eyes?!"
He hesitated.
Why did he feel trapped?
Why… couldn't he find the words?
He muttered, his voice barely above a breath:
"Dea—"
She cut him off again, screaming:
"Don't you dare say that word in front of me ever again!"
Her eyes shimmered with tears—
But her voice remained unshaken.
"Tell me the truth.
Did you know this would happen?"
His reply came soft, almost guilty:
"No.
I didn't know it would affect me like that."
She closed her eyes, took a slow breath, and spoke in a strange tone—half plea, half command:
"Swear… that you'll never do it again."
Silence.
His thoughts drifted down a path he didn't expect.
Maybe he should lie.
Tell her what she wanted to hear.
But she would find out eventually.
The Sovereign's voice slithered back:
"Isn't honesty… the safer road?"
The king sighed.
"I'm sorry…
I can't swear that.
But I promise…
I won't use it again unless my body can truly withstand it."
She lowered her gaze and whispered to herself:
"I knew he'd refuse…
But at least…
He understands what he's doing."
Then she smiled—broken, but sincere:
"Just be careful…
You're all I have."
He looked at her, his voice clear:
"I promise.
I'll be okay."
She nodded slowly, voice softening:
"I won't ask about your eyes again…
But you must hide them well."
Then her cheeks turned faintly red.
She began fiddling with her fingers, like a shy girl working up her courage.
"But… you can share your thoughts with me.
It would make me feel… special to you."
She looked almost like a child—playful and hopeful, seeking affection.
He answered without hesitation:
"But you're already special."
A bright smile spread across her face as she began to eat.
And he…
He wondered silently:
"Why did I say that?
Did I just want to see her smile?
No… impossible."
The Sovereign chuckled:
"Maybe… mutual respect?
Even a king pays his debts."
He smiled faintly and lifted his spoon.
"This food… really is delicious."