Caden leaned back against his chair, the faint afterglow of the Status Panel still lingering in his mind's eye. The words Titanforce… Swallowing Soul echoed with a weight he couldn't yet measure.
"Master," he asked cautiously, "this bloodline… how exactly does it work? I don't get it. I'm not like those who awaken in the ceremony."
[Correction. You are far from common. You are essentially alien in a human form.]
The system's voice was calm but absolute.
[Bloodline awakening in the Empire occurs at the age of twenty, typically through a controlled ritual overseen by imperial representatives. Energy cocktails trigger lifeforce ignition, revealing potential. For most, results are limited—common bloodlines capped at ten percent. Your bloodline is different. Alien. Powerful enough to devour even the Empire's strongest legacies.]
Caden frowned. "So my so-called Titan bloodline doesn't follow their rules?"
[Correct. Your growth will be different. Faster. Provided you have the resources. It has… a large appetite.]
This was far outside his expectations. So, I'm an alien, Caden mused. For a moment, fear twisted in his chest—what if the Empire's vitalforce energy was useless to him? He needed to know what would actually work.
Later, when the ship's systems reconnected with imperial networks, his holo-pad chimed. The incoming call's crest flickered—a silver flame.
Grace.
He accepted, and the familiar face of the vice-head maid appeared. She bowed slightly, her expression stern but softened by concern.
"Master Caden," she said, "it is good to finally reach you. How is your health? The Empress asked for your condition."
Caden's lips curled in a faint smile. The Empress, huh? It wasn't warmth he heard, just duty—his mother's usual way. She had always favored Ariana, the prodigy. Caden, in comparison, had always lingered on the sidelines. It wasn't that she didn't love him, and it wasn't that his potential was weak—it was simply that Ariana's brilliance gathered unwanted attention.
Still, he answered politely. "I'm fine. Better than before, actually. Training's been rough, but I'm holding together."
Grace's eyes narrowed, as if she could see through the screen and measure his health herself. "Good. Do not neglect meals. Even though you've lost your cultivation, you should have gained a great deal more. And please cooperate with the doctor's assessments."
"Ahh… I knew it. That doctor," Caden muttered lazily. "Fine, I'll see him." He knew, even though he didn't want to, they likely had his full data already. Right, Masterrrrr?
[Correct. I made a few adjustments to the report. There will be no problems. And call me Master properly.]
Caden nodded with a faint smile.
----
That same day, he made his way to the ship's central lobby, where officers and crew mingled during off-duty hours. He carried a tray of steaming food—grilled protein slabs, nutrient-packed grains, and a glowing green drink the System had insisted on, along with a crisp salad of carrot, beetroot, cucumber, and yogurt.
The sight made him sigh. This reminds me of my mother…
[Consume everything. Ratios have been optimized.]
"Yeah, yeah…" he muttered, taking a bite. To his surprise, the food tasted good—better than military rations had any right to. His meals were prepared differently, after all. A personal chef. A privilege reserved for the Empire's prince.
Across the room, the logistics officer—a broad-shouldered man with cybernetic implants along his neck—waved him over. "Caden, right? Haven't seen you down here before."
Caden's first thought was that the greeting lacked respect, but he shrugged it off and sat across. "Just keeping a low profile." Not everyone needed to bow and scrape. In fact, he preferred the casual approach.
The officer chuckled. "Good idea. Out here, people size you up fast. Better they underestimate you."
Later, the ship's doctor stopped by, scanning him casually with a wrist device. "Healing faster than normal. Interesting. Keep reporting any changes. I'd like to track your condition."
Even the captain appeared—a stern woman with a scar running across her cheek. She studied him for a long moment before saying simply, "Don't cause trouble. Frontier life's hard enough."
Through these small exchanges, Caden felt something he hadn't in years—acknowledgment. Not the hollow smiles of Academy nobles, who whispered behind his back, but something more genuine.
After finishing his meal and wandering the ship's corridors, he entered his practice room. This time there was no sparring. It was time for cultivation.
He scanned his ID, stepped to the center, and sat down cross-legged. First, he tried to circulate vitalforce through his veins. To his relief—it worked. Energy flowed. His smile widened.
But the System quickly broke the moment.
[Calculation complete. Circulation efficiency: abysmal. At this rate, it will take one year to reach the first level.]
Caden's smile froze. One year? He clenched his fists, frustration biting at him.
Then, focusing inward, he concentrated hard, grasping something, anything. Unknowingly, his consciousness slipped into his soul sea.
A bleak, endless sky stretched around him. At its center stood a golden steel monolith, glowing faintly, etched with characters that pulsed with ethereal light. A cultivation technique. he thought
Eternal Energy Core.
Only the first step was visible, but that was enough. He followed the directions unknowingly. Like being possessed.
Energy surged toward him, not the Empire's vitalforce but something unknown. It gathered at his heart, then spread through his body in a deliberate cycle. The flow accelerated, growing stronger with each circuit.
A faint crack echoed through his soul sea—then an energy storm swirled around him. Through the storm, you can see his body glowing gold with an unknown inscription appearing across his body, likely the first technique etched into his body.
He had broken through to the first level.