Kaelvir found himself drifting in a dreamlike space. Colors of the rainbow spread endlessly around him, while countless stars clustered together, forming a sphere-like shape. It reminded him of the Milky Way image he once saw back on Earth.
"Where am I?" he thought, confused. One moment he was in his room, the next he was here. "What the hell is happening? Did I… die again?" Panic set in.
As his heartbeat raced, the space around him suddenly trembled, twisting and collapsing on itself. Fear surged through him—memories of the white void after his accident flooding back. The trembling grew more violent, but then, just as suddenly, it receded, leaving behind a silent whirlpool of distortion, pulling at the very fabric of the space around it.
Kaelvir's eyes widened. "Could this be… a black hole?"
Before he could move, a blinding divine light flared within the whirlpool, and from it emerged a massive golden door.
Runes of ancient design flickered faintly on its surface, exuding an aura of time immemorial. Intricate carvings covered it, strangely familiar to Kaelvir. His mind flashed back to the enormous black door that had once sucked him away.
"They look similar… but different at the same time," he muttered, floating closer but stopping himself from touching it.
Suddenly, the sound of footsteps echoed—not from the void, but from behind the door itself. Kaelvir froze, retreating instinctively. The echo grew louder, closer. A humanoid shadow appeared, pressing against the golden door from the other side.
Creak.
The door slowly opened, spilling a blinding mist-like light into the void. Kaelvir squinted, trying to glimpse the figure behind it—
And woke up.
He gasped for breath, his body drenched in sweat. His sheets clung to his skin as he sat up, eyes darting to the familiar ceiling of his room.
"What was that… and who was behind the door?" he whispered. His brows furrowed. "It's been a while since I've had a dream like that. Come to think of it… I haven't dreamed at all since transmigrating. Why now?"
As he pondered, footsteps approached his room. He recognized the rhythm instantly.
"Young master, what's the matter? I heard you talking. Couldn't sleep?"
Fay stepped in, her nightwear flowing softly as her loosened braids trailed behind her bun. In the dim light, her beauty seemed ethereal—different from the composed air she carried during the day.
Kaelvir's gaze lingered for a moment. Barefoot, with a faintly transparent nightgown, she carried a teasing allure that made his heart stumble. Her unique scent drifted in the air between them.
"Young master?" Her gentle voice broke his daze.
"I… I'm fine. Just a dream," Kaelvir stammered, quickly averting his gaze. "But… how did you hear me?"
Fay rubbed her sleepy eyes. "With our rooms so close, I can almost hear you breathe when you sleep. When you spoke, I thought you might need something."
"Do you… care to tell me about the dream?" she asked softly, noticing how soaked his clothes were.
Warmth stirred in his chest at her concern, but he shook his head. "Don't worry about it. Nothing worth speaking of. Go back and rest, dawn is close. You'll need your strength."
Fay hesitated, studying him with worried eyes, before bowing. "If young master needs anything, please call for me."
Kaelvir gave a faint nod. "Hmm."
She stepped out quietly, though her thoughts lingered: Why does he seem so troubled?
---
Morning came, and the Veydrak clan hall bustled with life.
On the massive red steel throne sat Patriarch Zar, his stern expression heavy as he addressed the seven elders before him.
"The Kaevor clan has sent word," Zar said grimly.
A green-robed elder slammed his hand on the table, fury in his eyes. "Patriarch, the Zaryth clan has gone too far! Even if they didn't harm the young master directly, their intentions were clear. They want him dead. Their two-faced ways disgust me!"
Murmurs of agreement rose, but a red-robed elder cleared his throat, silencing the room. Eldran Veydrak—muscular, bald, with a lightning rune under his right eye—spoke with authority.
"As much as I'd like to raze them to the ground, we must ask: why target the third young master when he has no cultivation? What do they stand to gain? Only by answering that can we prepare a deadly counter."
The elders fell silent, his words cutting through their anger.
Another voice rose—calm, measured. Morvain Veydrak, a man with bronze skin, a dark goatee, and dreadlocks tied neatly behind him, stood. His yellow robes shimmered under the hall's light.
"Many of you may have already heard the rumor. Dorian, the young master of the Zaryth clan, is said to be infatuated with Meyra—the young miss of the Kaevor clan."
Some elders nodded grimly. One cursed aloud, "What!? That simpleton dares to covet Kaelvir's fiancée?"
Morvain continued. "If Kaelvir were to die, Dorian would have a chance. That much is clear. This is the conclusion I've drawn."
A cold voice interrupted from across the hall.
"And what assurance do they have that the Kaevor clan would agree to such a thing? Are you implying our allies might betray us?"
It was Kaelvon. The elders didn't rebuke him—his cultivation nearly matched their own despite his youth. At just twenty-four, already at the peak of the Body Ascendance Realm, his genius demanded respect.
He bowed slightly. "Father, elders, forgive my lateness. I was only informed recently."
The elders waved it off, but Zar's voice was stern. "Even so, never interrupt an elder again."
Kaelvon accepted the rebuke humbly, but Morvain added with a soft smile, "The young master has potential, but must learn patience. Still, his words hold merit."
Kaelvon bowed again. "Thank you, elder."
Morvain then delivered his final analysis: "I don't believe the Kaevor clan would betray us outright. But… they may reconsider the engagement after Kaelvir's repeated failures. Their young miss, blind as she is, still possesses the ability to cultivate. To them, she may be more valuable than a husband who cannot."
The hall grew heavy with silence.
Finally, Zar spoke. "Kaelvir has asked me for one final chance to awaken. If he fails, I will cancel the engagement before the Kaevor clan does, to spare them embarrassment."
"Father—" Kaelvon began, but Zar's glare silenced him.
"That is my decision."
The meeting shifted to preparations for the Awakening Ceremony. Elders reported twelve youths ready—including Kaelvir. Zar dismissed them soon after, staying behind with Kaelvon.
"You know this will weigh heavily on Kaelvir," Kaelvon said, troubled.
"I know," Zar admitted, voice softer. "But pressure may ignite something in him. That's my hope."
---
Later that evening, Kaelvir walked alone through his courtyard, lost in thought.
"I can't keep hiding forever. Back on Earth, despair nearly crushed me before the accident. I swore never to live like that again. This is my second chance. I'll live freely, without fear of circumstance."
His fists clenched with resolve.
"I've never even stepped outside the clan since I transmigrated. I need to see it for myself, not just through memories." A smirk tugged at his lips. "No one would expect me to sneak out tonight. Not even my enemies."
Throwing on a black robe, Kaelvir slipped through a hidden passage in his courtyard.
But as he vanished into the night, a shadow emerged silently behind him, eyes following.
Someone was already on his trail.