Draven scrambled to his feet as he heard the voice in his head.
"I… survived" Draven murmured as he struggled back up.
The screen was still glowing in the air. Draven stood, looking up to see that it was already close to dawn.
With the immense pain in his body, he still pulled through the thought of just lying down on the cold floor.
He walked towards the screen. On reaching it, he studied it carefully. After some time, Draven muttered,
"What's this?" he said quietly to himself.
"Is this a system?" he thought. But soon, Draven dispelled the thought. The system myth would remain just that—a myth.
After all, there was no record of anyone in any of the 12 realms awakening a system.
Just as Draven was still pondering, a voice from inside his head spoke:
[Host: Draven Nightfall]
[Bloodline: Blood Cultivation]
[You have just awakened a forbidden bloodline. First mission in 24 hours.]
[Host, please survive.]
Each word hit him like a bomb.
If he wasn't hallucinating, then this might be true. He might have actually awakened a system.
Draven glanced back at the screen once more. This time, the initial lines had faded away. All that was left were:
[BP points: 0]
[Rings: 0/12]
[First mission: 23hrs 59 minutes 20 seconds]
[Ancient Techniques: 0]
[Qi Condensation Level: 0]
Draven stood still. After some time, he sighed and began heading back into his house. He had no zeal or enthusiasm to partake in any of this. He just wanted to leave this misery called life. But no matter how he tried, he seemed stuck.
Draven sat down, picking up the book he had just borrowed—but he dropped it back on the table in shock. His hands shook as he glanced at the book again. It clearly read Path to Immortality.
Draven looked around the corner but saw no trace of any other book. This whole situation still felt strange. The book had been untitled when he borrowed it from the library.
He finally calmed down, took the book, and opened it. He quickly skimmed through the parts on rituals and forbidden bloodlines. The first subheading was Blood Cultivation.
Draven eagerly began reading. Soon, he finished the book. His eyes lit up with a new vision. The words in the book were vague and unclear, mostly parables he couldn't understand. But one thing stood out: if he could reach immortality, he would be able to grant any being another chance at life.
Draven flipped back to the page he had seen earlier. Suddenly, a flood of memories struck his mind.
His mom had been lying on the bed that afternoon, the day she would succumb to her illness. He had already gathered almost all the herbs he was meant to, but he knew something was wrong. His mom was smiling too much. Unlike others, Draven could see through that smile—it was painful, one that tried to hide the truth.
After her medication, Draven sat by her bed as silence thickened in the room. After what seemed like ages, she finally spoke.
Miranda was a beautiful woman, not too old, but her sickness made her look even paler and older as the days passed.
"I wish I could stay by your side, son. You've lost everything already," Miranda said as a few drops of tears ran down her delicate face.
"Yes, you will, Mom. You will. As long as you keep taking your medication, you'll be healed in no time," Draven said before rushing into the forest to get more divine herbs.
But one thing he didn't know was that those would be the last words he ever heard from his mother.
Tears trickled down Draven's eyes as he recounted the memory. He remembered how he had wept throughout that day, as though he were a child. He had bonded with his mom so deeply he couldn't imagine a life without her.
Then, upon realization, Draven wiped his eyes and read the statement again:
"On reaching the vast heights of Immortality, the reader can grant whomever he chooses another chance to live as the Thirteenth God of Immortality. But note: no being across the twelve realms has been able to reach such a feat."
He could actually do it. He could actually grant his mom's last wish.
Draven stood up, excitement washing over him. All those things that hadn't mattered a moment ago suddenly mattered now. A stray thought hit him, and he instinctively called out to the system:
[BP points: 0]
[Rings: 0/12]
[First mission: 21hrs 39mins 58secs]
[Ancient Techniques: 0]
[Qi Condensation Level: 0]
Immediately, panic washed over him. He had less than a day for his mission. He hadn't even broken into the first stage of Qi Condensation. But at least he knew what to do now.
From the book, all he needed was to take blood into his dantian and cultivate it. Simply put, the higher the cultivation level and bloodline of the being he killed, the more valuable the blood he would gain.
With this thought, Draven hurried to a local abattoir. He had always passed the place for months—it was just a few meters away from the library he often visited.
After a short walk, Draven arrived. The store was small, with few animals, and carried the drenching smell of animal waste and urine. He quickly called the owner. Luckily, there were no customers at the time.
"Hello, I'd like to buy some good meat," Draven said as the man approached, holding a bloody sickle in his hands.
"Come in, my friend. What kind of meat do you want? Do you need it alive or dead?" the abattoir owner asked, dressed in all black and gesturing for him to step in.
"Well… I need a living animal. At least one at level one Qi Condensation," Draven said slowly and quietly, making sure he didn't miss any detail.
The man listened attentively. When Draven was done, he nodded.
"We have just what you seek," he said, leading Draven deeper inside while leaving his salesmen to handle the other customers.
After a few steps, they stopped at a black door. Just as he began unlocking it, the man suddenly paused, as if remembering something. He turned and looked at Draven.
"I am meant to give you this warning before we move in."