After that day, Drawen shut himself away. The boy who once studied diligently beneath the tutors of the estate, who would argue with his sister over lessons or laugh at her mock scolding, no longer appeared in the libraries or training courts. His room became his world, its curtains drawn so tightly that even the sun seemed barred from reaching him.
Liora tried at first—bringing sweets, stories, or even dragging him by the arm into the gardens. She scolded him, teased him, even pleaded with him. But no matter what she did, Drawen's eyes never lit up again. The boy she knew—eager, sharp, stubbornly proud—had fractured under the weight of that single word spoken in the Sacred Hall: cannot awaken.
Their parents scarcely spared him a glance. The Duke and Duchess had poured all their attention into Liora, whose SS rank talent glimmered like a beacon for the family's future. To them, Drawen was a shadow best ignored. The halls that once whispered his name now carried only faint murmurs of pity, or worse—mockery.
Servants who had once scrambled to earn his favor now turned away when he passed, their smiles vanishing the moment his back was turned. His meals were left cold, his presence tolerated rather than welcomed. Drawen was no longer the young master of promise—he was the stain that marred the Veyrona name.
One day, when Liora pressed him too far, their quarrel exploded. His words cut harsher than he intended, bitterness spilling unchecked:
"It's your cursed mouth! You said I would not awaken—your words doomed me!"
The accusation silenced her. For the first time, Liora had nothing to say. That silence was worse than any retort. After that, she stopped trying. Bit by bit, their bond unraveled until their conversations dwindled to a few words every passing month.
Alone and untethered, Drawen's nature twisted. Anger flared easily, striking at those weaker than him. Maids began to flinch when he approached; whispers of harassment followed his name. Worse still, at only eight years old, he discovered the numbness of strong drink and the haze of smuggled powders. No one stopped him. No tutor, no elder, not even his parents. They turned their eyes away, for what future was there to protect? A non-awakener could never inherit the Duke's mantle. To them, Drawen was already as good as buried.
Whispers spread in the estate: sooner or later, those who rallied behind Liora would have to remove him, lest enemies of the house use him as a pawn against her rise. The child once spoken of as the bright heir of Veyrona had vanished.
In his place remained only an empty husk—Drawen von Veyrona, a boy who might have shone brilliantly, now sinking deeper into ruin.
And just like that, two years passed.
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In those two years, much had changed in the Veyrona household. Liora had grown taller, her presence more noticeable with each passing day. By the time she turned thirteen, she was ready to take the next step in her education—admission to the prestigious Aether Academy.
The Academy was well-known across the empire for its rigorous studies and its unique admission process. Nobles and commoners alike competed in a battle royale, testing their strength, skill, and cunning. Ranks were determined by performance, and the top ten received various benefits such as access to better instructors and rare resourcses. The very top, the ace of the year, gained the most significant advantages for their future.
That year also saw an extraordinary awakening. While Drawen's core had failed, the Saintess, a girl of royal blood, awakened hers. Some witnesses even claimed to see Lumerus himself blessing her as she rose. Her power and presence left a strong impression on those who saw it. And with each passing day, the rumors of the failed son of Veyrona and his misdeeds spread through the estate and beyond.
In the noble house of Blackmere, a story spread quickly—Aldred von Blackmere, the second son of the duke, had accomplished the unthinkable. At only nine years of age, he slew a F+ rank monster, a feat far beyond the reach of ordinary children.
Meanwhile, in the duchy of Rivershire, Celestria von Rivershire, daughter of the duchess, awakened the Illusion Attribute—a rare and exceptional gift, considered the advanced form of the water attribute. Her awakening stirred whispers among the nobility, for talents of such rarity often shaped the course of history.
Rumors of the Hero also began to ripple through the empire. It was said that after awakening by himself at the age of seven—an occurrence never recorded since the empire's founding—he inherited the Divine Sword Art of Aether von Lumera, the Human Sovereign. The very mention of it set the empire ablaze with anticipation and speculation.
Within the royal palace, Thorian von Lumera, son of the emperor, was undergoing training under his father's guidance. The emperor himself stood at the pinnacle of power, recognized as one of the twelve SSS-rank existences in the world. Few could imagine the heights Thorian might reach under such direct tutelage.
And yet, within the same royal palace, a quiet disturbance stirred. Something unusual had happened to the Saintess—something shrouded in secrecy, yet destined to leave an indelible mark on the fate of Drawen von Lumera, the stain of Veyrona.
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