The palace of Indravana sprawled endlessly, its vast corridors bathed in a subdued golden glow. Only a sparse handful of guards patrolled the long passageways, which were flanked by countless ornate doors whispering secrets of power and legacy.
Behind one such door, Vikram Vellory—son of the Hammer Saint—sat brooding on his bed, a tempest of fury churning behind his narrowed eyes.He replayed his humiliating defeat to Michael over and over, each memory a barbed thorn sinking deeper into his pride.
"How did I lose to that filthy outcast? How did I end up trailing behind him in the rankings? Damn it… damn it all to hell!"
Humiliation coiled into raw, seething rage, twisting his features into a mask of vengeance. And then—a heavy, authoritative knock thundered against the door, the sound laced with an urgency that made even Vikram flinch involuntarily.
Irritation flared as he wrenched the door open, only to find his mother, Leela Vellory, standing there.
A master of political intrigue sharper than any blade in the royal chamber, her stern gaze pierced him like a judgment from the gods themselves, silencing the retort on his lips.
"Mother… what happened?" he stammered, tension knotting his gut.Her expression remained unyielding, a fortress of resolve.
"Go to the royal balcony," she commanded flatly."Why, Mother?" Vikram pressed, unease blooming into outright dread.She offered no explanation, merely pivoting away with chilling finality, her parting words hanging like a shroud: "Prepare yourself."
In the opulent royal chamber, Michael stood defiant amid a sea of kneeling nobles, his gaze locked on the man he loathed above all—Rajendra Vellory, the Hammer Saint himself.
The entire assembly bowed low in reverence, but Michael held his ground, unbowed. Rajendra regarded him with a faint, knowing smirk, as if the outcome of this confrontation had long been scripted in his favor.From across the hall, a sycophantic noble watched with gleeful amusement, treating Michael like little more than a clown tumbling for his sport.
Before Michael could retort, War General Rudra Shakthiraya struck swiftly behind his knee, buckling him to the floor with brutal precision.
"Brat," Rudra growled through clenched teeth, "disrespect toward the Hammer Saint will not be tolerated."
The Grand Chancellor, Aravindan Velkar, interjected sharply, "Agreed—but War General, restrain yourself. You stand before our liege."
Rudra's jaw clenched, pride warring with duty, but he relented under the Chancellor's authority. He retreated to his seat—positioned humbly below the Hammer Saint's towering throne—simmering in silent fury.
State Representative Devashish Aarin seized the moment, his voice dripping venom. "Well, outcast, you claim to be the Hammer Saint's elder son, do you not? How do you expl—"
Aravindan silenced him instantly. "Representative, your tongue has no place here. Raise questions in the Dominion Gathering or State Council—not in the royal chamber."
Laughter erupted like shattering glass—sharp, mocking, merciless—rippling from the other stronghold heads. Devashish sank into his seat, face aflame with public humiliation.
The Chancellor pivoted smoothly to Michael, his tone measured. "State your point, kid."
Michael met his eyes, bewilderment churning beneath his resolve. A chamber packed with high-born scum inviting an outcast like me to speak? This reeks of a trap. They either know my blood… or they've plotted my execution.No escape presented itself. He summoned his status window.
THE STATUS
Core Combat Stats
Strength: 37
Agility: 34
Endurance: 34
Vitality: 31
Offensive Power
Base Attack: 74
Ability Amplification: 71%
Elemental Affinity (Black Essence): 15.5%
Critical Force: 35.5
Effective Damage: 104.5
Defensive Power
Damage Resistance: 23.8%
Corruption Resistance: 10.2%
Mental Fortitude: 10.2%
Regeneration Rate: 6.2%
HP: 310
Essence & Growth
Black Essence: 4000 / 4000
Absorption Rate: 16 BEU/sec
Lotus Synchronization: 4.17%
Petal Stage: 1 / 24
Chaos detonated across the chamber—gasps of shock, waves of disbelief, tides of outrage crashing against the walls.To the nobles, his display was an affront, a slum rat's audacity. To the four stronghold heads, it was mere theater, ripe for ridicule.Rajendra Vellory sat unmoved, his gaze steady, almost… approving.
Michael ignored the uproar. He scanned the numbers, confirmed his growth—and erupted into unrestrained laughter, the sound slicing through the tension like a blade.That peal shattered all pretense.
Jai Singh Senapathi signaled subtly; two royal guards lunged, spears poised for the kill.Death hurtled toward him.
A new window flickered into existence:
"Unlock 2nd Petal Stage? Cost: 4000 BEUs YES / NO"
No hesitation. YES.Power detonated through his veins like liquid lightning. Michael swung once—a single, devastating punch that hurled both B-rank soldiers across the chamber like shattered puppets, crashing into the far walls.Stunned silence rippled outward.
The Chancellor masked his astonishment. Rudra's lips curled in a predatory grin. Jai Singh paled, frozen in terror.Rajendra observed with the serene certainty of a chess master mid-game.
Another prompt materialized:
Devourer's Gaze
Gain 25% of opponent's strength at 10% HP for 10 seconds.
The cost was savage. Michael drew his short blade without pause, plunging it into his own flesh. Blood cascaded in a hot rush; HP plummeted.Time ignited. Power swelled, intoxicating and feral.Come on. Anyone dare?Panic gripped the chamber—nobles scattering, guards hesitating—save for the Hammer Saint, who watched with detached amusement, as if appraising a performer's finale.
Michael's voice thundered over the din: "This world doesn't wait for the powerless… it simply moves on. And so will I."
The words reverberated, stirring something profound—power, buried memories, raw emotion. Both Adithya Vellory (Michael's hidden truth) and Rajendra stiffened imperceptibly.
The chamber hummed like distant thunder.
"Silence."Rajendra's single command fell like an anvil, freezing every soul.
Even Michael shivered under its weight.
After a pregnant pause, the Hammer Saint continued: "Proceed with the arrangements. Treat his wounds. Make him ready."
The assembly bowed as one. "Yes, Liege!"
Michael stood amid the obeisance, mind racing: Ready for what?
AT THE ROYAL BALCONY
The expansive balcony brimmed with the dominion's key heirs, bodyguards shadowing their charges. Confusion etched every face:
Vikram Vellory beside his mother Leela;
Neha Khuraar; Varsha Aarin; Nagul Senapathi; Ranveer Rathore.
Why are we summoned? What's brewing?Royal chamber members filtered in.
Adithya Vellory (Michael) emerged at the forefront.A tremor rattled the entrance.
A herald's voice boomed: "Behold—the Ruler of Indravana! The Hammer Saint—Rajendra Vellory!"
Silence blanketed the stronghold.
Rajendra ascended the podium, his voice resonating like divine decree: "Today… before our people… I announce the return of my elder son—Adithya Vellory."
Michael stepped forward into the light.
Reactions detonated: Vikram petrified; Neha's eyes bulged; Ranveer and Nagul looked gutted, souls fled; even the poised Varsha Aarin cracked, composure fracturing.
Shock. Fury. Bewilderment. Dread.In that electrified instant, a new era dawned—etched before the very elite who once deemed the weak beneath their boots.