"Thud!"
A burly man over two meters tall crashed to his knees, chains draped over his body, his mouth gagged with hemp rope. No matter how fiercely his massive frame struggled, only muffled whimpers escaped—like the wind whistling through the depths of night.
The figure before whom he knelt was merely a teenager, sitting impassively in a chair. His skin was pale, his forehead smooth, his eyes melancholy. a face that promised, in maturity, the potential to be a heartbreaker who would haunt the deepest chambers of women's hearts. Yet, his frame was too slender, far from the image of strength revered by the women of the Abyss. And yet, here he was, kneeling before him.
The youth stared blankly at the burly man before him. The hatred in the other's eyes was as venomous as the most deadly seven-eyed snakes of the Abyss. Yet, facing such a gaze, not a trace of fear or panic could be found on the face of this teenager.
A middle-aged man seated beside the youth nodded with satisfaction. Clearly, the boy's composure had pleasantly surprised him.
The middle-aged man exuded an air of refined elegance and grace. His black fine wool coat hung smooth and immaculate, its lapels adorned with decorative magical patterns embroidered in gold thread. Pure gold cufflinks adorned his sleeves, and his wavy blond hair was neatly combed behind his ears. A scarlet gemstone ring adorned his left hand, and his feet were clad in gleaming high-grade magical beast leather boots.
Behind him, four attendants stood at attention, hands at their sides. Their chest insignia revealed that even the lowest-ranked among them was a Level 4 novice practitioner. Within the Abyss's seven-tiered profession system, a Level 4 practitioner was undoubtedly a formidable expert. Yet such individuals served merely as servants to this middle-aged man, a testament to his extraordinary status.
The middle-aged man rose with grace, pacing slowly to stand behind the kneeling burly man. He gazed at the youth seated in the chair and spoke in a calm tone, "Drink it."
The youth looked up at the middle-aged man, utterly unmoved. The man's eyes brimmed with expectation. Suddenly shedding all elegance, he violently yanked the burly man's hair, wrenching his head back so sharply that veins bulged visibly on his neck. "Drink it!" he roared.
The boy quickly recovered from his initial shock, his gaze intensely stubborn. He pressed his lips together and shook his head resolutely. The middle-aged man erupted in fury. A whirlwind surged from beneath his feet, air currents swirling wildly as black mist billowed upward.
"Aaargh!" he roared, two sharp fangs protruding beneath his lips. His once sapphire eyes instantly turned blood-red as he glared furiously at the youth. "This is your last chance! Drink him!" The boy slowly opened his mouth, revealing a row of white teeth—even and neatly aligned, with no trace of fangs designed for bloodsucking.
The middle-aged man slumped in disappointment, his shoulders dropping as the violent currents dissipated, restoring him to normal.
The old servant behind the boy approached tremulously: "Master, the young master seems... seems..." "Seems what!" The man addressed as 'Master' roared, making the servant shudder. "Seems he doesn't like drinking blood. "
The master cast a deeply disappointed glance at the youth. "With his constitution—broken meridians, fragile mental resilience—he cannot cultivate martial arts nor master magic. Had he awakened the bloodsucking clan's ability to draw power from powerful foes' blood, he might still become formidable. But at fourteen, this skill remains dormant. It seems his potential is lost forever..."
The Bloodsuckers were one of the Four Noble Races of the Shenglong Dynasty, though they did not consume blood as sustenance. Instead, they could absorb their enemies' blood and convert it into their own power. Otherwise, they ate chicken, duck, fish, and meat like any other race.
The family head looked desolate, waving his hand helplessly as if suddenly aged, his once-sturdy frame now slumped.
"In the Abyss of Darkness, might reigns supreme. Even if I could tolerate such a worthless creature, his maternal grandfather would never allow him to remain alive and bring shame upon the Messiah family... Alas!"
The patriarch sighed heavily, seemingly settling on a decision.
His left hand, tucked within his sleeve, opened its fingers. A blood-red iron token slid out, bearing a particularly gruesome blood-red skull.
The old servant threw himself forward without regard for his own safety, clutching the family head's leg and gripping his left hand tightly to prevent the token from slipping away. "Master! Master! He is your own flesh and blood! Even if neither you nor the late Patriarch Barton favored this child, he remains your blood relative! Master, I beg you..."
"Hmph!" The master flicked his wrist, sending the aged servant flying seven or eight meters. The old man crashed to the ground, ignoring his own injuries as he knelt and banged his head against the floor incessantly. "Master, have mercy! Master, have mercy!"
The head of the family didn't even glance at the old servant. He turned his face, his expression incredibly complex as he stared at the boy on the chair, sharp flashes of light darting through his eyes. His finger hooked, ready to flick out the iron token that held the power of life and death.
"Brother!" A sudden voice interrupted him. From outside the door, a pale-faced young man, bearing some resemblance to the head of the family, strode in quickly: "Brother, are you truly so heartless?"
"If I do not kill him, Barton Messiah will not spare him either."
"Brother, is the family's honor truly so important to you that it outweighs the value of a blood relative?" Bitterness clouded the young man's eyes. "If I were a useless废物, would you also flick the blood-killing token and order my elimination?"
The family head was speechless.
"Brother, even if he can't awaken our clan's innate skill, he could still inject magical energy medium! He could still grow powerful!"
The physical constitution of the Abyss Beasts was unique. Beyond their own cultivation, they possessed an extraordinary method to enhance their strength: hunting powerful demonic beasts and extracting their blood, spinal fluid, or any bodily fluid to inject into their own bodies. Once assimilated, these fluids granted a temporary enhancement, boosting their combat prowess. Different beasts yield varying degrees of enhancement for different individuals, though each Abyss dweller could only undergo this magical energy infusion enhancement three times in their lifetime.
The family head casually tossed an object—a smooth, triangular prism with a sparkling magic crystal at its base. An invisible force carried it to the boy, where it hissed as three sets of numbers appeared on its faces.
"Look here. Fourteen years old, bone quality 20, muscle quality 26, fighting spirit 0. How many enhancements would he need to advance to a Level 1 Bronze Warrior or Copper Badge Knight? Magic Sensitivity 11, Magic Control Index 7. How many more enhancements before he becomes a magic apprentice? Do you think three attempts are enough?"
The young man was speechless, yet still harbored lingering resentment.
"Brother, I know you own a fief in the northern part of Martinique Province. Send him there. He must never return to Longnu City without summons. Anyone disobeying this order will be executed on sight. Is that acceptable? That land is barren and infertile. Let him fend for himself. You and the Patton family won't have to see him..."
The family head pondered long and hard, finally letting out a deep sigh. With a flick of his finger, the blood-red iron token turned black. "Clink!" The token sprang out, performing a series of dazzling flips in midair before landing with a clatter on the ground.
"Gaia*Gonggro, I, the head of the bloodline Gonggro family, hereby appoint you as the master of Greenland. Without the head's command, you may never leave your fiefdom for the rest of your life. Disobey, and you die!"
As the head finished speaking, a magical gale swept through. He, his four attendants, and the burly man on the ground vanished without a trace.
The boy seemed unaware he'd just narrowly escaped death's scythe. His large, clear eyes—one black, one white—fixed intently on the uncle before him. The loyal old servant threw himself to the ground, kowtowing repeatedly. "Thank you, Master Francis. Thank you, Master Francis..."
"Uncle Francis." The boy called out. Francis smoothed his golden hair and gave the youngster a wry, resigned smile. "Gaia, I promise I'll come see you when I can." He sighed deeply and tossed a money pouch to the loyal old servant. "Take him away. To Greenland."
"Yes, sir." The old servant accepted the pouch with profound gratitude.
"Uncle Francis." A clear voice halted Francis as he turned to leave. Fourteen-year-old Gaia flashed him a smile. "Uncle Francis, whether it's kindness or debt, Gaia will repay it all." Francis paused, then broke into an odd grin. "You little rascal. I know you've already awakened your clan's skill. Why didn't you show it to your father?" "
"Sucking blood?" Gaia curled his lip. "He's human after all. I don't fancy drinking human blood."
Francis gave a bitter smile. "Are you truly fearless of death? Just now, you were so close..." He saw only calmness in the boy's eyes, halting his words. He looked deeply into Gaia's eyes. "Little Gaia, take care!"
...
Damn it. That hulking brute might be covered in scales and belong to the Asura clan, but he's still human. How could I drink human blood? Gaia recalled the earlier scene, a sigh echoing in his heart. His mind possessed a maturity uncommon in youths his age. His previous life had been wretched beyond measure, tasting every bit of human cruelty and warmth. Yet, just when he thought his suffering had ended and sweetness had arrived, a sudden car accident claimed his life. As his soul drifted aimlessly, he somehow crossed dimensions into this entirely different world, inhabiting the body of an infant.
Though still small in this life, he could feel the indifference of his father—the family head—towards him. Fourteen years had passed, and he had seen this father only thirteen times. Starting at age two, each year this father would bring a powerful captive before him, testing whether he had awakened his clan's innate abilities.
In truth, Gaia's innate abilities had awakened long ago. Yet the education of his previous life in the civilized world made it utterly impossible for him to drink human blood—even though, as a hybrid of vampire and fallen angel, the blood of a powerful being would have strengthened him. And strength was paramount for Gaia, whose frail constitution barred him from mastering any magical or martial arts traditions.
I will become powerful, but I will never achieve it through such repulsive means.