This was it.
The plaza was silent. Hundreds of eyes were fixed on him.
Roland stood before the Mana Crystal. It was a flawless, towering shard of pale blue, pulsing with a faint, inner light.
Before him, his family watched from the castle balcony.
His father, Earl Valerius, face like carved stone. His mother, her expression unreadable. His younger brother, Cassian, wearing a smirk he didn't bother to hide.
This was the Awakening. The day his future was decided.
'Dammit, why am I so nervous?'
Roland took a breath.
He tried to steady his hand.
'It's just a test. A test I've been waiting for my whole life.'
But it wasn't his whole life.
That was the problem.
He'd only been in this body for three days.
Three days since he'd woken up here, a transmigrator from Earth, thrust into a world of magic, of towering castles, of strange, beautiful beastmen, sharp-eared elves, and rumors of dragons in the mountains.
He was Roland, the eldest son of the Earl.
Today, he would awaken his mana and secure his-birthright.
He had to.
Roland stepped forward. He placed his hand on the crystal's cool, smooth surface.
A pulse.
Then, light.
It wasn't a glimmer. It was an eruption.
A blinding, brilliant white-gold light that exploded from the crystal, swallowing the plaza.
The crowd cried out, shielding their eyes.
The light was so intense it felt hot, a physical force pressing against him.
It was more power than anyone had ever seen.
'Holy shit. Is this... me?'
A smile touched Roland's lips. An S-rank Talent? SSS-rank?
He was a protagonist. He had to be.
The light held for a ten count.
Then, just as suddenly as it came, it vanished.
It didn't fade. It was snuffed out.
The plaza was plunged back into the harsh afternoon sun.
The crowd blinked, spots dancing in their vision.
Roland stared at the crystal.
On its surface, where a glowing rune or a number should have appeared, there was nothing.
A priest stepped forward, his face pale.
He checked the crystal's base, running his hands over the surface.
And he turned to the Earl on the balcony and bowed low.
"My Lord. The reading... it is Zero."
Silence.
The word echoed in the sudden, dead quiet of the plaza.
Zero.
Roland felt the blood drain from his face. The air, moments ago hot with power, was now ice.
"Zero...?" he whispered.
He looked at the crystal. It was inert. Just a big, dumb rock.
He looked at the crowd.
The awe on their faces had vanished. It was replaced by shock. Then confusion. Then, worst of all, pity. And scorn.
He looked at his family.
His mother had her hand to her mouth. His father's stony expression had darkened into a thundercloud.
And his younger brother, Cassian... he was laughing.
Not out loud. A silent, shaking laugh that twisted his handsome features into something ugly.
A chill, colder than any winter, seized Roland's heart.
'No. This... this can't be happening.'
He knew the rules of this world. He'd had three frantic days to learn them.
The heir to a noble house must possess mana.
Without magic, he was nothing.
Without magic, he would be cast out. Exiled.
If he stayed, he would disgrace the family.
'I just got here. I'm the eldest son. And I'm going to be exiled for having no magic?'
He was a transmigrator. He was supposed to have a cheat. A system. Something.
But there was nothing.
Just a "Zero."
What a tragedy.
Cassian stepped up to the crystal. He was two years younger, but he already carried himself with an heir's arrogance. He placed his hand on the stone.
A bright, clean blue light flared, not as bright as Roland's blinding flash, but steady. Strong.
The priest announced the reading, his voice filled with relief.
"Mana capacity: B-Rank! A fine talent!"
The crowd, desperate for something to cheer for, burst into applause.
Cassian raised his chin, basking in it. He shot Roland a look of pure, venomous triumph.
"At least one of us isn't a cripple," Cassian sneered, just loud enough for Roland to hear. "A mana-less trash. What a disgrace to the family name."
Roland's hands clenched into fists. He said nothing.
Without mana, he was nobody.
"Roland. Come with me. Now."
The Earl's voice was not a request. It was a command, cold and sharp.
The castle's solar was oppressive.
Dark wood, dark tapestries, dark moods.
Roland's family was assembled.
His father, Duke Valerius, sat behind a massive oak desk.
His mother stood near the window, refusing to look at him.
His younger sister, Elara, barely thirteen, looked terrified.
And Cassian stood by the fireplace, that triumphant smirk still plastered on his face.
The silence stretched. Heavy. Suffocating.
Duke Valerius finally broke it. His voice was flat, devoid of all emotion.
"I will send you to the Northern Reaches."
Roland's head snapped up.
'The Northern Reaches?'
He knew of the place. Everyone did.
It was a wasteland. Decades ago, the Tulip Empire had fought a bloody war against the beastmen armies there. The land was soaked in blood, in hatred, in resentment.
The lingering malice of that war had manifested as a physical thing. A miasma. A permanent, swirling fog of necrotic energy that never dispersed.
It was a land of death.
A land of lingering ghosts and twisted monsters.
Even dogs wouldn't go there.
Being sent to the Northern Reaches wasn't exile. It was a death sentence.
"Father, you can't," Roland said, his voice quiet. He tried to keep the desperation out of it. "It's a graveyard. You're sending me there to die."
"You should be grateful you're getting a piece of land at all!" Cassian snapped before the Duke could reply. "A title, even a worthless one, is more than a cripple deserves."
Roland stared at his brother.
'That... that bastard.'
Realization dawned, cold and sharp.
'He did this. He must have incited father. Pushed him. Whispered in his ear.'
With Roland gone dead, the path to inheriting the title was perfectly, undeniably clear for Cassian.
"A mana-less trash like you should be scrubbing toilets for the rest of your life, not holding land," Cassian continued, his voice dripping with contempt.
He stepped closer, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial sneer. "Be thankful. At least you'll have a grave. A big one."
"Cassian. Enough," the Duke said, but there was no force in it.
It was permission.
Cassian's taunts became more outrageous. He felt untouchable.
"I wonder what will happen to your personal retainers," he mused, tapping a finger on his chin. "Especially that pretty little maidservant of yours. What was her name? Anna?"
Roland's blood went cold.
"She's a sweet thing," Cassian said, his eyes glinting. "It would be a shame to let her talent go to waste. After you're gone, I'm going to 'take good care' of her. Very... good... care."
Something inside Roland snapped.
It wasn't a thought. It was a physical sensation. A string pulling taut, and taut, and then breaking.
Rage.
Pure, seething, incandescent rage. It was so hot it burned the fear out of him. It burned away the shock.
'This... this fucker.'
He didn't care about the title. He didn't care about the exile.
But this.
This, he could not allow.
'I'm going to beat him. Right here. Right now. I don't care what happens.'
He took a step. His hand was balled into a fist.
He was going to smash that smug, rotten face into a pulp.
And at that exact moment.
A sound.
A cold, mechanical, unearthly sound.
It wasn't in the room.
It was inside his head.
[SYSTEM DETECTED... BINDING TO HOST...]
A holographic screen, visible only to him, materialized in the air.
'Holy shit. Finally!'
Roland froze.
His rage was momentarily eclipsed by a wave of desperate, manic relief.
His cheat.
It was finally here.
[God-Tier Bloodline Collector System... ACTIVATED.]
'Yes! Yes!'
[Host potential: Zero. Host status: Cripple. Host situation: Pathetic.]
Roland's relief faltered.
'Hey, fuck you!'
[System requires a host of strength, will, and action. Not a useless piece of trash.]
[A test is required to finalize the binding.]
[CONDITION: The System has detected an intolerable insult. It has also detected a target worthy of punishment.]
[Prove you are not a spineless cripple.]
Roland stared at the floating text.
He knew, instinctively, what it was going to say.
[TASK: Punch your brother, Cassian Valerius, in the face.]
[Time limit: 10 seconds.]
[Failure to comply: System will self-destruct, and Host will be permanently designated as 'Useless Waste'.]
A countdown timer appeared.
[10... 9...]
Roland looked at the prompt.
He looked at Cassian, who was still smiling, oblivious.
A slow, cold grin spread across Roland's face.
'With pleasure.'