The moment Valdis's bloodline awakening finished, the pool became still.
The three-colored liquid—crimson dominant, black subdued, silver barely visible—lost its violent churn and fell silent, as if suppressed by an unseen force.
That same unseen force gently pulled Valdis toward the surface. As he ascended, the feeling of doom grew stronger.
But while this was happening, Valdis kept an unusually calm expression on his face, not because he wasn't afraid of the unknown, but because he understood that no matter what he did, he couldn't escape this situation. His only hope was his father and the elders above.
He had hardened his heart to face the problems as they came.
He floated until he broke the surface.
As his body surfaced, he was greeted by the familiar lighting of the room. His eyes quickly searched for his father and the elders, only to find them frozen in place.
He saw the helpless look in his father's eyes, the shock on his brother's face, and the worry on his sister's, along with the expressions of the grand elders and the elders as they watched him exit the pool and continue ascending.
The awakening hall was a tall building with a large skylight roof, through which he clearly saw chaos unfolding above— a massive dark cloud with violent arcs of lightning dancing around it.
After reaching a certain height, his ascent stopped. The air grew tense, and the feeling of doom intensified.
Valdis felt like a prisoner being escorted to the gallows, with the heavens acting as judge, jury, and executioner.
Looking at the dark clouds above, he sensed as if something was staring back at him, scrutinizing every inch of his body, trying to uncover its secrets. The sensation was unsettling.
Even the blood inside him seemed to notice the scrutiny, and unlike him, who could do nothing about it, his blood reacted, unleashing its ferocity toward the heavens.
A blazing dark-red aura enveloped his body, liberating him from his shackles.
Valdis felt a surge of power he had never experienced before coursing through his veins, his skin hardened into scales, his pupils narrowed into slits, and his muscles expanded to contain the explosive energy beneath.
Suddenly, a thin flash of light shot from his body toward the clouds and vanished.
It was as if his blood had taken a stand in defiance.
The heavens, seeing this, immediately became enraged. The clouds churned violently, the white lightning bolts turning blue, and the danger they emitted increased exponentially.
And now, it grew even fiercer.
Heavier.
Angrier.
The air inside the awakening hall thickened, crushing everyone present.
Elders staggered under the pressure—some on one knee, others frozen in place, blood flowing from their noses.
Even the Grand Elders seated on their thrones stirred uneasily, their forms trembling beneath the descending force.
The clouds roared, thunder rolling like the voice of an enraged god.
The pressure intensified, trapping everyone in the hall—no one could move or breathe freely. It was as if the world itself was on trial.
The will of the heavens descended.
Cold. Impartial. Absolute.
There was no hatred—no emotion—only law.
To the heavens, Valdis was neither a child nor an heir nor a vampire. He was an anomaly—something that shouldn't exist—a flaw in the natural order that demanded correction.
Lightning gathered at the storm's center, condensing into a single, annihilating strike.
Valdis hovered beneath the storm, head tilted slightly upward, with red eyes reflecting the churning clouds above.
His expression remained eerily calm. There was no fear in his gaze, but his body emanated a suffocating hostility.
His refined blood stirred.
Faintly golden, it flowed silently through his veins, igniting his bones, reinforcing his flesh, anchoring his soul. Beneath his skin, dark scales pressed closer to the surface, responding to the overwhelming pressure not with submission—but with defiance.
And before Valdis could react, a bolt of lightning descended.
The world held its breath.
In that suspended moment—before judgment was executed—Valdis's presence shifted.
Blue flames erupted from his body, creating a breathtaking spectacle. Beneath the crimson glow, tiny dark scales had appeared across his arms, shoulders, and chest, gleaming with crimson light, each one carrying a tremendous force.
A pillar of blue lightning tore through the ceiling of clouds, slicing through the air with a scream that shattered windows all across the hall, sending shards raining down like glass snow. Elders dropped to one knee as the pressure multiplied.
The lightning struck Valdis directly in the chest.
His body arched violently, a silent scream tearing through his throat as every nerve ignited simultaneously. Pain beyond measure surged through him—bone-shattering, soul-rending. His scales flared, glowing darkly as they absorbed and deflected what they could, yet Heaven's lightning remained merciless.
This was not a test.
It was meant to eradicate.
Valdis felt his bones crack and then reforge under the lightning's wrath. His blood boiled violently, surging through his veins like molten metal forced through narrow channels. His heart pounded, not out of fear—but in fury.
The second bolt struck faster.
Stronger.
It wrapped around him like chains of divine punishment, tearing into flesh, smashing scales that cracked and regrew in the same moment.
At that moment, Valdis felt a surge of pure, blinding rage. His crimson eyes grew brighter. His blood boiled with anger.
Power flooded every cell of his being, and suddenly, a dark-red aura erupted, making the surrounding air oppressive.
His bloodline screamed in defiance.
The clouds above convulsed.
The heavens would not tolerate defiance.
The third lightning bolt formed—not blue, but black at its core, wrapped in crimson arcs. The pressure was so immense that the awakening hall's runes ignited one after another, screaming as they struggled to hold.
Valdis lifted his head, staring at the dark clouds filling his vision, bracing for the next strike.
His red eyes burned brighter than the lightning.
The bolt descended.
Valdis watched as the bolt drew near. Instinctively, his body reacted, punching outward.
The air around his fist exploded as if shot from a cannon. The dark-red aura gathered around his fist like a shield.
Soon, his fist collided with the lightning bolt.
Everyone expected him to be blown back or vaporized.
But the impossible happened.
As his fist and the lightning clashed, the dark-red aura shot outward, blasting through the lightning like an unstoppable force. It parted the lightning as it traveled upward.
It reached the storm clouds and punched a massive hole through them.
Everyone in the awakening hall was stunned. They had just witnessed an unbelievable scene.
In Eldoria, a heavenly tribulation appeared as a test for breaking through a specific stage. For instance, when someone advances from energy condensation to the core formation realm, the heavens test them—if they pass, they improve greatly in power and longevity; if they fail, they die.
The same applies when someone attempts to enter the saint realm.
During this test, survival is all that matters. Fighting back is futile; it's already exceedingly difficult to simply endure.
But there they were—witnessing an eight-year-old boy face a heavenly tribulation. Which was absurd enough—he didn't just survive the onslaught, he fought back, and not only that, he won.
And now, they saw a tribulation cloud with a gaping hole in it—something that should have been impossible.
That cloud stared at Valdis, suspended in the air like a war god.
Soon, the clouds began to disperse, and the force that held them in place vanished.
At that moment, the force suspending Valdis in the air disappeared as well, and he began falling toward the ground.
Before he could hit the ground, his father, Draven, appeared and caught him midair. His first act was to check his son's condition. Seeing only superficial wounds—nothing serious—he sighed in relief.
Then his gaze shifted to his son. Malrik met his father's look and instantly understood what his father was trying to convey.
He nodded in acknowledgment, and his figure blurred out of sight.
Isolde noticed the interaction between father and son and asked, "Where did he go?"
Duke Draven didn't respond immediately. He kept scanning a certain direction. After a moment, he looked at his daughter and said, "Your big brother just went to take care of some pests hanging around the estate."
Soon after, Malrik reappeared, not empty-handed. He returned with ten heads—five in each hand.
He casually tossed them onto the floor as if they were trash. Then he looked at his father and said, "Done."
"Did you find out where they came from?" Duke Draven asked, his tone shifting from gentle to authoritative.
Malrik knew his father wasn't in the mood for his usual antics. He restrained himself and replied, "Three were from the royal family, six from the dukes—expected—but the last one was interesting."
Duke Draven sighed. He had anticipated the royal and ducal responses, but Malrik's last comment caught his attention.
"What's so special about the last one?" he asked.
Malrik smiled and said, "They come from a coalition of houses led by House Ironveil."
"The marquisal House?" Draven inquired.
Malrik nodded.
Duke Draven took a deep breath, looked up at the sky, and said, "It seems some folks have forgotten the terror the Ebonhart name instills. It seems we need to remind them, and there's no better time than now."
He then turned to Malrik, who was standing ready for orders.
"I want every house involved completely eradicated by tomorrow—silently, to prevent interference," he commanded.
A wicked grin spread across Malrik's face. The lazy aura that usually surrounded him vanished, replaced by a formidable presence of bloodlust and slaughter.
He bowed before his father, then his body blurred out of sight again.
Duke Draven then looked at Isolde and said, "Tell Sebastian to meet me in the Valdis bed chambers." After saying that, his figure disappeared as if he had never been there.
Isolde nodded, looking toward the horizon. She sighed helplessly, knowing that the next day would be far from peaceful.