Anthonio woke to agony.
Every nerve in his body screamed. His Essence Veins, once hollow and empty, now burned with primordial fire. The Primordial Red Lightning coursed through pathways that had never been meant to contain such power, reshaping them at a fundamental level.
He tried to move. Failed. His muscles refused to obey, locked in spasms as his body struggled to adapt to what he had done.
*This is the price,* he thought through the haze of pain. *This is what it costs to steal power meant for legends.*
Sunlight streamed through the window of his room in the Eternal Mist Pavilion. Morning. He had been unconscious for an entire night. Selene must have carried him back after he collapsed in the crystal cave.
The door opened quietly. Selene entered, carrying a basin of water and clean bandages. Her gray eyes widened when she saw him awake.
"Young master! Don't try to move—"
"How long?" Anthonio's voice was barely a whisper, his throat raw.
"Eighteen hours. I brought you back after you lost consciousness in the cave." She set down the basin and knelt beside his bed, her expression unreadable. "What you did... absorbing that artifact directly into your body... it should have killed you."
"But it didn't."
"No." Selene's gaze was piercing. "Somehow, impossibly, your Broken Veins accepted the power. Young master, I've been a cultivator for two decades. I've seen geniuses, prodigies, monsters. But I've never seen anything like what you did yesterday."
Anthonio managed a weak smile. "That's because no one else has been stupid enough to try it."
"Or desperate enough."
The words hung between them. Anthonio closed his eyes, focusing inward. The pain was still there, but beneath it, he could feel the power. Coiled in his veins like a sleeping dragon. Vast. Terrible. *His.*
He had written the Primordial Red Lightning to be an EX-Rank ability—a power that transcended the normal ranking system. In his novel, he had created a complex hierarchy of abilities:
**F-Rank to S-Rank:** Normal abilities that most cultivators possessed. Elemental manipulation, enhanced strength, basic techniques.
**SS-Rank:** Rare abilities possessed by only the most talented individuals. Damien Crimsonhart's Crimson Blade Art was SS-Rank.
**SSS-Rank (Divine Essences):** Legendary abilities granted by the gods themselves. Only three people in the current generation possessed them—Kael Stormborn with his three Divine Essences, and two others who would appear later in the story.
**EX-Rank (Primordial Powers):** Powers that existed before the gods. Ancient, incomprehensible forces that defied categorization. The Primordial Red Lightning was one of only five such powers in the entire world.
And now it was his.
"Help me sit up," Anthonio said.
Selene hesitated, then carefully supported him as he struggled into a sitting position. Every movement sent fresh waves of pain through his body, but Anthonio gritted his teeth and endured. Pain was temporary. Power was forever.
"Young master, you need to rest. Your body—"
"My body is adapting." Anthonio raised his right hand. It trembled violently, but he forced it steady through sheer willpower. "Watch."
He focused on the power flowing through his veins. In the cave, it had been wild, uncontrollable, threatening to tear him apart. But now, after eighteen hours of his body unconsciously adapting to the foreign essence, he could feel the beginnings of control.
A spark of crimson lightning flickered across his fingertips.
It lasted only a second before dissipating, but Selene's eyes widened in shock.
"You... you can already control it?"
"Barely." Anthonio lowered his hand, exhausted from that simple demonstration. "But it's a start. In my current state, I'd estimate I can use perhaps one percent of the power without killing myself."
"One percent," Selene repeated softly. "And yet that single spark contained more concentrated essence than most Consolidation-level techniques."
Anthonio smiled grimly. That was the nature of EX-Rank power. Even a fraction of it surpassed normal abilities by orders of magnitude. Once he could fully control it, once he could channel even ten or twenty percent...
He would be unstoppable.
"Selene," Anthonio said, his voice taking on a more serious tone. "What I'm about to tell you cannot leave this room. Not now, not ever. Do you understand?"
She nodded without hesitation. "I swore loyalty to you, young master. Your secrets are mine to guard."
"Good." Anthonio met her eyes directly. "I know things. Things I shouldn't know. I know about the artifacts hidden throughout the kingdom. I know about techniques that haven't been discovered yet. I know about people's secrets, their weaknesses, their destinies."
Selene's expression didn't change, but Anthonio could see the questions forming behind her eyes.
"I'm not going to explain how I know these things," he continued. "Just accept that I do. And understand that this knowledge is the only reason I was willing to risk death by absorbing the Heart of the Crimson Storm. Because I knew—*knew*—that my Broken Veins would accept it."
"Young master..." Selene's voice was barely a whisper. "Are you perhaps... a Seer? One blessed with the Eye of Fate?"
Anthonio almost laughed. A Seer. That was one of the rare classes in his novel—individuals who could glimpse fragments of possible futures. It was as good an explanation as any, and far more believable than the truth.
"Something like that," he said, neither confirming nor denying. "The point is, I have a plan. A comprehensive, long-term plan to not only survive in this world, but to dominate it. And I need you with me, Selene. Not just as a servant, but as a true companion."
"You have me, young master. Always."
"Even if my path leads to conflict with the kingdom? With the gods themselves?"
Selene's gray eyes hardened with resolve. "Especially then."
Anthonio studied her for a long moment. In his novel, he had written Selene as unquestioningly loyal, but he had never explored the depths of that loyalty. Now, seeing the fierce determination in her eyes, he wondered what debt she truly owed to his grandfather. What had the old Duke done to earn such absolute devotion from a Transcendence-level cultivator?
Questions for another time.
"Then help me stand," Anthonio said. "I need to test my limits. Understand what this body can and cannot do."
"Young master, you're in no condition—"
"I'm in exactly the condition I need to be in." Anthonio's voice was firm. "Pain is information, Selene. It tells me where my boundaries are. And I need to know those boundaries if I'm going to push past them."
With Selene's support, Anthonio managed to stand. His legs trembled, threatening to collapse beneath him, but he locked his knees and forced himself upright. Every muscle burned. His Essence Veins felt like channels of molten metal running through his body.
But he was standing. That was progress.
"Take me to the training courtyard," Anthonio said.
"Young master, that's madness—"
"Take me to the training courtyard."
Selene's jaw tightened, but she obeyed. She supported him as they made their way through the Pavilion's corridors, moving slowly to accommodate his weakened state. The old butler, Aldric, saw them passing and started to approach, concern on his weathered face, but Selene waved him away with a sharp gesture.
The training courtyard was a neglected space behind the main building. Overgrown with weeds, the stone tiles cracked and uneven, the practice dummies rotted from years of disuse. Perfect. No one would question why the exiled trash of the Crimsonhart family spent time here.
"Set me down by that pillar," Anthonio instructed.
Selene lowered him carefully until he was sitting with his back against the stone column. From this position, he had a clear view of the entire courtyard and the mountains beyond.
"Now," Anthonio said, "I need you to answer something honestly. When you look at me with your cultivation senses, what do you see?"
Selene closed her eyes, and Anthonio felt the subtle pressure of her spiritual awareness washing over him. It was a strange sensation—like being studied under a microscope, every cell of his being laid bare to scrutiny.
Her eyes opened, and the shock on her face was genuine.
"Your cultivation base..." she whispered. "It's stabilized. Completely stabilized. Young master, you're at Consolidation 5-Star. How is that possible? Yesterday you had no cultivation at all!"
"The Heart of the Crimson Storm wasn't just an artifact," Anthonio explained. "It was a crystallized fragment of the Scarlet Dragon's essence. Pure, primordial power with no impurities. When I absorbed it, my Broken Veins didn't just fill with power—they were fundamentally restructured by it."
He raised his hand again, focusing. This time, the crimson lightning that flickered across his fingers was slightly stronger, lasting almost three seconds before he had to release it.
"Normal cultivation requires years of careful progression," Anthonio continued, lowering his hand. "Building your foundation, purifying your essence, advancing step by step. But I skipped all of that. The primordial essence forced my Broken Veins to transform instantly, creating a cultivation base at Consolidation 5-Star in a single moment."
"That's..." Selene struggled for words. "That violates every principle of cultivation theory. The shock should have killed you. At minimum, it should have left you crippled."
"It would have, for anyone with normal Essence Veins." Anthonio smiled grimly. "But my Broken Veins had no existing structure to conflict with the primordial power. They were empty vessels, hollow channels with no resistance. The power flowed in and filled them completely, reshaping them from nothing into something capable of containing EX-Rank essence."
Understanding dawned in Selene's eyes. "Your weakness became your strength."
"Exactly." Anthonio leaned his head back against the pillar, suddenly exhausted from the conversation. "But I'm nowhere near ready to use this power properly. Right now, accessing even a fraction of it causes immense strain. I need time to adapt, to train my body to handle the burden."
"How much time?"
Anthonio had done the calculations in his mind during his moments of semiconsciousness. In his novel, he had written detailed cultivation progression systems. He knew exactly how long each stage should take, what resources were needed, what techniques worked best.
"Six months to reach Consolidation 9-Star," he said. "Another year to break through to Manifestation and stabilize there. If I push hard, I can reach Manifestation 7-Star by the time I turn eighteen and enter the Royal Academy."
Selene's eyes widened. "Young master, that's... that's impossible. Even the most talented geniuses take five years to progress from Consolidation to Manifestation."
"Most geniuses don't have EX-Rank power flowing through their veins." Anthonio met her gaze. "The Primordial Red Lightning provides a cultivation speed that defies normal logic. Every breakthrough that should take months will take weeks. Every technique that should require years to master will come naturally."
He paused, then added with absolute certainty: "In two years, when I enter the Royal Academy, I will be at Sovereign 7-Star. And no one—not my family, not Kael Stormborn, not anyone—will know the truth until I choose to reveal it."
Selene stared at him as if seeing a stranger. Perhaps she was. The Anthonio Crimsonhart she had known was arrogant and talentless. This Anthonio was something else entirely.
"You'll need resources," she said slowly. "Cultivation manuals, essence stones, medicinal pills. The family cut your allowance to almost nothing."
"I'm aware." Anthonio smiled that predatory smile. "Which is why tomorrow, once I've recovered enough to walk properly, we're going to explore the Pavilion more thoroughly."
"Young master?"
"Tell me, Selene. Have you ever noticed that the Pavilion's foundation is far larger than the visible structure? That there should be additional rooms, cellars, storage spaces that aren't accessible from the main building?"
Selene frowned, clearly thinking. "Now that you mention it... yes. The architectural proportions seem off. But I assumed it was just the age of the building, perhaps collapsed sections—"
"Not collapsed. Hidden." Anthonio's eyes gleamed. "This Pavilion was built two centuries ago by Duke Alaric Crimsonhart. He was paranoid about family politics, convinced his relatives were plotting to steal his wealth. So he created a secret vault beneath the Pavilion, accessible only through a hidden passage in the wine cellar."
"How could you possibly know—" Selene stopped herself, remembering his earlier words about knowing things he shouldn't know. "Your... visions. You've seen this?"
"Something like that." Anthonio wasn't about to explain that he had literally written the Pavilion's complete architectural plans, including the secret vault, as background worldbuilding that never actually appeared in his novel. "The point is, that vault contains a fortune. Enough gold and treasures to fund everything we'll need for the next two years."
Selene was silent for a long moment. When she finally spoke, her voice was measured. "Young master, if what you say is true, then you've been blessed by fate itself. The location to hide and train. The artifact to grant you power. The resources to fund your growth. It's as if the universe itself is conspiring to ensure your rise."
*Not the universe,* Anthonio thought. *Just an author who knew exactly what pieces to put in place for a character's journey. The tragic irony is that I created all of this for Damien, not for myself.*
But he said nothing of this aloud. Let Selene believe in fate. It was easier than the truth.
"There's one more thing," Anthonio said. "Your oath to my grandfather. The one that binds you to the Crimsonhart family. I need to understand the exact terms."
Selene's face tightened. "Young master, that oath is... complex. When I was younger, I betrayed the Shadow Syndicate. They hunted me across the kingdom. Your grandfather gave me sanctuary, protected me when no one else would. In return, I swore to serve his bloodline until the debt was repaid."
"And the oath limits your cultivation, doesn't it?"
Selene's eyes snapped to his face, shock written clearly there. "How did you—"
"Your cultivation has been stagnant at Transcendence 5-Star for years," Anthonio said. "That's not natural. Someone of your talent should have advanced further by now. The only explanation is that the oath itself is holding you back."
Selene was silent for a long moment. Then, slowly, she nodded. "The oath prevents me from advancing beyond my current level while serving the family. It was... insurance. To ensure my loyalty couldn't become a threat."
Anthonio felt a flash of anger at his grandfather's paranoia, but he pushed it aside. Anger was useless. What mattered was finding a solution.
"If I released you from service to the Crimsonhart family," Anthonio said carefully, "would that break the oath?"
"I... I don't know. The oath is bound to your grandfather's bloodline, not the family as an institution. But you are his direct descendant. Perhaps you have the authority to release me." She looked at him with sudden, desperate hope. "Young master, do you truly mean this?"
"I don't want a servant whose power is artificially limited," Anthonio said bluntly. "I want a companion who can grow as strong as possible. If your oath is preventing that growth, then we need to find a way around it."
He closed his eyes, thinking. In his novel, he had written about magical oaths and binding contracts. The rules were complex, but generally, the person who made the oath could be released by someone with sufficient authority in the binding structure.
"Let's try this," Anthonio said, opening his eyes. "Selene Shadowmere, I, Anthonio Crimsonhart, last living descendant of Duke Maximilian Crimsonhart in this household, hereby release you from your oath of service to House Crimsonhart. Your debt to my grandfather is considered paid in full."
He felt something shift in the air around them—a subtle change, like a string being cut.
Selene gasped, her hand going to her chest. "I can feel it. The binding... it's loosening. But not breaking entirely."
Anthonio frowned. Of course. His grandfather had crafted the oath carefully. It wouldn't simply dissolve because one descendant released her.
"Then we try something different," Anthonio said. "Selene Shadowmere, I offer you a new oath. Not as my servant, but as my companion. Swear to stand beside me, to fight beside me, to grow stronger with me. And in return, I swear to free you from all previous bindings."
Selene's eyes widened. "Young master, that's... that would make us equals. You would be binding yourself to me as much as I to you."
"I know." Anthonio extended his hand. "I need allies, Selene. True allies, not servants. People who stand with me by choice, not obligation. Will you take this oath?"
For several heartbeats, Selene simply stared at his outstretched hand. Anthonio could see the conflict in her eyes—decades of servitude warring against the possibility of freedom, of equality, of unrestrained growth.
Finally, she reached out and grasped his hand.
"I swear," she said, her voice thick with emotion. "Not as your servant, but as your companion. I will stand beside you, fight beside you, grow stronger with you. Until death parts us, or the world ends."
The moment their hands clasped, Anthonio felt something lock into place. Not a binding, but a connection. A resonance between their essences, as if their cultivation bases recognized each other as equals.
Crimson lightning flickered across their joined hands—not from Anthonio alone, but from both of them. Selene's shadow essence, which Anthonio had barely noticed before, surged up to meet his primordial power. The two forces spiraled around each other, neither dominating, neither submitting.
Equal.
Selene's eyes went wide. "My cultivation... the block is gone. I can feel it. I can advance again!"
She released his hand, and immediately her aura began to shift. Transcendence 5-Star... 6-Star... the barrier that had held her in place for years shattered like glass.
"This is incredible," Selene whispered, tears streaming down her face. "Young master, I'm advancing. Right now. The accumulated power I've built up over the years—it's all breaking through at once!"
Anthonio watched in fascination as Selene's cultivation surged upward. This was one of the novel's mechanics he had written but never fully explored—when a cultivator who had been artificially held back was suddenly freed, all their accumulated potential would manifest at once.
Transcendence 7-Star. 8-Star. 9-Star.
Selene's shadow essence exploded outward, filling the training courtyard with darkness. For a moment, the world itself seemed to dim, as if all light was being devoured by her power.
Then, with a sound like breaking chains, she broke through to the next stage entirely.
**Sovereign 1-Star.**
The darkness receded. Selene collapsed to her knees, gasping, her entire body trembling from the sudden advancement. But when she looked up at Anthonio, her eyes were filled with wonder and gratitude.
"I'm... I'm Sovereign level," she whispered. "Young master, I'm Sovereign level."
Anthonio smiled. "And that's just the beginning. With the oath no longer limiting you, how high do you think you can reach?"
Selene's eyes blazed with determination. "I was a prodigy before the oath bound me. The Shadow Syndicate feared me because I was advancing too quickly, threatening their hierarchy. Without limits..." She stood, her body still adjusting to the massive power increase. "Give me two years, young master. Two years of unrestricted cultivation. I can reach Sovereign 7-Star. Perhaps even 8-Star."
"Perfect." Anthonio leaned back against the pillar, suddenly aware of how exhausted he was. The simple act of releasing Selene's oath had drained him more than he expected. His body was still adapting to the primordial power, still learning how to function with essence that exceeded normal human capacity.
"Young master, you need to rest," Selene said, noticing his pallor. "You've pushed yourself too hard today."
"I know." Anthonio closed his eyes. "But it was necessary. We've established the foundation. We know my current limits. We know your potential. We know resources are available in the vault below. Now we can plan properly."
"Plan for what, exactly?"
Anthonio opened his eyes, and in them burned a determination that made even a newly-ascended Sovereign cultivator step back.
"For everything," he said softly. "In two years, Kael Stormborn will enter the Royal Academy. The protagonist of this world, blessed with three SSS-Rank Divine Essences. In the original timeline, he would have become unstoppable, gathering a harem of powerful women and defeating every enemy in his path."
"Original timeline?" Selene looked confused.
"A manner of speaking." Anthonio waved the question away. "The point is, Kael Stormborn thinks he's the hero of this story. He thinks the world revolves around him. But he's wrong."
Anthonio's hand clenched, and crimson lightning danced between his fingers.
"I'm going to take everything from him. Every opportunity, every treasure, every woman destined to fall for him. I'm going to rewrite this entire story with myself at the center. And by the time he realizes what's happening, it will be far too late."
"That's..." Selene hesitated. "That's an ambitious goal, young master."
"Ambition is all I have." Anthonio smiled grimly. "That, and knowledge. Knowledge of every event that will occur over the next two years. Knowledge of every hidden treasure in the kingdom. Knowledge of exactly how to break Kael Stormborn before he ever becomes the hero he's meant to be."
He closed his eyes again, feeling the weight of exhaustion pulling him toward unconsciousness.
"Tomorrow," he murmured. "Tomorrow we find the vault. Tomorrow we begin training properly. Tomorrow we start rewriting the story."
"And today?" Selene asked softly.
"Today, I rest. Today, I recover. Today, I accept that stealing the power of legends has consequences, and I pay the price willingly."
The last thing Anthonio heard before unconsciousness claimed him was Selene's quiet voice: "I won't fail you, young master. I swear it."
---
**Three Days Later**
Anthonio stood in the wine cellar of the Eternal Mist Pavilion, running his hands along the western wall. Somewhere behind these stones lay the entrance to Duke Alaric's secret vault. He just had to find the trigger mechanism.
"Are you certain it's here, young master?" Selene asked from behind him. She stood in the shadows, her newly elevated cultivation making her presence almost impossible to detect. Even Anthonio, with his primordial lightning enhancing his senses, had trouble pinpointing her exact location.
"Certain," Anthonio said, continuing his search. In his novel, he had described this scene in detail—how Damien Crimsonhart would discover the vault during a drunken exploration of the Pavilion's cellars. The trigger was hidden behind a loose stone, shaped like a crimson rose.
His fingers found it. A stone carved with the Crimsonhart family crest—a rose wreathed in flames. Anthonio pressed it, and with a grinding sound, a section of the wall swung inward.
Cold air rushed out from the darkness beyond. Selene materialized beside him, a light crystal already glowing in her hand.
"Incredible," she whispered. "It's really here."
They descended the hidden stairs carefully. The passage led down into solid bedrock, far beneath the Pavilion's foundation. After approximately fifty steps, the stairs opened into a large chamber.
Selene raised her light crystal, and both of them froze.
The vault was enormous. The walls were lined with shelves, chests, and display cases. Gold coins glittered in neat stacks. Jeweled weapons hung on the walls. Ancient scrolls filled entire bookcases. And in the center of the room, on a pedestal of black marble, sat a chest bound with chains of silver.
"This is..." Selene's voice was barely audible. "This is a fortune beyond measure. Young master, there must be ten million gold sovereigns worth of treasure here."
"At least," Anthonio agreed, stepping into the vault. He moved immediately to the bookshelves, scanning the ancient scrolls. Cultivation manuals, technique guides, historical records—Duke Alaric had been an obsessive collector.
And there, on the third shelf, exactly where Anthonio knew it would be: **The Codex of Primordial Essence.**
He pulled the scroll carefully from the shelf. This was one of only three copies in the entire world—a manual written by an ancient sage who had studied primordial powers. In his novel, this codex had been lost to history. Anthonio had placed it here as an easter egg, never imagining he would be the one to use it.
"What is that?" Selene asked, coming closer.
"A cultivation manual specifically designed for people with primordial essence in their veins." Anthonio unrolled the scroll carefully. The text was written in an ancient script, but his author's knowledge made it perfectly readable. "This will teach me how to properly control and cultivate the Primordial Red Lightning."
He continued reading, his excitement growing with each line. The manual was comprehensive—covering everything from basic control exercises to advanced combat techniques. More importantly, it contained breathing methods and meditation forms specifically designed for primordial essence users.
"With this," Anthonio said softly, "I can accelerate my cultivation even beyond what the primordial power allows naturally. I can reach Manifestation within a year. Transcendence within eighteen months. And Sovereign..."
"By the time you enter the Academy," Selene finished. "Young master, you'll be a monster hiding in plain sight."
"That's the plan." Anthonio rolled up the scroll carefully. "Let's see what else Duke Alaric left behind."
They spent the next hour exploring the vault. Anthonio found essence stones of exceptional purity, medicinal pills that could enhance cultivation speed, and several artifacts that would be useful for training. But the most valuable discovery was a set of five scrolls bound together with red thread.
"The Five Lightning Transformations," Anthonio read aloud. "A technique manual for advanced lightning manipulation. This is... this is perfect."
In his novel, these scrolls had been hidden in the Imperial Treasury, guarded by layers of security. Finding them here, in the Pavilion's vault, was beyond fortunate. It was as if Duke Alaric had assembled everything Anthonio would need for his cultivation journey.
"Young master, look at this." Selene had opened the silver-chained chest at the center of the vault. Inside lay a single item: a black ring carved from obsidian, with crimson runes etched into its surface.
Anthonio's breath caught. He knew this ring. He had written it into his novel as one of the legendary artifacts of the ancient world.
**The Ring of Crimson Shadows.**
A spatial storage artifact, but not just any storage ring. This one had been crafted by the Scarlet Dragon itself, imbued with a fragment of its power. It could store unlimited items in a pocket dimension, and more importantly, it could suppress the wearer's cultivation aura, making it impossible for others to sense their true power level.
Perfect for hiding his advancement from the world.
"That ring," Selene said slowly, "is priceless. Young master, if anyone knew you possessed it—"
"No one will know." Anthonio picked up the ring carefully. The moment it touched his skin, he felt it resonate with the Primordial Red Lightning in his veins. The ring recognized him as kin, as someone who carried the Scarlet Dragon's essence.
He slipped it onto his right hand, and immediately felt its power activate. The ring's pocket dimension opened to his consciousness—a vast space, currently empty, waiting to be filled.
More importantly, Anthonio could feel his cultivation aura being suppressed. Where before, someone with sufficient skill could sense his Consolidation 5-Star cultivation, now he appeared to have no cultivation at all. Perfect.
"Selene, can you sense my cultivation now?"
She closed her eyes, focusing. After a moment, she opened them with a look of shock. "Nothing. You appear to be completely without essence. It's as if you're still at F-Rank."
"Good." Anthonio smiled. "We'll collect everything of value from this vault and store it in the ring. Then we seal the vault again and tell no one of its existence. As far as the world knows, I'm still the exiled trash living on charity. No one needs to know about the fortune at our disposal."
They spent the rest of the day transferring items into the ring's storage space. Gold coins, essence stones, cultivation manuals, medicinal pills, artifacts—everything went into the pocket dimension. By the time they finished, the vault was completely empty, and Anthonio possessed resources that would make even the kingdom's nobles jealous.
"This is enough to fund not just our cultivation, but an entire operation," Selene said as they sealed the vault behind them. "Young master, with these resources, we could hire informants, buy influence, even raise a private force if needed."
"All in due time." Anthonio led the way back up the stairs. "For now, we focus on cultivation. Everything else is secondary to becoming strong enough to dominate this world."
They emerged into the wine cellar, and Anthonio carefully triggered the mechanism to seal the entrance. The wall slid back into place seamlessly, showing no sign of the passage behind.
"Tomorrow, we begin proper training," Anthonio said as they left the cellar. "I'll study the Codex of Primordial Essence and learn proper cultivation methods. You'll work on stabilizing your new Sovereign-level cultivation and preparing to advance further."
"And our eventual goal?"
Anthonio's eyes gleamed with crimson light. "In two years, when I enter the Royal Academy, I'll be at Sovereign 7-Star. You'll be at Sovereign 8-Star or higher. We'll have complete control over our powers, perfect suppression of our true strength, and detailed knowledge of every event that will occur."
He looked out the window at the Crimson Mountains, where the cave that had changed everything still waited in silence.
"Kael Stormborn thinks he's special because he has three Divine Essences. He thinks he's destined to be the hero who saves the world. But he's wrong. He's not special. He's not destined. He's just a character in a story I wrote."
Anthonio clenched his fist, and crimson lightning crackled across his knuckles.
"And I'm going to rewrite that story from beginning to end."
---