The forest surrounding the Galthar Ruins no longer murmured with the song of insects or the cracking of branches beneath the steps of natural predators. A sepulchral silence had settled over the area, an acoustic void announcing the arrival of an apex being the world had not seen for eons.
Lucian felt as if he were floating. Aria was not merely carrying him; she was moving with a velocity that defied the laws of inertia. To the young man, the scenery had become nothing more than a ribbon of gray and black streaked with moonlight. The pain in his shoulder had faded into a dull burn, a pulse beating in rhythm with the heart of the creature holding him close.
"Do you feel it, my Master?" Aria whispered against his ear, her icy breath sending a shiver through him that had nothing to do with fear. "Their fear. It smells of copper and rancid sweat. The scent of the weak who believe themselves powerful."
She came to an abrupt halt on a massive branch, twenty meters above the ground. Below, the glow of a campfire pierced the mist. Alistair and his guards had settled in for the night, convinced they were safe behind their low-tier magical barriers.
Lucian fixed his gaze on his half-brother. Alistair was laughing, a goblet of wine in hand, no doubt recounting how easily he had disposed of the family's "dead weight."
[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION]
[TARGET IDENTIFIED: ALISTAIR BLACKWOOD (RANK B+)]
[OBJECTIVE: ELIMINATE THE GUARDS AND HUMILIATE THE TARGET]
[BONUS: EACH DROP OF BLOOD SPILLED INCREASES YOUR PRIMORDIAL MANA RESERVE]
"I want them to know," Lucian murmured, his voice firmer than it had ever been. "I don't want them to die in their sleep. I want them to see what they awakened."
Aria let out a small, cruel laugh, her scarlet eyes gleaming with manic light.
"Your desires are my decrees, Master. But remember… the price of my dance is a part of you."
Before he could ask what she meant, she tipped forward into the void.
At the campsite, the first guard did not even have time to scream. An shadow darker than night descended upon him, and his head flew into the bushes before his body hit the ground. Blood erupted in a macabre fountain, but instead of splattering, it seemed to be drawn into the air itself, converging toward Aria's silhouette as she straightened.
"Alarm!" shouted a second guard, drawing his sword. "A beast of the sha—"
His sentence ended in a muffled gurgle. Aria had driven her iron-gauntleted hand straight through his chest. She withdrew her fist, holding a still-beating heart, which she crushed with icy indifference.
Alistair leapt to his feet, his goblet shattering on the ground. His hands ignited, bathing the scene in a flickering orange glow.
"Who's there? What is this dark magic?"
Lucian stepped out of the forest's shadow, walking slowly into the circle of light. His clothes were torn, caked with mud and blood, but his posture was no longer that of a hunched pariah. His eyes reflected the system's crimson glow.
"Lucian?" Alistair stammered, confusion wrestling with arrogance on his face. "How… you should be dead. The beasts should have devoured you!"
"The beasts found something more appetizing, Alistair," Lucian replied in a flat voice.
Aria took position beside Lucian, casually licking the blood from her fingers. The sight of this woman—of supernatural beauty and undeniable violence—made the remaining guards step back.
"She saved you? A demon?" Alistair regained his composure, a scornful smile stretching his lips. "You made a pact with darkness because you were too weak to bear the Blackwood name. Guards! Kill that creature and bring me my brother's head. The Patriarch will reward whoever ends this heresy."
Three guards charged at Aria. They were veterans, trained to fight monsters, but they were nothing before an Origin. Aria did not move until the last instant. Then, in an explosion of speed, she became a whirlwind of claws and steel.
Slash. Rip. Crush.
In less than ten seconds, the ground was littered with limbs. Aria wielded no weapon; her hands were sharper than any enchanted blade. She savored her victims' terror, prolonging their suffering just enough for Lucian to witness every detail.
[EXPERIENCE GAINED: +500 XP]
[EXPERIENCE GAINED: +500 XP]
[LEVEL UP! LEVEL 2 REACHED]
[AVAILABLE ATTRIBUTES: +5 POINTS]
Lucian felt a wave of heat surge through his body. The accumulated fatigue vanished, replaced by artificial vigor. He opened his mental interface and invested everything into [Strength] and [Agility].
Realizing his men were being slaughtered, Alistair hurled a massive fireball at Aria. She intercepted it with a simple flick of her hand, dispersing the flames as if they were cigarette smoke.
"Too slow, whelp," she hissed.
She appeared before Alistair and seized him by the throat, lifting him off the ground. The fire mage tried to conjure a blade of flame, but Aria crushed his wrist with a simple squeeze. The crack of bone echoed through the campsite.
"Master," she said, turning to Lucian, her gaze gleaming with budding jealousy. "May I drain him dry? He smells like you, but far blander. An insult to my palate."
"Not yet," Lucian said, approaching Alistair, whose face was turning purple. "I want him to feel what I felt in the mud."
He picked up Alistair's ceremonial sword—the very blade that had wounded him earlier. It was heavy, but with his new attributes, Lucian handled it with surprising ease.
"Do you remember what you told me, Alistair? That accidents happen quickly in dungeons?"
With a sharp thrust, Lucian drove the blade through his half-brother's thigh. Alistair let out a piercing scream, muffled by Aria's hand still clamped around his throat.
"This is only the beginning," Lucian whispered. "You're going back to the estate. You'll tell our 'father' that the Zero is dead. And that in his place, something far hungrier is coming."
Aria tightened her grip, her nails digging into the skin of Alistair's neck. She tilted her head, red hair brushing the wounded man's face.
"If you speak of me to anyone before we decide otherwise, I will come back, rip out your tongue, and force you to eat it. Understood?"
She hurled him violently against a tree. Alistair collapsed, unconscious from pain and terror.
Calm returned to the devastated camp. Lucian looked at his hands, stained with the blood of those who had oppressed him. He felt no remorse—only cold satisfaction, tinged with growing unease.
Aria approached him, her silhouette outlined by the dying campfire flames. Not a drop of blood marred her armor, as if the vital fluid slid off her without ever staining her.
"You were perfect, my little Master," she whispered, slipping her arms around his neck. "But I'm starving. Battle whets the appetite… and my contract demands to be fed."
She gently pushed him against a tree trunk, her body pressed to his. Lucian felt the raw power emanating from her. She was his protector, yes—but also a predator who regarded him as her exclusive property.
"Your blood, Lucian. Give it to me. Not through violence… but through desire."
She brought her lips close to his neck, where his jugular pulsed wildly.
[WARNING: SYNCHRONIZATION RATIO REQUIRED]
[TO STABILIZE ARIA'S INVOCATION, A FLUID EXCHANGE IS NECESSARY]
[EFFECT: ENHANCED COMBAT ABILITIES / RISK OF INCREASED POSSESSIVENESS]
Lucian then understood the double-edged nature of his power. To grow stronger, he had to surrender to these women. He had to accept being the center of their deranged world.
He closed his eyes and tilted his head, offering his neck.
"Do it."
The pain of the bite was instantly replaced by a wave of supernatural ecstasy. Aria was not merely drinking; she was infusing him with her own mana. Lucian felt his mind open, perceiving dimensions of magic he had never thought possible.
But within that union, he also heard Aria's thoughts. A pathological need to lock him away, to kill anyone who came near him, to keep him for herself alone through eternity's darkness.
She finally withdrew, her lips glowing with a new crimson sheen. She caressed the mark of her bite, which closed to leave a crescent-moon scar.
"You are mine, Lucian Kaito. No one else will ever touch you. Ever."
She smiled, but her eyes were serious—almost threatening. Lucian knew he had just entered a pact far more complex than simple revenge. He was the Monarch, but his throne was surrounded by yanderes ready to burn the world for his smile.
"We're leaving," he said, his voice shaped by newfound authority. "The academy opens its gates in two days. We have an identity to forge."
Aria bowed with mocking grace.
"As you wish… my dear Master. But if even one of those little human girls at the academy looks at you with too much interest… I cannot guarantee the building's survival."
Lucian sighed, already aware that his rise to power would be anything but peaceful.