The moment Theon slipped between the statues of the stone forest, he coughed up blood, quickly wiping it with a black towel. His legs trembled, and he collapsed against a statue. His eyes burned from the humiliation. But he wouldn't let anyone see him break apart. People might call him trash, but he was someone with lots of pride. He wouldn't disgrace his father any more than he had already done. He fished out healing herbs from his chest and pushed it into his mouth, chewing it raw. He didn't even have access to elixirs. He had to make do with herbs stolen during herb hunts, eating them raw like a beast. Hatred filled his heart. His parents died protecting the realm, yet the same people they bled for wouldn't even offer him the most minimal respect and protection. It makes him wonder if they truly saw his father as their savior. Or could his death have had something more sinister connected to it? At the moment, there wasn't anyone at the ascension pavilion. Today was the monster

For two whole minutes there was silence. Broken only by the sounds of Theon’s heavy breath. “That’s a very dangerous question. You’re not ready for the answer… because the answer has teeth. And right now, you don’t.” Theon’s throat bobbed, eyes burning. Sure. He understood. He was weak. So weak. Way too weak. And he knew what happened when incompetent people reached for vengeance — what devoured their fathers would devour them too. “Good.” The warmth in the system’s voice thinned, then vanished like smoke in a draft. “You didn’t argue.” Silence stretched for a heartbeat. “Most people do.” The stillness grew heavier this time. “They guess. They assume. They act… and end up causing an irreversible mess.” Something changed in the system’s pitch. Like it was finally shedding its skin to reveal its true form. Cold, analytical, precise. “Revenge isn't done on deductions. It should be based on the cold certainty that each strike of your blade is hitting the right target.

Theon's eyes drifted open, a burst of russet and fire visible in them. He inhaled deeply, a manic smile playing by the corner of his lips. He looked at his hands. Healed. The rifts, black lines, weird veins, all gone. Skin flawless and smooth. If anything, he appeared younger than before, just like those tales of witches who drain other people's energies to maintain everlasting youth. The dark energy around him had thinned considerably, even the creatures hitting the barrier had gotten weaker after their energies got drained alongside the netherworld wasteland's energy. Theon closed his eyes, and inhaled deeply. He could see it clearly. Inside his core, the little golden seed recovered from the black worm had gotten bigger. In his blood were streaks of golden light. His divine bloodline was slowly awakening after more than fifteen years of dormancy! Just that this time, the body it powered had none of the bright righteousness the Dravorn family was known for. “Heaven's path secon

No one said anything for two whole minutes. Shock rendered them speechless, the Dark Forest holding its breath. Something flickered in Mavis’s gaze. He couldn’t determine if Theon was brave or stupid. Either way, he was determined to make the best use of this opportunity. “Child, are you sure of this? This is a grave offense for which you’ve accused His Excellency.” Theon nodded, eyes wet with tears he fought hard to squeeze out. “I know saying this would put me in more danger. But if I keep silent, what if someone else makes another attempt tonight? I couldn’t believe it at first, till I saw…” He let his words trail off, letting others complete the rest in their minds, letting horror do the work. “Slander!” Solvyn roared, raising his hand with aegis gathered, an angry swat of celestial force going straight at Theon. Theon let out an exaggerated yelp as he was sent flying, his body crashing into a stone statue of General Stein. He twitched once, and lay on the ground, playing

The system wouldn’t stop ringing. Hatred points poured in every second, a relentless cascade feeding the fire in his veins. ‘Ding! Hatred points increasing to six thousand!’ Ding! Ding! Ding! Theon inhaled, letting the surge of power scorch through him like liquid flame. It was intoxicating, addictive. He could feel himself falling in love with it. Yet his face remained a mask of pain and frailty, blood drying at the corner of his lips, his shoulders trembling with feigned exhaustion. Solvyn’s eyes burned with hate and bloodlust. Around him, the crowd had fractured into murmurs. Whispers of disapproval, of division and fear. Kane had gone pale as parchment, his knees trembling beneath him. Jerath’s arrogance had evaporated, confidence dissolving like smoke in a gale. Archmage Mavis’s grip on his staff tightened until the wood creaked, but his heart was in far worse shape. It felt as though a titan’s foot pressed against his chest, crushing him slowly, each breath a rag