13 Heavens: Rise Of The Bloodline Dreg

The Iron Blood Inquisition

“A crystal?” Leo repeated, letting his voice sound tired and a little confused. He rubbed his eyes as if he’d just woken up. “Roric, what are you talking about? We were just trying to survive.”

Roric flinched, still refusing to look at Leo. “I saw you,” he muttered to the floor. “You reached into its head. You pulled something out.”

The lead guard, the one with the scar, didn’t move. His name was Kael, Leo remembered. A mid-level enforcer for the Ironblood family. “We’re not here for a debate, Kaelen. Hand it over. Now.

All findings from the Tangle are property of the Reclaimer Corps, which operates under Ironblood oversight.”

“There is no ‘it’,” Leo said, spreading his hands in a gesture of innocence. He channeled all his frustration at being a dreg into his performance. “Look at this place. Do you think if I found some valuable crystal, I’d still be living here? I’d have traded it for a better room, for real food!”

Kael’s eyes narrowed. He took a step inside, his partner, a bulkier man named Grenn, moving to block the doorway.

“Roric says you moved fast. Faster than you should. He says you hit the beast harder than any Skin Refiner has a right to.” Kael’s gaze swept the room, looking for a hiding place. “Did you find an ancient cultivation method down there, dreg? Something you’re not telling us?”

Leo forced a bitter laugh. “Oh, sure. I found the lost secrets of the universe in a hole in the ground. That’s why I came back here to my one-room box instead of going to the Sylvan Weavers to sell it.”

He looked directly at Roric, his voice sharpening. “Maybe Roric is trying to cover for his own failure. Jax died on his watch. He got his arm broken. Maybe he’s making up a story about a magic crystal to explain why he needed a ‘dreg’ to save him.”

Roric’s head snapped up, his face flushed with anger and shame. “You liar! I saw it!”

“Enough,” Kael snapped. He turned back to Leo. “We’ll see for ourselves. Grenn, search him. I’ll toss the room.”

Grenn moved forward, a nasty smile on his face. He clearly enjoyed this part of the job.

This was a problem. Leo had hidden the Heart-Crystal in a hollowed-out space under his floor panel, but if they searched him, they would feel the difference in his body. His bones were too dense, his skin too perfect. They would know something was wrong.

As Grenn reached for him, Leo’s System flared to life.

[Threat Assessment: Two Body Refining cultivators (Estimated Level 8-9).]

[Direct confrontation is not advised. Success probability: 18%.]

[Strategy: Deception and Misdirection. Feign weakness. Exploit their assumptions.]

Feign weakness, Leo thought. That should be easy. They already think I’m weak.

Just as Grenn’s hand clamped down on his shoulder, Leo let his body go limp. He didn’t resist. Instead, he channeled a tiny, controlled pulse of his Marrow-refined energy into his shoulder muscle, making it twitch and spasm violently.

“Agh!” Leo cried out, crumpling to his knees as if in great pain. He clutched his shoulder. “What did you do?”

Grenn looked down at his hand, then at Leo, confused. “I didn’t do anything! Get up.”

“My… my old injury,” Leo gasped, putting on a masterful show of agony. “From the fall of my family’s estate. You must have hit a nerve!” He let his body tremble, his breathing become ragged.

Kael paused his search of the cot and looked over, annoyed. “What’s the holdup, Grenn?”

“He just collapsed, sir. Says he has an old injury.”

“He’s faking,” Roric said, but he sounded uncertain.

Kael walked over, his boot heels clicking on the cheap floor. He looked down at Leo with disgust. “Pathetic.” He nudged Leo with his foot. “Get up. Your theatrics won’t work.”

Leo looked up, letting real tears of pain from the memory of his family’s fall, from years of humiliation well in his eyes. “I’m not… I can’t…”

Kael sighed, the sound full of contempt. He believed it. This was exactly what he expected from a broken dreg from a fallen house. A weak body and a weaker spirit.

“Forget it. He’s not worth the trouble,” Kael said to Grenn. “He’s clearly hiding nothing but his own incompetence. If he had a fraction of the power Roric claims, he wouldn’t be cowering on the floor.”

He turned to Roric, his voice cold. “As for you, your report is being officially noted as ‘exaggerated due to trauma.’ You lost a man and got yourself injured on a simple mission. Consider yourself on probation.”

Roric’s face fell, all the color draining from it. Probation meant half-rations, the worst assignments. His connection to the Ironbloods wouldn’t save him from this stain.

Kael gave Leo one last, dismissive look. “Clean yourself up, dreg. You’re a disgrace to the Reclaimers.”

With that, the two guards turned and left, their heavy footsteps fading down the hall.

Roric stood frozen for a moment, his future crumbling before his eyes. He shot Leo a look of pure, undiluted hatred before storming out, slamming the flimsy door behind him.

The room was silent again.

Leo slowly got to his feet, all traces of pain gone from his face. He wiped the false tears from his eyes, his expression hardening into cold stone. The performance was over.

He had won. He had hidden his power by playing the very role they had forced upon him. The weak, pathetic dreg. It was the perfect disguise.

But the victory felt hollow. The encounter was a stark reminder of his position. He was living on borrowed time, in a cage owned by his enemies. He couldn’t refine his organs here. He couldn’t grow stronger surrounded by people who saw him as less than nothing.

He needed out. He needed resources, space, and freedom.

As if reading his mind, the System’s interface glowed in his vision.

[Primary Quest Updated: Foundation of the Hegemon.]

[Objective II: Attain Level 13 of Organ Refining.]

[Sub-Objective: Establish a Secure Base of Operations outside the Reclaimer Compound.]

[Secondary Quest Generated: The Hunter’s Path.]

[Objective: Join an independent Hunter Team.

They operate with more freedom and have access to higher-grade spirit herbs and beast cores necessary for your advancement.]

[Recommended Location: The Rusty Bolt Tavern, Downtown Sector. A known hub for freelance Hunters.]

A Hunter Team. It was risky. Hunters were the true elites of the new world, operating outside the direct control of the Families.

They ventured deeper into the Tangle, facing greater dangers for greater rewards. It was the perfect cover. Who would suspect a disgraced Reclaimer dreg of being a powerful cultivator if he was just another low-level Hunter?

A slow smile spread across Leo’s face. The Rusty Bolt Tavern. He knew the place. It was where the real players gathered, far from the watchful eyes of the Ironblood Guard.

He looked around his tiny, pathetic room. This wasn't his life anymore. It was just a shell he was about to shed.

He grabbed a small bag and started packing the few things that mattered. The family hologram. A change of clothes. It was time to stop hiding in the shadows of the compound.

It was time to walk into the den of wolves, and see if he was predator or prey.