13 Heavens: Rise Of The Bloodline Dreg

The Path of The Perfect Foundation

Leo kaelen moved in a low crouch, the reinforced polymer of his reclaim suit whispering against the shattered tile of what was once a Starbucks.

Outside the gaping hole in the wall, the canyons of Manhattan were choked with verdant, aggressive life. A giant, bioluminescent moss clung to the side of the Empire State Building, and the distant, guttural roar of a Titan-class beast echoed from the direction of Central Park.

“Kaelen! You lagging again?” a sharp voice crackled in his earpiece.

Leo tightened his grip on the standard issue pulse baton at his hip. “Just being thorough, Roric. This sector’s unstable.”

A scoff was the only reply. Roric, a burly man whose family had minor ties to the Ironbloods, was the team lead. He made sure Leo never forgot his place.

The team Leo, Roric, and two others was in the “Midtown Tangle,” a newly expanded zone where old office buildings had been violently fused with a petrified, aura-saturated forest. Their mission: secure a cache of Spirit-Growth Herbs rumored to be in the server room of this collapsed skyscraper.

A simple, low-risk mission. But in the New Wilds, low-risk was a relative term.

Leo’s gaze swept the room, his instincts, honed by three years of survival, prickling. His family’s lost bloodline, the Starseekers, had always been sensitive to energy flows. It was a faint, ghostly sense now, like a phantom limb, but it was the only advantage he had left. He felt a subtle, pulsing warmth from deeper within the ruin. The herbs.

“Heat signature confirmed,” chirped Elara, the team’s scout, from her perch on a higher floor. “Concentrated life-force aura. No major beast signatures nearby. Looks clear.”

“See, Dreg? Nothing to it,” Roric broadcasted. “Move in. Kaelen, you’re on point.”

Of course, Leo thought, a familiar bitterness coating his tongue. The disgraced one always got to walk into the potential ambush first. He pushed down the resentment. It was fuel.

He moved forward, his boots crunching on debris. The corridor ahead was dark, illuminated only by the faint green and blue glow of fungi clinging to the walls.

The air grew thicker, the sweet scent intensifying. His phantom sense tingled stronger. The herbs were close.

They reached a reinforced door, warped and half-melted, likely from the initial energy surge of the Revival. Roric gestured impatiently. “Pry it.”

Leo wedged his baton into the gap and levered his weight against it. With a groan of tortured metal, the door gave way, swinging inward to reveal the server room.

It was a treasure trove.

The room was bathed in a soft, emerald light emanating from clusters of plants that had grown through the cracked floor, twining around the dead server racks.

Their leaves were a perfect, shimmering jade, and at the center of each cluster were small, pulsating berries that glowed with condensed life energy. Spirit-Growth Herbs. Enough to be worth a small fortune on the Exchange, or to significantly boost a low-level cultivator at the Skin or Marrow Refining stage.

“Jackpot,” breathed the fourth member of the team, Jax, a quiet man with no family affiliations.

Roric’s face split into a greedy grin. “Alright, bag it all. Quick and clean.”

They set to work, using specialized ceramic tools to carefully harvest the herbs and place them in null-field containers to preserve their potency.

Leo worked methodically, his senses still on high alert. The tingling in his blood hadn’t subsided; it had grown stronger, more urgent. It wasn’t just coming from the herbs anymore. It was coming from beneath them.

“Roric,” Leo said, his voice low. “There’s something else here.”

“Shut up and harvest, Kaelen. Don’t ruin this with your paranoia.”

“I’m serious. The energy signature… it’s deeper.”

Elara’s voice came over the comms, a note of tension entering it. “Uh, guys? I’m getting some minor seismic activity on the bio-scanner. Very localized. Right on your position.”

It was then that the floor trembled. A fine dust sifted from the ceiling.

Everyone froze.

The tremor came again, stronger this time. A deep, resonant thump, as if a giant heart were beating below the foundation.

“The herbs…” Jax whispered, his face pale. “They’re not just growing here. They’re rooted in something.”

The center of the room, a patch of earth that had burst through the concrete, began to bulge. The Spirit-Growth Herbs there withered in an instant, their life force sucked dry.

The earth cracked open, and a wave of pure, malevolent aura washed over them, so thick it was hard to breathe.

A head emerged. It was the color of bleached bone, slick with slime, and featureless save for a massive, circular maw lined with rows of rotating, crystalline teeth.

It was a Grub-Spawn, a juvenile subterranean beast, but this one was enormous—far larger than any recorded. Its aura placed it at least at the peak of Organ Refining.

“Fall back!” Roric yelled, his bravado evaporating.

It was too late. The Grub-Spawn let out a chittering shriek that vibrated in their bones and surged forward, its segmented, worm-like body tearing through the floor. It moved with shocking speed, its maw aimed directly at Jax.

Jax fumbled for his pulse rifle. The beast was on him before he could fire. There was a sickening crunch, a brief, choked scream, and then Jax was gone, swallowed whole.

“Damn it!” Roric roared, unleashing a blast of his own Ironblood-enhanced strength. His fist, sheathed in gray, metallic Qi, slammed into the beast’s side. The impact sounded like a gong, but it only managed to stagger the creature, chipping a few of its crystalline teeth.

The Grub-Spawn turned its attention to Roric, its featureless head somehow conveying rage.

“Elara! Suppressing fire!” Roric bellowed, dodging a lunge.

From above, energy bolts rained down, scorching the beast’s hide. They did little more than annoy it.

Leo activated his pulse baton, the tip glowing with blue energy. He knew it was useless. Standard-issue gear was for dealing with feral dogs and low-level pests, not a mutated Organ Refining beast.

This was a death trap. The herbs were the bait.