From Zero Blood, I Became the Untouchable Solar Overlord!

Ethan slammed his boot onto the slick cobblestones, stumbling forward as the sub-zero blizzard nearly ripped him off his feet.

He clutched the small, empty medicine vial against his chest like his own beating heart. Every breath tasted like crushed glass, freezing the blood in his nostrils.

"Just hold on, Toby," Ethan wheezed through chattering teeth, running as fast as his frostbitten legs could carry him. "Brother is coming. I'm getting the medicine."

Back in their freezing slum shack, eight-year-old Toby was convulsing on a rotting straw mattress, spitting thick black blood into a cracked bowl. His blind mother sat beside the boy, sobbing as she held his icy hands.

Toby did not have days. He barely had hours.

In the world of Aethelgard, heat was life and flame was god. Those who could summon fierce magical fire lived like royalty in warm golden towers. Those born with Zero Blood—unable to spark a single ember—were treated like worthless plague rats.

Ethan was a Zero Blood, despised by everyone.

Yet five years ago, he had held a secret power: an Inverted Star Core.

He gave it all away for love.

When his noble fiancée, Cynthia, got her flame core shattered trying to steal a cosmic fire, Ethan made a blood pact with her parents. Every night in the dark, he let Cynthia plunge needles into his chest and drain his rare core to rebuild hers.

The nightly drainage tore his body apart, leaving him crippled, coughing blood, and shivering constantly.

In return, Cynthia’s family swore a sacred oath. They promised a weekly vial of the legendary Frost-Rot Elixir to cure little Toby’s dying lungs, food for his blind mother, and a marriage ceremony once Cynthia healed.

Ethan had swallowed five years of starvation and beatings just to keep his family alive and save the girl he loved.

Ethan threw his aching shoulder into the massive golden doors of the Grand Sun Spire, bursting straight into the blinding heat of the Winter Solstice Gala.

The wave of magical warmth hit him like a furnace, burning his frozen skin. Dozens of glowing Solar Runes floated across the ceiling, lighting up hundreds of wealthy nobles dressed in warm silk.

Ethan blinked through the stinging sweat and melting frost on his eyelashes, leaving a trail of dirty slush across the pristine white marble.

Then, his eyes found the grand stage at the center of the hall, and his breath stopped dead.

Cynthia stood beneath the golden light, looking like a breathtaking goddess in a flowing emerald dress. Her body radiated a fierce, blinding solar heat that warmed the entire room. Her core was completely restored.

Her slender fingers were locked tightly in the hand of Young Master Garrick, the brutal heir of the Energy Syndicate.

In her other hand, Cynthia held up a glowing crystalline bottle filled with liquid gold. It was the genuine, pure Frost-Rot Elixir.

"With this sacred medicine," Cynthia announced to the cheering nobles, her voice ringing with pride, "I seal my betrothal to Young Master Garrick!"

The hall erupted into thunderous applause.

To Ethan, the sound was like an iron hammer smashing through his skull.

"Cynthia!" Ethan screamed, shoving past the gasping nobles. "Cynthia, stop!"

The rich guests shrieked in disgust, backing away as the ragged, bleeding boy stumbled toward the altar.

Ethan gripped the marble steps with torn fingernails, staring up at her in absolute panic. "What are you doing with that bottle?! That is Toby’s life! You swore to give me the real cure today!"

Cynthia looked down from the high stage, her hazel eyes flat and cold.

Young Master Garrick sneered, resting a heavy arm around Cynthia’s waist. "What is this filthy rat barking about, my love? Is this beggar bothering you?"

Cynthia leaned down slightly, her voice dropping into a razor-sharp whisper meant only for Ethan.

"You really are a brainless fool, Ethan," she mocked softly. "Did you honestly think a high-born phoenix like me would ever marry a crippled Zero Blood?"

Ethan felt the world tilt beneath his feet. "The medicine... Cynthia, Toby is coughing black blood right now! Give me the bottle!"

Cynthia smiled, her lips curving with pure malice. "That bottle is worth three city districts. Why would I waste a divine cure on your worthless slum rat of a brother?"

Ethan gasped, his vision blurring. "Then... what have you been giving me for five years?"

"Diluted blackthorn poison," Cynthia whispered with a cruel giggle. "Just enough to keep the brat coughing so you would keep crawling back to let me drain your core."

The words hit Ethan harder than a cannon shell.

"You... you poisoned Toby?" Ethan choked out, his eyes turning blood-red. "He was only three years old! You let his lungs rot on purpose?!"

"And now he can die," Cynthia said, turning away with a bored shrug. "My core is fully healed. I don't need your dirty blood anymore."

Garrick stepped forward and drove the heavy steel toe of his boot straight into Ethan’s chest.

Ethan flew backward, three ribs snapping instantly as his back slammed violently against the hard marble floor.

"Filthy insect," Garrick spat, adjusting the gold rings on his fingers. "You dare breathe the same air as my woman?"

Garrick pulled Cynthia against his chest, kissing her neck in front of the entire assembly. Cynthia giggled softly, resting her cheek against his shoulder with a flushed, adoring face.

Then, Cynthia turned to the crowd, her expression instantly twisting into tearful sorrow.

"Everyone, help!" Cynthia cried out, pointing a trembling finger at Ethan. "This madman snuck into my family’s vault and stole our sacred fire crystals! He has been obsessively stalking me for years!"

Outraged shouts erupted across the ballroom.

"A dirty thief!"

"A Zero Blood parasite stealing sacred fire?! Kill him!"

"You lie!" Ethan roared through the blood filling his mouth, clawing at the floor to stand up. "You stole my Inverted Star Core! You drained me for five years to heal your own body! You are the monsters—"

Before he could finish, Cynthia’s eyes turned cold. She flicked her palm forward and a pressurized jet of burning solar ash shot straight into Ethan’s open mouth!

The searing ash flooded his throat, instantly blistering his tongue and burning his vocal cords to blackened cinders.

Ethan collapsed onto the marble, clawing at his neck in silent, suffocating agony. Thick smoke curled from his lips as only pathetic, wet wheezes escaped his ruined throat.

"Look at him," Garrick laughed loudly, playing to the crowd. "He can't even speak because his guilt chokes him! Guards! Shatter his thieving hands!"

Four hulking enforcers in iron armor stormed forward, pinning Ethan down to the floor.

One guard raised a heavy iron club and brought it crashing down.

Crunch! The sickening sound of splintering bone echoed through the silent ballroom.

Ethan’s spine arched violently off the floor. His eyes rolled back as every single finger in both hands was smashed into bloody pulp. He tried to scream, but only burnt ash and blood bubbled from his lips.

Cynthia watched his ruined hands with blank, emotionless eyes.

"Throw him into the Outer Wastes," Garrick ordered, waving his hand in disgust. "Drag his blind mother and his dying brother out with him. Let the sub-zero blizzard clean up this city's garbage!"

The guards grabbed Ethan by his hair and dragged his limp, bleeding body across the polished floor, leaving a long red smear behind them.

Ethan’s mind screamed in wild terror.

The Outer Wastes?!

The temperature out there reached a hundred degrees below zero. It was an apocalyptic graveyard where even flame masters froze solid in minutes!

No! Not Mother! Not Toby! Ethan pleaded in his silent soul, tears freezing into blood on his cheeks. They won't survive ten minutes in that storm!

Nobody cared. The noble crowd raised their crystal glasses, laughing and cheering as the beggar was dragged away.

The heavy iron side doors were kicked open, and the guards threw Ethan into the deep snow outside the city walls.

He hit the frozen mud, his crushed hands throbbing with unbearable agony.

Beside him, kneeling in the howling snowdrift, his blind mother was already sobbing uncontrollably, using her own frail back to shield little Toby from the biting wind.

Toby was shaking in violent, uncontrolled seizures. His skin was turning an icy, dark blue, and black frost was creeping up his neck. His tiny chest was barely moving.

Behind them, the grand doors of the gala slammed shut, cutting off the warmth. They threw him into the freezing snow, right next to his weeping, blind mother. Beside her, his little brother Toby was shaking violently from a terrible seizure.

The apocalyptic snowstorm roared around them, signaling certain death within the very hour.