2025-09-14 15:20:04The yard of the Darkveil Clan glowed with lantern light.
The Awakening Ceremony came only once every decade. It was the day the clan’s youths revealed their fates, tested their roots, and secured their place in the hierarchy of the clan.
Bright banners snapped in the wind. Elders with sharp eyes stood in a half-circle with expectations. The stone altar in the center vibrated faintly with ancient qi. The stone was ready to measure meridians.
All the children lined up in ceremonial attire. They looked nervous, eager and trembling with dreams of glory.
Arin Darkveil stood among them. His small fists clenched inside his sleeves.
His hands were pale, cold and trembling. He rubbed his thumb over a hidden scrap of cloth stitched with a broken-spoke symbol which was his mother’s last gift.
The cloth gave him strength. But not enough to silence the murmurs around him.
“There’s the cripple.”
“Why let him take the test?”
“He’ll shame us all over again.”
Arin kept his head bowed. His ears burned with every word.
The first child stepped onto the altar. A shimmer of green qi rose around her body. The elders nodded approvingly.
Another boy followed. Sparks of lightning danced across his arms. The crowd applauded.
Excitement built with each awakening. The clan roared louder and prouder.
And then…. Kael Darkveil walked forward.
He was tall for his age and already broad-shouldered. Kael wore arrogance like a cloth. His red robe shimmered with threads of gold, marking him as the favored son of the Second Elder.
He placed his palm on the altar. For a moment, the yard fell silent.
Then fire erupted.
Flames burst into the sky, coiling upward like dragons, roaring so hot they scorched the very air. The stone beneath his hand glowed red. A phantom flame lotus unfolded behind him, burning very bright.
Gasps echoed through the crowd.
“Fire spiritual roots!”
“Such purity! Such strength!”
“A genius is born!”
Kael turned his head slightly, smirking and basking in their awe. His gaze slid deliberately toward Arin.
Arin’s stomach twisted.
The cheers felt like thunder pressing him into the dirt.
“Next,” an elder barked.
Arin’s legs felt heavy as he stepped forward.
Every eye turned to him already laughing at him and hungry for his failure.
He reached the altar. His palms were sweaty. He pressed his hand against the cold stone.
For a moment, he hoped and he prayed.
Maybe this time… maybe the heavens would grant him mercy.
He focused, forcing every ounce of will through his crippled meridians.
The stone pulsed faintly. And then, there was actually nothing.
The silence lasted only a second before the laughter began.
The laughter started like a wave, crashing over him.
“Pathetic!”
“Still crippled!”
“Can’t even awaken a flicker!”
Arin’s ears rang. His chest hollowed. His hands trembled against the stone.
The elders exchanged cold looks. One shook his head in disgust.
Another sighed. “A disgrace to the bloodline.”
Arin withdrew his hand. His face was pale as ash.
Kael stepped close. His voice was low enough for the crowd to hear.
“You thought the altar would recognize trash?” He sneered. “You’ll never be anything, Arin. You’re just a shadow dragging the Darkveil name into filth.”
Laughter spread among them. Children pointed and adults smirked.
Arin stood frozen. His fists clenched so hard his nails cut his palms. Blood welled but his hand was hidden beneath his sleeves.
He wanted to scream. He wanted to strike.
But his crippled body betrayed him.
All he could do was bow his head and swallow the shame.
Inside, though, something else stirred. “I will change this fate, no matter what it takes me.”
The ceremony ended in celebration for Kael and humiliation for Arin.
The clan feasted. Lanterns glowed brighter and songs rose into the night.
But none of it reached Arin.
He sat alone by the edge of the yard. His knees drawn up, staring at the altar where his shame had been announced for everyone.
The embroidered cloth pressed against his heart. His mother’s words echoed faintly, “You are not a curse. You are my son.”
But even those words felt far away.
Because every face he saw reflected the same truth that he was only a curse.
The yard emptied. The feast waned.
Moonlight spilled across the Darkveil compound, Arin slipped away to the training yard.
The wooden dummies stood in silence, scarred from the fists of countless clan youths. Arin touched one with trembling fingers.
He imagined himself striking it, breaking it and proving them all wrong.
But his body was weak. His meridians are broken. His punches were nothing but hollow slaps.
Frustration swallowed him. He hit the dummy again and again until his knuckles split and blood smeared the wood.
“Why… why am I so weak?” he whispered to the empty night.
A voice cut through the silence. “Still pretending you belong here?” Arin froze.
Kael stepped out of the dark, flanked by two older boys. Their smirks gleamed under the moonlight.
Kael’s eyes burned with cruel delight. His red robe swayed as he crossed the yard.
“You embarrassed me today,” Kael said coldly. “Your failure makes our bloodline look like rot. I won’t allow it.”
Arin backed away with his heart pounding. His fists clenched, though his body shook.
“Go back,” he said quietly. “I don’t want trouble.”
Kael’s laugh was sharp. “You are trouble. You should have died with mother. Instead, you keep clinging on like a parasite.”
The words stabbed deep, twisting in wounds that never healed.
Arin’s breath caught. His eyes stung.
The other boys spread out, circling him and cutting off all escape routes.
Kael’s fist clenched. Flames flickered faintly around his knuckles.
Arin’s pulse roared in his ears. His body trembled.
Previous Chapter
Latest Chapter
The words in the books
Arin had long since lost his sense of time.The room no longer belonged to the natural rhythm of day and night. Curtains remained drawn, sealing him away from the shifting sky, from the passing hours, from the world that continued without him. Only the dim, steady glow of the system’s interface pulsed softly against the walls, casting faint lines of light that moved like silent observers. Dust had begun to gather in the corners, untouched. The air itself felt heavier, as though burdened by the weight of everything he had come to learn—and everything he still did not understand.For days, he had remained there.Not resting. Not truly eating. Not even thinking in the ordinary sense.Studying.Again and again, his eyes traced over the same words written about him. Words that were not suggestions. Not possibilities. But declarations—fixed, deliberate, and absolute.At first, he had believed the difficulty lay in comprehension.He had told himself that if he read carefully enough, slowly e
A group without a leader
The Darkveil remained without a permanent leader.That absence did not create immediate collapse, nor did it weaken the visible structure of the order. Discipline continued. Movement remained coordinated. Loyalty did not fracture. Yet beneath that surface, something essential was missing, something that could not be replaced by temporary authority or maintained through habit alone.Arin stood at the center of it, carrying responsibility without fully claiming the position. He functioned as the acting leader, directing strategy, maintaining order, and ensuring that every individual understood their role. However, he recognized the distinction between temporary command and established leadership. One could guide movement, but the other defined identity.That difference mattered more with each passing moment.Time continued its steady progression, indifferent to hesitation or incomplete decisions. It did not slow to accommodate uncertainty, nor did it grant additional space for reflectio
The refusal to rule
Arin did not summon Varyn immediately, choosing instead to allow the growing tension within the encampment to settle into something unmistakable. The atmosphere had shifted in recent days, becoming denser, more deliberate, as though every individual present could sense that a decisive moment approached. Movements had become controlled, conversations measured, and even the most confident among them carried a quiet awareness that what followed would alter everything.Arin positioned himself at the far edge of the encampment, where the land stretched outward without obstruction. The horizon remained calm, offering no visible indication of the force that would soon disturb it. Yet he continued to observe it with unwavering focus, as though expecting that calm to fracture at any moment.The sound of approaching footsteps reached him, steady and deliberate.He did not turn immediately.“Varyn,” Arin said, acknowledging the presence without shifting his gaze.Varyn stopped a short distance b
Kael preparation
For many days, Kael remained within the den, moving restlessly through its confined space as though the very walls were testing the limits of his restraint. His presence altered the atmosphere in a way that could not be ignored. The air became dense, heavy with an unspoken pressure that pressed against the lungs of every individual who remained near him. Conversation diminished into careful murmurs, and even those were measured, as though a single misplaced word might provoke something far more dangerous than anger.He did not depart from that place. Not for a moment.This was not merely stubbornness or wounded pride. It was something deeper, something that had taken root within him and grown into a deliberate, consuming purpose. The longer he remained, the more it became evident that his stillness was not inactivity but preparation of a far more intense and deliberate nature.“I will not leave until I have created something stronger than anything he believes he possesses,” Kael final
Fate and life
Arin had never been a man who permitted uncertainty to govern his decisions, yet the instant his fingers enclosed around the concealed container resting upon the pedestal within the secluded chamber, something within him shifted in a manner that resisted immediate explanation. The temple had already challenged his understanding of distance, perception, and the passage of time itself, yet what he now held felt fundamentally different from anything he had previously encountered. It carried an intangible presence that suggested significance far beyond physical composition, as though the object had existed across an immeasurable span of time solely in anticipation of this precise moment.The container appeared deceptively simple at first sight. Its exterior lacked ornamentation, inscriptions, or visible mechanisms of complexity. However, Arin had long since learned that simplicity often served as concealment for profound depth. He studied it briefly with unwavering attention, then applied
Arin surrounder
Arin understood something most men in his position often refused to accept until it was far too late: power alone was not enough when facing someone like Kael. Kael was not just an enemy who could be defeated through brute force or strategy alone. He was unpredictable, calculating, and patient in a way that made him far more dangerous than any ordinary opponent. Arin knew that every move he made from this point forward had to carry weight, precision, and purpose, because even the smallest mistake could cost him everything he had built.The report from his personal assistant only confirmed what he had already suspected deep within himself. Kael had vanished without leaving behind a single trace that could be easily followed. That kind of disappearance was not accidental. It was intentional, planned, and executed with a level of skill that spoke volumes about Kael’s current state of mind and preparation.Arin stood still for a long moment after the report was delivered, his gaze distant
You may also like
Rise Of The Sole Heir
Estypen79.4K viewsThe Midnight Heir
South Ashan99.9K viewsDrakon of the Seven Armies
Maddy Taurus541.0K viewsThe Heir of the Family
Rytir90.5K viewsVOWS OF DECEPTIONS
Mitch-Pen420 viewsCarl, The Mysterious Healer
Patience Peters112 viewsThe unstoppable vengeance of Micheal Krux.
Beautypete239 viewsRebirth of Vengeance
PINO-INK267 views