THE LAST BLOOD SOVEREIGN

CHAPTER 7 : THE ENEMY WITHIN

 

Kael stared at the figure standing before him.

At first glance, it was him.

The same black hair.

The same grey eyes.

The same face.

But something was different.

The other Kael stood confidently, wearing magnificent black armor covered with crimson symbols. A powerful aura surrounded him, making the air itself tremble.

Unlike the real Kael, this version looked like someone born to rule.

"You..."

Kael tightened his grip on his dagger.

"Who are you?"

The copy smiled.

"I am the version of you that you could have become."

The battlefield around them changed.

The ruined tower disappeared.

The endless valley vanished.

Now they stood inside a massive palace made of black stone and crimson gold.

At the end of the hall stood a throne.

The copy walked toward it and sat down.

"I am the Blood Sovereign."

Kael frowned.

"No."

The figure looked amused.

"No?"

"You spent your entire life being humiliated."

"You were called useless."

"You were abandoned."

"You were rejected by the Bloodstone."

He leaned forward.

"And yet you still believe you deserve that throne?"

Kael remained silent.

Because deep inside...

Those words hurt.

The copy continued.

"Look at yourself."

A mirror appeared beside Kael.

He saw his reflection.

A weak orphan.

A boy who couldn't awaken a Sigil.

A boy who had spent his entire life serving people who looked down on him.

"Your father was a legend."

"Your ancestors ruled the world."

"And you?"

The copy laughed.

"You are nothing."

Kael lowered his head.

For a moment...

The words felt true.

Then he remembered the memory from Vorthrax's scale.

His mother holding him.

His father fighting until his last breath.

They did not protect him because he was already powerful.

They protected him because they believed he could become something greater.

Kael slowly raised his head.

"You are wrong."

The copy's smile faded.

"Am I?"

"Yes."

Kael stepped forward.

"I may not be strong yet."

"I may not have a powerful Sigil."

"I may have failed before."

"But that doesn't mean I will always remain weak."

The copy stood.

The entire palace shook.

"Beautiful words."

"But words do not create power."

Crimson energy exploded from his body.

In his hand appeared the legendary Sovereign Blade.

Kael's eyes widened.

"That sword..."

The copy pointed it at him.

"The Blood Sovereign doesn't need hope."

"He needs strength."

Then he vanished.

Kael barely saw the movement.

A powerful impact struck his chest.

BOOM!

He flew across the battlefield and crashed into the palace wall.

Pain spread through his entire body.

Before he could recover, the copy appeared again.

Another strike.

Then another.

Each attack was faster and stronger than the last.

Kael could not even fight back.

The dagger in his hand felt like a useless piece of metal.

The copy grabbed him by the throat and lifted him into the air.

"Accept reality."

"You are not a king."

"You are not a warrior."

"You are just a mistake that survived."

Kael struggled to breathe.

His vision blurred.

Was this really the truth?

Had everyone been right?

Was he truly worthless?

Then...

A voice entered his mind.

Not Arkan's.

Not Vorthrax's.

His own.

"I refuse."

The words were quiet.

But they carried determination.

The copy frowned.

"What did you say?"

Kael's fingers tightened around the dagger.

"I said..."

"I refuse."

A faint crimson light appeared on his hand.

The copy's eyes widened.

Impossible.

Kael looked down.

A strange symbol was forming on his palm.

A small crimson mark.

The beginning of a Blood Sigil.

The copy stepped backward.

"No..."

"That cannot be."

Kael looked at the glowing mark.

For the first time...

He felt something inside him answer.

Power.

Not borrowed.

Not given.

His own.

The old voice from the tower echoed across the battlefield.

"A Sovereign is not born from power."

"A Sovereign is created by the will to rise after being broken."

The copy's expression changed from confidence to anger.

The palace began collapsing.

"Even if you awaken a Sigil..."

"You are still too weak to defeat me."

Kael wiped the blood from his mouth.

"Maybe."

He raised his dagger.

"But I don't need to defeat you today."

The crimson mark on his palm shone brighter.

"I only need to prove that I can fight."

The First Blood Sovereign's voice echoed again.

"The first stage of the trial begins now."

The copy raised the Sovereign Blade.

Kael charged forward.

For the first time in his life...

He was not running away.

He was fighting.

The battle against himself had begun.