The Primordial Chaos Sovereign

The Awakening Hall of the Norman Clan was silent for a single breath before mockery exploded like thunder.

"Failed!"

The elder conducting the ceremony slammed his staff against the ground, his wrinkled face filled with disappointment and disgust.

"Next!"

The word echoed throughout the massive hall like a death sentence.

Armstrong stood motionless in the center of the Bloodline Formation, his fists clenched so tightly that blood dripped from his palms. Scarlet runes carved into the black stone beneath him slowly dimmed before disappearing completely.

No reaction.

No resonance.

No bloodline.

For the third time in sixteen years, the heavens had rejected him.

Around him stood hundreds of youths of the Norman Clan, their expressions filled with ridicule, pity, or indifference. Above them hung enormous banners embroidered with the symbol of the clan, a crimson serpent wreathed in flames.

The Flame Serpent Bloodline.

The pride of the Norman Clan.

A bloodline descended from an ancient primordial beast capable of melting mountains and scorching rivers into steam. Even a diluted fragment of its power was enough to make the Norman Clan one of the strongest families in Sunset City.

Yet Armstrong had failed to awaken even the faintest trace of it.

A useless son.

A stain on the clan.

"Hahaha!"

Laughter rang out from the crowd.

A handsome young man stepped forward arrogantly, his luxurious crimson robe fluttering behind him. Flames danced faintly around his body, causing nearby youths to look at him with admiration and envy.

Dave Norman.

The greatest genius of the younger generation.

Earlier that same day, he had awakened an eighty percent purity Flame Serpent Bloodline, shocking the entire clan.

"A bastard without a father will always be trash," Dave sneered. "Now that you've failed all three awakenings, get out before I personally throw you out."

The surrounding youths burst into laughter.

"Trash!"

"No bloodline!"

"He disgraced the Norman Clan!"

Armstrong lowered his head silently.

He had grown up hearing these words.

Ever since he was born, the clan despised him. No one knew who his father was. His mother refused to speak of him no matter how much she was pressured and humiliated.

Because of that, Armstrong and his mother had lived at the lowest level of the clan for sixteen years.

Servants mocked them.

Elders ignored them.

Children bullied him.

And now...

He was being expelled.

At that moment, a clear voice suddenly echoed throughout the hall.

"That's enough all of you!"

The crowd instantly quieted.

A beautiful young maiden stepped forward gracefully. Her long silver-black hair flowed like silk while her bright eyes shone with determination.

She was Leila.

The granddaughter of the Grand Elder.

The pride of the Norman Clan.

The girl countless geniuses dreamed of marrying.

Yet at this moment, she stood beside the clan's greatest disgrace without hesitation.

"Armstrong, don't listen to them," she said softly, her voice filled with warmth. "Failing to awaken a bloodline does not mean your life is over. There are powerful cultivators in this world who rose through sheer determination alone and not their bloodline."

Her beautiful eyes met his.

"I believe in you."

The mocking crowd gradually quieted.

Some looked shocked.

Others looked jealous.

Dave's face darkened instantly.

Leila continued gently, "I don't have the authority to stop the elders from expelling you... but when I become stronger, I promise I'll find you and bring you back."

For the first time that day, Armstrong's expression changed.

Warmth filled his chest.

In this cold clan, only two people had ever truly cared for him. His mother and Leila. The young man looked at her quietly before smiling faintly.

"Don't worry, Leila," he said calmly. "I won't break so easily."

Despite the humiliation surrounding him, his voice remained steady.

"I may not have awakened a bloodline, but I'll still become strong. I'll carve my own path in this world."

His dark eyes suddenly sharpened.

"One day, I'll make the Norman Clan regret today." He vowed

The hall fell silent.

Even the elders frowned.

Such confidence from a bloodline-less trash?

Ridiculous.

Yet for some reason, the calm determination in Armstrong's eyes caused unease to stir in their hearts.

Dave suddenly laughed coldly.

"Worthless words."

Flames erupted faintly around his arm as he stepped closer.

"Leila, can't you see reality? This trash has no future." He proudly raised his chin. "I awakened a High-Tier Flame Serpent Bloodline with eighty percent purity. My talent is second only to your grandfather in the history of the clan."

His gaze toward Armstrong became filled with contempt.

"I'm the one worthy of standing beside you."

Leila's expression turned cold.

But before she could speak, Armstrong gently stopped her.

"He's right," Armstrong said quietly.

The crowd blinked in surprise.

Even Dave frowned.

Armstrong smiled bitterly.

"Right now... I'm not worthy of you."

Leila's eyes trembled slightly.

"But it won't remain that way forever."

His fists slowly tightened.

"These insults..." he said softly, "will become the fuel that pushes me forward and become someone worthy of you."

For the first time, the mockery around him no longer mattered.

Because deep inside his chest, beneath years of humiliation and pain, something had awakened.

Not power.

Not bloodline.

But ambition.

An ambition fierce enough to challenge heaven itself.

Leila stared at him silently before revealing a gentle smile capable of melting ice.

"I'll wait for that day."

Dave's expression twisted ugly.

The surrounding youths looked furious with jealousy.

How could this trash receive such affection from the goddess of the clan?

Armstrong ignored them all.

Instead, his gaze turned toward the distant mountains visible outside the Awakening Hall.

Beyond those mountains lay the true cultivation world.

A world where ancient beasts devoured kingdoms.

A world where gods and demons battled across the heavens.

A world where strength ruled above all else.

Dangerous.

Cruel.

Merciless.

Yet it was also a world where miracles could happen.

Armstrong suddenly turned toward Leila one last time.

"I have to go."

A trace of sadness appeared in her eyes.

He forced out a smile.

"I don't have the courage to see my mother right now."

Those words pierced his own heart.

His mother had suffered endlessly for him. Yet after failing all three awakenings, he couldn't bear facing her disappointment.

"Tell her..." his voice became hoarse, "...tell her I love her."

Leila nodded silently.

"And tell her," Armstrong continued, his eyes burning with determination, "that I'll never let her regret giving birth to me."

The air around him seemed to grow heavier.

"One day, I'll become powerful enough to find my father."

The moment those words left his mouth, several elders narrowed their eyes sharply.

Find his father?

Only a few people in the clan knew the truth. Years ago, Armstrong's mother had appeared carrying a mysterious infant drenched in blood beneath a crimson moon. The child possessed a terrifying aura that even the former Patriarch feared.

But by dawn, that aura had vanished completely.

As if sealed.

Or sleeping.

The Grand Elder once secretly said:

"This child either carries a heaven-defying secret... or a calamity capable of destroying worlds."

No one believed him.

After all, Armstrong had never shown any talent.

But at this moment...

As the young man turned and walked toward the massive gates of the Norman Clan alone, an ancient black mark hidden beneath the skin over his heart suddenly flickered faintly.

For the briefest instant, a terrifying primordial aura flashed across existence.

Far away, deep within forbidden ruins, countless ancient beasts suddenly opened their eyes.

In the depths of an endless abyss, sleeping demons trembled.

Above the nine heavens, an old god seated upon a throne abruptly stood up in shock.

And within a forgotten realm buried outside space itself...

A pair of colossal crimson eyes slowly opened.

The universe trembled.