The System’s Primal Heir

Episode 4: His Own Funeral

"The memorial service has already begun, Elara," the gate guard whispered, his eyes lingering on the dented silver plate of Leo’s borrowed armor.

"I’m aware of the time, Jenkins," Leo replied, his voice a perfect, high-pitched mimicry of the woman he had devoured. "Dungeons don't exactly keep a schedule for the convenience of the bereaved."

The guard stepped back, intimidated by the sharp, arrogant edge in his tone. Leo walked past him, his heart hammering a steady, heavy rhythm against his ribs as he entered the Thorne Guild’s main estate.

"You’re late," a voice hissed from the shadows of the foyer.

Leo turned to see a high-ranking guild officer, a man who had once spat on his shoes when he was a mere porter. The officer was dressed in a formal black suit, a white lily pinned to his lapel in a mock display of mourning.

"The cleanup in the Abyss took longer than expected," Leo said, tilting Elara’s head with a smug, dismissive grace. "Is Marcus already on the podium?"

"He started five minutes ago," the officer muttered, gesturing toward the grand ballroom. "Try to be discreet, though looking like you’ve been through a meat grinder isn't helping."

Leo didn't bother responding, instead pushing through the heavy oak doors that led into the heart of the estate. The ballroom was draped in black silk and white roses, the air thick with the cloying scent of expensive incense and the hum of suppressed mana.

"My brother was a man of quiet courage," Marcus’s voice boomed from the stage, echoing through the silent hall.

Leo stood at the back of the room, his eyes narrowing as he watched his brother stand behind a podium of polished mahogany. Marcus looked the part of the grieving sibling perfectly, his eyes slightly reddened and his posture slumped in a calculated display of loss.

"He knew the risks of entering an S-Rank dungeon as an E-Rank porter, yet he never hesitated," Marcus continued, his voice cracking with practiced emotion. "He died so that the Thorne legacy could endure, a sacrifice that will never be forgotten by this guild or this family."

"What a load of trash," Leo whispered under his breath.

[Warning: Emotional volatility detected. Identity Mimicry stability at 88%,] the System’s red text flickered in the corner of his vision.

"Shut up," Leo muttered to the air, his fingers twitching toward the hilt of the dagger at his waist.

"Did you say something, Elara?" a soft voice asked from his left.

Leo stiffened, turning his head slowly to see Seraphina Vance standing only a few feet away. The Ice Queen Heiress was as striking as the rumors suggested, her hair like spun silver and her eyes a piercing, frozen blue that seemed to look right through his borrowed skin.

"Just commenting on the quality of the acting, Lady Seraphina," Leo replied, bowing his head just enough to remain respectful while hiding his eyes.

"Acting?" Seraphina asked, her voice cool and devoid of the fake warmth that filled the rest of the room. "You think his grief is staged?"

"I think Marcus Thorne is a man who values results over blood," Leo said, his Elara-voice dripping with a subtle, dangerous irony. "Don't you agree?"

Seraphina didn't answer immediately, her gaze drifting back to Marcus on the stage. She stood with a rigid, regal posture, her own mana signature so tightly controlled that she felt like a void in the room’s energy.

"The Thorne family has always been... pragmatic," Seraphina said eventually, her eyes narrowing as Marcus invited the crowd to bow their heads for a moment of silence.

"Pragmatism is just a polite word for murder when it suits the bottom line," Leo whispered.

Seraphina turned her head sharply, her icy blue eyes locking onto his. For a moment, Leo felt a jolt of pure electricity, a resonance in his blood that made the Primal System inside him growl with a sudden, predatory hunger.

"You’ve changed, Elara," Seraphina noted, her voice dropping to a whisper that barely carried over the silence of the room. "Your mana feels... different. Denser."

"Survival has a way of changing a person’s constitution," Leo replied, his heart racing as he felt her probing his energy.

"It’s not just the density," Seraphina said, stepping closer until he could smell the faint scent of winter air that clung to her. "There is a coldness in you that wasn't there this morning. It’s almost like you’re not there at all."

"You’re imagining things, My Lady," Leo said, forcing a smile onto Elara’s face.

[Warning: External mana scan detected. Initiating passive camouflage,] the System pulsed.

"Perhaps," Seraphina murmured, though she didn't look convinced.

On the stage, Marcus raised a hand, signaling the end of the silence. He looked out over the crowd, his gaze sweeping across the rows of elite hunters and wealthy donors until it reached the back of the room.

"We will now move to the garden for the ceremonial internment of Leo’s personal effects," Marcus announced, his eyes lingering on Seraphina for a moment before shifting to the 'woman' standing next to her.

Leo felt Marcus’s gaze like a physical weight, a cold pressure that made his skin crawl with the urge to shift back and tear his brother’s throat out. He forced himself to stay still, to keep the mask of Elara Vance firmly in place.

"Are you coming?" Seraphina asked, her eyes still fixed on Leo.

"I’ll be right behind you," Leo said, gesturing for her to lead the way. "I just need a moment to compose myself. The Abyss was... taxing."

Seraphina lingered for a second longer than was comfortable, her gaze dropping to the shadow at Leo’s feet. For a heartbeat, the shadow flickered, a multi-eyed silhouette appearing on the floor for a fraction of a second before snapping back into a human shape.

"Your shadow," Seraphina whispered, her eyes widening almost imperceptibly. "It moved against the light."

"The lighting in here is terrible for everyone’s eyes, wouldn't you say?" Leo replied, his voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through him.

Seraphina didn't push further, turning to follow the rest of the crowd as they filtered out toward the gardens. Leo waited until she was several paces away before letting out a long, shaky breath that hissed between his teeth.

"That was too close," Leo muttered.

[Identity Mimicry duration: 2 hours 14 minutes remaining,] the System informed him.

Leo followed the procession outside, the evening air biting and sharp against his face. The Thorne gardens were a masterpiece of artificial beauty, filled with bioluminescent flowers that pulsed with a soft, rhythmic glow.

"Here lies the memory of a Thorne who served his guild until the very end," Marcus said, standing before a small, ornate stone chest.

He placed a hand on the lid, looking down at it with a face that promised only brotherhood and honor. Leo stood among the guards, watching as his brother prepared to bury a collection of his old clothes and a broken practice sword.

"Wait," Seraphina said, stepping forward from the circle of dignitaries.

The crowd stirred, a ripple of whispers breaking the somber atmosphere as the Rank-S prodigy approached the memorial. Marcus blinked, his mask of grief slipping for a split second to reveal a flash of genuine confusion.

"Is there a problem, Lady Seraphina?" Marcus asked, his voice smooth and conciliatory.

"I find it strange that a porter of the Thorne Guild would leave behind such a... distinctive signature," she said, her voice carrying clearly over the garden.

"I'm not sure I follow," Marcus replied, his eyes flickering toward his guards.

Seraphina turned slowly, her finger extending to point directly at Leo, who was standing in the shadow of a large marble fountain. The silver light of the moon caught the edge of her hair, making her look like a vengeful spirit of the frost.

"That woman standing there," Seraphina said, her voice as sharp as a falling icicle. "She has the face of Elara Vance, but the soul of someone I thought was dead."

The guards shifted, their hands moving toward their weapons as the atmosphere in the garden turned from mourning to a lethal tension. Leo felt the Primal System roar in his mind, the red interface flashing with a single, violent directive.

[Quest Update: Survival is mandatory. Objective: Eliminate all witnesses?]

"I don't know what you're talking about, Lady Seraphina," Leo said, his Elara-voice beginning to crack and deepen.

"Stop lying," Seraphina commanded, her mana exploding outward in a wave of freezing pressure that frosted the grass at her feet. "I know that mana signature anywhere, even buried under that filth."

Marcus stepped off the podium, his eyes narrowing as he looked at 'Elara' with a new, predatory focus. He raised a hand, and four A-Rank hunters moved to flank Leo, their weapons drawn and glowing with power.

"Elara, if you have something to say, say it now," Marcus demanded, his voice dropping the facade of grief for a tone of pure authority.

Leo felt the Identity Mimicry failing, the mana cost of resisting Seraphina’s pressure too high to maintain the illusion. His skin began to ripple, the gray, stone-like texture of the Primal form bubbling up beneath the surface of his borrowed face.

"I told you I was coming for you, Marcus," Leo said, his voice now a terrifying blend of his own and the Ancient Echo’s.

The illusion shattered like glass, Elara’s form dissolving into a mist of black and red mana that swirled around Leo’s true, mutated body. The crowd gasped, several guests stumbling backward in horror as the 'dead' brother stood before them, his eyes burning like twin suns of blood.

"Leo?" Marcus stammered, his face turning a ghostly, ashen white as he stumbled back against the podium.

Leo stepped forward, the ground cracking beneath his feet as his shadow expanded, rising up like a tidal wave of darkness behind him. He looked at his brother, a cold, jagged smile spreading across his gray face.

"Tell me, brother," Leo rasped, his voice vibrating with a power that made the air tremble. "Am I a hero now?"