《The Darlings》 Chapter 1, Ruin The room was a mess. The once soft glow of the string lights now cast erratic shadows across the floor, where clothes and scattered items lay forgotten. The bed, unmade, was the epicenter of chaos, its pristine white sheets now tangled and stained with blood and other body fluids. Reflecting the harsh light in stark contrast to the surrounding disarray. The walls, adorned with framed words like "sweet" and "dreams," seemed almost ironic now, their pastel colors too delicate for the dark scene in the room. On the bed lay two figures, separated by more than just space. A man, unconscious, sprawled out on his back, his features slack, his chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. His clothes were in disarray, his face untouched, unaware of the devastation surrounding him. His state was one of complete disregard¡ªof the aftermath of his actions. Beside him, a young girl lay curled up in a protective fetal position, her face twisted in pain. Her body was covered in bruises, the skin marred with the evidence of violence. Her eyes, bloodshot from crying, were wide open, but there was no strength left in her to escape. Her breath came in ragged sobs as her hands were pushed weakly against his chest, desperately trying to break free, to make him away, but failing. Her strength had vanished, drained by the torment she had endured. The stark contrast between them was undeniable. He lay unaware, a picture of unconscious privilege, while she remained a victim, trapped in a nightmare that left her vulnerable and broken. The room told the story of everything that had happened here, the quiet aftermath of an assault¡ªone that would speak volumes to anyone who entered. The door creaked open, and a young girl stepped into the room. Her silver hair shimmered in the dim light, contrasting sharply with the dark blue of her eyes, eyes that widened in horror as she took in the scene before her. The room was a chaotic mess, the walls lined with flickering lights now casting eerie shadows over the wreckage. She froze at the sight. Her voice caught in her throat, the weight of what she was witnessing sinking into her chest. Her body trembled, and her breath came in shallow gasps as her eyes flicked between the two figures on the bed. The man, still unconscious, lay sprawled with an unnerving ease, his face calm in stark contrast to the chaos surrounding him. And then there was Susan, her once bright face now bruised and battered, her body curled in a defensive position as though trying to shield herself from the world. A scream rose in the girl¡¯s chest, but it died before it could break free. It took every ounce of strength to shout, and as she tried, her legs gave out beneath her. She collapsed to the floor with a soft thud, her hands trembling as they pressed against the cold ground. If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. The commotion she caused didn¡¯t go unnoticed. The sound of her fall echoed in the hallway, and within moments, a crowd of nearly fifty students surrounded the door. They stood in frozen silence, their eyes wide with a mixture of shock and disbelief. The silver-haired girl, struggling to regain her balance, finally stood. Her legs wobbled, but she forced herself to move toward Susan. A long cloth lay on the floor nearby, discarded in the chaos. She grabbed it, wrapping it gently around Susan¡¯s bruised body, covering her with an almost reverent care. She leaned closer, her voice shaky but filled with concern, "Su...san... are you okay?" At the sound of her name, Susan''s tear-streaked face lifted, her eyes blurry and unfocused at first. Then, they landed on the silver-haired girl, and recognition sparked in her gaze. The floodgates broke. Susan¡¯s cries grew uncontrollable, the sobs wrenching from deep within her, a mixture of pain and relief. Her hand reached out, but her body trembled, too weak to reach the girl who was trying to help her. As Susan''s sobs filled the room, a new presence entered the scene. A woman, brown-haired and in her early late twenties, stepped through the door. Her eyes quickly assessed the situation, her shock giving way to a grim understanding. She glanced down at Susan, her face hardening as she took in the brutality of the scene. Then, her gaze shifted to the man still lying on the bed, his chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. The woman¡¯s eyes darkened, her lips pressed into a thin line. Without a word, she turned and stepped toward him, her resolve firming with every step. Whoever he was¡ªno matter his status or lineage¡ªhe would pay for what he had done. ¡°...Miss Angelica, I will take Susan to the infirmary,¡± the silver-haired girl stammered, her voice barely above a whisper. She forced herself to compose, but her body still trembled from the horror she had witnessed. With one last look at the room, she turned and left, supporting Susan as they stumbled out. As the door closed behind them, the room fell into a heavy silence. The sobs that had once filled the space were now extinguished, leaving only an eerie stillness in their wake. The tension in the air thickened, oppressive, and undeniable. Every student present could feel it¡ªthe raw fury emanating from Angelica, whose presence alone could command the room. Angelica stood at the center, her figure radiating an icy calm that only heightened the storm of anger within her. A woman who had risen from the lowest of ranks, from a mere commoner to an S+ rank, soon to be SS rank. was not one whose wrath could be taken lightly. Her power had earned her respect, No one in there doubted that Angelica''s wrath would be swift and absolute. The man lying unconscious on the bed, oblivious to the wrath he had invited, was about to experience the full force of a woman who had long been accustomed to ruling her own destiny. No title, no bloodline, and no family standing could protect him now. Angelica yanked the boy¡¯s hair so violently that every student outside the room gasped. The sharp, sudden movement froze them in place, their eyes wide with a mix of shock and anticipation. But as Angelica dragged him upright, The boy, now fully upright, knelt before them. Angelica¡¯s fury, once explosive, shifted into confusion, then disbelief as she recognized him. She and everyone in the room knows who this young boy is he is one of the top academy applicants and more importantly the heir of Solarius house¡¯ ¡° Aaron Solarius ¡± Chapter 2, Solarius: Four centuries had passed since Mana arrived on the planet a mysterious warmth that seeped into the air, the land, and the people. At first, fear had gripped the world. This new energy was strange and alien, a power that science could not explain. But fear gave way to curiosity, and curiosity became hunger. Humanity learned to bend mana to its will. And then, something changed. It began with whispers of individuals seeing glowing screens hovering before their eyes. Status Screens, they called them. These screens detailed strength, and progress. They were intoxicating proof that anyone could rise above their limits. The weak could become strong. The strong could become gods. But power never comes without a cost. Rifts began to tear through reality, spilling nightmares into the world, monsters born of chaos, relentless and savage. They swept through cities like storms, devouring all in their path. Humanity fought back, united by desperation. For every victory, there were countless defeats, and the price was steep: lands swallowed by corruption, entire nations falling to ruin. Yet amidst the despair, heroes emerged¡ªgiants who turned the tide of battle and carried the shattered remnants of humanity on their backs. From the ashes of that dark age, ¡°The United House Of Humanity¡± was born. Nine great heroes, nine families, nine unbroken pillars of strength. They forged a new order, a beacon of stability in a fractured world. Among them was House Solarius, led by Draven Solarius, an SSS-ranker, who is one of the rare few who stand at the pinnacle of humanity''s might. His name alone is a symbol of hope, and his house is a shining bastion of prodigies. Yet, for all its glory, even the brightest light casts a shadow. *** Aaron¡¯ Pov: My body didn¡¯t feel real more like it was suspended, rocking gently in an unseen current. I drifted in that emptiness, weightless yet so impossibly heavy. Then I heard something, The muffled hum of a distant voice pierced the silence, a low tremor that sent unease. It felt close, too close, yet I couldn¡¯t place it. My mind felt empty as I tried to turn toward the sound. I couldn¡¯t move. The voice grew sharper, trembling, feminine but distorted. But I was alone, wasn¡¯t I? The room should¡¯ve been empty. I forced my eyelids to lift, only to be greeted by a haze of light and a blurred silhouette. A face? A figure? The effort drained me, and before I could focus, the darkness claimed me again. In the void, I floated, weightless yet unsteady. The sensation was wrong, nauseating. A faint image burned at the edges of my thoughts the blurry figure. It lingered, unsettling. There was a sound, faint gasps, and then a pang of pain. It didn¡¯t hurt¡ªnot really¡ªbut its presence gnawed at me. My thoughts fractured, circling the image, clawing for clarity. When I opened my eyes again, the blur sharpened, but not fully. Flickers of red danced in my vision, vivid and jarring a figure with crimson hair. Words spilled from her lips, sharp and hurried, but they were muffled, garbled. My sight adjusted, bit, and then her hand shot out. The slap landed on my cheek. It snapped my head to the side, but¡­ nothing. No sting, no heat. Just the dull knowledge that it happened. My eyes focused further, drawn to the face glaring back at me. Anger twisted her features no, not just anger. Disgust. Loathing. It was Ms. Angelica, my homeroom teacher.Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there. Her lips moved again, words laced with venom, but I couldn¡¯t hear them. My mind raced what did I do? Why was she so furious? Before I could gather a single thought, her hand clenched in my hair, dragging me upward. She hurled me like I weighed nothing. Her fist drove into my ribs. The impact was brutal, a force that should have shattered bone. But still¡­ no pain. I felt nothing. The absence of it was terrifying. My chest felt hollow, wrong. I tried to speak, to ask her what was happening, but my mouth wouldn¡¯t move. My limbs wouldn¡¯t respond. She stood over me, seething, a storm barely contained. Her figure blurred again, dissolving into a haze as the weight of unconsciousness wrapped itself around me. My gaze wavered, unfocused, catching on something in the corner. A mirror. The reflection was fractured and incomplete, but I saw it, a bloodied figure staring back. Disheveled hair, skin smeared with crimson streaks, and hollow eyes that didn¡¯t quite seem human. Wait¡­ was that me? The realization gnawed at the edges of my fading thoughts. ¡°Ahh,¡± the words slipped from somewhere deep, a quiet, bitter whisper, ¡°I¡¯m totally messed up.¡± *** Aaron Solarius. Once, that name was a weight carried with pride¡ªa legacy forged in the fires of strength and honor. Draven¡¯s second son, the one destined to uphold the Solarius name. He was meant to protect, to inspire, to be the hope of tomorrow. But tomorrow had splintered. Shattered. In a single, irreversible moment, Aaron¡¯s future was undone. Whispers spread like wildfire through every corner of the pre-academy. The story twisted with each telling, the truth lost in the cacophony. Aaron¡ªthe Aaron¡ªhad assaulted a girl. The boy once revered, now reduced to nothing more than a symbol of shame. The reactions came in waves: some mocked him, some turned away in disgust, others wanted to strike him down, and some simply didn¡¯t care. His name, once a banner of pride, was now sullied, a taint on his family¡¯s honor. Instructors scrambled to contain the chaos, their words struggling to quiet the storm. Meanwhile, Aaron was dragged through the hallways, unresisting, and locked behind the cold doors of Ms. Angelica¡¯s office. The victim was whisked away, sent to the infirmary, then to therapy. But for those who craved spectacle, they tried to sneak into the office, hoping to capture a moment of his disgrace. But Angelica was swift, her fury catching them before they could act. Amidst the turmoil, Aaron slept. At least, that¡¯s what it looked like. To anyone who dared glance into the office, his face was peaceful, as if he had escaped the storm swirling around him. *** The darkness held me in its grip, twisted, dense like a thick fog I couldn¡¯t escape. Flickers of vision cut through, jagged and disjointed. I reached for them, but they slipped through my fingers like smoke. Pain followed each one, sharp and strange, though I could not understand its source. Time became irrelevant eternity folded in on itself. It was only after what felt like lifetimes that my thoughts began to coagulate, to take form in the chaos of the visions. There were two lives, two sets of memories crashing against each other. My life. Both of them. I could remember the past few years of my life with clarity¡ªevery detail, every moment. But beyond that, everything was a haze. My past life¡ªwhat little of it remained¡ªwas nothing more than fragmented, tangled memories, slipping through my mind like water through cracks. The pieces were there, I knew they were, but they were just out of reach, scattered and incomplete, like a puzzle that had lost most of its pieces. The weight of it all was suffocating, overwhelming. I couldn''t make sense of it. And then, the realization hit me. It came crashing down, overwhelming, like a wave of emotions too strong to resist. The weight of it pushed against my chest, suffocating. Memories from my present life collided with something from the past. A book. A book I had read in my past life. The story from those pages, the words, the imagery most of it aligned with the present I was living now. The book had appeared out of nowhere, drawn me in, and consumed my attention. If my past life was real, and the contents of that book were about this world... then The blurry image resurfaced again, but this time, it was sharper and clearer than ever before. The pieces of my fragmented memories seemed to fall into place, and the truth struck me like a jolt. ¡®Did I assault Susan?¡¯ Chapter 3, Punishment Did I assault Susan? The question haunted me, a weight far heavier than anything I had ever felt. A question that tore through my thoughts, breaking whatever peace I had left. Terrified, and shattered, I couldn''t escape the growing certainty that this was something I couldn¡¯t undo. Why did I do it? I screamed, but the sound never came. The silence swallowed it whole. Desperately, I searched for a way to escape these twisted memories, to undo them, but¡­ I couldn¡¯t. I don¡¯t know. I don¡¯t know. Fear wrapped around my heart, squeezing until I couldn¡¯t breathe. I didn¡¯t try to shake it off because I knew. I had sinned. A vile sin that ripped away every shred of peace I had left. I don¡¯t know, I don¡¯t know, I¡­ I DON¡¯T KNOW, I DON¡¯T KNOW! Anger surged within me, mixed with disgust¡ªbut not at anyone else. No. I was furious with myself. Disgusted by my very existence. The self-loathing burned, but I quickly buried it.. I tried to shift my thoughts, to find something¡ªanything else to focus on. My memories. My future. What did my future hold in this academy? Torment, that much was certain. And I wasn¡¯t going to run from it. Why? Because I deserved it. I deserved every ounce of it As I sifted through my memories, my chest tightened further. If what the book said was true¡­ then this world, this cursed world was doomed. The protagonist of the book. The hero. The one destined to lead the fight. Adrian Montague. I knew him. Heir of Montague house. Ranked number one in the pre-academy, his future gang members occupied the top ten. They would become the hope of tomorrow, the shining pillars of strength. Together, they would reach the pinnacle of power and face the demons, the chaos monsters. They would almost defeat the Demon King, but then a terrifying monster from the abyss stronger than ever would emerge, killing nearly everyone in the group. In the end, only the Demon King and Adrian would remain. The story ended there. But what happened after that? I don¡¯t know Also, I wasn¡¯t in the story after I graduated from the academy, but what came next? Was I forgotten? Would I die? Did I ever reach my full potential? Worry took control of me and I kept thinking. Compared to my brother, to the other children of those noble houses, my potential was not that bad. S+ was nothing to scoff at. I should be proud, right? But... what happened to me later? I was ranked number 12 now, and I wasn¡¯t in Adrian¡¯s group. Did I want to be? Maybe. But as I thought that a voice deep inside me warned me to stay away. Stay away from them. Stay away from the academy. *** In a luxurious room, a man in his 40s sat in a finely crafted chair, enjoying the slow, deliberate process of making tea. He poured hot water into the cup, savoring the ritual as he hummed softly. The world outside seemed far from his mind. But as he brought the teacup to his lips, a sharp ringing from his watch broke the moment. ¡°Tch.¡± He clicked his tongue in annoyance. A holographic screen flickered to life, displaying the image of a crimson-haired woman with piercing brown eyes and a face that could melt any man¡¯s resolve. Yet, to him, she was nothing more than a disturbance. ¡°Angelica, this better be important or I¡¯m going to skin you alive,¡± he muttered, barely containing his frustration. ¡°I¡¯m sorry to disturb your tea time, Headmaster,¡± Angelica¡¯s angel-like voice came through the speaker. ¡°But we need your presence immediately.¡± ¡°What happened?¡± ¡°Aaron Solarius assaulted Susan Locke.¡± ¡°Just an assault?¡± ¡°A brutal one. And now, most of the students in the pre-academy know about it.¡± ¡°Hmm...¡± The Headmaster¡¯s face remained neutral, his annoyance growing but his emotions carefully hidden. ¡°Send me the report. I¡¯ll talk to Darven after I read it.¡±Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. ¡°Understood.¡± The Headmaster set the teacup down, waiting. It only took a few seconds before the report arrived. He opened the file and skimmed through it, his irritation mounting with every line. He¡¯d seen this kind of thing before¡ªyouth from noble families causing trouble. And It wasn¡¯t the crime itself that bothered him; it was the hassle, the time, the energy it would take to deal with it. He tapped the holographic screen and called Darven Solarius, but as expected, there was no answer. With a sigh, he dialed the Solarius house number. After a moment, someone picked up and connected him to Darven. ¡°How may I help you, Ravindra Roy?¡± The voice was laced with authority, but to Roy, it only felt like another form of formality. He didn¡¯t care for it. ¡°Your son caused quite a bit of trouble,¡± Roy said bluntly. He explained the situation and then asked how Darven wanted to handle it. For a short moment, the room fell silent as Roy awaited a response. Finally, Darven¡¯s voice came through, colder than before. ¡°He is no longer a Solarius. He has no connection to this family or house. He is a nobody, and I have no responsibility for him. The house will announce his disownment by today. You can administer whatever punishment you see fit.¡± ¡°Are you sure, Darven?¡± Roy asked, though he already knew the answer. ¡°If you have nothing else, I have to go.¡± The call ended abruptly. Roy sat in the silence, contemplating. He didn¡¯t take the disownment personally. He was familiar with the way Darven Solarius operated. But still, it didn¡¯t sit well with him. He called Angelica once more. ¡°Yes, Sir. Did you decide what to do?¡± she asked. ¡°Darven has decided to disown Aaron, and you know the consequences of a disowned noble¡ªespecially from a house like Solarius. Whether he leaves the academy or stays, all that awaits him is torment. But... his potential is significant. I don¡¯t want to waste it. Tell him he can continue his studies. As for the costs, we¡¯ll offer him a scholarship, but he¡¯ll have to work for the academy in return. If you want to add anything else, feel free.¡± ¡°Understood, Sir.¡± The call ended. Roy¡¯s hand reached for the teacup, but it felt cold now. Tch. He clicked his tongue again, frustrated by the turn of events, but with no way to turn back. *** It¡¯s been a while since I opened my eyes and all I could feel was pain, from every inch of my body. Ms. Angelica just smashed the hell out of me. After my body settled a bit. I observed my surroundings and found out that I was in her office. ¡°What are they doing? Leaving me like this with a bloodied body.¡± I muttered, "I know what I¡¯m saying in this situation doesn¡¯t make sense, at least to me." But my mind right now my mind is full of chaos with thoughts that I¡¯m struggling to keep in control. A creaking sound brought my focus back to reality, and I saw a figure with crimson-red hair and sharp brown eyes, which were filled with disgust and animosity. I came to terms with the fact that I could not do anything about my current situation. I know what she came here to say. I will be disowned and as my talent is quite good they don¡¯t want to waste it. So I will be given a chance to attend the academy but after the academy, I will have to work for them for an indefinite time but the novel doesn¡¯t tell anything about what will happen to me after graduation. And my life in the academy is nothing short of an actual hell. And my gut screams to leave the academy. ¡­If my future is as written in the book then I want to change it. I don¡¯t care what happens to me after graduation. I will just start anew. I will leave the academy, change my identity and I will start a new life. ¡°Student Aaron¡± I heard an authoritative voice and I could feel mana in it. She definitely used mana to pressure me. But I will not give in to your pressure. "Your father, Mr. Darven Solarius, has officially disowned you as a result of your actions. However, the academy has decided to grant you a rare opportunity for redemption. You will be allowed to remain enrolled but under strict conditions. You will receive a minimal scholarship to cover the cost of attendance, and in exchange, the academy expects you to demonstrate significant growth, both in strength and in character. This is not negotiable. Upon graduation, you will be assigned a position deemed suitable by the academy. You will have no choice but to accept it if you wish to secure any semblance of a better future or contribute meaningfully to humanity. I expect you to understand the gravity of this opportunity and to treat it with the respect and discipline it demands. Do not squander it." Blood tricked down my ears and my hands as I clenched my fists not to erupt from the rage that I was feeling about this whole messed up situation. Every word she said tingled my emotions but I stayed put. ¡°I decline¡± ¡°What do you mean?¡± I clenched my fists even more and bit my tongue as she increased her mana. ¡°I appreciate the academy''s generosity in extending this opportunity to someone as disgraceful as myself. However, I must respectfully decline the offer and take my leave from the academy.¡± I kept my gaze fixed on the ground, unable to muster the courage to meet her eyes. The weight of her presence pressed down on me, sharp and unyielding, like a blade poised to strike. I couldn¡¯t risk it¡ªcouldn¡¯t escalate things any further. Her silence was deafening, stretching the seconds into an eternity. I didn¡¯t know what expression she wore, whether it was disgust, disappointment, or something far worse. The uncertainty gnawed at me, but I didn¡¯t dare lift my head to find out. Then, cutting through the thick tension, her voice came again ¡°Very well, if you wish to leave, know this: you will be placed before the student body, and the victim of your actions, Susan, She will be free to express her anger, frustration, sorrow, and every ounce of pain you''ve caused her, however she sees fit. Understand, Aaron, this is not a mere reprimand. I cannot guarantee your survival if you choose this path. Think carefully before making your decision.¡± ¡°So, Do you still wish to leave the Academy¡± ¡°Yes!¡± Chapter 4, A Laugh in the Dark In the Southeast ruins, a land forsaken by humanity and unconquered by other races, chaos reigned supreme. Towering trees stretched 30 to 50 feet high, their bark gnarled and blackened by the constant churn of chaos energy and mana. This was no place for the faint-hearted; the very air hummed with opposing forces that should have canceled each other out but instead coexisted in a volatile truce. Beasts came from chaos rifts, and others from regular ones prowled the dense underbrush, their guttural growls echoing through the desolate expanse. Aaron crouched on a massive blue root, its diameter stretching more than eighteen feet across, veins of pulsating mana glowing faintly beneath its surface. Sweat clung to his brow despite the chill in the air, his breathing slow and deliberate. His black eyes darted from shadow to shadow, scanning for the slightest ripple of movement. His senses sharpened to their limits, strained against the oppressive silence. A shiver ran down his spine, and he turned sharply to the left. There it was a ripple of motion. A 12-foot monster emerged, its hulking form a mass of sinew and dark, glistening flesh. Its head was sunken grotesquely between its shoulders, a feature that made Aaron¡¯s pulse quicken. The beast''s power radiated in waves, a suffocating presence that could send most seasoned warriors fleeing. Aaron''s grip tightened around his Grade 4 sword, its edge dulled from the relentless battles of the past five months. He had come here prepared or so he thought. His sword art, a symbol of his uncompromised and constructed strength embodied the essence of his resolve, forged through hours of relentless determination, and had proven effective against the lesser beasts. But here, against creatures with hide as resilient as steel, it was falling short. His strikes inflicted damage, but never enough. Every prolonged fight invited new dangers, as blood and noise drew more predators. The thought gnawed at him, just as it had since his first clash in this accursed land: ''I need a battle art. A technique that evolves with me, one born from me.'' He had dreamed of creating personalized sword art, but not this soon. His choice to train here, in a land where mana flowed unchecked and chaos energy twisted the very fabric of existence, had been born of desperation. In a world where most could expand their mana capacity through disciplined breathing techniques, Aaron found himself at a frustrating impasse. His absorption rate through regular means was abysmal, so flawed that he couldn¡¯t even sense mana outside of his reserves. To achieve a normal absorption rate, he required the aid of mana chambers, a luxury now far beyond his reach. For a crime he wasn¡¯t even sure he had committed, the Solarius House had cast him out, stripping him of his resources. Without the endless wealth his peers took for granted, the costly mana cultivation chambers were far beyond his reach. No matter how much he earned it wouldn¡¯t be enough to cover his debt to the academy and Susan. He was left with no choice but to make this desperate gamble. His gaze dropped momentarily to the faint scars on his left arm, he made it as a reminder of the near fatal mistakes that had cost him for his careless choices. His survival was owed more to the high-grade healing potions he had gotten from the family before his disownment. Yet, even those precious elixirs were running low. Beneath him, the blue root thrummed faintly as he activated his stealth skill, Hide and Seek. The technique cloaked him in shadows, blending him into the chaotic environment. It wasn¡¯t perfect, flaws in its activation left subtle traces for the most perceptive foes to detect but Aaron had honed its use through countless trials. Now, he was a ghost, his presence barely a whisper in the turbulent energy around him.The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation. The black monster lumbered closer, sniffing the air. Aaron¡¯s heart thundered in his chest, but his body remained still, every muscle coiled like a spring. His mind raced. His previous attack had revealed the monster¡¯s weakness: its sunken head. But hitting it was another matter entirely. The blade in his hand felt heavier than ever. He had one chance, and failure wasn¡¯t an option. Drawing a slow breath, Aaron¡¯s eyes narrowed, his focus sharpening to a singular point. One strike. Precise. Absolute. Aaron''s muscles coiled like springs as he perched silently on the massive root, his sword resting light but ready in his grip. Below, the monster lumbered forward, its hulking frame radiating menace. Its grotesque, headless form loomed closer, oblivious to the predator above. ''Speed, not strength. Precision, not power.'' Aaron thought For hours, he had danced around it in a deadly game of hide and seek, testing its movements, probing its reactions. He had studied the subtle tilt of its shoulders, the delay in its turns, and the fleeting vulnerability when it adjusted its posture. This knowledge, painstakingly earned over four relentless days of tracking, crystallized into a single plan. Simple but unforgiving. At ten meters, the beast paused, sniffing the air, its massive body shuddering slightly. Aaron''s grip tightened, his breathing slow and steady. Now. He sprang from the root, blade gleaming as he executed the Crescent Dance- The third form, Variant two- Falling Arc. The monster sensed the motion above and instinctively lifted its hunched form to look. It was the opening Aaron had been waiting for. His sword was carved through the air, a precise slash from the top of its right shoulder to a point 28 centimeters below. The strike landed cleanly on the weak spot of its head, the blade cutting through sinew and bone without resistance. Aaron landed lightly atop the beast as it staggered, a low groan escaping its body before it collapsed in silence. Standing on the monster''s lifeless form, Aaron flicked his blade downward, splattering dark blood onto the earth. He wiped the remnants clean with a practiced motion before sliding the sword back into its sheath. The beast, so relentless and formidable moments ago, now lay motionless, defeated in a single strike. Aaron wasted no time. From his belt, he drew a short sword and infused it with mana, the blade glowing faintly as he drove it into the creature¡¯s flesh. Its hide resisted at first, but Aaron''s focus never wavered. He worked methodically, carving through the thick, sinewy mass until he reached the core embedded deep within. A grey sphere, roughly the size of his palm, emerged from the monster¡¯s chest. It pulsed faintly, a heavy, almost sentient energy swirling within. Aaron held it up briefly, his dark eyes reflecting the dim light. This was the prize he had chased for days, the key to his next breakthrough. He slipped the core into his spatial ring and glanced around. The fight had been swift, but the blood smell could draw unwanted attention. Without hesitation, he melted into the shadows, his movements silent and deliberate. Another battle today wasn¡¯t an option, not when his body needed a good rest. Behind him, the lifeless beast remained a monument to his resolve and the price of his choices. Then, breaking the silence, a laugh echoed faintly through the ruined land. It wasn¡¯t the sharp bark of triumph, nor the unhinged cackle of madness. It was soft, hollow, and utterly devoid of meaning as if the sound had escaped without permission. Aaron blinked, startled to realize it had come from him. He didn¡¯t know why he laughed. Perhaps it was the absurdity of survival in a place that devoured the strong. Perhaps it was the weight of Six months in a world where death seemed more familiar than breath. Or maybe there was no reason at all. The laugh just... happened. It faded as quickly as it had come, leaving him standing in the suffocating quiet once more. Aaron shook his head, brushing off the lingering unease. There was no time to ponder meaning in a place where meaning held no power. Chapter 5, Rank up Aaron faced three choices, each with its own merits and challenges. Staying at the Academy offered steady growth but came at a steep personal cost. He would remain a target of constant torment, branded an assaulter and a fallen heir. The weight of his lineage hung heavy over him as the son of Darven and Elowen, both with potential to reach SSS+ and SSS- ranks, Aaron''s S+ potential was considered an embarrassment. To those at the Academy, he was a waste and a loser, and recent events had only intensified the hatred against him. Stripped of his ties to the Soloarius house, Aaron knew the malice against him would only grow. Staying would mean enduring endless torment, and the book¡¯s insights only reinforced his decision: staying wasn¡¯t worth it. Aaron''s case is somewhat peculiar, one can increase the mana capacity and control by following the breathing techniques but Aaron can¡¯t do that his body refused to absorb mana from his surroundings. He needs to be in place with heavy mana or had to take mana potions and absorb them and circulate the mana from it to increase the mana capacity. So the second option was to leave the academy and earn money while training. While Aaron could likely make some money, it wouldn¡¯t be enough to cover all his needs. He had to train, grow stronger, and clear the debts imposed by the Academy before Susan¡¯s graduation. These charges, as arbitrary as they seemed, were a weight he couldn¡¯t ignore. Regardless, Aaron knew he needed to focus on survival, but the path of earning enough money while also training to grow strong seemed nearly impossible. Without substantial resources, his chances of surviving the events he knew were coming were slim at best. Strength was non-negotiable. To survive Aaron had to reach SSS+ at the very least. Yet, his potential was capped at S+, and the path to even that seemed insurmountable. Still, he couldn¡¯t falter. There had to be a way. That left the third option: the Ruin Lands. To most, it was a fool¡¯s errand, a death sentence for someone of Aaron¡¯s D+ rank. Yet, for him, it was the only path. The book spoke of powerful figures falling in the next five years. Staying at the Academy had kept Aaron alive in the book, but after he left, his fate was a mystery. That uncertainty gnawed at him. If he stayed passive, he would die like so many others. The Ruin Lands, a desolate expanse dotted with unclaimed mana caves, represented his only hope. For six months, Aaron scoured the lands. He found only one mana cave, already monopolized by a human organization. Undeterred, he ventured deeper, where the dangers multiplied but so did the opportunities. To outsiders, Aaron¡¯s survival in the Ruin Lands might seem like sheer luck. Few understood the resilience and cunning it took to endure. The Ruin Lands weren¡¯t forgiving even the strong perished there. Surviving six months wasn¡¯t just fortune; it was a testament to his determination. The deeper he went, the more he relied on his wits and skills. The Ruin Lands tested him in ways the Academy never could. To outsiders, his choice seemed reckless, even suicidal. But Aaron knew that in a world this harsh, survival often required choices that others deemed foolish. But this foolish choice changed his life, Before entering the ruined lands, he chose to get whatever he needed for survival and Aaron knows no matter how much he stuffed his storage ring with useful things, it wasn¡¯t certain that one would survive but what choice does anyone have but to fight for the survival. Aaron possessed three armors, two swords, and a handful of mana and healing potions his final inheritance from the Solarius house. To gather funds, he sold his clothes and shoes, which fetched 4,900 gold units. While ordinary attire cost no more than 25 silver units, his garments, crafted from costly materials and tailored exclusively for the Solarius heir, held immense value. He also had 2,000 gold units in his account a pocket money reserve that, surprisingly, hadn¡¯t been frozen. He wasn¡¯t about to question his luck.This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version. With the money, Aaron purchased a stealth skill and an offensive skill from the black market, both ranked around D+ and C, respectively. Though he wanted more skills, he chose to buy a dungeon reader instead, allowing him to enter low-ranking dungeons in the Ruin Lands. The stealth skill, Hide-seek (D+), proved invaluable, and his growing proficiency allowed him to evade threats with ease. His offensive skill Physical Augmentation (C rank), combined with his unconventional mana control and swordsmanship, became his lifeline. It enabled him to confront monsters ranked higher than himself and emerge alive. Every encounter honed his abilities, forcing him to adapt and survive against overwhelming odds. While everything seemed to go well, Aaron¡¯s breakthrough to C- rank in four months left him uneasy. His mana capacity, reliant on potions, had plateaued, and he had no idea how to expand it further. That¡¯s when he took a gamble no C- ranker would dare to take. After slaying a monster, Aaron stared at its mana core. He¡¯d heard tales of rankers absorbing mana from cores, but only those at A rank or higher could attempt it safely. The process was dangerous, and Aaron had no clear guidance, only an idea. He held the core, channeling his mana into it. At first, nothing happened. Then, a sudden surge hit him, as if the core itself fought back. Pain lanced through his body, and he scrambled to retract his mana, his breath ragged from the effort. The core¡¯s ego flared to life, a chaotic resistance that left Aaron drained and shaken. Whispers about cores possessing an ego, a force that resisted control, had never seemed so real. To overcome the core¡¯s will, he needed more than just mana he needed intent. Aaron wasn¡¯t disappointed. He knew with his mana control and will to survive, it wasn¡¯t impossible for him to produce mana intent. Days turned into grueling practice as he focused on shaping his mana with intent, a force born from sheer willpower and focus. His breakthroughs came slowly, but each attempt honed his control. Finally, the moment came. Aaron faced the core again, his mana laced with intent. The core¡¯s resistance flared, but this time, he didn¡¯t falter. His intent cut through the ego, bending the core¡¯s mana to his will. Sweat dripped from his brow as he absorbed the energy, a newfound clarity settling over him. By projecting his intent outward, he could manipulate ambient mana and draw it into himself. The thought of what this meant set his resolve alight. Now, more than ever, he needed to find a mana cave. *** Aaron reached his hideout, a cave he had discovered after days of searching. It wasn¡¯t much, but it offered a semblance of safety amidst the chaos of the Ruin Lands. He moved quickly, dragging a slab of stone to block the entrance before striking a solar flashlight. The pale, flickering light illuminated the space, revealing jagged walls and a rough floor. Aaron knelt by the dim light, sitting cross-legged with each foot placed on the opposite thigh, cradling the monster core in his hands. The air around him was heavy with latent mana, and he could feel the pulse of energy within the core wild, untamed, and resisting. He wasn¡¯t nervous. This wasn¡¯t his first time, and each attempt had sharpened his skills, deepened his intent, and honed his control to a razor¡¯s edge. Closing his eyes, Aaron let his breathing slow. His mana flowed outward, a calm but commanding force that wrapped around the core. Slowly, deliberately, he projected his intent, shaping it with precision. The core resisted immediately, its ego flaring to life. A chaotic surge pushed against his mana, but Aaron didn¡¯t waver. His intent pressed harder, cutting through the resistance like a blade. The core¡¯s defiance faltered, and then it broke. The wild mana within stilled, bending to his will. Aaron drew it into himself, a warm, vibrant energy flooding his veins. He guided the mana with care, threading it through his pathways and toward his core. But as the energy surged, it wasn¡¯t just his capacity that grew it was the core itself, straining under the influx. A low hum filled the air, rising in pitch as the mana around him seemed to converge. Aaron¡¯s body tensed, every muscle taut as the core within him trembled. This was the moment. He focused inward, sensing the intricate web of mana threads that made up his core. With a sharp push of intent, he directed the flow, forcing the threads to unravel and reweave themselves into something stronger, more intricate. Pain lanced through him sharp, searing, and fleeting followed by a burst of clarity. The trembling stopped, replaced by a steady, powerful rhythm. His core had transformed, its structure now more refined, its strength unmistakable. The shift wasn¡¯t just internal; it resonated outward, the air around him vibrating subtly as his rank solidified. Aaron opened his eyes, exhaling slowly. The monster core in his hands had dulled, its energy completely drained. He set it aside, flexing his fingers as the remnants of warmth faded from his skin. A faint smile tugged at his lips as he muttered to himself, "I¡¯ve ranked up." Chapter 6, chosen?, (PAST) In the opulent confines of Solarius Palace, the air shimmered with energy. The sigil of the Solarius family glowed faintly on the walls, resonating with the rhythmic hum of magic coursing through the room. Elowen lay on the grand birthing bed, her face pale but determined. Around her, the finest awakened physicians and healers worked in synchronized precision, their hands aglow with power as they guided her through the crucible of childbirth. The tension in the room was palpable, a symphony of whispered incantations and soft encouragements. Elowen''s cries pierced the air, sharp and fierce, carrying with them the weight of creation. Then, as if the world itself held its breath, the sound of a newborn¡¯s cry shattered the stillness. A son. Darven Solarius, his usually unflappable demeanor replaced by a rare blend of awe and pride, stepped forward. His hands trembled slightly as he took the squalling infant, the boy¡¯s tiny fists waving in protest against the vastness of his new world. Elowen''s gaze softened as her eyes met the baby¡¯s. Exhaustion etched every line of her face, but her smile was luminous. As she gazed at her son, her voice, though faint with fatigue, carried the weight of her love and devotion. "Aaron" *** In the opulent confines of the Wilson estate, the air shimmered with energy. The sigil of the Wilson family glowed faintly on the walls, resonating with the rhythmic hum of magic coursing through the room. Latha lay on the grand birthing bed, her face pale but resolute. Around her, the finest awakened physicians and healers worked in synchronized precision, their hands aglow with power as they guided her through the crucible of childbirth. The tension in the room was palpable, a symphony of whispered incantations and soft encouragements. Latha¡¯s cries pierced the air, sharp and fierce, carrying with them the weight of creation. Then, as if the world itself held its breath, the sound of a newborn¡¯s cry shattered the stillness. A son. Ragna Wilson, his usually stoic demeanor replaced by a rare blend of awe and pride, stepped forward. His hands trembled slightly as he took the squalling infant, the boy¡¯s tiny fists waving in protest against the vastness of his new world.
Latha''s gaze softened as her eyes met the baby¡¯s. Exhaustion etched every line of her face, but her smile was luminous. As she gazed at her son, her voice, though faint with fatigue, carried the weight of her love and devotion. "Aaron," she whispered, the name slipping from her lips as if it had always been destined for him. The child¡¯s cries quieted, as though sensing the bond that now tethered him to his mother. The room exhaled, the glow of the sigil dimming as calm returned to the palace. "Adrion Wilson" *** In a vast, bustling hall, a young man in his mid-twenties staggered and collapsed. His body convulsed, sweat pouring from his skin as his eyes turned into hollow white voids. His shuddering figure drew a stunned silence from those nearby, their faces a mixture of fear and uncertainty. A few hesitated, stepping forward only to retreat, their instincts torn between helping and preserving their own safety.Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit. One man, older and clad in the confidence of an S-ranker, stepped forward. He reached for the fallen figure, his hand extended in careful determination. As his fingers brushed the convulsing man, an invisible force erupted, sending him hurtling back. The blast threw him with a violence that defied his formidable strength, leaving the crowd more frozen than before. Time dragged on. Five minutes stretched to ten, then twenty. The man¡¯s body trembled without pause, the rhythmic spasms relentless. At last, after forty-five agonizing minutes, the shuddering ceased. His hollow eyes blinked, their milky white retreating to reveal bloodshot clarity. Crimson streaks dripped from the corners of his eyes, and his skin, once smooth, bore fresh cracks. The seer¡¯s body sagged as though held together by willpower alone. A woman broke the paralysis of the crowd, rushing forward to press a healing potion to his lips. The liquid shimmered, but its magic faltered, unable to mend the damage. The SS rank seer struggled to sit upright, his breath shallow and ragged. His mind grappled with fragments of memory, shadows of a vision he could not fully grasp. He closed his eyes, reaching inward, but the images eluded him, slipping like smoke through his fingers. It was an affront to his power, his status, his very identity as a seer of his caliber. A ringing interrupted his thoughts. A call. As he answered, the words from the other end sent a cold wave of dread through him. ¡°A S+ rank seer has died,¡± the voice said, each syllable deliberate, heavy. ¡°Before he passed, his final words were: ¡®Birth of salvation.¡¯¡± The seer¡¯s breath hitched. His body, already broken, seemed to recoil further, his mind ablaze with fragments that suddenly snapped into focus. A child. A birth. The faint, overwhelming impression of a destiny too immense to bear. The phrase echoed in his thoughts, a harbinger of both hope and terror: ¡°Birth of salvation.¡± *** Cillian tried every type of healing potion he could find, but his body refused to mend. As an SS rank awakener, his innate regenerative abilities should have easily surpassed the effects of even the most advanced potions. Yet, an hour had passed, and his condition showed no signs of improvement. His skin remained cracked, his blood seeped from his wounds, and each shallow breath felt like dragging a blade through his chest. He knew his time was short minutes, perhaps hours. Every second carried the weight of impending failure. His mind burned with a singular focus: unravel the meaning of the divination that had ravaged his body. He pushed himself to remember, his breathing rasping like splintered glass. The effort sent waves of pain through his already shattered frame. His vision blurred, his thoughts fragmented, but one truth emerged from the chaos: a child had been born today, a child destined to save humanity. With what little strength he had left, he summoned his team. His voice, though weak, carried an urgency that silenced their protests. "Deliver this message to the United House," he rasped, each word costing him precious breaths. "A child has been born ¡®the salvation of humanity¡¯. This must stay hidden. Tell no one beyond those who need to know." His commands were given, and Cillian slumped back, his body betraying him at last. The moments that followed were heavy with sorrow. A vision he couldn¡¯t decipher, a fate he couldn¡¯t alter, and now a death he couldn¡¯t escape. As a seer, his life had been dedicated to guiding humanity through the perils of the unknown. As a man, his final thoughts were a dirge of regret: I failed. Chapter 7, Chosen, (Past) Elowen Solarius paced the grand hallway of Solarius Palace, her sharp gaze flicking toward the window, where the first light of dawn bathed the courtyard in golden hues. The sigil of her family, ancient and proud, seemed to hum with an energy that mirrored the fire inside her. As the daughter of Jake Anderson, one of the few to achieve the legendary SSS- rank, Elowen had grown accustomed to power since her birth. It ran in her blood, just as it had in her father''s, and she had long since learned that nothing was beyond her reach. Not even the heir of Solarius himself. She had set her sights on Darven long before he became the head of the family. Back then, he was merely the destined heir, but to Elowen, that was enough. She captured him with a quiet intensity that left no room for doubt. And now, as her husband and the current head of Solarius, Darven had become everything she had imagined. As she watched their son Aaron, practicing with his sword, still young but already showing the faintest traces of the power running through his veins, Elowen felt a surge of pride. He was the one, she was certain of it. The chosen one. Or he would be, once the awakening ceremony came when he turned thirteen. Aaron was already a figure of near-worship in her eyes. She saw him not just as a son, but as a future force, a potential god. She adjusted his cloak, smoothing the fabric with a tenderness that belied her usual stern demeanor. He barely noticed, lost in training with his older brother, Ren Solarius. "Darven," she murmured later, her voice low as she approached her husband. "He needs more training. You must make time for him." Darven glanced up from his work, then looked at Aaron and Ren. He could see that Ren had grown skilled with his sword, but Aaron, who had taken up the blade just a year ago, had already surpassed him. His technique was that of someone who had trained for years, while Ren, though talented, was not the same as Aaron. Darven could see it, Aaron was destined for the sword. ¡°I¡¯ll make time,¡± he agreed, though his mind already drifted back to the tasks surrounding him. Elowen watched him for a moment before turning her attention back to Aaron, who was practicing his stances in the corner. She didn¡¯t fear the potential her son held. Not for a second. He was theirs, his future was inevitable. *** All the nine great families knew about the prophecy and were waiting for the day that Aaron and Adrian turned 13. Everyone understood that they might not be the chosen one, but there was no doubt in their minds. After all, if not from one of the nine great families, where else could the chosen one come from? That was the prevailing thought among everyone who knew the prophecy. This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.Today was the day that would reveal whether the prophecy would come true. At one of the Solarius villas, all the nine great families had been invited to witness the awakening ceremony, and the Wilson family had accepted the invitation. They were eager to see who would be chosen¡ªthe one who would wield the great power, whether it would be Aaron, Adrian, or someone entirely unknown. All the families were seated in their assigned spots, awaiting the start of the event. It didn¡¯t take long before Aaron and Adrian entered the room, standing before two silver cores etched with ancient runes. These cores were essential to the awakening process. Once a person places their hand on the core, surreal energy enters their body and initiates the awakening process. It was known to be painful and could take a significant amount of time. Aaron and Adrian both had silver cores in front of them. They sat in lotus positions and placed their hands upon the cores. A sudden surge of energy invaded their bodies, starting the awakening process. As the cores began to form, both Aaron''s and Adrian¡¯s bodies trembled, but they remained focused, unwilling to let anything go wrong. Adrian¡¯s core began to take on a circular shape, and the energy consumption increased. Aaron took a little longer, but his core eventually began to form in the same circular shape, also consuming energy. The entire process was excruciating, taking about 30 minutes for Adrian and 40 minutes for Aaron. Five minutes after Adrian finished, runes began to appear on his silver core. Aspect: Locked Affinity: Elemental Manipulation Potential: SSS+ The room fell into a deep silence as everyone tried to process what they were seeing. Was Adrian the one? An SSS+ potential wasn¡¯t unheard of, though rare, the core could only calculate up to SSS+. So no one in the room knew if his potential was truly just SSS+, or something greater. His Aspect, "Locked," seemed to be something that he had to awaken later but what was that no one knew, and the fact that Adrian could control all elements was unprecedented no human or other race had ever achieved it. Most were already convinced that Adrian was the chosen one. Elowen, who sat beside her husband Darven, couldn¡¯t help but feel frustrated. Her son had yet to complete his awakening, and here was this boy, Adrian, with enormous potential. It shattered her confidence. It wasn¡¯t long before Aaron finished his awakening, but when the runes appeared on the silver core, the room¡¯s atmosphere shifted from anticipation to disappointment. They had hoped that Aaron would at least reach an SSS- rank, but instead, he hadn¡¯t even managed to reach SS-. Aspect: None Affinity: None Potential: S+ Looking at the runes, Elowen gasped. She, an SS- ranker with the potential to reach SSS-, and Darven, an SS+ ranker with the potential to reach SSS+, had birthed... a failure? A child who didn''t have any aspect or affinity and who had only S+ potential? How could this be? Impossible