A year had passed at the Virell mansion. Kaelen was no longer the frail boy he once was—he had become a force to be reckoned with, strong enough to stand against imperial knights. His family, once dismissive, now acknowledged him as one of the empire's greatest potentials.
No longer just skin and bones, his body had grown muscular, his presence commanding. Though he had mastered the sword, he preferred the scythe, cutting down every opponent with ruthless efficiency. He had become what Kaelen could never be—a warrior feared and respected.
But beneath the surface, the hunger for revenge burned brighter than ever. It wasn't just his own—it was Kaelen's too. The emotion consumed him, gnawed at him, whispering in his mind like an unrelenting curse. Every night, the rage threatened to break him.
If not for Drakmor, he would have gone mad.
Yet he never remembered these moments of weakness. His mind fractured, his memories slipping away whenever he regained control. He was losing himself—piece by piece.
On the day of his departure to the academy, Lee was set to spar with Kris. His younger brother, eager to test his strength, wanted to see for himself just how much Kaelen had changed.
Stepping onto the sparring field, Lee unsheathed Drakmor. The black metal gleamed under the morning sun, its edge exuding an unnatural chill. Adjusting his stance, he locked eyes with Kris.
Kris smirked. Raising his hand, he shaped it into a blade-like form, golden aura surging around it in a brilliant, crackling glow.
"I won't move from this spot," Kris said, his voice brimming with confidence. "And I'll only attack with my right hand. Your only task—make me move."
Lee tensed. He had grown stronger, but even now, he hesitated. Moving Kris, a warrior on par with the empire's strongest knights, would be no easy feat.
"Then get ready. Set… Go!"
Lee vanished.
A gust of wind exploded from where he stood as he reappeared behind Kris, his speed unnatural. Mana from his dragon heart surged through his veins, flowing into Drakmor. With a sharp breath, he slashed—
A deafening clang.
Kris barely flinched. The golden aura around him rippled as Lee's strike sliced through it, but it wasn't enough. He turned slightly, smirking.
Lee didn't stop. Twisting midair, he yanked Drakmor back, launching another blow.
Kris flicked his fingers.
The severed mana Lee had just cut twisted unnaturally—latching onto his arms, his legs, binding him like invisible chains.
Lee's breath hitched. What—?!
Before he could react, Kris struck.
A golden arc slashed through Lee's torso, splitting him in half.
For a split second, his world blurred. The pain was cold, not hot, as if his body hadn't realized it had been cut apart. But then—
Mana surged. His own body stitched itself back together as golden light filled the air. Kris had already restored him, as if his attack was nothing more than a demonstration.
Lee gasped, collapsing to one knee.
Kris tilted his head, amused. "Too slow."
Lee's fingers twitched. His mind screamed at him to move, to counter, to strike. He wasn't done. Not yet.
With a sharp breath, he hurled Drakmor into the sky. Then, pushing off the ground, he lunged.
Kris met him halfway.
The impact sent a shockwave through the field. Lee reeled as Kris's fist met his chest, the force rattling his bones. He was thrown back, the world spinning around him.
Above, Drakmor descended.
Midair, the scythe shifted.
Dark energy crackled as Drakmor took his physical form, his leg already swinging in a brutal axe kick.
Kris blocked, barely moving.
But that was the opening Lee needed.
Recalling Drakmor, he gritted his teeth, absorbing the mana around them—Kris's included. The air trembled as raw power surged into his dragon heart, an overwhelming, suffocating force.
Then, with a single slash—one that seemed to cut even the stars—Lee struck.
A blinding arc of mana tore through the field, sending Kris skidding back. Dust and golden light swirled around them, distorting the air itself.
For a moment, silence.
Then—Kris laughed.
Not a small chuckle. A wild, maniacal laugh.
"Incredible," he said, brushing dust from his sleeve. His golden eyes gleamed. "That was truly something, Kaelen." He exhaled, his smirk widening. "When the time comes, when you surpass even this—"
His voice dropped, filled with something darker.
"I want to fight you again. But next time, it won't be a spar."
His eyes locked onto Lee's.
"It will be a fight to the death."
Lee barely had time to register the words before his vision wavered. The world blurred, pain lancing through his body. His limbs felt heavy, his consciousness slipping away.
He collapsed.
When he woke, it was two hours later.
Sitting up in bed, he clenched his fists.
The strength he had gained—it was enough. Enough to enter the academy, to graduate. To grow even stronger.
But his goals had changed.
Before, he had wanted to strip his family of power. Break them through status. Crush them through influence.
Now?
Now, all he could think about was killing them.
The thought should have scared him.
But it didn't.
It felt right.
Something was wrong.
Drakmor could sense it. Lee, who once hesitated at the thought of bloodshed, was changing. Warping.
Was it power that corrupted him?
Or was someone—something—pulling the strings behind the scenes?
Standing, Lee dressed himself and sat back on his bed, meditating to recover his mana. As he closed his eyes, he felt himself drifting.
Then—darkness.
A void.
And in front of him—Kaelen.
Neither spoke. They only stared.
But Kaelen's face was blurred. The only thing visible—his eyes. Deep. Endless. Hungry.
Lee didn't need words. He felt it.
He was Kaelen. And Kaelen was him.
Slowly, he reached out—
Knock. Knock.
His eyes shot open.
"Sir, your transport to the academy is ready."
Stepping out of his room, he walked through the mansion one last time.
Outside, the estate workers stood in neat rows, bowing silently as he passed. The morning air smelled of roses, the garden in full bloom.
For a moment, he hesitated. Not out of revenge. Not out of hatred.
But out of sadness.
Then, a small voice.
Turning, he saw a girl standing at the entrance. His little sister.
He had never known her name. Kaelen had never wanted to.
But Lee wasn't Kaelen.
"...Little sister," he said, his voice quiet. "What is your name?"
She trembled. "M-My name is Lilly," she whispered, eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "Nice to meet you… big bro."
A small smile tugged at his lips.
Without another word, he stepped into the carriage.
As the wheels creaked and the horses began to move, he leaned back, exhaling slowly.
The academy awaited