The translucent screen was still there. Floating in his vision.
[Name: Violette]
[Bloodline: Shadow Assassin]
[Tier: Unawakened (Requires Awakening Stone)]
[Status: Malnourished, Mana-Starved, Soul-Damaged]
[Loyalty: 65]
[PS: a divine-level reward will be given when Violette receive an Awakening Stone]
Roland stared at the words.
'Shadow Assassin.'
It sounded... potent.
'God-Tier.'
But an Awakening stone was needed
He looked at the last line.
[Loyalty: 65]
What did that even mean? 65 out of what? 100?
It wasn't 100. It wasn't zero.
It was... conditional.
'She's grateful. For now. She felt safe. But she's not loyal. Not yet.'
Makes sense. Why would she be?
They just had met for the first time.
But Roland didn't worry.
He dismissed the screen.
In this world, there were two paths to power.
Path one: Mana.
The common path. The one he had been tested for. The one every noble child prayed for.
You touched the crystal. It lit up. You got a rank.
It was the path of the mage. The path of the magic knight.
It was the path he had failed.
Path two: Bloodline.
Ancient. Rare. Unpredictable.
People said bloodlines were gifts from the old gods. Relics of a forgotten, more violent age.
Most people died without ever knowing if they had one.
The tests were rare. The stones to awaken them... rarer.
Roland, naturally, had been tested for both.
Mana: Zero.
Bloodline: None.
He was an ordinary person. A "cripple."
But this girl...
'She has a God-Tier bloodline. And the System found her for me.'
He had a weapon.
Now, he just needed the key.
'Awakening Stone.'
He knew what he had to do.
A soft splash. Anna was finishing.
The layers of filth were gone. Violette was pale, almost translucent. Her blonde hair, now clean, was the color of pale gold.
She was still fast asleep. Exhausted.
He left the room. Anna didn't look up. She just continued her work.
He went to the castle steward and took the five hundred gold coins his father gave him.
And he went straight to the market.
Time was short. He would be exiled tomorrow.
The market was chaos. Shouting. The smell of unwashed bodies, animals, and rotting vegetables. Mud everywhere.
He needed muscle. He needed supplies.
He went to the slave market.
He bought one hundred of slaves, which didn't cost him much.
As expanding a territory always requires people.
Next. Food.
Salted pork. Barrels of it. Dried beans. Sacks of hardtack. Flour.
He bought three carts full.
Tools. Axes. Shovels. Hammers. Saws. Nails. Rope.
He spent two hundred gold.
Last stop. The church.
A white marble building. Too clean for this city. It looked... out of place.
A priest met him at the door. His smile was serene. His eyes were hard.
"My son. How may the light guide you on this dark day?"
He already knew. News traveled fast.
"I need three God's Lamps."
The priest's smile didn't waver. Not one bit.
"Ah, for the Northern Reaches. A wise precaution. The miasma is a trial for the soul. It corrupts all it touches."
"How much?" Roland cut through the sales pitch.
"The church asks only a humble donation. A token to bless your journey."
"How. Much."
"Fifty gold coins. Each."
Roland's hand tightened on his coin purse.
'Fifty. Fucking. Gold.'
One hundred and fifty gold. For three lanterns.
But the miasma... it was real. He knew the stories. It was a curse. A plague of necrotic energy.
It didn't just kill. It drove men mad. Corrupted them. Turned them into monsters.
The lamps were the only thing that held it back besides mana and special bloodline.
Roland counted out the gold. His jaw was tight.
He took the lamps. They were simple bronze lanterns, a blessed crystal glowing faintly inside.
"May the gods watch over you, my son."
Roland left.
He had slaves. He had food. He had the lamps.
He had 43 gold coins left.
It wasn't enough.
He needed one more thing.
The Awakening Stone.
He went to the audience hall.
His father, Earl Valerius, was there.
He sat upon the high seat, a massive chair of carved wood that looked more like a throne.
He didn't even want to look at Roland.
When Roland entered, the Earl's eyes stayed fixed on a tapestry.
"What?"
The Duke's voice was a low growl.
Roland walked to the center of the hall. His footsteps echoed on the marble.
He was not servile. He was not overbearing.
He was just... there. A fact. An obstacle.
"Father," Roland asked, his voice calm, "could you give me an Awakening Stone?"
That got his father's attention.
Valerius's head snapped around. His eyes, cold and blue, narrowed.
"An Awakening Stone?"
He knew what they were. They weren't sold on the market.
The supply was microscopic. Controlled by the Crown. By the Great Houses.
His father's answer was immediate.
"No."
He turned his head back to the tapestry.
The conversation was over.
Roland merely smiled. A small, cold smile.
"Father."
The Earl ignored him.
"That affair you've been having with the countess from the neighboring territory..."
The words hung in the air.
It wasn't loud. It wasn't angry. It was a statement of fact.
It was a blatant, naked threat.
Roland had stumbled upon it when his father was having sex with that woman weeks ago.
If this matter were exposed...
It would be more than a little... troublesome.
It would be a scandal, and maybe more than that.
The Earl's head snapped back.
His expression... it had changed.
The cold displeasure was gone. Replaced by a blazing, volcanic fury.
"You... dare... threaten me!"
It wasn't a question. It was a roar.
And with the roar, came pressure.
A terrifying magical pressure.
It wasn't physical. It was metaphysical.
It felt like a mountain was slamming down on him.
The air in the hall thickened. It became heavy, like water.
The light from the high windows seemed to dim.
It was the Earl's mana. His full, unrestrained rage, made manifest.
It was designed to crush. To force submission. To make a lesser man kneel, screaming for mercy.
But Roland remained standing.
His back was perfectly straight.
He didn't flinch.
He didn't even blink.
Not a trace of fear in his eyes.
He just... stood there.
He knew, with absolute, cold certainty, that he had his father right where he wanted him.
This wasn't a son begging.
This was a negotiation.