When I was speaking with Eirnwolf, his voice suddenly rumbled through the void:
"You seem to have a strong person in your house. I think we must end our conversation here."
Before I could ask what he meant, my vision went dark.
When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the altar.
Around me, people were slowly waking from their fainting spell. My parents rushed toward me, faces pale, eyes wide and pulled me into their arms. Their worry hit harder than the pain in my tiny body, and as if to prove I was still very much a baby, I started crying.
But wait… if everyone here was unconscious, who was the "strong person" Eirnwolf sensed?
While confusion filled the hall, elders urged my parents to check my pattern mark. Every child of the Leaven family bore the Devourer Wolf pattern on the hand after awakening.
Except me.
My hand was blank.
Whispers spread, Did the awakening fail? and tension thickened the air. Then, a sudden burning sensation flared across my stomach.
"Aaaaah!" I screamed as searing pain tore through me, and once again, darkness swallowed everything.
When I next opened my eyes, I was in the infirmary. I could hear faint voices, my mother's sobs, my father's pleas. The doctor muttered helplessly; no one understood what was happening to me.
Then came footsteps, heavy, deliberate, echoing louder than the noise around them.
The room fell silent.
A man with a long white beard entered, his aura so overwhelming that even the air seemed to kneel.
My father stood immediately. "Father… please help my child. We cannot live without him."
So this was him, Lucas Leaven, my grandfather. The living legend of Remul. Among the four heads of the powerhouses of Remoul, he was a mountain they could never climb—a man whispered to be the strongest on the continent, perhaps even the world.
Lucas approached, his eyes calm yet blazing with restrained power. He gently took my hand, inspecting it.
"Father," my mother asked, her voice trembling, "is this because the awakening failed?"
Lucas shook his head. "No. He has awakened successfully. You cannot see his pattern because it is not where you expect it to be."
"What do you mean?"
"The engraving that should appear on his hand," he said, a faint smile touching his lips, "is etched upon his stomach."
Gasps filled the room. No one had ever heard of such a thing.
Lucas's expression softened into excitement. "It seems fate has arranged this meeting, little one."
He examined me silently for a long while, performing mysterious checks that left him drenched in sweat. Finally, he straightened and looked at my parents.
"This child's talent… cannot be measured by words like 'genius' or 'prodigy.' He will surpass even the first head of our family."
My father frowned. "Then why do you look so troubled, Father?"
Lucas exhaled slowly. "Because the blessing he carries is powerful enough that anyone would kill to obtain it. How he handles this power will determine the fate of our world. He may lift Helven to glory… or plunge it into ruin."
Somewhere in the void of my unconsciousness, I found myself again—floating in an endless white space.
"What the hell is this place?!" I shouted. "Why am I back here again? What's going on with me?!"
The only answer was silence… until the air trembled once more.