In front of a towering church, a black limousine came to a stop.
Lucian stepped out from it slowly as numerous gazes stopped and looked at him.
"Is that him, the pig who is Lady Margaret's fiancé?"
"Look at the way he is looking. Does he think he is above us just because he is royal?"
"Tch, that is not a prince. That is the Filth of London, the disgrace of England itself."
Gossip started all around him, but Lucian paid them no mind.
This place was not meant for gossip. It was the Hall of Awakening, where the heirs of the great families would face the fate written in their blood.
One by one, the other young nobles arrived as well. Gilded carriages, armored convoys, and banners of ancient houses filled the plaza. Some stared at Lucian with open disdain, while others smirked, already tasting the pleasure of his humiliation.
"Looks like the Filth of London actually showed up," The heir of Duclain's shouted as he stepped out from his lavish vehicle. His sides jiggled with fat.
"I heard he has not even awakened yet. A royal in name only," he continued.
But before his laughter could rise, Lucian turned. His gaze swept across him, calm and cold, before a faint smile curved his lips.
"So this is the heir of one of the finest families of England?" he said plainly. "I expected greatness. But all I see are the yellow teeth of an overweight child."
Silence fell like a blade at Lucian's words as several faces darkened at once.
Lucian adjusted his gloves and moved to stand beneath a nearby tree. From inside the hall, names were being called one by one. Only a single candidate could enter the ceremony at a time.
He waited in silence for his turn. As he did, the faces of the Nightmares appeared in his mind.
On the eve of January 1st, 2000, the world had changed forever.
Tears had opened all across the sky and land, and monstrous creatures had poured out of them. Billions died that day under their attack.
From the sky, the sun and moon had also vanished that day. In their place, a single red eye appeared in the sky, vast and unblinking, gazing down upon the world.
That was the day darkness claimed everything.
Later, those same monsters were called Nightmares, and the torn spaces where they came from, Backdoors.
They swept across the world like a living tide, conquering city after city without mercy. Within months, more than half of the continents had fallen into their grasp.
Nations collapsed. Kingdoms burned. The age of humanity ended in a single year.
And from that ruin, the era of Awakening was born.
After countless prayers and unheard screams, the sky finally responded. Divine scriptures descended from the heavens like vast streams of aurora light, painting the broken world in colors never seen before.
They were not written in any human language, yet every soul understood their meaning.
When a person stood before the beautiful light and made a vow, a hidden pathway would open in their mind, connecting them to a world no one knew about.
Through that path, ancient beings known as Daydreams would choose their partner. From that bond, humans gained supernatural power.
It was through the Era of Awakening that humanity finally earned the right to fight back against the Nightmares.
"Your Highness, it's your turn for awakening. I wish you the best of luck. Don't fail this time, pwease~"
Elara's voice broke through Lucian's daze as he looked at her blankly.
"You do realize you are my butler, not a street performer?"
"Forgive me, Your Highness. I was merely preparing you emotionally for failure."
Lucian ignored the strangely behaving butler and walked inside the church. Unlike other churches, the interior was completely empty.
No hanging cross. No statue of Jesus. Nothing.
But when he looked up at the sky, a beautiful golden aurora of texts danced like a playful child above. Along the sides, the infamous saint stood with a smile hanging on her lips.
"Your Highness, I welcome you again."
This was not the first time Lucian had met her. Saint Cleo had also overseen his previous two awakening attempts as well, both of which he had failed.
"It's nice to see you again, Saint Cleo. I see you are still as short as ever."
"Hey, what does that mean? I am clearly tall!"
"You would not call a dwarf tall, would you?"
Cleo opened her mouth to argue, but Lucian's words were as sharp as ever. Throughout London, he was infamous for his cutting tongue. Even the greatest lawyers could not hold their ground when it came to verbal sparring with him.
Recognizing this, Cleo gave up and changed the topic.
"So, what vow are you going to make this time, milord? Last time, the will behind your vow was so weak that the golden scriptures did not even react."
Hearing Cleo's words, Lucian's face paled. The memory of the past resurfaced in his mind.
Vows were not simple promises. They were the foundation of power itself. A vow was what a human swore with their very soul before the divine scripture. It was the bridge between a mortal and a pathway beyond the world.
Each vow opened a different path. A vow of protection could lead to the Pathway of Guardians. A vow of destruction could awaken the Pathway of Slaughter. A vow of faith might open the Pathway of Light. And a vow of hatred could drag one into darker, forbidden routes.
Through these pathways, the Daydreams would descend and choose their partner. The nature of the vow decided what kind of power answered.
But there was one absolute rule.
A vow made with weak will, hollow intent, or borrowed courage would be ignored. If the resolve behind the words was not strong enough, the golden aurora would not react at all. The scripture would remain silent, and the person would leave as an ordinary human.
Lucian knew this better than anyone. But this time was going to be different.
He stepped onto the raised platform at the center of the hall and slowly lifted his head. His eyes locked onto the golden aurora above as memories of his past life crashed through his mind.
Fear, loss, hatred, and helplessness washed over him all at once.
Then his lips moved. His voice, which was quiet at first, began to flow.
"I vow to reach the Prime Evolution and kill the one sitting at the top. I vow to kill the—"
The moment those words left Lucian's mouth, thunder ripped across the sky as if the heavens themselves were warning him to stay silent.
The peaceful aurora trembled before shaking uncontrollably. Its light warped, as if even the scripture feared the name he was about to speak.
But Lucian continued, his words never stopping.
"I vow to kill the One at the Summit."
The instant those words left his mouth, the world shifted.
Thunder did not just roar in the sky. It detonated, akin to a time bomb.
The sky above London split apart as countless pillars of divine lightning crashed straight down from the heavens. Every single one of them struck Lucian alone.
The Hall of Awakening was drowned in the blinding light as the ground shattered under the force.
Shockwaves tore through the city as the sky turned bright again and again. Across London, people fell to their knees, unable to breathe under the weight of suffocating pressure.
In the royal palace, King Arthur Pendragon stood before the tall windows, his hands calmly clasped behind his back as he gazed at the storm consuming the distant skyline. His expression did not change.
"So… one has been born again," he said quietly.
A royal attendant trembled behind him. "Y-Your Majesty… that lightning… it is striking only one place."
Arthur's voice remained steady. "That child is an Anomaly Dreamwalker."
His eyes narrowed slightly, not in fear, but in recognition. "He is someone who dares to make an impossible vow… and possesses the will to carry it to the very end."
Another wave of lightning tore through the clouds, but Arthur did not flinch in the slightest. "Divine tribulation is not punishment for such beings," he said calmly. "It is merely the first proof of their resolve."
Far away, at the heart of the storm, Lucian remained standing beneath the endless lightning. His body burned, his blood boiled, yet his spine did not bend.
This was not survival. This was a conquest.
The will that dared to challenge the Oldest Dream had announced itself to the heavens.