In the depths of an underground training facility, shadows coiled like living things, swallowing all but the faintest flickers of movement. Eislyn stood at the center, clad in darkness, her pale gold hair lost in the void. The twin daggers beneath her robe remained untouched—for now.
Her surroundings were pitch black, the air thick with silence. But she wasn't a stranger to this environment. It was part of her training under Nymeria, the council head herself. No sight, no distractions. Only instincts.
A shift. A whisper in the void.
Eislyn moved.
An arrow, faster than sound, cut through the darkness. Her blade met it mid-flight, deflecting the enchanted projectile for half a second—a half-second too long.
A cold blade pressed against her right shoulder.
"Today's session ends here," Nymeria's voice murmured, calm, effortless.
The suffocating darkness dissipated as the shadow dome collapsed, revealing the chamber's stone walls and the woman standing behind Eislyn.
Eislyn exhaled, sliding her dagger back into place. "I feel like I had at least one more move left."
Nymeria arched a brow, the corner of her lips tugging upward. "Do you now?"
She sheathed her own blade with a lazy flick of her wrist. "That was my ultimate move, Eislyn. Even the best out there would be lucky to last more than nine exchanges against me. You?" A soft chuckle escaped her lips. "Sweetheart, if I got serious, you wouldn't last four."
She sheathed her blade with a lazy flick of her wrist. "That was my ultimate move, Eislyn. Even the best out there would be lucky to last more than nine exchanges against me. You?" A soft chuckle escaped Nymeria's lips. "Sweetheart, if I got serious, you wouldn't last four."
"Having sharp senses honed by battle is the greatest asset in a fight," Nymeria continued, settling comfortably at a nearby round tea table. "Look at the top Magic Knights of the Clover Kingdom—most of them specialize in close-range combat. There's a reason for that."
Eislyn poured herself a cup of tea, her expression unreadable. "It's almost dusk. I should check on him—he must have a lot of questions. But what truly surprised me is that he doesn't even know how to use magic."
Nymeria exhaled, swirling the tea in her cup. "That's what makes him dangerous. Remember what I said about combat? His instincts are razor-sharp, and he's done it all without a shred of mana." She took a slow sip, the warmth settling in her chest. "But instinct alone isn't enough. His value will mean nothing if he can't use magic. That's something we'll soon find out."
Eislyn hesitated for a moment before saying, "I might have a different opinion on that. There's a certain someone who defied logic and reached the highest ranks despite having no magic."
Nymeria's lips curled into an amused smile. "That wasn't 'no magic,' my dear. That was anti-magic. And anti-magic is still magic in its own way. If true strength came from having no magic at all, every farmer in the kingdom would be a powerhouse."
She leaned back, savoring the tea, its calming properties infused with herbs from the forest. The conversation lingered in the air between them—an unspoken acknowledgment that the anomaly in their midst might be something far more unpredictable than they had anticipated.
Meanwhile, Back at the Cottage
A sharp gasp broke the stillness as Derek's eyes snapped open. His first waking thought wasn't one of disorientation or sluggishness—it was the blaring chime of system notifications. A translucent screen flickered before his eyes, its text waiting impatiently for his attention.
He groaned, running a hand down his face. "Would it kill you to start with 'Good morning, honey,' or at least a damn smile?" he muttered
But his sarcasm was short-lived as his gaze settled on the words in front of him.
[System Alert: Status Page Upgrade]
Your status page has been enhanced. Now displaying additional details:
Resistances: Sunlight, Magic, Physical, Mental Influence, Curses.
Passive Traits: Enhanced Regeneration, Enhanced Senses, Blood Affinity.
[You have successfully remained sheltered until sunset. +20 EXP awarded.]
[New Function Unlocked: BLOODLINE ASCENSION]
Current Rank: Pureblood (Incomplete). Evolution remains incomplete; additional requirements must be met before full ascension.
Next Rank: Available once conditions are fulfilled.
[New Passive Ability: Vampiric Adaptation] integrates the treats of consumed blood into your Bloodline without its magical abilities
[System Alert: Your abilities remain incomplete. Seek further blood integration to refine your rank and potential.]
Derek sat up slowly, absorbing the information. His fingers clenched and unclenched as he processed what it meant.
Bloodline Ascension. Incomplete evolution. Additional requirements.
"So, I'm still just a prototype of what I'm supposed to be," he muttered.
His gaze drifted to the dimly lit window. The sun had set, and as much as he would love it he can't sit still , not now .
Stepping outside, Derek surveyed the distant village, his eyes sharp with intent. "I need to complete this Bloodline of mine. But to do that… I need blood. A lot of it." His jaw clenched. "Am I really going to hunt them down just for power?"
But even if he resisted, he knew one thing for certain—he had to drink eventually. The thirst would always return, stronger and more demanding than before if he push it away.
His thoughts churned, spiraling deeper, until a presence broke through his awareness. A figure hovered in his peripheral vision, seated effortlessly on a broom. The cool night air seemed to ripple around her, her silhouette framed against the darkened sky.
Eislyn.
She sat there, composed yet unreadable, her cold features betraying nothing—except for the faintest hint of amusement in her eyes.
Derek smirked, crossing his arms. "Well, I'll give you this—you sure don't look paranoid for someone watching me wander aimlessly through your village." He tilted his head. "Eislyn, right?"
"Yes," she answered, her voice calm, detached. "And you're wrong—I'm not paranoid. I was simply informed that you left your house. I'm here to guide you."
"How considerate," he said, his smirk deepening. Then, as an afterthought, he added, "Though I have to say, it's beyond rude that no one has asked for my name. I am supposed to be your guest, aren't I?"
Eislyn's lips curved slightly. "We didn't ask," she said smoothly, "because we already knew."
A small chuckle escaped her as Derek's expression shifted.
"You knew? How?"
"We are witches," she replied as if that alone explained everything. "Did you really think we simply believed you when you claimed to have lost your memories? Would you believe someone if they showed up in your territory with that excuse?"
Derek let out a dry laugh. "Thanks for easing my paranoia. That was really helpful."
Eislyn ignored his sarcasm. "It was thanks to our Interrogator & Intelligence Specialist, team leader , Mei Duskbloom. She's the one who told us."
Derek blinked. "You mean the voluptuous—" He coughed. "I mean, the one with the colorful eyes? But how?"
Eislyn's gaze sharpened slightly, as if debating whether to call him out, but she continued. "Yes. She is a council member—a very powerful witch, and a rather dreadful one at that. Many fear her for her illusion abilities. Normally, she can extract a wealth of information from people when they're trapped in her illusions. But with you…" Eislyn's voice slowed, as if recalling the report. "All she could find was a voice. Your name—Derek. And beyond that, nothing but an endless void."
Her words lingered in the cool night air.
Derek exhaled, his ash-gray eyes—flickering with traces of lightning—locking onto Eislyn's. "So, where to now? Should we head back to the house?" He tilted his head slightly. "You know I have a lot of questions."
Eislyn held his gaze, unreadable as ever. Then, with the faintest hint of amusement, she gestured toward her broom. "I'll give you a ride." She stepped onto it effortlessly, her posture as steady as if she were standing on solid ground.
"Not that the answers you seek will be anything less than fascinating."