Alistair's eyes snapped open.
For a moment, he lay still, staring at the ceiling of his grand yet empty bedroom. His breath was steady, but his heart…
It ached.
That dream again.
His mother's voice, her smile, the warmth of her embrace—and then, the blood.
His fingers clenched around the silk sheets, nails digging into his palm. No matter how much time passed, that day still haunted him.
The day that took everything.
The night that shaped him into what he was today.
With a sharp exhale, he pushed aside the blankets and sat up, his muscles coiling with tension.
He refused to linger on the past.
The past didn't matter.
Only the present. Only the future. Only power.
Because power was the only thing that never betrayed.
****
His room was spacious, elegant—but devoid of warmth.
No personal decorations. No unnecessary furniture. Just the bare minimum. A massive floor-to-ceiling window overlooked the Vaelthorne Estate's training grounds, where warriors honed their craft under the rising sun.
That was where he belonged.
Not in this room.
Not surrounded by luxuries he no longer cared for.
He stood, his bare feet touching the cold marble floor, and approached the mirror.
His reflection stared back at him.
Tall. Lean. Sharpened by battle.
Black hair, unruly yet regal.
Cold, piercing black eyes—eyes that had only grown darker over the years.
His body wasn't just a noble's.
It was a weapon—forged in blood, sharpened through relentless training.
And he had spent years breaking himself down, only to rebuild stronger.
After his mother's death, everything had changed.
The warmth in his heart had turned to ice.
Where once he had friends, now he had distance.
Where once he had laughter, he had discipline.
He had cut off everyone who did not serve his purpose.
There were once other noble children he trained with. They had seen him as a prodigy, an equal.
Now, they saw him as untouchable.
A monster obsessed with power.
And they were right.
While they wasted time in parties, alliances, and political games, he was training. Pushing beyond limits. Suffering. Growing.
They whispered behind his back.
"He's unnatural."
"He has no emotions."
"Did you hear how he nearly killed his sparring partner?"
He didn't care.
Strength did not need approval.
Only results.
And the result was this:
At sixteen, he was already a D-rank awakened, standing leagues above most nobles his age.
While others still relied on tutors, he had defeated war veterans in duels.
But no matter how far he climbed, he knew one thing.
It wasn't enough.
****
Alistair stepped into the bath chamber, allowing steaming hot water to wash away the remnants of his dream.
Today was the day.
The Second Awakening.
His mana veins would expand. His affinity could evolve. His entire path would be decided.
He could feel it in his bones—his body was already changing.
Mana churned beneath his skin, restless, waiting for the transformation that was coming.
Wrapping a towel around his waist, he exited the bath, moving toward the black and emerald garments laid out for him.
Dark, noble attire, reinforced with mana-imbued silk—elegant yet built for combat.
As he dressed, his eyes flicked to the training sword resting on the nearby rack.
He thought of his past self.
The boy who once played with magic, who laughed, who loved, who believed in kindness.
That boy was dead.
In his place stood a warrior.
He turned away from the mirror, his face unreadable.
Power was the only truth.
And today, he would claim even more of it.
With one final glance at the sunrise outside his window, he exited his chambers.
The next step toward absolute strength awaited.
***
The Vaelthorne Estate was quieter than usual.
It wasn't the absence of people—the estate was always well-maintained by servants, knights, and mages. But today, even the air felt heavy.
Because today wasn't just any day.
Today was the Second Awakening.
***
Dressed in black and emerald attire, his steps echoed through the stone corridors. Servants bowed in silence as he passed, and even the knights of House Vaelthorne gave him respectful nods.
Not because of his title.
But because of his strength.
A noble's name meant nothing without power to back it up. And Alistair had proven, time and time again, that he was no ordinary heir.
As he descended the grand staircase, he spotted Elaine waiting for him in the main hall.
His twin sister stood tall, her long silver-blonde hair falling over her shoulders, the very image of their mother.
But where Alistair radiated cold control, Elaine carried calm serenity.
She turned at his approach, her blue eyes studying him.
"You look like you didn't sleep at all," she murmured.
Alistair adjusted his cuff Not replying.
Elaine sighed. "You had that nightmare again, didn't you?"
He didn't answer. He didn't need to.
Instead, he said, "Come. Father is waiting."
Elaine hesitated for a moment before falling into step beside him.
Together, they walked toward the Awakening Hall.
****
The Awakening Hall was an ancient structure built deep within the estate—a place where Vaelthorne nobles had undergone their awakenings for generations.
Tall stone pillars lined the circular chamber, engraved with runes of Artemis, the Moon Huntress. In the center, a massive ritual circle pulsed with mana, waiting for the two twins to step inside.
Standing before it was Lord Cedric Vaelthorne.
Their father.
Dressed in a long black and emerald coat, he stood with his arms crossed, his sharp emerald eyes focused on them the moment they entered.
Beside him stood Selene Nightveil, Alistair's shadow guard.
She met his gaze briefly, but said nothing.
The air was thick with mana. The ceremony was about to begin.
Cedric's voice broke the silence.
"You both know what is about to happen."
Elaine nodded. "Yes, Father."
Alistair remained silent, but his unwavering gaze was answer enough.
Cedric studied them for a moment before speaking again.
"The Second Awakening will determine your path. Your mana veins will expand. Your affinities may change. And if fate wills it, you may be chosen as an Avatar."
His eyes landed on Alistair.
"You are prepared."
It wasn't a question. It was a fact.
Alistair stepped forward, his voice steady.
"I will surpass all expectations."
Cedric gave a rare nod of approval before gesturing toward the ritual circle.
"Then step forward."
****
Alistair and Elaine stepped into the center of the circle.
The moment their feet touched the ancient carvings, the runes ignited with light—one side glowing emerald, the other silver.
The air shook.
Mana rushed into them.
Alistair gritted his teeth as power surged through his veins, burning like fire and ice all at once.
His entire body trembled, his mana core expanding, stretching, breaking its previous limits—
And then—
A golden notification flashed before his eyes.
[System Notification: Second Awakening in Progress…]
[Expanding Mana Veins…]
[Optimizing Affinity Potential…]
[Calculating Growth Path…]
[Determining Divine Interest…]
***
Alistair's breathing was heavy, but he didn't falter.
This was the moment he had trained for.
He had spent six years preparing, growing, pushing his limits relentlessly.
And now—his body was evolving to match his will.
The power inside him roared.
The Awakening wasn't over yet.
And as the mana continued to surge, he could feel something watching him.
Something divine.
Something waiting.
And it was about to make its choice.
TO BE CONTINUE...