The next morning, all Grim could do was think about how the day would go.
"Eat," Rowan said. "You'll need your strength."
"I'm not training today," Grim pointed out, pushing some egg around his plate. "You said I could rest."
"Mental strain can be just as bad as physical training," Rowan replied.
After what felt like an hour for Grim. Rowan stood up. "Come. It's time."
Grim got up from his chair. A little too quickly. Rowan looked at him for a second. Grim tried to compose himself, but his excitement made it hard to act normal.
"Where are we going?" he asked as they walked together.
"Somewhere private," Rowan said.
A plain white brick was pushed in by Rowan. Than the wall opened up. They descended a circular staircase. The air grew colder as they descended the staircase.
When they made it to the bottom of the staircase, they came to a big door. It was 20 feet tall and 10 feet wide. It was a golden door with the Ambrose crest on it. Rowan took a key from around his neck and unlocked it with a click sound was heard.
"This room has been sealed since our family's exile," Rowan explained, pushing the door open. "The Empress has wanted you to come here ever since you could hold a sword.
The chamber was small but well-lit by crystals that glowed a bright yellow color. In the center sat an enormous chest, large enough to fit a dead body inside. Beside the chest were two swords in scabbards
"What's in the chest?" Grim asked, his eyes fixed on it.
"The Ambrose scrolls," Rowan replied. "The collected techniques and wisdom of our family's greatest swordsmen gathered over fifteen generations."
Grim approached slowly. The chest bore the family crest. A sword glowling with light and silver outline.
"Before I open it," Rowan said, "you need to understand what this means. This chest has been locked. Not to be opened until the next light wielder of our clan is born. The future of Clan Ambrose depends on you, Grim."
"No pressure right," Grim said.
"This isn't a joke," Rowan said. "What you're about to see is your future.
[He's right,] the voice in Grim's head commented. [This is clearly significant]
"Oh, now you have an opinion?" Grim thought back. "Thought you didn't know anything about family matters."
[I can observe the obvious,] the voice replied dryly.
Rowan approached the chest and knelt before it. He placed his palm against the chest. Then, a small yellow glow came from the chest. A series of clicks came from the chest before unlocking.
"Blood recognition," Rowan explained. "Only an Ambrose can open it."
Rowan opened the chest and inside was dozen of scrolls.
On top of everything rested, a single scroll tied with a red ribbon, more recent than the oldest but bearing signs of age nonetheless. Rowan lifted it carefully.
"This," he said, "is from your great-grandfather, Caius Ambrose. He left it specifically for the next light wielder in our family."
Grim swallowed, suddenly nervous. "What does it say?"
"I don't know. It's sealed with light mana. Only someone with light affinity can open it."
Rowan handed the scroll to Grim, who grabbed it very quick because he was so excited. The moment his fingers touched the scroll. He felt something warm on his skin. The red ribbon untied itself and fell away, and the scroll unfurled in his hands.
The handwriting was bold and sprawling, taking up more space than necessary—much like the personality Grim had heard about from his father's rare stories.
To the next light wielder of House Ambrose, it began.
If you're reading this, then our family's greatest strength has finally returned to our bloodline, and it's about damn time! Three generations without light affinity would be pathetic if it weren't so concerning. But you're here now, whoever you are, so listen up!
I am Caius van Ambrose, the strongest cultivator to ever live. I'm not bragging, just stating facts. Ten mana hearts, all fully cultivated, and masteries in four sword arts of my own creation or perfection. I killed the Demon Lord Malaxis, bedded three princesses (don't tell them about each other), and drank every noble under the table at the Emperor's centennial celebration. They still talk about that night, I bet! HA!
[Charming,] the voice commented.
"Shut up, I like him," Grim thought back with a grin. His great-grandfather's boastful tone was refreshing after years of Rowan's stoic restraint.
But enough about my magnificence. You've got the scrolls now, and that means you've got responsibilities. The four sword arts of our family aren't just techniques—they're our legacy, our strength, and the reason the Ambrose name struck fear and awe into friend and foe alike.
First, let me explain what you're dealing with:
Sunfire Sword Dao – This is the original technique of the Ambrose Clan, passed down since our founding. Don't confuse it with other light-based sword arts. Those pale imitations focus on illumination or purification. Ours is about channeling the raw heat of the sun, turning your blade into an edge of pure, concentrated sunlight. They called it the "bloodless sword art" because it was so hot it cauterized wounds as it cut. No blood to be drawn, only bodies hitting the floor! Efficient, eh?
Aurora Flash Sword Dao – The first style I created myself. There are only two forms, but they're devastating when mastered. The basis is simple: blind your enemies with light, then cut them down while they're pissing themselves in confusion.
First form: Aurora Flash. Swing your sword to release an intense burst of multicolored light that overwhelms your opponent's vision. The trick is making the light bend and refract unpredictably, so they can't anticipate your next move. Do it right, and they'll be temporarily blind and disoriented. Easy pickings!
Second form: Sundering Slash. This one's my favorite. Gather aurora energy and compress it into your blade's edge. When you unleash it, the sword releases an arc of concentrated light energy that cuts through anything in its path. The attack happens the instant you draw your sword—so fast they won't even see it coming. Just leaves a lingering glow where your slash passed through. Beautiful AND deadly!
Grim looked up at his father, excitement clear on his face. "This is incredible."
Rowan nodded. "Continue. There's more."
Returning to the scroll, Grim read on.
Silver Crescent Sword Dao – Now this is where I really showed my genius. Most idiots don't understand light affinity or light energy, for that matter. I discovered that anything that produces light can be harvested and used. So I applied that concept to moonlight, creating a sword art that baffled everyone. No one ever understood it, let alone copied or imitated it. I was the only one to ever master this style, but with your light affinity, you might just have a shot.
Thunder Clap Sword Dao – My final creation and, arguably, my most destructive. The basis is using light to channel lightning into sword arts. Yes, LIGHTNING. Light travels alongside lightning in nature, so why not in combat? This technique requires tremendous control and at least four fully developed mana hearts, so don't rush into it unless you want to fry yourself from the inside out.
"Lightning?" Grim whispered, his mind racing with possibilities. "Is that even possible?"
[Theoretically,] the voice answered, sounding genuinely intrigued. [Light and electrical energy are related phenomena in nature. With sufficient control and power...]
"This is fucking amazing," Grim thought back.
As he continued reading, Caius's tone became more serious:
Now for the part you're not going to like. These techniques come with a price. The Ambrose Clan's powers were so strong that the Demon King Malaxis could feel when our power was released. But the feeling goes both ways. Learning these techniques means you're on your way to becoming the strongest cultivator alive, but it also paints a target on your back. Once you reach a certain point, you'll feel when the next Demon Lord relates their power.
When I fought Malaxis, I thought I'd killed the bastard. But in his final moments, I felt something... transfer from him. A sliver of darkness that disappeared before I could track it. I've spent decades searching for it, for any sign of his lingering presence, but found nothing concrete.
Yet as I lay dying, I had a vision—a glimpse of orchestrated events, a plan set in motion to ensure the downfall of our family after my death. The light affinity didn't fade from our line by chance. Something or someone made it happen.
Grim felt a chill run down his spine. He looked up at his father, who was watching him intently.
"Did you know about this part?" Grim asked.
"Only that there was a warning," Rowan replied. "The scroll wouldn't open for me."
Grim returned to reading, his excitement now tempered by an uneasy feeling.
I don't know who or what is responsible. I only know that you, the one reading this, are our family's chance at restoration. Learn these techniques. Master them. But don't stop there. Build upon them, create your own styles, and spread your seed far and wide to reinvigorate our line.
The scrolls in this chest contain detailed instructions for all four sword arts, along with my personal notes and observations. Start with Sunfire and Aurora Flash. Only attempt Silver Crescent after you've formed at least two mana hearts and leave Thunder Clap until you have four or more.
Remember: you're an Ambrose. Act like it. Confidence, power, and a healthy appreciation for the finer things in life—that's our way. None of that brooding, serious nonsense some of our line adopt. Looking at you, grandson, if you're still alive when this is read!
Grim couldn't help but glance at his father, who raised an eyebrow in response.
One last thing: trust no one completely outside our blood. The enemy that targeted our family could be anyone, even those closest to the throne.
Caius Ambrose, Greatest Swordsman Who Ever Lived, Slayer of Malaxis, Favorite of the Ladies, etc., etc.
P.S. If you're a girl reading this, all that "spread your seed" stuff still applies. Just find strong men with good bloodlines. And if you're a boy, aim for women with rare affinities. Diversity strengthens the line!
Grim rolled the scroll closed, his mind spinning with everything he'd just read. The four sword arts alone would take years to master, but the warning about some unknown enemy targeting his family—that was something else entirely.
"So," Rowan said after a moment of silence. "Now you know."
"The future of our clan rests on my shoulders," Grim said, trying to sound casual despite the weight he suddenly felt. "No big deal."
"It's not just about learning techniques," Rowan said, kneeling to meet Grim's eyes. "It's about restoring what we once were. The Ambrose family stood as a pillar of the empire for hundreds of years. We were its sword and shield against darkness."
"And now we're just you and me," Grim said quietly.
Rowan nodded. "You and me."
The door to the chamber suddenly opened, and both Ambroses turned in surprise. The Empress stood in the doorway, her white and gold dress seeming to glow in the crystal light.
"I see you've finally begun learning your destiny, young Grim," she said, her eyes falling on the scroll in his hands.
Grim gave his father a questioning look.
"Her Majesty insisted on being informed when you received your great-grandfather's message," Rowan explained, standing and bowing deeply.
"The Ambrose legacy is of great importance to the empire," the Empress said, entering the room fully. "Perhaps now more than ever."
[Interesting timing,] the voice noted. [Almost as if she was waiting for this moment.]
"Or she just has spies everywhere," Grim thought back. "She's the Empress."
[Still... Caius did warn about trusting those close to the throne.]
The Empress approached Grim. Looking down at Grim with a smile. "I understand Caius left quite a legacy for you to live up to, young lord."
Before Grim could answer, Rowan spoke. "He's only five, Your Majesty. The training will take years."
"Years we may not have," the Empress replied, her smile fading. "But we will make do with the time we're given."
She turned back to look at Grim. "Tell me, Grim, what do you think of your great-grandfather's teachings?"
Grim paused for a second before answering. "They seem... impressive. And challenging."
"Indeed they are. Caius Ambrose was the greatest swordsman the empire has ever seen. His powers were unmatched." She looked at the open chest. "Those scrolls contain techniques that could change everything. Being abke to use thise techniques, would put you in the category of the strongest."
"Which is why they must be learned properly, with patience and discipline," Rowan said.
The Empress's looked like she was irritated. Before her serene expression returned. "Of course, Lord Ambrose. I would never suggest rushing the boy's training. I merely emphasize the importance of what he's undertaking."
She reached out and placed a hand on Grim's shoulder, the weight of it feeling strangely ominous despite her gentle touch. "Great things are expected of you, Grim van Ambrose. I have faith you will not disappoint."
With that, she swept from the room as suddenly as she had appeared, leaving Grim and Rowan alone with the legacy of Caius Ambrose and the weight of expectations that came with it.
[Well,] the voice commented dryly, [no pressure or anything.]
"Shut up," Grim thought wearily.