Chapter 3 – "Blood Has No Mercy"
Hours had passed since Ren Aldritch awoke in his new body. He sat calmly in a large wooden chair beside a tall window that overlooked a stone garden. The sky was gray, the rain looming, and the dim light barely touched his face.
Despite the body's young age—just seven years old—he didn't feel weak or innocent. Within him resided a soul far older… a soul forged in blood, darkness, and control.
"Ren Aldritch…" he whispered to himself, tasting the name like a killer analyzing his next weapon.
He didn't need to pretend to be a child. On the contrary, this identity felt far more natural than anything he had before.
A soft knock at the door pulled him from his thoughts.
"Young master, it's time for dinner."
The voice was calm and steady, belonging to a man of discipline.
Alfred, the head servant, entered. A tall man in his late sixties, dressed in a refined uniform, glasses glinting over sharp eyes that missed nothing.
Ren studied his face for a brief moment, then rose without a word, silently following behind.
The hallway leading to the main dining room was long, paved with black and gold marble. Arrogant family portraits stared down from the walls, their lifeless eyes watching every step.
The main doors opened.
The dining hall was vast, its ceiling high, dominated by a crystal chandelier that hung like a frozen star. In the center stood a long banquet table draped in dark crimson cloth.
At the head of the table sat Duke Malphus Aldritch.
A man who showed no signs of age, with snow-white hair and blood-red eyes. His presence wasn't loud—it was suffocating.
To his right sat a young woman in her early twenties.
Long black hair shimmered in the chandelier's glow, and her violet eyes were calm yet piercing. She bore the features of a woman Ren had seen in an old portrait earlier—his late mother.
This was his older sister, Liana Aldritch, a graduate of the Imperial Academy and now a commanding officer stationed with the family's army at the northern border.
When Ren entered, both turned their eyes to him.
Liana smiled first. "Welcome, Ren."
He took his seat quietly, eyes steady, not returning the smile.
The meal began in silence. But after a few minutes, Malphus's deep voice broke through the tension.
"You are seven now. That means it's time for you to begin your training.
Starting tomorrow, the commander of our magical knights will oversee your development."
Liana abruptly stopped eating and looked sharply at her father.
"Father, he's far too young. You can't force training on him already!"
Her voice was firm as she placed her fork down.
Malphus turned to her and met her eyes—he didn't speak.
But he didn't need to. That one look was enough to silence her completely.
Ren, on the other hand, remained expressionless. No surprise. No protest. Not even a question.
He spoke softly, but his voice was unnaturally cold for a child.
"Understood."
Liana's fork dropped slightly in surprise. Malphus raised one eyebrow.
He hadn't expected that. Not such calm. Not such… acceptance.
"Hm…" Malphus muttered, leaning back slightly.
The minutes that followed were filled with heavy silence.
But in Ren's eyes, there was something else—something not born of childhood nor of noble blood.
It was the quiet gleam of something carved into him by pain and fire.
The will to dominate.