Age: 7 Years Old (Cain is missing).Location: The Royal Capital, Lumina.
The Royal Capital of Helios, Lumina, was a city of white marble and gold. It was beautiful. Huge spires pierced the clouds. Gryphon Knights patrolled the blue skies. The streets were paved with clean stone, and Mana Lamps illuminated every corner, banishing the darkness.
To the common people, it looked like paradise. To Baron Arthur Valerius, it looked like a mouth full of golden teeth waiting to bite him.
Our carriage battered, muddy, and missing a door from the ambush rolled through the pristine main gates. The contrast was sharp. We looked like beggars entering a ballroom. The citizens stopped and whispered. "Is that the Valerius carriage?" "Look at the damage... the rumors were true." "They say the son died. The Trash Boy." "Serves them right. A cursed family."
Inside the carriage, Sarah wept silently, clutching Cain’s empty seat. Elena sat frozen. She wasn't crying anymore. She was holding Cain’s piece of dried viper jerky that he had left behind. Her small hands gripped it so tight her knuckles were white.
Arthur sat opposite them. He was cleaned up. He wore a fresh noble coat. His face was shaved. But his eyes were different. The warmth was gone. The hesitation was gone. He looked out at the shining city with the cold, predatory gaze of a man scouting a battlefield.
‘Cain was right,’ Arthur thought, touching the hilt of his sword. ‘This city is not a home. It is a dungeon with better decorations.’
The Throne Room.
An hour later, we stood before the Sun Throne.
The room was massive. Chandeliers made of mana crystals hung from the ceiling. The floor was polished obsidian. Sitting on the throne was King Roland de Helios. He looked old. Tired. He slumped in his seat, a man crushed by the weight of his crown. When he saw Arthur, his eyes lit up with a flicker of friendship, but he quickly hid it. Standing next to him was Queen Isabella. She was breathtaking. Golden hair, piercing green eyes, and an aura of absolute authority. Publicly, she was known as a Rank High Mage. For her rank nobody know. But looking at her, Arthur felt a chill that had nothing to do with the weather. The air around her didn't just hum; it bent. Her mana density was far too high for a mere High Mage. She looked at Arthur not with disgust, but with the cold, calculating eyes of a scientist .
And standing to the side, smirking, was Count Draven. The man who owned the territory next to the Canyon. The man who hired the mercenaries. He was dressed in red velvet, holding a glass of wine.
"Baron Arthur," Queen Isabella spoke first. Her voice was like a frozen bell. "You are late. And you look... disheveled."
Arthur bowed. It was a perfect, mechanical bow. "My apologies, Your Majesty. We encountered... difficulties on the road."
"Ah, yes," Count Draven stepped forward, his voice dripping with fake sympathy. "I heard the tragic news. Bandits, was it? In my territory? How dreadful." He took a sip of wine. "And I heard your son... the mute boy... was lost? Eaten by wolves, perhaps?"
Sarah flinched. King Roland looked down, ashamed.
Draven continued, smiling cruelly. "Well, perhaps it is for the best. The boy had no future. A mana cripple would only struggle in the Capital. The Gods showed him mercy by taking him early."
The court nobles chuckled softly. They all knew Cain was "Trash." To them, his death was just cleaning up the bloodline.
Arthur slowly straightened his back. He turned to Draven. He didn't shout. He didn't cry. He looked Draven in the eye.
"Count Draven," Arthur said softly.
"Yes?" Draven smirked.
ZOOM.
For a split second, the air in the throne room vanished. Arthur didn't draw his sword. He didn't need to. He released a concentrated needle of Sword Intent. It wasn't the wide, uncontrolled aura of a novice. It was a razor-thin line of pure killing intent, aimed directly at Draven’s throat.
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Crack. The wine glass in Draven’s hand shattered. Red wine spilled over his expensive velvet suit like blood.
Draven choked. He stumbled back, clutching his throat, his eyes bulging. For a second, he felt a cold steel blade against his skin, even though Arthur was five meters away.
The Royal Guards (Rank 4) stiffened, hands flying to their weapons. They felt it. A monster had just woken up in the room.
"My son," Arthur whispered, his voice echoing in the silent hall, "fought with more honor in his last moments than you have shown in your entire life."
Arthur took one step forward. "Speak his name with disrespect again... and I will cut you down before your heart beats twice. King or no King."
Silence. Absolute, terrified silence.
Queen Isabella’s eyes narrowed. She had expected a broken man. A weeping father. Instead, she saw a wolf. ‘He has changed,’ she analyzed, her magical senses tingling. ‘His mana is still clogged... but his Spirit... it has transcended.’
King Roland cleared his throat, breaking the tension. "Enough," the King said, his voice firm. "Arthur, we mourn your loss. The Kingdom will investigate these bandits. But... we must discuss why you are here."
The doors opened. A tall man in white robes entered. He carried a golden staff topped with a sun symbol. Bishop Ignis of the Holy Theocracy of Sancta.
He didn't look at Arthur. He walked straight to Elena. He looked at the five-year-old girl like a merchant inspecting a horse. "So," the Bishop smiled, revealing perfect white teeth. "This is the vessel."
He reached out and touched Elena’s forehead. Elena flinched, but she didn't pull away. She remembered Cain’s words. ‘Fear makes you prey.’ She stared at the Bishop with defiant blue eyes.
"Excellent," Bishop Ignis nodded. "High Holy Affinity. She will make a fine Saintess."
He turned to the King. "The Holy Theocracy of Sancta is pleased. However, taking her to the Holy City now would be... inefficient. She is too young."
"We agree," King Roland said quickly. He didn't want to lose his kingdom's greatest asset to a foreign nation. "She should remain here, in Helios."
"Of course," the Bishop smiled, pulling out a scroll. "We have prepared a Lease Contract."
"Lease?" Arthur interrupted, his voice cold. "My daughter is not cattle."
The Bishop ignored him. "The Holy Theocracy will send a High Tutor to the Capital. We will train her. We will provide resources. In exchange, the Kingdom of Helios will pay a monthly tithe to the Church, and the Church retains the rights to her 'Miracles' for the next ten years."
It was a business deal. Elena wasn't a person to them. She was a battery. A political tool to bind two nations together.
King Roland looked at the contract. It was expensive. But keeping a Saintess was worth it. "We accept," the King said.
The Bishop turned to Elena. "Child. From today, you belong to God. You will live in the Royal Palace's West Wing. You will study from dawn until dusk. You will forget your past."
Elena looked at her father. She looked at her mother. She wanted to cry. She wanted to run. But she felt the piece of dried snake meat in her pocket. ‘Nii-ni didn't run,’ she thought. ‘Nii-ni jumped into hell to save us.’
Elena took a deep breath. She stepped forward. She didn't curtsy. She nodded. "I understand," Elena said, her voice shaking but clear. "I will become strong."
‘So I can find him,’ she promised silently.
The Aftermath.
That night, Arthur and Sarah moved into their allocated townhouse in the noble district. It was luxurious, but empty. Sarah went to sleep early, exhausted by grief.
Arthur sat in his study. The window was open, overlooking the glittering capital. He placed his sword on the desk. Next to it, he placed the Golden Family Crest the one he had recovered from the forest. The only thing Cain had left behind.
He poured himself a drink. He didn't drink to forget. He drank to sharpen his mind.
He unrolled a massive map of the continent onto his desk. "If I am to survive this viper's nest," Arthur muttered, his finger tracing the borders, "I need to know the board."
He looked at the map, analyzing the powers that surrounded them.
- To the South: The Holy Theocracy of Sancta.
- "White cities, strict laws, and the Pope." They were the ones who held Elena's leash. They specialized in Holy Magic and hunting 'Heretics.' If Cain ever returned with his strange powers, they would be his first enemy.
- To the North: The Kaizer Empire.
- "The Iron Nation." A militaristic empire of machines and Magitech. They were rivals to Helios. Cold, industrial, and ruthless.
- To the Far East: The Kingdom of Dawn.
- Across the Jade Ocean. A mysterious land of spirits and talismans. Arthur touched the map. Cain’s black hair and eyes... he looked like them. Perhaps the boy’s destiny lay there?
- The Non-Human Lands:
- Ironhold (Dwarves) in the mountains. Sylvenia (Elves) in the forests. Wildfangs (Beastkin) in the jungle. They were all powerful, arrogant, and dangerous.
- And in the Center: The Neutral Zone.
- Arthur’s finger stopped on a single dot between the three great human empires.
- The Genesis Academy.
- The only place where status didn't matter. Where Royals, Elves, and Beastkin gathered to prove their strength.
"The Academy," Arthur whispered. If Cain was alive... if his son truly possessed the monster's spirit Arthur saw in the forest... he wouldn't stay in the swamp forever. He would go where the power is.
Arthur picked up a knife. He stabbed it into the map, right over Count Draven’s estate.
"I will hold the line here in the Capital," Arthur vowed, his eyes glittering in the candlelight. "I will build a fortress of political power. And when you return, my son... we will burn them all."