《The Glitched Mage》


 Chapter 1 - 1: Betrayal

    Riven had always loved stories about magic. In the rare, quiet moments when his hands weren''t blistered from scrubbing dishes or hauling sacks of grain, he would lose himself in tales of powerful mages who bent the elements to their will, rising from nothing to shape kingdoms, beloved and coveted by all.


    But they were just stories.


    Reality was much crueler.


    Riven had just finished closing up his family''s bakery after preparing the dough for tomorrow morning. He had let his tired, overworked parents turn in for the night, promising that he could clean up and close everything.


    It was then, when three loud knocks came thundering from the locked wooden door, that Riven knew something was wrong. He didn''t even have time to unlock the series of locks before a loud splintering sound filled the empty storefront and the door swung open with a bang.


    "Knock, knock." A deep, throaty laugh rumbled from the doorway as a group of around ten men filtered over the threshold, filling up the room.


    "W-what''s going on?" Riven stumbled back against the counter, a feeling of doom spreading from his stomach as he took in the rough, recognizable appearance of the gang now standing in his family''s bakery. "Why are you here today? Payment isn''t due till the end of the month!"


    He and his family lived in the countryside, in a small farming town that consisted of a rundown supermarket, a restaurant, a bar, and his family''s bakery. Over the years, farming became less popular in the area, and people began to move to bigger cities. The bakery''s income had dropped steadily until, over the past year, his father had borrowed money to pay the land rent and continue tuition for Riven''s sister, who had left for university.


    But despite the struggles they faced, they had kept up with the payments.


    So why¡­


    "Bastard, you think I''d be here without a reason?!" The leader of the gang spat as he shoved a calloused finger against Riven''s chest, causing him to gulp. This group of thugs was a local drug gang operating in nearby towns and villages. Riven had warned his father not to borrow money from them, but, faced with rejection from the banks, his father had no choice.


    "Then why are you here?" Riven asked quietly as he scanned the room, desperately plotting any sort of escape route. There were none.


    "Wow, you really don''t know, do you?" The leader chuckled, the motion crinkling the scar running over his left eye. "You''re four months late."


    The world seemed to freeze as the words settled in Riven''s ears.


    "No¡­ that''s not right. No." He shook his head, acid rising in his throat. A swift smack to the back of his head sent him stumbling.


    "Bastard! I give your family the mercy of three months without paying, and this is how I''m treated?" The leader lifted his hand again, his palm connecting with the side of Riven''s face.


    "No." Riven clutched his throbbing cheek. "Please, let me get my parents. There must be a mix-up."


    The leader watched Riven for a moment before erupting into laughter, his goons joining in after a moment. The sound sent goosebumps rippling over Riven''s skin.


    "Oh, I kind of feel bad for you, kid." The leader finally stopped laughing and wiped away a tear. "I had shitty parents growing up too. I think yours might be worse, though."


    "What¡ª" Riven began to protest, but the leader held up a finger to silence him. He pulled out his phone and pressed something.


    A voice recording began to play.


    "You''re on the last month of my mercy, Jacob," the gang leader''s voice crackled through the phone. "I''ve told you what happens when you can''t pay after the third month, haven''t I?"


    "Yes, sir, I remember." Riven''s breath hitched as he recognised his father''s voice. "I''ve been trying hard to save, but no one is buying from us."


    "Is that so?" The gang leader''s soft chuckle sounded before he sighed. "Then how were you able to rack up a bill of five grand at Cullen''s Casino?"


    Riven stopped breathing.


    "I did not¡­" His father began to deny the accusation, but the rustle of papers¡ªproof, perhaps¡ªsounded through the phone. "It was a mistake. I went out with a few friends and lost myself in gambling. But it was only one time! I didn''t mean to spend so much!"


    "You motherfucking liar!" A smack sounded through the phone, and his father grunted. "I have proof right here that you visited the casino every goddamned weekend, spending the money you owe me! Do you take me for a joke?!" Another thud sounded, followed by his father''s cry, and Riven''s legs began to buckle.


    Every weekend? But his father delivered bread to a town over every Saturday¡­ did he lie? The voice on the phone was unmistakably his father''s.


    "I''m sorry! I''m sorry!" His father''s cry rattled through the phone as the thuds continued to sound. "Please! I''ll pay you back! I''ll do anything!"


    Riven remembered something from his childhood¡ªcountless arguments between his mother and father about his drinking and gambling. He thought his father had stopped by the time Riven was a teenager. But¡­


    He was wrong. His father had never changed.


    So what the hell had Riven been working so hard for? He had dropped out of high school when his parents began to worry about not making enough money. He worked seven days a week, year-round, without pay to lessen the burden on his parents. He even urged his sister to continue her education, giving up any future of his own so his family could survive.


    He sacrificed himself so they wouldn''t suffer.


    But his father had deceived him. Instead of lessening the weight of debt, he was pissing away their earnings on booze and gambling.


    So everything Riven had done these past five years¡­ what the hell had he been working so hard for?


    "You have three options," the leader''s voice continued through the phone. "I sell your wife and daughter to the brothel one town over. The payment will settle half of your debt, and I''ll even give you half a year off paying to help you get back on your feet."


    "What?! I would never agree to that!" His father''s yell made Riven flinch.


    "Second option, I take over your bakery completely and kick you and your family out on the streets," the gang leader continued. "I''ll use it as a money-laundering operation, but your name will still be listed as the owner. I''d only let you live because I''d need you to keep signing all documents relating to the bakery."


    "No, you can''t! That bakery has been in my family for generations! Please, if you take that away from us, we won''t be able to make a living."


    "Option three: we take your son''s organs," the leader said, his words making Riven shiver. "There''s a rise in the market for organs¡ªespecially from young, healthy men. If you go with this option, I''ll give you a year off from our monthly payments."


    Riven closed his eyes and sighed. His head was a mess with everything that was happening, but he needed to focus. The only option left was for them to give the bakery to the gang. It would be tough for him and his parents, but perhaps they could stay with his sister in the city in the meantime. He could get a job somewhere, and maybe¡ª


    "Option three." His father''s voice answered quietly through the phone, and Riven''s eyes snapped open. "Do you promise you''ll give us a year off from payment if I choose the third option?"


    Riven''s legs finally gave out, and he collapsed onto the cold wooden floor, his mouth agape as he stared at the now-sneering gang leader. The leader slipped the phone back into his pocket and crouched down in front of him. Sear?h the Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "I kind of feel bad for you, kid," the gang leader sighed, scratching the side of his shaven head. "I don''t mean to rub salt in the wound, but your father didn''t even bat an eyelash when he signed away your life."


    Huh? No¡­


    No way. Not after everything Riven had done. He had been such a good son. He had done everything anyone ever asked of him. So why¡­


    "Please." Riven''s voice was barely a whisper as he tried to pull himself up. "Let me talk to my parents."


    "No can do, kiddo. The buyer''s waiting. Your father already drugged your food earlier, so you should be starting to feel it right about now." The gang leader smiled, tilting his head as if studying him.


    Riven was about to speak, but, like some sick twist of fate, a wave of dizziness rolled over him. He stumbled, clutching his head, a bitter, humorless laugh ripping from his throat.


    It was all true.


    He had spent his life trying to please and help others, only to be stabbed in the back by the one who was supposed to protect him.


    He tried to take a step toward the door, but his legs went numb, and he fell¡ªcaught just before hitting the floor by one of the gang members.


    "It''s alright, kid. Don''t fight it. Just sleep." The gang leader''s voice became faint in Riven''s ears.


    Riven felt numb and broken as the darkness began to surround his mind. If only he had chosen to do something else with his life. If only¡­ if only his life was like one of the novels he loved to read in his spare time. In those stories, he could have been like the main character¡ªloved and feared by all, overcoming every obstacle with sheer strength and determination.


    He didn''t want his life to end like this.


    If only¡­ he had another chance.

 Chapter 2 - 2: The Void

    Floating¡­ or falling. At this point, Riven couldn''t really tell if he was doing both, or neither.


    All that he knew was that it was comfortable and quiet.


    How long had he been here in this overwhelming darkness? Days? Months? Years? It seemed as if the void around him had no beginning or end, just an endless abyss.


    "Atleast here in the darkness I''m away from those who hurt me." Riven thought to himself.


    The thoughts and memories in his head of that fateful night first filled him with sadness and betrayal, but as time moved on those thoughts turned to anger and fury.


    He began to remember times when he was the one who had to sacrifice things he wanted for the sake of the family. Like one time when he was growing up, he had saved all of his pocket money up so he could go to a summer camp with his friends, but in the end his sister needed money to keep her piano lessons going so he was forced into putting his money towards it.


    But of course he was told it was because he was such a kind a caring big brother and that if he didn''t do it he would be selfish and ungrateful.


    Now that he thought about it, he can''t remember a time when he had ever bought something for himself. The books he loved to read were always borrowed from the library, all of his clothes were hand me downs from his father. Even at birthdays and christmases he was always given gifts relating to the bakery like a new mixer, or new work shoes.


    He also remembered his 10th birthday when he had asked all year round for a bike so he could play out with his friends but instead he was gifted a colouring book. His parents explained to him that they were really struggling this year and that they couldn''t afford to get him a bike. Riven understood that and never once blamed his parents for not being able to afford things for him, but it was the fact that that year at Christmas, they had bought his sister a brand new bike.


    "She''s younger than you and is a lot weaker. She needs a bike so she can excersize. You understand, right?"


    "Your sister never complains when we give you presents, does she? You''re acting selfish again."


    But that wasn''t even the worst time.


    Another time was when he was planning to go onto college to study graphics design - he even received a full scholarship for it. But because his sister wanted to go to a medical college, he was expected to stay at home and help at the bakery.


    "Your sister is going to become a doctor and start bringing money into this family - you won''t earn money learning how to draw!" His father would tell him.


    "We''ve made so many sacrifices for you - why can''t you do this for us?" His mother would say.


    All of those times when he gave up what he wanted to do or buy just because his family would tell him to. At the time he would think that it was him who made the choice to do these things - that it was because he loved his family and that it was what he needed to do. But now when he looked back, he realised how they manipulated him and used his love for them against him.


    He gave them his everything and they threw him away.


    If he could go back and do it all again he wouldnt care about family or friends, he would just focus on himself. He would do whatever he wanted, buy whatever he wanted - he would live for himself and no one else. He wouldn''t suffer again¡­ he would never trust again.


    The darkness began to tremble around him as he recalled his hurtful past. It reached out to him like some monstrous claw, running across him skin and seemed to seep into his body, feeding his intense emotions. sea??h th§× n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    He realised that he wasn''t sad anymore. He was pissed.


    Actually, he was beyond pissed. The rage he felt was so primal and raw that it ravaged through his body like a wild beast.


    He wanted revenge. He wanted to be selfish and do whatever the hell he wanted to. He wanted another chance at life and this time actually live it to its fullest!


    If only he had another chance¡­


    Suddenly, a flicker of light in the void.


    [[ All conditions met¡­ ]]


    [[ System Awakening¡­ ]]


    [[ Welcome Riven. ]]


    Riven blinked and squinted against the flickering digital lights of the floating screen in front of him.


    [[ Congratulations! You have absorbed some mana!


    Mana type: Dark (1%) ]]


    [[ Congratulations! You have absorbed your first mana! ]]


    [[ Awakening mana heart¡­ ]]


    Riven flinched against the onslaught of digital screens that kept popping up in front of him. He tried to raise a hand to swipe at the screen but he froze when he noticed that his limb had now turned grey and translucent.


    [[ Error. Mana Heart Awakening failed. Trying again¡­]]


    A sudden red light filling his vision snapped him out of his shock. What the hell was this screen doing? It reminded him of the time he was allowed to go to a friends house and he was able to play digital games for the first time. The notification screen he was looking at right now reminded him of the ones he saw then.


    [[ Error. Mana Heart Awakening failed. Trying again¡­ ]]


    A small digital alarm began to ring with the various red alerts that kept popping up and Riven began to panic again. He looked around him, trying to remember where he was and what was happening again.


    Oh¡­ that''s right.


    He was dead.


    [[ Error. Mana Heart Awakening failed. Trying again¡­]]


    The memories of what happened in the bakery came flooding back to him, making his floating, translucent body begin tremble. Rage and fury began to build inside of him again, so pure and powerful that the digital screen in front of him began to flicker.


    The darkness around continued to slide across his skin, caressing and flooding his senses and it began to gather in front of his chest.


    [[ Congratulations! You have absorbed some mana!


    Mana Type: Dark (2%) ]]


    [[ Awakening Mana Heart¡­]]


    [[Error. Error. Mana Heart Awakening failed. Trying again¡­]]


    Riven seethed, revelling in the fury that filled his body, seeming as if it was the very blood pumping through his spectral body. He opened his mouth and yelled into the darkness, letting out every emotion he had had growing up until now.


    [[Congratulations! You have absorbed some mana!


    Mana Type: Dark (9%)]]


    [[Error. Error. Mana Heart Awakening failed.]]


    [[Trying again¡­]]


    As Riven began absorbing the darkness around him, the flurry of red warning screens kept filling up the space in front of him.


    The Dark mana was becoming one with the fury inside of him, filling him to the point where he thought he might explode. But he didn''t care.


    [[ERROR. ERROR. ERROR.]]


    [[Mana overload without a mana heart. System failed. System failed. System failed.]]


    The digital screens in front of him began to crack and tremble, spilling bright red light across whatever void he was currently floating in.


    As his spectral body began to tear and fade into the darkness around him, he began to lose consciousness. His vision blurred and he revelled in the way it felt to be taken by such pure darkness.


    Suddenly, the torrent of screens disappeared, leaving one single bright blue screen in front of him.


    Riven tried to focus against the dark mana flooding around him, barely making out the letters on the screen.


    [[System administrator override. The administrator admires your perseverance. Rewarding¡­]]


    [[Congratulations! You have received a gift from the administrator!


    Reward: Abyss Mana Heart. Rank: ???]]


    Just as Riven was about to be completely absorbed into the darkness, a sudden stabbing pain radiated from his chest. He screamed as he felt flesh tearing and bones breaking.


    As the pain began to subside, a sudden heat began to build¡­ and build¡­ and build until it felt as if someone had poured molten lava into the cavity in his chest.


    Then it began.


    The darkness that had been absorbing him into the void stopped and began to move backwards. It began to be sucked into his chest at an alarming rate, swirling in a small tornado shape in front of him, feeding the heat inside him until it was unbearable.


    [[Congratulations! You are now absorbing mana into your mana heart!


    Mana Type: Dark (20%)]]


    [[Mana Heart: Abyss Mana Heart. (+0 circles)]]


    [[Congratulations! You are now¡­]]


    The torrent of blue screens began to fill the background behind the dark tornado that was funnelling into his chest and Riven began to lose consciousness again. Exhausted, overwhelmed and tired.


    So, so tired.


    He closed his eyes and gave himself into whatever was happening.


    He could have sworn as he drifted out of consciousness, a dark rumble of a laughter echoed through the void around him.

 Chapter 3 - 3: Reincarnated

    "Still asleep at this time? Useless as always." A nasally female voice irritated Rivens ears and he cringed as a bright light suddenly filled his closed eyes.


    "What¡­" he grumbled as he blinked against the brightness. A sudden cold and wet sensation on his face had him bolting upwards in a sitting position.


    "Clean yourself off and then come down for breakfast." The nasally voice continued as she slammed down a basin of water beside him. "The count has ordered all family members to join him for breakfast. Unfortunately, that means you too." The woman sneered and left the room.


    Riven picked the cold, damp cloth off his face and blinked as he took in the grand bedroom he was currently in. High arched ceilings, golden embroidered panelling on the walls and fancy decor was scattered everywhere.


    But something was off.


    A fine layer of dirt seemed to cover every surface. Parts of furniture was splintered or outright broken, various stains littered the solid hardwood floor and the bedsheets were thin and disgusting.


    Where¡­ where the hell was he?


    [[Welcome player Riven! You have met the requirements and have been reincarnated into a world full of magic and wonder!


    Here, mana is in abundance and you have been given a system that allows you to harvest this mana and build your strength!


    Do you have what it takes to become the world''s most powerful mage? ]]


    "What? Mage?" Riven muttered as he chucked the cold cloth into basin. "It''s just like one of the novels I read before."


    [[You have reincarnated into the son of a Count, Riven Drakar!


    Do you wish to download his memories?


    (Yes/No)]] Sear?h the N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Riven gulped as he read the words in the game-like screen. This really was like one of those reincarnation novels he used to read whenever he had spare time. Was this really happening? Was he perhaps dreaming?


    Rivens hands clenched into fists as he recalled what happened in the bakery.


    He had died. Betrayed by his father and sold to those thugs without a second thought about being cut open and sold like a pig in a butcher shop.


    "I accept." He grunted, his voice hoarse as he spoke to the notification. The ''yes'' button lit up and what felt like a strike of lightning splintered his mind.


    Riven grasped his head and cried as an onslaught of memories filtered through his mind. The owner of this body was also named Riven and took on the same appearance that he did in his previous life. He was the illegitimate son of Count Drakar, a drunken mistake the Count had made with one of the maids in the manor. The count had only begrudgingly accepted Riven into the family because in the empire where they lived, blood relations were extremely important because it meant that the family''s mana element could be passed down.


    But Riven seemed to be also unlucky in this aspect because this body was born without the ability to absorb mana and form a mana heart.


    The count placed power above all else and saw that his illegitimate son would be useless to him so he was sent to the furthest bedroom in the manor and was forbidden to show himself in public or in front of the family without being called for first.


    And so, Riven was subjected to abuse by his elder siblings and even the servants of the Counts household. He had been starved, beaten and belittled nearly every day of his life and eventually took an overdose of herbs he stole from the medical room in the manor.


    Information continued to filter through his brain, this time it was related to the world.


    He was in the Solis Empire, the biggest empire in all four continents and one where magic power was placed above all else. He learned that humans were able to absorb mana from their environments and form something called a mana heart, a separate organ that sat across from the heart that stored mana. The more mana the person accumulated, they could then refine the mana and form something called ''mana circles'' around the mana heart that resulted in the magical power being doubled.


    Ofcourse, not just anyone could form a mana heart and accumulate mana. It all came down to talent, knowledge and typically the stronger the bloodline, the stronger your chances of success were.


    Also, money provided even more chances for advancement. Medicines and magical items greatly enhances your power and abilities and can be made from various magical herbs and ingredients or can be found in dungeons.


    "Ugh." Rivens stomach lurched with the seemingly endless information.


    [[Information complete. This body has been hidden from the outside, so its knowledge of mana is limited. It is now up to you, Riven Drakar, to go forth and prove yourself.]]


    [[Welcome to the Solis Empire!]]


    The screen flickered and then disappeared as if it had never been there in the first place.


    Riven closed his eyes and searched for something, something that shouldn''t be there. He placed his palm on the right side of his bony chest and concentrated.


    Ba-dump. Ba-dump. Ba-dump.


    Rivens eyes flew open and the hand that had been on his chest was now covering his gaping mouth.


    "Holy shit¡­" He half chuckled, half cried. "A heart beat." He could feel it in his chest, the left side where his normal heart sat pumping weakly, and the right side where his new mana heart lay, pumping so strongly he could almost feel it against his ribs.


    "So it wasn''t a dream." Riven tried to recall the moments of being in the void. He remembered darkness and some sort of error occurring, and then a heat in his chest. He remembered it being so painful and unbearable but at the end, he recalled the window had told him there had been some sort of override.


    "It''s like there was a glitch in whatever system this is." Riven grumbled to himself, a smile stretching across as he listening to rhythmic heartbeats.


    "You''re still not up and ready?" The nasally servant from before came charging in and startled Riven. She was middle aged with greying hair and wore a black and white maid outfit that he had only seen in manga. "You''re going to be late which will get us all in trouble!" She grabbed Riven by the arm and began to pull him from bed.


    She lifted the freezing wet cloth and began to harsh scrub at his thin arms and anger swept through him like a wave.


    He didn''t even hesitate as he brought his hand back and swiftly brought down upon the maids face, a harsh smack sound echoed through the room.


    The maid stumbled back, crying as she clutched her face. In the memories he just received, this maid had been the worst out of all the servants. She had tortured Riven since he''d been a child, stealing whatever allowance he had been given, giving rotten food, never cleaning him or taking him to get medical care whenever he was sick.


    She was cruel to the bone, not an ounce of humanity.


    "What¡­" the maid, Candace was her name, looked up at him with wide eyes. "What the hell do you think you''re doing?!"


    Riven got off the bed to stand in front of her, his normally soft blue eyes turning dark and cold as he spoke, "Who am I?"


    "What the hell are you asking?!" The maid yelled and Riven lifted his hand and once more brought down against the side of the maids face, her head snapping to the side with the force.


    "Who. Am. I." He asked again, his voice soft but full of a quiet wrath.


    "You¡­ you are Riven Drakar." The maid choked out, tears streaming down her face.


    "And who are you?" Riven asked, taking one step closer.


    "I¡­ I am a maid." She whimpered as she scurried backwards.


    "So who are you, a maid, to treat your young master this way?" He crouched down and cocked his head to the the side as he asked. "Is this how you should treat the one whom you serve?"


    "No¡­ no, I was ordered to do this!" The maid cried and a humourless chuckle escaped Rivens lips.


    He suddenly grabbed Candace around her neck applying pressure as he pulled her face closer to his. He felt his mana heart thumping furiously as if begging to be used but he wasn''t sure how to handle it yet.


    "Because we have shared so many touching moments together I''m willing to forgive you this once." He said each word carefully as she gasped for air. "If you don''t treat me with the respect I deserve from now on¡­ well, I don''t think it''s hard to understand what will happen." He applied a bit more pressure and the maids eyes became bloodshot as she fought against him.


    He shoved her backwards and stalked towards the dust covered mirror to the corner of the room.


    "If you understand, then get out." He ordered. "Bring me warm water and something clean to wear."


    Candace scampered from the room and Riven tilted his head back with a sigh. He learned from his past life that being nice to everyone was going to get him nowhere. Power and wealth was what everyone valued in the end, especially in this world.


    He smeared the dust from the mirror and met the gaze of his determined dark eyes.


    He was not going to live his new life being a pushover like in his previous life. He was going to become the most powerful mage - or he would die trying.


    Only then would he be satisfied.

 Chapter 4 - 4: Family Gathering

    Candace returned to the room a little while later with warm water and a fresh white shirt and soft black cotton trousers. It wasn''t what the other nobles wore but at least it was clean and not like the rags this body was used to wearing.


    He left his bedroom feeling refreshed and determined as he made his way to the dining room with Candace following behind with her head lowered.


    Just as he reached the door, he felt an alarming wave of power begin to radiate from behind it. He took a deep breath and steadied himself, his mana heart pumping furiously against the power seeping from the room as if fighting against it.


    Riven felt a shred of pity for the original owner of this body, that amount of magical power against someone without a mana heart must of been so uncomfortable to live with.


    The servant opened the door for him and he entered the room, his eyes scanning the large ornate dining table in front of him and all of his new family that surrounded it.


    "You''re late." The counts tone was sharp and cutting as he spoke and all eyes swept towards Riven. "Sit."


    There was an empty seat with a place setting at the end of the table which Riven settled himself in. He cast his eyes around the table, taking in the appearance of everyone there.


    His eldest sister, Ember, sat to the left of the Count, her vibrant red hair cascading in thick curls around her face, reminiscent of a lion''s mane. At eighteen, she carried herself with the confidence of someone who had already carved out her place in the world. Her crimson eyes didn''t so much as flicker in his direction as he took his seat, as if he were invisible.


    She wore a sharply tailored military-style suit, the dark fabric embroidered with gold accents. Numerous pins and badges adorned her lapel¡ªa clear testament to her achievements. Though Riven wasn''t familiar with their exact significance, he knew they marked various accomplishments earned through the prestigious Royal Magic Academy near the palace in the capital.


    His stepmother sat to the right side of the count, her pink eyes glaring openly at Riven - so intensely In fact, it was as if there were real flames in her gaze. She wore an outlandish and probably over expensive gown that fluttered around her in red frills and lace. He knew from this body''s memory that his stepmother hated him the most out of everyone because he was proof of her husband''s adultery.


    It''s not Rivens fault that the count can''t keep it in his pants.


    His elder brother, Cole, sat to the right of Riven and to the left of their stepmother, his presence as meticulously composed as his appearance. At seventeen¡ªthe same age as Riven¡ªhe was every bit the polished noble heir. His dark wine-red hair was neatly brushed and styled to perfection, not a strand out of place. Like Ember, he wore the same luxurious military-style suit, but his was immaculate, almost untouched by wear.


    And, just like their elder sister, he didn''t spare Riven even a glance. It was as if acknowledging his existence wasn''t worth the effort.


    His father''s presence was the most domineering in the room. His greying red hair was brushed back from his face and ruby encrusted patch covered his left eye. The count lost his eye 10 years ago but no one knew how it happened and the count refuses to speak about it.


    He wore a military suit like his children except his was adorned with one single star shaped ruby that seemed to shimmer as if there was a flame trapped inside.


    Compared to them, Rivens appearance was much more mundane. His hair was seemed almost black at first glance but in the light it had dark red glow. Because of his lack of care in the past, his hair length was just below his chest at the moment and the sensation of it was unusual for Riven. His eyes were a crystal clear blue, a colour unusual to the Counts family lineage and a clear tell of his illegitimacy. His body, which was muscular in his past life as a result of his hauling sacks of flour and grain, was now thin and weak.


    But, he had plans to change that.


    The count motioned for the servants to bring in dinner and Rivens eyes widened slightly as countless plates full of various meats and dishes were piling up on the centre of the table. Riven didn''t hesitate as he began to pile his plate up with glistening cuts of chicken and pork, roasted potatoes and various vegetables. He ate well in his past life but never like this! It tasted heavenly.


    "Disgusting." His stepmother, Etna, cringed as she watched him wolf down half of his plate in a matter of minutes.


    The count cleared his throat before speaking. "I guess you''re all wondering why I''ve invited the entire family down for dinner."


    "Yes, father." Ember agreed as she began to pick at the food on her plate. "It was strange for you to summon brother and I home."


    "Last night, there was a surprise attack on our northern borders." The count said and silence fell over the room.


    "Was it the Danu empire?" Ember asked as she set down her fork. The Danu empire had always been on bad terms with the Solis Empire, but they had never attacked before.


    "No," The count shook his head rubbed the bridge of his nose as if a headache was building. "It''s¡­" S~ea??h the n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The count trailed off and Rivens eyes flickered between the family members as he continued to eat.


    "Father?" Cole asked. "Who was it that attacked?" Even Rivens stiff elder brother seemed concerned in the counts tone.


    "It was a small group of undead." The count finally said and all hell broke loose.


    His stepmother gasped and covered her mouth whilst his elder brother and sister shot up from their chairs, both shouting at once.


    "It can''t be!"


    "Father it can''t be true!"


    "Sit down," The count commanded and his two siblings immediately sat down again. "It''s true, I''ve had it triple checked. They were undead."


    "So the undead¡­" Cole sounded almost defeated as he trailed off.


    "Yes, it seems like remnants of the past are coming back to haunt us." The count sighed. "The Shadow Kingdom is stirring once more."


    Riven swallowed the food in his mouth before setting down the fork on his plate. He didn''t really know what this all meant, but he was getting the feeling that it wasn''t good.


    "What has the King said?" Ember asked after a moment.


    "He has demanded that all nobles attend the academy in training." The counts eyes shifted to me. "A war is coming and even a single soldier can make a difference."


    "You can''t possibly mean to send Riven to the academy?!" His stepmother was horrified as she began to understand what the count was saying.


    "He can''t even create his own mana heart father, it would be an embarrassment to let this be known to the outside." Ember finally slid her ruby like eyes to rest on Riven and he felt his hands clench.


    "Dear, you can''t let anyone know you have an illegitimate child! Think of what they would say about us if they found out you sired a child with a maid! And he can''t even form a mana heart!" His stepmother began to weep and a flash of what seemed like sympathy flashed in the counts eyes for a moment before turning cold again.


    "It''s an order from the king." The count sighed. "What do you expect me to do? He knows of Riven, it''s not like I can hide him away when the King himself knows of his existence."


    Riven had heard enough of them speaking as if he wasn''t there and stood up, loudly scraping the chair legs backwards as he did so.


    "Not that any of you even bothered to check, but I did recently form a mana heart." Riven said as he wiped his mouth with one of the silk napkins. "Send me to the academy, I sure as hell don''t want anyone to know I''m apart of this family so it works out for everyone."


    "That''s ridiculous!" Coles brows furrowed as he finally focused on Riven. "There''s no way¡­"


    The count seemed to disappear from his chair and appear beside Riven in a matter of seconds and Riven almost stumbled backwards in shock. How¡­ did he just use magic.


    "Hold still." The count commanded and Riven obeyed only for the fact that he was still shocked about what he just witnessed. The count placed one of his calloused palms against the right side of Rivens chest and closed his eyes. A humming sound filled the room and the temperature shot up. The sound of fire crackling echoed in Rivens ears as a heat began to radiate from the Counts hand and into Rivens chest.


    Ba-dump. Ba-dump. Ba-dump.


    The counts eyes shot to Rivens and for the first time in his life, he finally seemed to see his son standing in front of him.


    "It''s true." He turned his head towards the dumbfounded family. "He''s manifested a mana heart.

 Chapter 5 - 5: Detox

    The manor was in an uproar after the count confirmed Riven had formed a mana heart. Dinner was swiftly forgotten about as orders were being shouted out to all the nearby servants. Riven was reassigned a new bedroom in the main wing of the manor near his siblings and now had a new handful of servants and maids under him. The count immediately sent word to the academy to enrol Riven into the new semester starting in the next month.


    His stepmother seethed as she watched from the sidelines, constantly complaining about the new treatment and attention Riven was receiving.


    But Riven didn''t care. He didn''t care that he was finally receiving the attention from his family that the former occupant of this body so desperately wanted. If his family was willing to give him any help towards becoming a mage, he would bleed them dry of everything he could.


    A bath was drawn in his new adjoining bathroom and Riven dismissed his servants as he stripped and stepped into the steaming waters. A medicinal tonic was added to the water and the herbal smell filled his nose.


    [[Substance detected¡­ Analysing¡­


    Detected high amounts of detoxifying potion. Do you wish to absorb this?


    (Y/N) ]]


    Rivens eyebrows shot up and he grinned as he selected ''yes''.


    "The system can also do things like this? I wonder if everyone else who has a mana heart can do this or if it''s just me." Riven pondered as a hum began to fill the air. His mana heart began to thud furiously in his chest as a subtle heat began to radiate from it. It started slow and then began branching out through his body until it felt like every cell in his body was covered in a comfortable heat.


    [[Beginning detoxifying process¡­ (1%)¡­ (2%)¡­ (3%)¡­]]


    Riven relaxed into the bath as the system began counting upwards. The heat continued in his body and after a while he noticed it began to get warmer and warmer until it started to become uncomfortable.


    [[(42%)¡­ (43%)¡­ (44%)¡­]]


    Riven gritted his teeth and a crackling noise began to fill the air, like the sound of flames in a hearth. Steam began to increase above the bath and a sizzling sound could be heard as the water began to evaporate from the skin of his arms that rested on top of the baths edge.


    Riven grunted as it began to feel as if he was slowly being boiled alive. Was this what the medicine was suppose to be doing?


    [[(61%)¡­ (62%)¡­ (63%)¡­]]


    The system continued on its counting and Riven clenched his hands into fists. Of course he was stupid to expect that his path to becoming powerful would be without instances like this. He knew he would have to suffer pain and have an unbreakable will to be able to get as powerful as he wanted to.


    Memories from the void and the excruciating and almost seemingly never ending pain that he endured came to the surface of his mind and he let out a humourless chuckle.


    "The pain I''m experiencing now is nothing compared to what I had to go through in the void." He said hoarsely and took a shaky deep breath as the water reached boiling point and began to bubble furiously.


    A yell tore through him as he felt his flesh blister and begin to tear away. The door to his bathing room burst open and he noticed the count, ember and a handful of servants rush in.


    "What is happening?!" The counts yell thundered through the room but Riven ignored it. He didn''t move as the detoxifying herbs ravaged his body, feeding the scorching heat inside of him.


    "We must remove him from the bath," he heard his sister comment as she began to approach. "His mana heart must not be strong enough to endure the detoxifying potion. I told you he was far too weak for you to be wasting precious medicines on him."


    Riven felt her approach and a large whooshing noise sounded just as another system notification popped up in front of him.


    [[Detecting outside disturbance. ]]


    [[Initiating defence procedures.]]


    An even greater hum filled the air like an angry swarm of bees and a red bubble like sphere appeared around him and the bath.


    Ember placed her hand upon it and then swiftly retrieved it as if it pained her to touch it.


    "What¡­ he already can perform defence magic?" Ember muttered confusedly more to herself than anyone else.


    The count took a step forward and placed a hand on her shoulder, his shocked gaze never once leaving his son.


    "He''s not taking a reaction to the potion." The count said. "Look."


    A yell tore through Riven again and chunks of flesh began to float in the now blood filled water.


    [[(98%)¡­ (99%)¡­ (100%)¡­]]


    [[Detoxifying process now complete.


    Extracting toxins from the body.]]


    A cold sensation swept over Rivens body and he rested his head backwards at the soothing feeling that calmed his scorching nerves. He watched as the sweat on his skin begin to increase and then turn dark and darker until his sweat turned into some sort of thick greying substance.


    "Oh my god." Ember placed a hand over her mouth as she watched the grey sludge begin to fill the bath and drop to the floor. "Is that¡­"


    "He''s expelling such a vast amount of toxins at once," the count mumbled as if he couldn''t believe what he''s seeing. "I''ve only heard of this happening a few times by the royal healing mages - but even then it''s rare. A mage can only expel a small portion of their toxins with each potion, especially if they are below a First Circle Mage. This is¡­"


    The count was lost for words as he watched his son in the bath - a glint flickered in his eyes as he studied the relaxed face of Riven and it was if he was truly seeing him for the first time.


    [[Detoxification complete. ]]


    [[You have expelled all toxins in your body at this stage.]]


    [[Next detoxifying process can be performed at:


    Abyss Mana Heart (+1 Ring) (Rank ???)]]


    Riven let out a sigh of relief that the process was over. His heavy eyes closed as he fought exhaustion.


    "The shield is down, quickly clean and dress him. He needs to rest after that." The count commanded and Riven felt the servants surround him as they began to gently scrub the greyish sludge from his skin.


    "Rest now and we will talk in the morning." The count said in a soft tone that Riven couldn''t remember hearing in any of the original memories of this body.


    The count dragged a stunned Ember from the room and Riven felt like he could truly relax now without them here.


    "System, am i able to ask you a question?" Riven asked in his head, not expecting a response.


    [[I can answer you according to my preprogrammed answers.]]


    Riven let out the breath he was holding and sent out another question, "Are you able to alert me if I become in danger?"


    [[When the system detects an unusual amount of bloodlust aimed towards the user, the system will send an alert.]]


    Relief swept through Riven and he finally fell unconscious. Exhausted from enduring against the potion, Riven was only able to hold long enough to ensure he would be safe whilst sleeping.


    He slept more deeply than he had ever done even in his previous life.


    -x-


    Shouts and grunts had Riven quickly opening his eyes. He checked his surroundings and noticed he was standing atop what must have been some sort of high stone wall.


    Soldiers clad in armour ran behind him as men atop a turreted tower beside him shouted out commands.


    "What the hell is going on?" Riven could tell this was a dream, but nothing like he had ever experienced before.


    A loud roar ripped through the air and Riven quickly ran to the edge of the wall to look down to where the noise was coming from.


    "My god." He whispered as he took in the scene below him. A horde of horrifying humans were charging towards the wall, their movements distorted and unusual. As they got closer, their appearance reminded Riven of zombies, an undead monster that he had seen in countless movies and tv shows growing up.


    "Fire!" A man screamed from atop of the turreted tower and Riven watched wide eyed as a glowing red circle appeared in the air. An intricate set of runes began to spread out from inside the circle and after a moment, a roaring ball of fire shot out from inside it and slammed into the approaching hoard of undead.


    "Soldiers advance!" Another man yelled from down below and Riven watched stunned as row after row of armoured soldiers ran forward, each sword raised and glowing various colours. They began cutting down the undead in a rainbow of colour as each sword seemed to be empowered with different elements of mana.


    "Fire!" The man from the turret cried out again and another fireball, bigger this time, flew forward and once again slammed into the frenzied hoard of undead.


    Riven lifted his hand and gazed in wonder whilst asking himself, "Will I be able to do magic like that one day too?"


    His mana heart thundered in response and he felt the mana begin to build in his hand. Silence filled the air and all of a sudden the undead hoards faces all snapped up to look at him.


    "Oh shit." Riven whispered just as the undead let out an ungodly scream and began to swarm the wall more desperately than before. They began climbing atop each other, clawing at the wall with bloodied fingers as the knights continued to chop them down.


    Riven tried to move but for some reason his feet were now sealed to the floor. He could only watch in horror as the undead continued to build a ramp from their dead bodies. The pile of decay grew larger and larger until Riven finally saw a bony grey hand grasp the walls edge.


    "Wake up! Wake up! Wake up!" Riven said desperately to himself as an undead man pulled himself up and over the wall, his bloodshot eyes glaring at Riven as he approached. sea??h th§× nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "System! Wake me up, please!" Riven cried out in his mind just as the undead man stretched out a putrid hand towards Rivens face.


    Suddenly, the world faded to black.


    [[Detecting high levels of stress.]]


    [[Releasing soothing enzymes into the body.]]


    [[Body now entering rest mode.]]


    Riven couldn''t help but be thankful yet again for the system. He fell into a deep sleep again, and thankfully this time there was no dream.

 Chapter 6 - 6: Knowledge

    A soft knock on Rivens door woke him up the next morning. He called for them to enter as he sat up in his new soft and clean bed, stretching his limbs as he watched the maids file into his bedroom one after the other.


    "Good morning young master," the lead maid, Candace whom served him before, spoke and bowed her head.


    He smirked as he watched her cowering before him, so vastly different from how she had acted yesterday.


    "The count requests your presence in his office." Candace said in an even quieter tone as if intimidated by the smirk Riven was giving her.


    "Very well." Riven agreed and quickly freshened up with the help of his new maids. They also helped him dress into a new set of clothes - a luxurious looking dark red suit with a black undershirt.


    They then began to come his hair and were about to lift scissors up to it when Riven held a hand up to stop them.


    The long hair that hung to his chest was strange for him, who in his past life had always kept his hair cut short. But¡­ it seemed to serve as a reminder to him of the one who once possessed this body. He felt an attachment of sorts to the previous owner of this body and the pain he had to live through. The longer hair also reminded him that he was different now.


    It was symbol of new life.


    "Leave it long, just help me tidy it up a little." Riven instructed and maid nodded and began to brush it back.


    Riven examined himself in the mirror and was surprised to see how well he looked. Despite his thin appearance from the previous lack of food, his skin was clear and almost glowing with life. His eyes which were an almost dull grey yesterday were now a bright blue colour reminding him of the sky on a summers day.


    Not only was his appearance improved, his body felt lighter and stronger than it had yesterday - even more improved than it had been in his previous life!


    If this was the result of only one magical potion - just what other ones were out there for him to use?


    That lead him to his first task in this new life.


    He needed money.


    He exited his room and began making his way down towards the counts office, inwardly laughing at how the servants bowed their heads as he passed. It was such a stark difference to how it was when he first awoke in this world.


    "The young master Riven has arrived, my Lord." A servant announced as Riven got to the door and the count allowed them in. The office was large and grand and the count sat behind a large mahogany desk in front a huge bay mirror that overlooked the front of the estate.


    "Sit down," the count motioned for Riven to sit in one of the plush chairs on the other side of the desk, which Riven did. "I hope you''re well after yesterday."


    "Yes, my Lord." Riven said and the count looked up with furrowed brows as he heard the name ''my Lord''.


    What? Did he expect me to call him father after everything he''s done?


    "That''s good." The count nodded and sat back. "Now then, can you tell me when and how you were able to form your mana heart?"


    Riven expected this line of questioning, so had prepared some answers. "I never stopped trying to absorb mana the way you showed me, my Lord." Riven said, trying to squeeze some sadness into his words. "Everyday without fail I would try to absorb mana, until one day - around a month ago - I was able to absorb some."


    Riven thought long and hard last night about what he would say to the count. Of course what he really wanted to do was just leave and never see them again, but it wouldn''t be smart to do it that way. He still needed knowledge of this world and on how mana worked, and to do that he needed the counts money and influence to get him into the academy.


    And maybe fill his pockets along the way.


    "I see." The count nodded and rested his hands on the desk. "Why didn''t you report it to anyone?"


    "I was instructed to never leave my bedroom, my lord." Riven said quietly. "I also wanted to form my mana heart before I told you, just to be sure."


    "Is that so?" The count nodded but didn''t seem to totally accept his answer.


    "I would''ve been able to do it faster, but because of the lack of food I barely had any strength left to focus on absorbing any mana." Riven sighed and looked pitifully at his hands.


    "What?" The count froze. "What do you mean without any food?"


    Riven feigned innocence as he looked up at the count. "Of course, I''m not saying I deserved any food. The soup I would get every couple of days was enough for me."


    He met the counts gaze and watched as the count finally noticed his gaunt appearance and the sunken features of Rivens face.


    "Jameson, find out what has happened." The count growled at the butler that stood to the side of the room. "Now!"


    Huh¡­ Did the count really not know how his son was being treated? Was this all for show? S§×arch* The N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Tell me of your living conditions." The count ordered rather than asked and Riven was all too eager to tell him.


    He explained how he had been abused and tortured throughout his life and how he had sometimes been locked in his room for weeks without food and only a little water which he had to drink from his water basin. The counts face grew darker the more he listened and by the time the butler returned, it seemed as if he were about to explode with anger.


    "My lord, this maid was in charge of the young masters care." The butler brought in Candace and she was visibly shaking as she fell to her knees in front of the count.


    "Please my lord, I''ve done nothing wrong!" Candace sobbed immediately.


    "You''ve done nothing wrong?" The count asked, his tone harsh and sharp. "So you didn''t starve my son? You didn''t torment him daily? You didn''t let him sleep in his own filth?" The longer the count spoke the more angry he got, the room almost shaking with the power of his voice.


    "Please my lord!" Candace cried and she tried to talk but the count cut her off.


    "And what of his allowance?" The count asked and Candace fell silent.


    Allowance? This was the first time Riven had heard of an allowance.


    "I¡­ I do not know my Lord." Candace whispered.


    "You don''t know?" The count asked furiously as he grabbed the maid from around her neck and lifted her into the air. A hum of mana filled the room and the counts eye began to glow a brilliant red as he pulled the maid close. "Speak, or lose your life." He commanded.


    Sparks began to appear in the air and a sickening sizzle of flesh began to fill up the quiet room. Candace let out a scream as the counts hand that was secured around her neck began to glow red.


    "Please! I was ordered by the madam to give it to her!" Candace cried out as the flesh around her neck continued to burn. "She ordered me to neglect the young master! I''m sorry! Please have mercy!"


    The counts expression slackened at her words and he carelessly tossed her to the side.


    "Take her to the dungeon until I decide what to do with her." The count ordered as he walked towards the window and stared outside, his reflection showing a mixture of rage and sadness on his aging face.


    "My lord¡­" Riven struggled to find the words to say. He knew that his stepmother hated him but he also thought his father also shared in that hatred.


    It doesn''t change the fact that he left his son alone and never checked up on him to discover the neglect though.


    "Leave this issue with me and I will get to the bottom of it." The count said quietly. "I''ll make sure you receive all of the allowance you were supposed to have had. It will do you well when you join the academy next month."


    Riven almost wanted to break into a dance when the count said that but he restrained himself.


    "Of course my Lord, thank you." Riven said and bowed slightly.


    "If there''s nothing else, you can leave." The count said and Riven turned to leave, stopping just before the door.


    "Actually, my lord, I was hoping you would grant me access to the library to study up on mana." Riven asked hopefully. Being able to read up on this world and mana before the academy would definitely be of help.


    "Of course," The count said incredulously. "You''ve always had access to the library. You needn''t ask."


    Stunned, Riven gave his thanks and exited the office.


    All these years he had memories of the original owner of this body begging to be able to go to the library to try and better himself, but Candace had always told him that the Count had forbade it.


    But all this time he had been allowed¡­


    He sighed as he shoved his hands into his pockets and made his way to the library.


    His number one enemy at the moment was Etna, his stepmother. It was obvious she wasn''t going to stand still now that he was receiving all this attention from the count. It was only a matter of time before she made her next move.


    That meant he had to start getting stronger. And he knew just where to start.


    He grinned as he pushed open the library doors, the two guards stationed outside not even glancing his way as he passed.


    "Well¡­ finding the right book might be a lot more difficult than I thought." Riven scratched his head as he glanced around the huge library that was filled with books from top to bottom.


    I need to find a book for a beginner mage, something that could help me understand how things work and how I can start growing my mana.


    [[Scanning for entry level mana related books¡­


    Please wait¡­]]


    Riven was startled when the screen popped up in front of him and he grinned.


    "Isn''t this system cheating a little?" He chuckled to himself.


    [[I have located four books that contain the knowledge you seek.]]


    His vision suddenly dimmed and four books to the right side of the library began to shimmer with a bright blue glow.


    He walked over and stacked them into a small pile in his arms before settling down at one of the many tables scattered throughout the library.


    He placed the top book in front of him, a brown leather book embossed beautifully with different runes and shapes. He opened the book and just as he was about to read the first passage, a system window popped up in front of his face.


    [[You have collected the book: What is Mana?


    Do you wish to download this information?


    (Yes/No)]]


    "Huh?" Rivens mouth dropped open as he read the text over and over again.


    No¡­ surely this didn''t mean what he thought it means¡­


    He selected the ''yes'' button and just like when he received the memories of his body''s previous owner, he now recieved all the information detailed in the book downloaded straight into his brain.


    Without having to read anything!


    "Yes!" Riven cheered quietly as he looked down at the book again. His heart thundered as he flicked through all the new knowledge he had just received. "Why should I stop at just one book?" He grinned as he opened the next book and cheered silently when the system window popped up once more.


    He continued with this over and over again until finally, when the midday sun blazed through the window, he put the last of his books back on the shelf.


    He had absorbed all the knowledge from every book relating to mana in his family''s library.


    "Time to put it to the test." He grinned excitedly as he left the library and slipped back into his new bedroom.


    He sat crossed legged on his bed and closed his eyes, pulling up all the important parts of the knowledge he had just received.


    He had learned that around a thousand years ago, the first King of Solis was in fact, half dragon. Born from the first human/dragon relationship, he was blessed with immense power. His father, the dragon, had passed down knowledge of mana and how to use it and with it, the Emperor became all powerful.


    It is said that he became a ninth ring mage and used his power to conquer the land his empire now rest upon. He then passed his knowledge down to his children, and then they passed it down to their children and so on and so forth.


    When new Empires began to be discovered on different continents, the knowledge of mana was then distributed amongst the nobles just incase any war should break out.


    Now for how one could absorb mana.


    Mana was all around us, like tiny sparks of life floating around in the air we breathe. It''s more concentrated in special places and can also be compressed into mana crystals which were extremely rare and expensive.


    To absorb mana, one needed to be in tune with it. You needed to sense those tiny sparks of life around you and absorb them into your mana heart.


    It sounded simple enough.


    Memories of the void flickered through his memory and he pondered for a moment before asking the system, "System, can you check how much mana I currently have?"


    [[Abyss Mana Heart (+0 rings) (Rank ???) (63% progress)]]


    Riven''s eyes widened as he saw the description.


    In the books he read earlier, it said that it took a considerable amount of time to reach the first mana ring because of how difficult it was to get the hang of absorbing mana.


    Just how much did he absorb in the void?!


    He remembered the pain he had to go through to get it and shivered. Hopefully it wouldn''t be like that this time.


    He closed his eyes and began to try and reach out mentally to find these so called sparks of life.


    [[Entering meditation.


    Would you like to begin mana absorption?


    (Yes/No)]]


    Riven wasn''t even surprised when he saw the notification window pop up. He wanted to kiss and hug the notification screen but cleared his throat instead, dismissing the bubble of excitement in his stomach.


    With an excited grin, he pressed ''yes''.

 Chapter 7 - 7: Tomas

    As he began to absorb the mana, Riven had braced himself for pain to come just like it had in the void.


    But nothing happened.


    In fact¡­ it felt nice.


    He closed his eyes and tried to search within his body to try and sense how the mana was being absorbed. He reached out with his mental senses to where his mana heart was and felt it beating rapidly with a soft yellow glow.


    He then stretched his senses outside of his body and at first he didn''t notice anything past the darkness of his closed eyelids.


    But then, he sensed it.


    Tiny white lights were floating around him, dancing in the air. He watched amazed as one by one, each of them drew closer until they reached a vacuum like suction in front of his chest and were absorbed.


    [[Congratulations! Your understanding of mana has improved!]]


    [[Reward: Mana absorption increased by 25%]]


    The vacuum in front of his chest began to spin faster until all the dancing mana lights in his bedroom began to tremble and be swiftly pulled in towards him.


    [[Absorbing Mana: (+25%)


    (65%)¡­ (66%)¡­ (67%)¡­]]


    The time it took between each 1% grew longer as the mana in the air began to grow more and more sparse.


    A few hours passed and his progress bar had only gone up by 4%. His stomach growled and it was then that Riven realised that he hadn''t eaten today yet. He had one last search but it seemed that he had absorbed all the remaining mana close to him.


    As he got up from the bed and stretched his limbs, he recalled some of the knowledge he obtained from his family''s library. It was said that one could increase their mana exponentially with the help of potions or areas dense with mana. It did mention one of the mana dense areas being located within the academy so Riven decided to make that his first task to do once he arrived there next month.


    He called for a maid and requested a lunch be prepared for him. A little while later a servant arrived along with a man dressed in chef attire.


    "Young master, please pardon my intrusion." The chef said with his head bowed. "I wish to speak with you in private for a moment if you would allow it."


    Oh? Riven raised an eyebrow as warning bells sounded in his mind. Could this man be in cahoots with his step mother? Was she making a move this fast?


    "I''ll allow it." Riven nodded and sent the maid away. He eyed the shiny silverware set on the trolley that the maid brought in and he took a few casual steps towards it, ready to grab the steak knife and defend himself if needed.


    Damn he wished he knew how to use his mana.


    "What is it that you wanted?" Riven asked as he casually put a hand on the trolleys handle, right beside the knife.


    The chef suddenly dropped to the ground sobbing and Riven almost jumped backwards, shocked at the man actions.


    "Please forgive me, young master!" The chef cried, the man''s chubby sobbing face reminding Riven of a baby crying. "This useless man has failed you!"


    "Uhh¡­" Riven was speechless as he watched the man continue to sob on his bedroom floor. "Who¡­ who exactly are you?"


    "Oh, of course you wouldn''t know who this useless old man is." The chef sobbed and removed his pristine white toque from his head, revealing a head of greying blonde hair. "My name is Tomas, I''m the head chef of the Counts household. I was¡­ I was also very close to your mother before she passed." Tomas looked downwards as he squeezed his toque in his hands.


    "My mother?" Riven asked, a frown forming on his face at the mention of her. Memories from his bodies previous owner flooded his mind but none of them were good.


    Whenever the original owner of his body had asked about his mother, he was berated constantly and was told that she died during his childbirth. Candace would call him a murderer, blaming him for the passing of his mother. He would stay up nights on end, sobbing and calling for the mother that wasn''t there.


    Riven swallowed the lump in his throat and clenched his jaw.


    "Amelia and I were very close - we grew up in the same orphanage and were hired into the Counts household together." Tomas explained, his sobs softening as his gaze darkened. "She asked me to take care of you should anything happen to her and I promised I would. Whenever I prepared meals for everyone, I would make sure you got the finest cuts of meat. I even used some of my wages each month to send small toys and gifts to you on your birthday but Candace¡­ she just admitted¡­ you never got any of it. She starved you and abused you and all the servants and maids here just turned a blind eye to it."


    Riven was bewildered at Tomas''s confession, unsure of how to react, he scratched the back of his head and motioned for Tomas to stand.


    "I know you might be wary of me, and I know you don''t have to forgive me for it is my own ignorance that I didn''t check on you." Tomas said, his voice thick with emotion. He reached into his pocket and retrieved a small pouch and held it out towards Riven.


    Riven took the small leather satchel and examined it warily before pulling open the strings and looking inside. Gold coins, reminding him of pirates doubloons he had seen in his previous life, were piled inside.


    "It''s not much, but I''ve been saving some money for you each month since you were born. I was going to give it to you on your birthday at the end of the year, but I suppose it would be of much more use to you now before you set off for the academy." Tomas smiled, his blue eyes squinting with the motion, causing more tears to escape.


    Riven didn''t have much knowledge on the currency in this world, but he knew a gold coin was worth quite a bit.


    Rivens stomach knotted as he looked at the coins in the pouch. Even if Tomas was the head chef for the counts household, Riven was smart enough to know that this would be a large amount of money for the man.


    "When I heard news about the young masters mana heart finally manifesting, I was overjoyed. But then when Candace''s confession came out, all I could think about was how lonely you must have been and how hard you must have worked." Tomas voice broke as he met Rivens eyes. "Your mother would be so proud if she saw you now."


    Silence filled the room as many emotions and memories swirled in his mind, some of his own and some of the previous owner of his body.


    This man was nothing to Riven, and Riven knew that anyone could hide true intentions behind sweet exteriors.


    Tomas said he sent packages to him every year? Provided him with delicious food every day?


    So what.


    The original owner of his body never received any of those things. So what change did it make now that he was confessing all of this?


    Riven learned his lesson of betrayal before - he was different now.


    "Eh? It''s not your fault Tomas." Riven planted a fake bright smile on his face as he tossed the pouch up in the air and caught it again, the clinking sound of coins echoing around the room. "It''s all in the past, right? All is well now."


    "Young master¡­" Tomas froze and a fresh wave of tears began to stream down his face. "I promise I won''t fail you again! I''ll prepare all your meals personally from now on!"


    "Yes, yes." Riven continued to smile as he ushered Tomas to the door. "I''ll be in your care."


    "If you need anything young master, don''t hesitate to come to me!" Tomas continued to cry and smile at the same time and Riven gave him a pat on the back as he half pushed him out the door.


    "Yes of course," Riven gave a small chuckle. "And thank you for the money, I will make good use of it."


    "Haha! Yes!" Tomas laughed heartily as he waved and made his way back down the hallway, a gleeful skip to his steps. S§×arch* The ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Riven closed the door and the fake smile disappeared from his face, his eyes turning cold and dark. He clenched the pouch of money and clenched his jaw.


    "I''ll use whatever I need to achieve my goals," Riven said quietly as he placed the pouch in his inside pocket. "I know now that trust is a fragile string that inevitably snaps in the end. I don''t need something like friends or family in this life because in the end I will be on my own once more."

 Chapter 8 - 8: Compensation

    [[Currency detected.


    Would you like to store your currency?


    (Yes/No)]]


    "Hmm?" Riven raised an eyebrow as he studied the notification. He held the pouch in his hand again and then selected the ''Yes'', watching stunned as a bright blue glow radiated from inside the bag and then disappeared. It happened to so fast that Riven couldn''t tell if he had saw it correctly or not.


    [[Digital bank total:


    18 Gold]]


    [[Congratulations! You have collected your first currency in this world!


    Reward: 50 Gold]]


    [[Digital bank total:


    68 Gold]]


    "Well that saves me from having to worry where I store my money." Riven chuckled and then decided to try out the new feature.


    He thought in his mind about taking out two gold coins and just like before, a blue glow radiated from inside his enclosed hand. He opened his hand and grinned at the two shiny golden coins and then watched in delight as he stored them back in the system. sea??h th§× N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "God I wished I had played more games in my previous life." Riven sighed as he pulled the tray of food over to a small table beside the window overlooking the manors garden. "If I had, I would definitely know more about this systems functions."


    As he tucked into a delicious meal full of chicken and potatoes, he watched out over the lavish and lush gardens, enjoying in his small moment of peace and quiet.


    BOOM!


    A loud explosion rocked the manor and Riven almost choked on the piece of chicken he was eating. He grabbed hold of the table as the room trembled and dust began to fall from the ceiling.


    "What the hell was that?!" Riven shouted as he ran to the door and swung it open. Servants and maids ran through the hall, their faces pale as the shockwaves from the explosion settled down. Riven grabbed one of the servants as they scurried past.


    "Where did the explosion happen?" Riven asked and the servant shrank back from him.


    "T-The training grounds," The servant stammered and as Riven let go and began to race down the hall the servant called out after him, "Stop young master! The Count is angry!"


    Riven didn''t stop as he continued to race down the hall to where the commotion was. A large amount of Mana hummed in the air and the hair on his skin stood up as a result.


    Riven shuddered as he exited the manor and followed the huge plume of smoke. He would never skip the chance to witness someone using magic, especially when he had yet to do some himself. He needed to learn everything he could.


    The training grounds were located beside the manor, near the knights barracks. It was a huge open dirt field where the guards trained and exercised. Riven had made a mental note that he wanted to visit here to strengthen his body before going to the academy, but he didn''t imagine he would end up here today.


    As he got closer he could see the count standing in the centre of the field, a bright orange glow surrounding him as if he was a living flame. His hand was outstretched and sparks jumped from his fingers as if another explosion was about to occur at any moment.


    Opposite the count stood a panting Ember, her body aglow with a similar yet less impressive orange glow. Her hand was also outstretched but shook slightly.


    His father and sister were fighting? It certainly didn''t look like simple sparring.


    He then noticed a cowering Etna hidden behind Ember and realisation settled on his mind.


    An evil smirk curved his lips. Oh this is good. This is very good.


    "Father, please control your anger." Panted Ember. "I beg of you."


    "Why are you interfering, daughter?" The count asked, his tone full of anger. "This does not concern you."


    "You are both my parents," Ember said, her normal pristine hair disheveled as she continued, "Please can we settle this matter with words and not violence. It''s just a misunderstanding."


    "A misunderstanding?" The count let out a humourless chuckle. "Did you even ask her what she has done?"


    "I did nothing!" Etna cried, poking her head over Ember''s shoulder. "That maid lied! I had nothing to do with that child!"


    "Lies!" The count yelled and just like before in Riven''s dream, a glowing orange circle full of runes began to appear in front of outstretched hand.


    His stepmother screamed whilst Ember began to also form a magic circle infront of her own outstretched hand.


    "Stop father!" Ember cried as she watched his magic circle grow bigger and bigger.


    Riven felt adrenaline coarse through his body as he watched the conjuring magic, his fingers twitching as if they wanted to try and do the same.


    A roaring sound of fire filled the training field and the counts darkened gaze was locked onto Etna.


    My god, was he going to kill her?


    This was great.


    Just as the spell was finished the Count yelled furiously and lifted his hand to the sky at the last moment, shooting a huge fire ball upwards.


    It exploded high above them, almost like a crude firework and Riven stared at it open mouthed.


    Ash and embers began to fall like snow around them and a heavy silence fell on the three in front of him. He chose to make his move.


    "My Lord? What happened?" Riven asked as he approached them closer.


    The count looked over at him surprised and regained his composure.


    "Ah, that must have surprised you." The count cleared his throat and he lifted his hand towards Riven and a small glow emanated from his fingers and suddenly an umbrella shaped glow appeared above Rivens head, shielding him from the ash and embers.


    "What happened?" Riven asked again, looking over at the half collapsed Ember and still cowering Etna.


    "The maid gave a full confession." The count sighed as he dusted off his jacket, also casting an umbrella shaped glow above himself. "It seems that your step mother had given her the orders for your mistreatment. She had also been pocketing your allowance - the butler found the bank statements in her room."


    "Lies! It''s all untrue!" Etna cried, finally pushing past her daughter to stand in front of the count. Her luxurious dress had scorch marks all over its skirts and her makeup was smeared down her face from where she had been crying.


    "Mother, I''ve seen the bank statements." Ember spoke as she walked slowly towards them. "You have also signed each month yourself. It is no use to deny it now, instead you need to ask forgiveness."


    "What¡­ you!" Etna was lost for words as her fury piqued. "You all also hated him! So what if I took money from him?! What would he spend it on anyway?!"


    Riven tried to hide his grin as he prepared to put on his best performance yet.


    "It''s fine," Riven said softly and all three of them looked at him. "All those days of being starved, beaten and tormented¡­" he emphasised each one, noticing how the Counts face grew darker and his stepmothers face grew paler. "I just want to put this all behind me and start fresh."


    Silence settled on the group.


    "That''s¡­ very kind and mature of you." The count cleared his throat. "But there still needs to be some sort of punishment for the neglect of a Counts child."


    Riven almost wanted to laugh in the counts face for that statement. Wasn''t it also the count himself who neglected and abandoned his own son?


    "Well, since I''m going to the academy next month, perhaps a few potions or supplies?" Riven asked whilst making himself look as innocent as possible. "I know these things won''t change the past but they can give me a great start to my future." He gave the Count and Countess a small smile and noticed his stepmothers face growing redder and redder.


    "How dare -!" The stepmother was about to explode before Ember put a hand on her shoulder. He thought his sister was about to object and support her mother, but instead she dropped into a deep bow in front of Riven.


    "Brother, please allow me to apologise on my mother''s behalf," Ember said solemnly, her messy curls dropping as she dipped her head lower. "She was hurt and let her emotions take control. She made some terrible mistakes and will definitely ensure to compensate you."


    "I will not-" His stepmother was about to argue but fell silent under the furious glare of the count.


    "And whilst my brother and I were not directly responsible for what happened to you, we also did not seek you out." Ember continued. "So please accept our apologies also."


    "Ah¡­" Riven was surprised at his sister''s willingness - surprised but also suspicious. But it was fine for now as it was working in his favour. "Of course I forgive you. Let us not speak of it again." Riven offered his hand and a glint of surprise registered in Embers red eyes before she placed her hand in his and let him help her up.


    "I''ve also retrieved what you''re owed in allowance." The count said as placed a gentle hand on Rivens shoulder. "You can come collect it later at my office - I''ll send someone to get you when it''s ready. You can also choose which items the countess can repay you with."


    "Thank you, my lord." Riven said, enjoying the defeated look on his step mother''s face.


    "Now, let''s go prepare for dinner." The count began to lead them back into the manor. "You must be hungry."


    Riven was almost floating he was so happy. When he thought about the amount of money and items he was about to receive, he couldn''t help but feel full already.

 Chapter 9 - 9: Wealth

    Dinner ended up only being Riven and the Count after Ember and Etna had sent word that they were going to retire early for the evening and have dinner in their room. Cole was also not there and the Count explained that he had sent him to the Academy to fill out all the paperwork for Riven to get admitted.


    After dinner they made their way towards the office and Riven couldn''t help but feel excited about what was about to happen.


    They sat on one of the comfortable sofas to the side of the office and the count signalled for the butler to bring something over.


    "In here is your account details for the Solis Bank." The count explained as he took an elegant looking envelope off the tray the butler brought over. He handed it to Riven and then signalled for the butler to leave.


    Riven looked at the envelope in his hands and tried to resist the urge to kiss it.


    "There''s around 100,000 Gold in there - the total allowance that was stolen from you and a little extra from me just to make sure you can get everything you need for the academy." The count explained and Riven froze.


    Did he just say¡­ 100,000 Gold?!


    "T-Thank you." Riven voice was shaky as he tucked the envelope in his jacket. The possibilities of what he could do with that amount of money was making his imagination run wild.


    "Now, for the next part." The count said and stood up. He went behind his desk and reached under it, a resounding ''click'' noise could be heard and all of a sudden one of the bookcases swung open.


    "This is the Drakar treasury." The count explained as he motioned for Riven to follow him. They walked past where the bookcase was and hidden behind it was a thick iron door covered in runes. The count held up his hand and a magical circle began to appear. The runes on the door began to glow one by one until finally the door opened.


    Riven''s jaw dropped as he surveyed the treasury. Endless shelves were stocked with potion bottles and medicines, while rows of swords, staffs, and other weapons lined the back wall. At the center of the room stood a glass display case, showcasing an array of glittering gems and uncut crystal fragments that shimmered and glistened in the glow of the chandelier above.


    "You may choose two things in here and I will have the countess pay for them." The count said. "There are countless treasures in here but I won''t help you choose - let your intuition guide you."


    Ha! Intuition? I''m not gonna waste this valuable opportunity on sheer luck and just choose anything!


    "System, are you able to help me find the most precious items in here?" I sent out the message mentally, hoping and praying to whatever god that was out there that this was a function.


    [[Are you searching for valuable items or items that will be most beneficial to your magical growth?


    (Value/Growth)]]


    Riven pondered the question for a moment. Whilst having more wealth right now wouldn''t be a bad thing, he really did need to boost his magical power. And god only knows when he will get another chance to raid his family''s treasury again.


    Finally decided, he clicked ''Growth''.


    [[Scanning for compatible items¡­]]


    His vision began to darken again just like before in the library. Suddenly two items began to glow a brilliant blue light.


    He approached the closest glowing item first. A small bookshelf was placed under the shelves of potions and medicines.


    Countless dusty tomes and smaller leather bound books filled it shelves and Riven wondered what type of information their pages held. He carefully slid out the book the was glowing and raised an eyebrow.


    "That''s quite the pick," the count cleared his throat and came closer. "That''s a spell book, written by the first head of House Drakar."


    "A spell book?" Rivens eyes widened as he looked at the dusty book in his hands.


    "Although I would suggest you pick another one." The count sighed. "The first head of Drakar was the most powerful mage this family has ever had. His set of skills were unbelievably powerful and unique - the King almost gave a royal edict to prohibit our ancestor from passing down his skills." S§×arch* The n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "So why did the king change his mind?" Riven asked, trembling at the thought of how powerful this man must have been to have the king from stopping him passing on his skills.


    "Because his skills were impossible to learn," The count sighed and looked longingly at the book in Rivens hands. "The runes inside the magic circles depicted in the book were impossible to comprehend and replicate. No one in the family has been able to use any of the skills he has passed down."


    Riven looked at the book in wonder. He knew right now in his heart that he wanted - no, he needed to learn these skills. Plus, the system wouldn''t have told him to choose this book if he would be unable to use it.


    "I feel like I should still try," Riven smiled up at the count. "I feel like I owe it to our ancestor to give it my all and to stop his precious book from collecting dust."


    The count looked at Riven for a moment, a mixture of emotions on his face as he contemplated wether to let him have the book or not.


    "Very well." The count gave a small smile and nodded. "Now go choose your last item."


    Riven let out a sigh of relief as he tucked the book under his arm and went to the back wall where all the weapons were. The system was leading him towards a heavy wooden trunk tucked away in the corner.


    He looked up at all the shiny weapons and then down at the dust laden trunk.


    I''m putting a lot of faith in you, system! Don''t let me down!


    Riven let out a small sigh before unlatching the trunk and lifting up the lid. A cloud of dust billowed out and Riven fanned the front of his face whilst coughing. As the dust cleared Riven saw the trunk was filled with various old ledgers and letters. He frowned as he began to sift through the papers until he finally grabbed the item that the system had lead him to.


    He pulled out what looked like a charred piece of wood. It was blackened and splintered and felt as if it would turn to ash at any moment.


    System¡­ what the hell are you telling me to choose?! Riven wanted to cry.


    [[Would you like me to appraise this item?


    (Yes/No)]]


    Riven didn''t hesitate as he selected the ''yes'' button.


    [[Scanning¡­]]


    [[Item: Staff of Ignis (Rank: Legendary)


    (Broken) (Repair 0 of 3)


    Item description: Forged by the fiery breath of the Dragon King, the Staff of Ignis is one of the first artefacts to have been gifted by the Dragons.


    (Can be Evolved)


    Skill bonus: (Broken)


    + 25% mana absorption whilst item is held.


    + 50% Fire Damage


    + 50% Fire Resistance


    Unlock skill: Ignis''s Wrath (Broken)


    (When activated, the user enters berserk mode and gains unlimited stamina for 1 minute.)


    Unlock skill: Dragon Eyes (Passive Skill) (Broken)


    User can now detect heat signatures even if they are in stealth mode.]]


    Riven trembled as his legs almost gave out from underneath him.


    A-A legendary weapon! System I want to kiss you!


    "I''m taking these two!" Riven exclaimed, unable to hide his excitement as he stood before the count.


    The count looked down at the charred stick in Rivens hand and frowned.


    "My son¡­ that piece of wood was only kept here because it was found with the first head of Dakar''s belongings. To be honest, it''s pretty much garbage." The count explained, eyeing the crumbling item in his son''s hand.


    "It might not look like much but my intuition has led me to it." Riven tried to feign innocence as he repeated the counts previous words.


    The count sighed before saying, "If your only choosing this item to lessen the burden on your stepmother-"


    "Not at all!" Riven said and then realised he could use this to his advantage so he looked to the floor trying to gain some more sympathy. "I just don''t want to make her hate me anymore than she already does."


    Silence filled the room before Riven felt the Count pat him on the shoulder. He then walked over to the shelves with the potions and grabbed a tiny blue bottle.


    "Seeing as you chose such humble gifts, you can have this too." The count smiled softly as he handed the blue bottle to Riven. "This should definitely help you catch up with the others at the academy."


    [[ Item recieved!


    Item: Potion of Mana


    Description: contains a large amount of mana that can be absorbed after ingesting.]]


    "Thank you, my Lord." Riven smiled brightly, internally cheering that he managed to squeeze another item out of the Count.


    "It''s fine," the count gave a chuckle when he saw Rivens happy face and lead them out of the treasury. "Now take your things back to your room and get some rest. Your brother should return in the next few days and have more details about when you start the academy."


    "Okay, thank you my Lord." Riven bowed slightly and exited the office, speed walking down the hallways until he finally got to his bedroom.


    Once inside he carefully lay his items on the bed and then broke into a dance.


    "Yes!" He cheered as he looked down at the items on the bed. He didn''t even know which one to start off with first.


    Picking up the staff again he called up the items description once more.


    "System, it says the staff is broken. How can I fix that?" I asked as I examined the staff closer.


    [[This staff can be gradually repaired whilst absorbing a high quantity of fire mana. Please find an area that is dense with fire mana to repair the staff faster.]]


    "Well, I knew it wasn''t going to be easy." Riven sighed as he put the staff back down. "Is there any areas of fire mana around here?"


    [[All items or areas of high mana for different elements are strictly controlled by the academy.]]


    "Ah, I thought so." Riven sighed. "I''ll guess I''ll just have to wait till I get to the academy to repair it then."


    Not letting it dampen his mood, he picked up the book and opened it to the first page.


    [[You have obtained a skill book!


    Skill Book: The Seven Trials of Ignis, first trial.


    Unlock Skill: Heat Seeking Fireball - Fireballs can now lock onto chosen heat sources. (Can be evolved)


    Would you like to learn this skill?


    (Yes/No)]]


    [[ Warning! This Advanced Skill will take 24 hours to download.]]


    Riven quickly pressed yes without bothering to read the rest of the text after the (Yes/No) and all of a sudden his body began to hover above the ground whilst a strange orange glow started to radiate from his skin.


    The book began to tremble and flicker and then rose to hover in front of him, threads of orange light forming between the two.


    [[Downloading the Skill Book: The Seven Trials of Ignis, first trial.


    1%¡­ Time remaining: 23 hours 59 seconds]]


    What?! It was going to take 24 hours? Damn it, he got too excited and accepted it without reading it first. If he''d known it would take this long he would have let his servants know not to disturb him - and he would have eaten more too!!


    A hum of mana filled the air and a blinding searing pain began to fill Rivens head. He let out a sharp groan as knowledge of runes relating to the skill book began to flood his mind.


    "Young master? Are you all right?" A knock at his door sounded. "I thought I heard you shout."


    Silence filled the room until another wave of pain wracked the inside of Rivens mind and he let out another groan. He tried to open his mouth and tell the servant he was fine but it seemed he had no control of his body.


    "I''m coming in, please excuse me!" The servant called, sounding worried. She opened the door and gasped when she saw the floating, glowing state of Riven. "Oh my - oh my god!" She cried as she scrambled out from the room.


    What the-? Did he look that scary?


    Pain continued to ravage his mind and his body began to groan and sob on its own as if it was reacting to the pain.


    "Riven!" He heard the count yell from outside and then watched as his father and sister burst into the room. "You¡­" The counts eyes widened and he froze as he took in his son floating in the middle of the room.


    The progress bar got to 3% and needle pricks began to burn throughout his body as the skills movement was being woven into his muscles. A wave of mana exploded from Riven as the skill continued to download and the servants in the room let out a cry of fear.


    "He''s actually learning it! Ha ha!" The count laughed triumphantly as he watched his son. "Quick, help me form a barrier!" He called out to Ember and she dragged her eyes off of Riven to help.


    The count sat on one side of Riven whilst Ember sat on the other. The held up their hands and small magic circles began to glow in the air, slowly forming a glowing orange bubble around Riven.


    "How is he doing this?!" Ember asked as she continued to hold up the barrier around Riven. "I studied that book for two whole years and couldn''t decipher the runes! He hasn''t even gone to the academy yet!"


    "I''m not sure," the count said, still giddy as he watched his son. "He must of only looked at the book for a few moments before he began to resonate with it! A genius - my son is a genius! Ha ha!"


    Ember bit her lips as she watched her brother, her gaze full of envy and¡­ sadness?


    Riven cried out as it felt like his muscles were being ripped apart and sewn back together again.


    "Father, what are we going to do? Who knows how long it will take for Riven to fully grasp the skill book. It could take days - or weeks!" Ember asked warily.


    "Isn''t it obvious my daughter?" The count grinned as his glowing orange eye never left Rivens face. "We wait."

 Chapter 10 - 10: New Skill

    As seconds turned into minutes and minutes into hours, Riven fell into an almost trance-like state.


    His body was being broken down and reconstructed, reshaped to perfectly align with his new skill. Meanwhile, his mind latched onto the torrent of information flooding into it, absorbing it with unwavering focus.


    The runes that made up this magic circle reminded him of the ones he saw in a Viking movie in his past life. They varied in shape and size and linked together differently in each of the patterns that made up the magic circles.


    Was it a language? Did each of the runes make up a word? Or a letter?


    "Argh!" Riven grunted as a searing pain began to bloom in his chest where his mana heart was located.


    [[ Downloading the Skill Book: The Seven Trials of Ignis, first trial.


    60%¡­ Time remaining: 10 hours 30 minutes 59 seconds ]]


    The hum of mana in the room intensified, accompanied by a mounting, unseen pressure.


    "The mana is increasing - hold strong Ember!" The Count said as Embers hands began to tremble under the weight of the pressure.


    As the skill continued to download into his mind, he could see the inner mechanics of the fire ball and how it was used. It was incredible - just how on earth would he have learned this without the help of the system?


    The hours trickled by and Riven began to feel a pressure building inside of his body. The Mana surrounding them continued to build and a groaning noise could be heard.


    "He''s nearing a breakthrough! My god, it''s only been a day!" The Count exclaimed as stood up on his feet. "I don''t know if I can fully handle the backlash of the mana - evacuate the manor! You too Ember!"


    "Father I can help!" Ember cried as she struggled to stand, her face twisting as she tried to keep the magic circle stable in front of her.


    "Go and make sure you and your mother are safely away - now! This is an order!" The count shouted and Ember whimpered before dropping her hand and running from the room.


    "All is well soon, don''t worry about anything else and concentrate!" The count shouted at Riven. He casted another magical circle beside the one he formed before and it caused the bubble around Riven to grow thicker.


    [[ Downloading the Skill Book: The Seven Trials of Ignis, first trial.


    90%¡­ Time remaining: 30 minutes 59 seconds ]]


    The pressure was building near his mana heart and it felt as if his ribcage was about to crack open. A whooshing sound filled the room and Riven could almost see the glow of the dense mana that began to spiral towards him.


    "Arghhh!" Riven screamed as a blinding light began to burst from his chest.


    "Yes! Ha ha! That''s it!" The count cheered as an invisible wind began to surge through the room, blowing the counts hair out of place.


    [[ Downloading the Skill Book: The Seven Trials of Ignis, first trial.


    98%¡­ Time remaining: 4 minutes 59 seconds ]]


    Rivens body began to move on its own once more, his hands outstretching in front of him as mana began to flood through his veins and towards his fingers.


    A magic circle began to form in front of hands, more detailed than any he had seen yet. The feeling of finally casting a magical spell was euphoric and definitely a feeling Riven would not soon forget.


    "You¡­ you did it." The count said quietly, so quiet that Riven almost didn''t hear it.


    Heat emanated from the magic circle Riven was weaving and it soon became unbearable.


    "Don''t hold back Riven!" The count shouted as the hum of mana built to a crescendo. "Let me see the full extent of my ancestors magic!"


    Rivens mouth opened as he screamed, light streaming from every orifice in his body as the room drew silent.


    And then, the world exploded.


    At least, that''s what it looked and felt like.


    The magic circle Riven formed exploded in a bright orange light and fireballs as big as a basketballs began to shoot out from within.


    "Argh!" The count yelled as he struggled to shield himself from the explosion.


    Fireballs shattered the windows, crashing through the walls and setting the furniture on fire.


    The floating Riven finally lowered to the floor and he collapsed. Just as he was about to hit the floor, the count caught him. The count quickly sent out a series of magic circles and the fire surrounding them was quickly put out.


    [[ Congratulations! You have now learned the skill:


    The Seven Trials of Ignis, First Trial ]]


    Riven groaned as he tried to move but it felt as if he had just ran a marathon.


    "Don''t try to move". The count said as he set Riven down gently beside him. The count leaned back on his hands and looked at the wreckage that was formally Rivens bedroom.


    "I''m sorry¡­ about the room." Riven said quietly as he pulled himself into a sitting position, cringing at the pain the motion brought.


    "Never worry about that." The count said softly. Silence fell on them for a moment before the count spoke again, "In all my years¡­ I never thought I''d get to see one of our ancestors skills. This is¡­ unprecedented. Incredible." He said wistfully. His appearance was dishevelled and his skin smeared with dirt and sweat - but he seemed truly happy.


    "Oh no!" Riven realised something as he began to drag himself towards his charred bed. "My stuff!"


    "Stop! Stop!" The count put a hand out to stop Riven. "I''ve got your items here safe and sound." The count reached into his jacket and pulled out the charred stick and potion bottle and placed them in Rivens hands.


    "Thank you." Riven breathed as he clenched hold of his items tightly. "I think¡­ I''m going to sleep for a while." Rivens voice was barely a whisper as exhaustion weighed down on him.


    "Rest now, I''ll sort everything out so just focus on healing." The count smiled and patted Riven on the back.


    Riven knew that he was safe - there was no way the count was going to let anything happen to someone who could wield his ancestors magic.


    Riven had just become a powerful weapon to the count, one that he was now going to nurture and protect. That meant that Riven could rest easy, at least for now.


    As Riven fell into a deep sleep, the count couldn''t help but feel a mixture of emotions in his chest.


    The wind swept through the now collapsed wall and cooled the counts sweaty skin. He closed his eyes and let out a sigh.


    "Things are changing," the count murmured. First, the undead groups had begun attacking the border, and now his once talentless son was transforming into a formidable mage.


    "I can''t wait to see how far you''ll go." He said as he looked down at his sleeping son. "I guess the child of a dragon is still a dragon after all."


    ¡ªx¡ª


    [[ Announcement! Announcement!]]


    A system window appeared in the darkness of Rivens dreams and his consciousness began to shift.


    [[ System administrator override, teleporting user. ]]


    What the¡­


    Suddenly, Riven was yanked downward, a crushing pressure gripping his mind as he plunged deeper and deeper.


    [[ W//////W/////WARNING! REA////CHING SYSTEM BOUNDA////RIES ]]


    The system window began to glitch and become unreadable.


    Just as Riven thought his head was about to explode, he suddenly came to a standstill and everything became calm.


    "System?" Riven called out to the darkness but was met with silence. He was suddenly reminded of the void he was in before, the same endless inky darkness surrounded him now just as it did then.


    He didn''t understand¡­ was he dead again? No. There was no way! He had finally just learned his first skill, he couldn''t be dead again! He had just been given his second chance at life!


    "System!" Riven cried out, panic beginning to grip his heart. "System! Are you there?!"


    "The system doesn''t reach here, my child." A deep voice spoke and Riven shrank back from it. The voice was ethereal yet terrifying, a sound that Riven had never heard before. It was if a thousand people were speaking all at once.


    "Who-who are you?" Riven asked quietly trying to get some grasp on his surroundings.


    "You have no need to fear me, Abyss Born." The voice said, "I only wish to tell you something - to warn you."


    "Warn me about what?" Riven asked, his voice wary. S~ea??h the ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "On the night of the autumn full moon, the undead will be at their strongest." The voice said and dread filled Rivens stomach. "Beware¡­ the academy¡­ find the relic¡­ Abyss Born." The voice began to fade in and out and before he could ask anymore questions he was suddenly yanked upwards again.


    [[WARNING WARNING WARNING]]


    A red system alert popped up in front of Riven as he continued to fly upwards and Riven felt perplexed. Just what the hell was going on?!


    [[ System stabilised. Re-entering rest mode. ]]


    Before Riven could even react, he was swiftly pulled back into unconsciousness.

 Chapter 11 - 11: Taste of Revenge

    Riven awoke the next morning with a jolt. He bolted upright, scrambling backwards in his bed as he surveyed his surroundings anxiously.


    No darkness.


    Rivens head fell backwards as relief settled over him.


    "I''m not dead." He confirmed quietly and closed his eyes as he tried to settle his racing heart. It seems he was careless yesterday when he accepted learning the skill book without researching what it fully entailed. It worked out in his favour this time but leaving himself so vulnerable in that state for a full day was far too risky.


    Next time, he would be more prepared.


    "Abyss Born." Riven repeated what that dark entity said last night. "What had it said again? Something about the full moon in autumn? And the undead¡­ and a Relic?"


    Riven groaned and scratched his head frustratingly.


    "Well, I guess there''s nothing I can do at the moment. I simply need to continue as I have been doing. I just need to get stronger." Riven decided, dismissing the memory to the back of his mind for now.


    He focused on the new spell he had learned, raising his hand before him as he recalled the sensation of casting magic for the very first time. It was unlike anything he had ever experienced.


    A pure and total rush of euphoria.


    Eager to test out the spell again, Riven got up from the bed and surveyed his surroundings. He was in a different bedroom but it was pretty similar to the last one, even a little more spacious than before. He noticed his broken staff and mana potion sitting on the bedside table. He picked them up and as he tried to think of a place to keep them safe, an idea popped up in his mind.


    "System, do I have an inventory?" He asked as he remembered some of the games he used to play in his previous life.


    [[ Inventory Opened: Capacity 0/100 ]]


    Riven smiled as he saw the notification window. He held up the broken staff and willed it into the inventory.


    [[ You have placed ''Staff of Ignis'' in your inventory. Capacity 1/100 ]]


    He then held up the mana potion and pondered whether he should just drink it now or not. After a moment he shook his head and put it into his inventory also. He just acknowledged that he had to be cautious with this sort of stuff so he needed to take this potion at a more secure location.


    [[ You have placed ''Potion of Mana'' in your inventory. Capacity 2/100 ]]


    Riven called for the maids and quickly cleaned the remnants of last night away and dressed for the day.


    "Has lunch been served yet?" Riven asked as he buttoned his jacket.


    "Not yet young master, it''s just being set up." One of the maids replied, bowing slightly. "We were told to let you rest that''s why we didn''t wake you for breakfast."


    "Ah, it''s fine." Riven waved them off and made his way out the door and down towards the dining room. He walked past his old bedroom and grinned when he saw the damage his caused.


    "Is that really something to be smirking about?" Riven looked up to see his stepmother approaching him with an angry look on her face.


    Riven quickly plastered a fake smile on his face to hide his annoyance. "Stepmother must have seen it wrong, I was simply shocked at the damage."


    "You''re shocked?! You''re the one who caused all that damage! You damn near killed us all!" His stepmother fumed, veins popping in her forehead as she strode closer. Her maids gave each other worried looks behind her back as if they didn''t know what to do.


    "I apologise stepmother." Riven said softly but then as she got closer he leant forward, the mask slipping from his face as he whispered, "I guess I didn''t know my own strength."


    "Wh-What are you doing?! Get away-" She tried to take a step back but Riven grabbed her wrist and held her still.


    "Isn''t that what you said to me on my 7th birthday?" Riven continued to whisper in her ear, his eyes darkening as he recalled the memories he received when he first got here. "Perhaps father mentioned my name to you because it was my birthday¡­ was that why you came to me that night? Was that the reason why you kicked me so hard that you broke one of my ribs?"


    "Y-you!" His stepmother began to tremble in his grasp.


    "Let this be your first warning," Riven whispered, his voice taking on a darker edge. "Now that the count has taken an interest in me, he won''t stand by and let you do as you please. So, if you do anything to annoy me, I will make your life a living hell just as you had made mine in the past."


    "You bastard!" She finally pulled out of his grip and raised her hand backwards to slap him. Riven was about to block her when he saw an opportunity approaching.


    Her hand landed on his cheek with a resounding smack. He clutched his cheek and looked up at his stepmother, making his expression as pitiful as he could.


    "Why¡­ why did you hit me stepmother?" Riven asked, his words thick with false emotion.


    "What-?!" His stepmother began to raise her hand to hit him again but someone caught it just before it connected with Rivens face. She froze and slowly turned her head to see the Count glaring down at her.


    "Just what on earth do you think you are doing?" The Count asked, his tone furious.


    "Please, my Lord, it''s my fault for getting in stepmothers way." Riven said softly whilst still clutching his face.


    "Nonsense!" The count shouted as he threw his stepmothers hand downward making her stumble. "Guards, it seems my wife still hasn''t come to her senses. Take her back to her bedroom and don''t let her leave until I say so."


    "No!" His stepmother cried as two Drakar knights approached and began to usher her and her maids down the hallway. "This is his fault! He made me do it!"


    His stepmothers voice faded away and Riven felt completely satisfied.


    "I apologise again on her behalf," the count cleared his throat and placed a hand on Rivens back as he began to guide them towards the dining room. "I''ll make sure she stays out of sight until you leave for the academy."


    "Thank you, my Lord." Riven smiled softly. "And I''m also sorry about the room. I didn''t expect things would happen the way they did last night." S§×arch* The n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "It''s fine! How were you supposed to know that?" The count laughed happily. "I would have warned you but I didn''t expect for you to understand any of that skill book let alone learn it in one night!"


    They entered the dining room and he saw Ember already sitting at the table, her face pale and her eyes dark with exhaustion.


    "Ember, my dear, I told you to rest today." The count said as he sat down at the head of the table and motioned for Riven to sit to his left.


    "Thank you for your concern father but I''m fine," Ember smiled at the count and then looked at Riven. "How are you today?"


    "Uh¡­" Ember showing concern for Riven left him momentarily surprised. "I''m fine today, thank you for asking sister."


    A genuine smile appeared on her face before it disappeared once more. "I''m glad."


    The count seemed pleased at the interaction between his children and nodded happily before summoning the food to be brought out.


    "I was hoping to ask if there was any sort of training room where I could test out my new spell?" Riven asked as he began to tuck into the succulent roast chicken in front of him. "I was hoping to practice using it before I go to the academy."


    "Of course," the count nodded. "There''s a magically fortified room in the east wing. I''ll take you there after lunch."


    "Thank you, my Lord." Riven smiled, excitement filling body at the thought of being able to use magic again.


    "Is it ok if I come and spectate?" Ember asked after a moment and Riven looked up and met her earnest gaze. "I would love to be able to witness the ancestors magic."


    "Sure." Riven agreed politely and the rest of the meal continued in silence.


    Riven kept glancing over at Ember, confusion filling his mind as he tried to work out why she was being so nice to him all of a sudden. Shouldn''t she be like his stepmother in trying to continue to make sure his life is ruined? She was either a very good actor or was genuinely trying to get along with him.


    Either way, he didn''t fucking care. He was only biding his time here, trying to suck out everything he could from this family before leaving for the academy.


    Then he would begin his plan for revenge.


    They think finally giving him a little kindness and some money will make him forget the fact that they abandoned him whilst he suffered his entire life?


    Not a chance.


    ¡ªx¡ª


    The training room was located at the far side of the east wing of the manor. It was a large iron-encased room that had numerous magic circles carved all over its walls.


    "They make the room essentially fire proof." The count explained as he noticed Riven looking at the magic circles. "It''s so we don''t have to hold back whilst we practice."


    Wow, this really is quite the set up.


    "We will need a target." Riven said as he rolled up his sleeves.


    "There''s a few wooden dummy''s at the end of the room." Ember said as she sat on one of the benches to the side.


    "The skill is a heat seeking fire ball, so I''ll need something that''s living." Riven answered, another cruel plan developing in his mind.


    "Heat seeking?! Incredible." The count said, astonished. "What about a rat? Or a bird? We can easily secure one of those."


    "What happened to Candace?" Riven asked all of a sudden and the counts brow furrowed.


    "You mean the maid?" The count asked and Riven nodded. "She''s still down in the dungeons. I was going to oversee her execution last night but it was delayed due to your skill breakthrough."


    Perfect.


    "Then, why don''t we use her?" Riven asked, his face expressionless as he continued to speak. "If she is to die anyway, isn''t it only right that I should be the one to do it? I was the one who suffered at her hands after all."


    The count examined Riven for a moment, as if seeing him in a new light. Something like approval settled on his features as he nodded.


    "If that''s what you wish, I will allow it." The count said and sent some knights to retrieve her.


    It was only a short while before the knights reappeared with Candace being dragged behind them.


    "Please my Lord, this is unjust!" Candace was still claiming her innocence as they threw her foward. "I was only doing what I was ordered!"


    "Father¡­ isn''t this a little too much?" Ember asked and Rivens jaw clenched.


    "This isn''t a time for you to comment, daughter." The count said. "The punishment should of course be given out by the victim."


    "But father-" Ember began to argue but the count cut her off.


    "Enough." The count commanded. "If you don''t agree then you may leave."


    Ember pressed her lips together and then bowed her head in defeat.


    "You can start whenever you''re ready." The count said. "If it gets too much, just stop and let me take over."


    Ha! As if I''d let you ruin this.


    Riven nodded to the count and then took a few steps forward. He looked down at the cowering Candace and smiled, taking in her pitiful appearance.


    "If you don''t wish to die," Riven said as he outstretched his hand. "Then run."


    A hum of mana began to fill the room as Riven began to form the magic circle he had learned yesterday.


    "It''s so complex." Ember whispered in wonder as she and the Count watched the glowing runes in front of Riven.


    Candace scrambled to her feet as she watched the magic circle in horror. Heat rippled out from the runes and Riven revelled in the feeling of mana flooding through his veins.


    "No!" Candace screamed as his mana built to a crescendo and his magic circle erupted into a fiery ball that shot forward. Riven stumbled back a few steps from the recoil and watched in amazement as the ball of fire curved to the left as it followed Candace.


    "It turned!" The count yelled. "The fireballs path curved - I''ve never seen anything like it!"


    The ball finally caught up to Candace and she screamed as it slammed into her back and she erupted into an explosion of flames.


    Her screams of agony filled the room and Riven sighed and closed his eyes. It almost looked as if he was enjoying listening to the radio rather than the wails of a dying woman.


    "It seems your mana is still lacking in strength to be able to take someone out in one hit," the count commented. "But once you start at the academy, you''ll be a first circle mage in no time."


    "Yes, my lord." Riven smiled.


    "Arghhhh!!" Candace continued to scream, and the smell of burning flesh filled the air.


    "Allow me to finish this father," Ember said and took a few strides forward before Riven stopped her.


    "I''ll do it." Riven stated and took one of the swords from the weapons rack to the side of the room and made his way over to the flailing woman.


    He raised the sword up and burned the scene in front of him to his memory. If the original owner of this body was still out there somehow seeing this, i hope this at least satisfies your need for revenge even a little bit. It''s only a taste of what''s the come.


    The mask slipping from his face, his expression twisted into one of pure hatred and wrath. He swung his sword down, the sickening thud echoing through the room as the screams finally fell silent.

 Chapter 12 - 12: Brother Returns

    The silence after Candace''s death was deafening. The only sound remaining was the faint crackling of embers as the last of the flames flickered out, leaving behind a charred corpse. The air was thick with the stench of burnt flesh, and yet, Riven did not move. He stood there, blade still embedded in what remained of the woman who had tormented him, feeling the weight of his own satisfaction settle over him like a warm blanket.


    He had expected to feel more¡ªrelief, triumph, perhaps even joy¡ªbut instead, all he felt was the dull embers of something deeper, something darker. This death seemed to stir something lying dormant within him - something that would soon crave more.


    The Count clapped once, slowly, his sharp eyes locked onto Riven with something that resembled pride. "You''ve done well."


    Riven turned his gaze to the Count, his expression carefully schooled back into neutrality. "Thank you for letting me seek my own justice." he replied evenly.


    The Count gave nodded before gesturing to the knights, who immediately stepped forward to dispose of Candace''s remains.


    Riven watched over the scene in a daze. He was still absorbing everything¡ªthe sensation of magic coursing through his body, the sheer force of the spell and the way the fire had hunted Candace down. The skill book he had absorbed was powerful, but it was clear his body and mana heart had yet to catch up to its demands.


    Across the room, Ember stood motionless.


    Unlike the Count, she wasn''t watching him with approval. No, her expression was unreadable, her hands gripping the edges of her dress tightly. Something in her gaze unsettled him¡ªnot fear, not disgust, but something far more complicated.


    "Is something wrong, sister?" Riven asked, voice deliberately smooth.


    Ember blinked, as if snapped out of a trance. "No," she murmured, before looking away. "I simply didn''t expect you to¡­ enjoy it so much."


    Riven tilted his head, studying her. "Should I have hesitated?"


    "No," Ember said quickly, her expression conflicted. "I just¡­ never mind."


    Interesting.


    Before Riven could push further, the Count clapped his hands together. "Enough for today. You''ve proven your ability, Riven. Rest and recover your mana."


    Riven inclined his head. "Thank you, my Lord."


    The Count dismissed the knights and strode towards the exit, but Ember hesitated before following. She cast one last look at Riven, something flickering in her gaze, before she turned and walked away.


    Riven watched her go, filing away his observations for later.


    For now, there were much more pressing matters.


    He looked down at his hands¡ªat the faint glow of residual mana lingering beneath his skin. He had power now. Not enough, not yet, but soon.


    And when that day came, no one¡ªnot the Count, not his stepmother, not this entire wretched household¡ªwould be able to stand in his way. Sear?h the N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    With one final glance at the bloodstained floor, Riven turned and walked out of the training hall.


    Step by step, towards the future he would carve with his own hands.


    Towards vengeance.


    ¡ªx¡ª


    The week passed in a blur of magic, exhaustion, and relentless training.


    Riven spent every waking moment in the fortified training room, pushing his magic to its limits. The first day had been brutal¡ªhis body still weak from the toll of the skill book. His mana reserves drained quickly, his control wavered, and more than once, his spells fizzled out before reaching their target.


    But he refused to stop.


    By the second day, he could summon the fireball faster. By the third day, he learned to control its speed. By the fourth day, he could make it curve mid-air, adjusting its trajectory with only a thought. By the fifth and sixth day, he started experimenting with rats caught from outside the manor, locking and targeting them with his fire ball. The rats moved a lot faster than Candace had and so it proved more strenuous to keep the fireball locked onto them.


    Tomas came and went throughout the week, offering many different high energy snacks and foods and Riven was actually greatful for it. Even though it had been merely two weeks since he freed himself from that hellish room and began eating decently, his body was already starting to fill out.


    The Count would also occasionally observe, nodding in approval but offering little instruction. Riven knew why¡ªthe man wanted to see what he was capable of without guidance.


    Ember, however, was a different story.


    She came to watch him every day, silent yet ever-present. At first, Riven ignored her, assuming it was curiosity. But as the days went by, her expression became harder to read. Was it concern? Hesitation? Something else?


    He didn''t care.


    His only focus was growing stronger.


    By the seventh day, he stood in the center of the training room, drenched in sweat, surrounded by the charred remains of countless rats. His mana was nearly depleted, his limbs ached, but satisfaction burned in his chest.


    He was improving. Fast.


    And just in time.


    Because his brother had finally returned home.


    "What has happened since I left for the academy, father?!" Riven heard his brother, Cole, shout from inside the office. "Mother has been locked in her room and now you''re letting Riven execute maids in the training room?!"


    Rivens eyes narrowed on the closed door in front of him as he hesitated. The servant was about to announce his arrival to the count but Riven held a hand up to stop him.


    Let''s hear what else he has to say first.


    "Some things have occurred since your departure," the count sighed. "Candace fully confessed to your brother''s torment and it was revealed that your mother was behind everything. She even kept his allowance to herself."


    "What does that matter?" Cole''s tone was harsh and cold as he spoke. "Mother is still heart broken by the fact that you had a child to that woman. She is your wife after all - don''t let something like this ruin mother''s life."


    "Ha! You knew about what she was doing, didn''t you?" The counts voice grew angrier and a resounded thud sounded in the room followed by a grunt. "It seems that all my family is sneaking around behind my back!"


    "I-I apologise father. I''ve crossed the line." Coles voice was quieter. "I''ve just seen how much mother has suffered since that child was born."


    Rivens hands fisted and his jaw clenched, the air growing thick around him as darkness unfurled in his chest.


    She has suffered? Ha!


    Riven wanted to explode with anger at the words uttered by his so called brother. The previous owner of this body had been the one to suffer all his life - and because of what? Because the count had an affair? How could he be responsible for that?


    How dare he so casually play off the fact that his stepmother had him tortured and tormented every singled day!


    "Ha¡­" the count sighed. "I''m just keeping her in her room until this all settles down. Your little brother is very understanding after all."


    "Is that so." Cole grumbled. "I still think this is all a mistake. Our reputation will suffer once everyone discovers there''s an illegitimate child in the family."


    "Our reputation might suffer at first, but it will soon sore." The count said, excitement leaking into his tone. "He has learned the first trial of Ignis."


    "What?!" Cole yelled and that''s when Riven motioned for the servant to announce his arrival. Riven took a deep breath and schooled his expression back to neutrality.


    "Ah, Riven, come on in and take a seat." The count said with a smile as he motioned for Riven to take a seat opposite Cole. "Cole has just arrived from the academy with your acceptance letter. You''ll need to do a small exam once you get there so they can determine your rank, but from what I''ve seen you will do just fine."


    Riven could feel Cole''s glare but ignored him as he continued to look at the count.


    "That''s fine." Riven nodded. "When do I leave?"


    "The new term starts in two weeks." The count explained. "You''ll leave with your siblings - they''ll help you get settled."


    Somehow Riven felt like that wouldn''t be the case.


    "You," Cole said to Riven. "Did you really learn the first trial of Ignis?"


    "Do you not believe your father?" Riven chuckled and Cole''s jaw clenched. "Yes, I did."


    "I saw it with my own eyes," The count confirmed with a chuckle. "It was unlike any fireball skill I''d ever seen!"


    "How?" Cole asked through clenched teeth. "Generations have passed and no one has been able to understand that skill book! So why you of all people-!"


    "Cole," the count warned in a low tone and Riven tried to hide the smirk on his face by looking downwards.


    "But it doesn''t make any sense!" Cole yelled, "He hasn''t even started the academy yet! Not even taking into account that he''s not a pure descendant of the Drakar line!"


    "COLE!" The counts yell rumbled through the office and Cole paled a little.


    "It''s fine, my lord." Riven said softly, still not looking up. "It''s natural for brother to feel this way. I don''t take his words to heart."


    "Still Cole, you should know when to hold your tongue!" The count yelled and then sighed. "You''re both dismissed. Cole go cool off somewhere."


    They both left the office and Riven began to make his way towards the training room - eager to release some of this anger that was rising inside of him.


    "Stop." Cole ordered from behind him but Riven pretended not to hear as he continued forward.


    "I said stop!" Cole shouted and grabbed Rivens arm, pulling him to a stop. "When I tell you to do something - you should listen."


    "What do you want?" Riven asked, his eyes focusing on the hand that still was gripping his arm.


    "I know you feel on top of the world at the minute, but don''t forget that you are nothing." Cole said cruelly in a low tone. "Once you get to the academy, your life is going to be over. I will make sure of it."


    "Ah, your true colours are finally coming out." Riven grinned, letting the mask slip from his face. "You''re making me excited to get to the academy and see what you can do."


    "You-!" Cole fumed, his face turning red as his hand squeezed tighter around Rivens arm.


    Although he desperately wanted to get into a fight with Cole, he knew that Cole was more powerful than he was at the moment. From the memories he got from the previous owner of his body, he knew that both Cole and Ember were both just about to reach their second circles - he was no match for them at his current strength.


    "If you hurt me now, how will the Count react? You''ve seen what''s happened to your mother." Riven smirked. "Save it for the academy."


    Riven yanked his arm out of Cole''s grip and continued walking towards the training room.


    "You''re dead Riven! Do you hear me?!" Cole yelled as Riven turned the corner. "As soon as you get to the academy, you''re finished!"


    Riven smirked, a dark glow appearing in his gaze as he muttered the words, "I look forward to it."

 Chapter 13 - 13: Solis Academy

    The days leading up to their departure for the academy were marked by a tense and uneasy truce within the Drakar household. Riven continued his rigorous training, pushing his magical abilities to their limits, while carefully avoiding further confrontations with Cole. Ember remained a silent observer, her inscrutable gaze often lingering on Riven during his practice sessions.


    He decided tomorrow forgo absorbing mana until he got to the academy as the mana was far too sparse in the counts manor.


    On the morning of their departure, the manor was abuzz with activity. Servants hurried to and fro, loading trunks onto carriages and making final preparations. Riven stood by his carriage, adjusting the cuffs of his travel coat, when he felt a presence beside him.


    "Ready for the journey?" Ember''s voice was soft, almost hesitant.


    Riven glanced at her, noting the uncharacteristic uncertainty in her demeanor. "As ready as one can be."


    Ember was someone who confused Riven. She switched from being cold and ignoring him, to shy and almost stalker like. Trying to even think about how many times her personality changed since he came here made his head spin.


    Riven narrowed his eyes on her as her gaze drifted to the horizon. "The academy is¡­ different from home. Challenges await, not just in studies, but in¡­ other aspects."


    "Other aspects?" Riven inquired, raising an eyebrow.


    Ember hesitated, as if weighing her words. "The social dynamics can be complex. Alliances, rivalries, expectations. It''s a world unto itself."


    Riven studied her for a moment. "And where do you fit into this world?"


    A wry smile touched her lips. "I navigate it as best I can. But be cautious, Riven. People will be out to get you."


    Before he could respond, Cole''s voice cut through the air. "Let''s move! We don''t have all day."


    Ember gave Riven a final, meaningful look before turning away. As they boarded the carriages, Riven couldn''t help but repeat Embers warnings inside of his mind.


    "I already know people will be out to get me," Riven said as he looked out of the carriage window. "I''ll just have to make sure I play it safe until I get stronger, just as I have been."


    The journey to Solis Academy was long, the familiar landscape gradually turning more and more dense with buildings and homes. People flooded the streets as they hovered around various market stalls and filed into boutiques and restaurants.


    He opened the carriage window and stuck his head outside to see why they came to a stop.


    His jaw dropped as he saw what lay in front of him. S~ea??h the NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    A huge wall stood in front of them, its surfaced etched with thousands of magic circles and runes. But this was not what drew his attention the most. No. It was the Goliath of a structure that it protected inside.


    Solis Academy commanded the heavens, its massive citadel perched upon a floating landmass wreathed in golden light. Towering spires stretched impossibly high, their walls carved from pale stone that seemed to pulse faintly with mana.


    Suspended around the academy were dozens of floating islands. They were all bound by thick iron chains and every now and again Riven could hear the large reverberating ''clinking'' noise they were making even from being so far away.


    Seeing this floating monstrosity was like anything he had ever seen before. It only confirmed that this world was completely unlike his last.


    Commotion from in front of his carriage drew his gaze and he saw the reason why they had stopped. Lines of carriages filled the cobblestone road before him and he realised they were probably all students, new and old, attending the academy.


    "Young Master, I suggest you start making your way there." The carriage driver said. "It''s probably going to take a few hours before we reach the front of the line."


    Riven gave a small nod and exited the carriage, noticing that some of the other students were doing the same thing.


    "I''ll take care of your luggage and leave it with the staff at the academy." The carriage driver said and then gave a small smile. "I wish you all the luck."


    Riven looked back and saw Ember and Cole exiting the other carriage and decided he wanted to avoid all contact with them if possible. He began weaving through the hoards of carriages and people and the academy grew closer and closer with each step.


    He could tell who were returning students and who were newbies like him from what they wore. The seasoned students wore tailored dark suits similar to what his siblings wore, or enchanted armor, their attire marked with insignias denoting rank and affiliation. In contrast, the newbies moved with a mix of awe and trepidation, their garments plain and normal, their expressions ranging from excitement to outright terror.


    As he reached the towering entrance gates, a ripple of magic passed over him, an unseen force scanning every student that walked through. Riven tensed as he felt the energy probe at his mana heart, but it faded as quickly as it came. Some of the newbies gasped as the sensation washed over them, while others stumbled forward, overwhelmed by the sheer presence of the academy''s enchantments.


    All of a sudden a voice rang out, clear and commanding.


    "All first-year students, report to the main courtyard immediately!"


    A figure hovered above the entrance plaza¡ªquite literally. A man in flowing crimson robes floated several feet off the ground, arms folded behind his back. His sharp, golden eyes gleamed with an almost predatory amusement as he observed the students.


    Riven moved with the crowd, taking in the towering arches and massive marble staircases that led deeper into the academy grounds. The sheer scale of it all was overwhelming, and yet, there was no time to gawk.


    The main courtyard was a sprawling coliseum-like space, its outer walls lined with raised platforms where upperclassmen and instructors observed from above. At the center, several stone circles were carved into the ground, each surrounded by runic inscriptions that pulsed with dormant mana.


    "First-years!" the hovering instructor called, his voice amplified by magic. "Before you can officially enter Solis Academy, you will undergo a practical examination. Your performance will determine your initial placement within the academy hierarchy¡ªand for some of you, whether you will be permitted to stay at all."


    A murmur spread through the gathered students, a mix of fear and excitement crackling in the air. Riven remained still, his mind already clear and focused.


    The instructor''s golden eyes scanned the gathered first-years, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as if he relished the tension in the air.


    "Your trial will be simple," he announced, his voice cutting through the murmurs of anticipation. "You will endure or you will go home."


    A ripple of confusion passed through the crowd, but the instructor continued.


    "Solis Academy does not waste its resources on the weak. Mana is the foundation of power, and only those who can withstand its presence have any right to study within these halls." He raised a hand, and the magic circles embedded in the courtyard flared to life, swirling with golden and violet energy. "You will step into the circle and endure the manas pressure. The longer you endure, the higher your score. The pressure will increase with time. Fail in the first thirty seconds and you will be escorted out immediately."


    A tense silence followed his words. Some students shifted nervously, while others clenched their fists in determination.


    Riven''s fingers twitched. This was¡­ unexpected. He had anticipated combat, spellcasting, something where he could apply skill and tactics. But raw endurance? That was different. He had absorbed some mana already, but whether that translated into resisting mana pressure was another matter entirely.


    The instructor waved his hand, and a name materialized in glowing letters above the central stone circle.


    "Aris Dorel."


    A young man with dark hair and a nervous expression hesitated before stepping forward. As soon as he entered the circle, the runes flared brighter. A visible wave of mana pulsed inward, crashing against Aris like an unseen force. He gasped, his legs buckling slightly, but he gritted his teeth and held firm.


    Seconds passed. Then a full minute. The glow of the runes intensified, and Aris'' breathing grew ragged. He dropped to one knee, trembling under the unseen weight pressing down on him.


    "Thirty-eight seconds," the instructor announced. "Mediocre."


    More names were called. Some students barely lasted twenty seconds before they were forced out, while others managed to hold on for over a minute. Each time, the instructor noted their times with either mild approval or thinly veiled disappointment.


    Then, Riven''s name appeared in the air.


    A hush fell over the students as he stepped forward. His mind was calm, his breath steady. He crossed the boundary of the circle.


    The effect was immediate. A wave of pressure crashed down on him, thick and oppressive, like the air had turned to stone. His muscles locked up for a brief moment, but he forced himself to relax, exhaling slowly.


    The runes pulsed again. More pressure.


    It pressed against his chest, his limbs, even his thoughts¡ªlike the world itself was trying to crush him. But Riven had known pressure before. The trials and tribulations he had survived thus far has meant he has survived countless pressure and pain way worse than this.


    The glow of the runes brightened and the pressure intensified. Students who had already had their turn looked on, their faces showing various degrees of shock or understanding. This was the moment most people gave in.


    Riven didn''t move.


    Another pulse. Another increase.


    His vision blurred at the edges, his bones ached, and sweat gathered at his temples¡ªbut he stayed upright.


    He wasn''t here just to pass - he was here to be better than the rest.


    The pressure spiked again. A lesser student would have collapsed. Riven merely clenched his jaw.


    His mana heart thundered furiously in his chest as it tried to combat the mana pressing down on him.


    A murmur began to spread through the crowd. Even the instructor seemed intrigued now.


    "Two minutes," the instructor announced, his tone no longer indifferent. "Not bad."


    But Riven wasn''t done.


    The pressure climbed once more, a force so dense it felt like it was squeezing the very air from his lungs. His knees wobbled, his breath came in shorter gasps¡ªbut he endured.


    More.


    He willed himself to hold on, even as every fiber of his being screamed at him to surrender.


    The runes pulsed violently now, flaring with unstable energy.


    "Three minutes," the instructor said, his smirk widening. "Impressive."


    At that moment, something cracked. Not physically¡ªhe was still standing¡ªbut he felt it deep within, something shifting in the depths of his mana heart. The pressure wasn''t just external anymore; it was resonating within him, as if something inside him was awakening.


    A warning bell rang through his body. He was at his limit.


    And yet, he wanted to keep going.


    Before he could make that choice, however, the instructor snapped his fingers, and the pressure vanished. The runes dimmed, and the weight disappeared in an instant.


    Riven staggered slightly but remained on his feet, his breath ragged.


    "That''s enough," the instructor said, studying him with a knowing glint in his eyes. "Four minutes. An excellent score."


    There was a moment of silence before quiet murmurs filled the courtyard. Some students looked at Riven with newfound respect. Others with jealousy.


    But Riven didn''t care about their reactions. He was still focused on what he had felt in that last moment. It was almost the same feeling he felt after killing Candace - some dark entity that lay hidden within the very depths of his being.


    Perhaps, the academy would give him more than power - perhaps it would reveal his secrets to him too.

 Chapter 14 - 14: Second Trial

    The murmurs around the courtyard hadn''t settled by the time the next name was called. Even as another student stepped forward, Riven could feel the eyes lingering on him. Some were filled with intrigue, others with disdain, but most were calculating. In Solis Academy, strength dictated status, and Riven had just made his presence known.


    Still catching his breath, he stepped back from the testing circle, his muscles taut from the lingering strain of the mana pressure. Ember''s gaze flicked to him from the crowd, but she said nothing. Cole, on the other hand, looked as if he had swallowed something bitter.


    The trial continued, each student taking their turn, their times displayed for all to see. Some lasted barely a handful of seconds, while others managed a minute or more. A few exceptional cases even surpassed two minutes, but none came close to Riven''s record.


    That is, until another name flashed above the runes.


    "Valis Dain."


    A tall young man strode forward, his platinum blonde hair neatly combed back, his uniform pristine. There was a confidence in his steps, a weight in his presence that made those around him instinctively step aside. Riven narrowed his eyes as Valis entered the circle. Sear?h the n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The moment he crossed the boundary, the runes flared with an intensity unseen before. The mana pressure surged instantly to a level that had taken others a full minute to reach.


    Valis didn''t flinch.


    Seconds passed. Then a full minute.


    His expression remained calm, his posture relaxed. Unlike the others who fought against the pressure, he seemed almost at ease within it. The runes pulsed again, increasing the force, but Valis only sighed, as if mildly inconvenienced.


    At two minutes, students began whispering.


    At three, the murmurs grew louder.


    At four minutes, he turned his gaze toward Riven.


    And smirked.


    With an almost casual roll of his shoulders, Valis shifted his stance¡ªand the runes flared violently, reacting to him. A split second later, the entire courtyard trembled as if the very academy acknowledged his presence.


    Then, just as suddenly, the magic faded. The instructor snapped his fingers, cutting the trial short.


    "Four minutes." His voice was even, but the glint of interest in his golden eyes was unmistakable. "Another exceptional score."


    Valis stepped out of the circle, brushing nonexistent dust from his sleeve before meeting Riven''s gaze once more. There was no arrogance in his expression, nor was there hostility. It was something far more dangerous.


    Recognition.


    Before he could dwell on it, the instructor spoke again.


    "Now that your preliminary endurance has been measured, we will proceed to the second phase of your assessment." He gestured toward the stone rings embedded in the courtyard. "Your performance here will determine your ranking within Solis Academy. Those who prove themselves will rise, and those who fail¡­" He paused, letting his words sink in. "Will not remain."


    A ripple of tension passed through the students. The first trial had been brutal, but this implied something far worse.


    Riven flexed his fingers, feeling the residual ache from the mana pressure. Whatever came next, he would be ready.


    The instructor''s smirk widened. "In the first trial you were tested to see how your fared under the merciless pressure of mana - now we''re going to test your absorption skills."


    With a wave of the instructors hand, a small gateway made of pure brilliant blue light appeared in the centre of the courtyard.


    "Enter in an orderly fashion." The instructor ordered and the students didn''t hesitate before filing into the pulsating gateway. Another rush of mana zapped through Rivens body as he crossed the threshold and he didn''t think he would ever get used to the feeling.


    The gateway led them to a huge clearing surrounded by a dense forest. A hum of mana permeated the air and Riven felt rejuvenated from the first trial just by breathing in the air here.


    "This is one of the islands that surrounds the academy," the instructor explained as the last of the hopeful first years flooded through the gate. "It''s one of the areas that is dense with mana and only students with permission are allowed to come here."


    No wonder Riven felt so refreshed, the mana was so thick and dense here.


    "You will be tested on how much mana you can absorb in five minutes." The instructor announced and a ripple of excitement rushed through the crowd. "This is also a rare opportunity for students so make sure you make the most of it."


    This was great! The mana had been so lacking in the counts manor that he hadn''t really made much progress towards his first circle.


    "Excuse me, sir." A student asked and raised there hand. "Isn''t this island also filled with ascended beasts?"


    "Yes." The instructor confirmed and a fearful chatter began to explode from the crowd. The instructor held up a hand and silenced them. "But there''s a magical barrier set up here so you needn''t worry - as if we would let any first years be gobbled up on their first day." There was a glint to the instructors eyes that made Riven doubtful.


    "We will start with those with the lowest score from the first trial up to the those with the highest." The instructor announced and Riven clicked his tongue in annoyance - he didn''t want to be one of the last to go.


    A student was called who barely withstood the mana pressure before. She sat crossed leg in the centre of the clearing and a small white star shaped glow appeared above her.


    "The colour your star changes to will decide your score. There is white, yellow, orange and red. White being the lowest and red being the highest." The instructor explained and then clapped his hands. "You may begin."


    The girl closed her eyes and a countdown timer for five minutes appeared beside her.


    After three minutes, the star remained white.


    "Why is her glow not changing?" Riven murmured to himself and a student, Aris Dorel he remembered, answered.


    "It''s difficult, especially for first years to get into the meditative state needed to absorb mana." Aris said, confused to why Riven asked such a question. "In reality all of us will only get around one minute to absorb the mana by the time we get into the right state."


    "is that so?" Riven raised an eye brow and Aris gave him a look of sympathy, misunderstanding that Riven didn''t know how to absorb mana.


    The trial continued with many students barely getting their glow to turn yellow and a few getting turning it orange.


    Then, finally, it was Valis''s turn.


    As he strode to the center of the clearing, the murmurs quieted. Unlike the others, he didn''t hesitate to sit, folding his legs in a single fluid motion. The moment he closed his eyes, the air around him shifted.


    The white glow above him flickered, then deepened into yellow almost instantly. Within seconds, it darkened further, turning a rich amber.


    The crowd gasped. No one else had advanced past yellow so quickly.


    Then, as the final minute ticked down, the star pulsed once¡ªand ignited into a deep, blood-red hue.


    Silence.


    Even the instructor''s easy smirk faltered for a fraction of a second before he let out a low chuckle. "Impressive," he admitted. "Red-tier absorption on your first day." He nodded. "It seems the academy has gained quite the talent."


    Valis opened his eyes, exhaled softly, and stood, brushing imaginary dust from his sleeves as he had before. His gaze flicked briefly to Riven, not in challenge, but in quiet expectation.


    It was Riven''s turn.


    He stepped forward, ignoring the weight of the stares on him. He had been anticipating this moment, but now, with Valis''s performance looming over him, the pressure was undeniable. He settled into position, letting his breath steady as the instructor gestured for him to begin.


    The white glow appeared above him. He closed his eyes and then he¡­ grinned.


    "Begin mana absorption." He sent out the command mentally and a resounding digital ''ding'' sounded.


    [[ Absorbing Mana: (+25%)


    (69%)¡­ (70%)¡­ ]]


    Riven wanted to laugh out loud at the ridiculous advantage he now had against the rest of the students. He even had the +25% in absorption rate buff he earned when absorbing mana before.


    The numbers ticked upward in his vision, climbing steadily as mana flooded into him. Unlike the other students, who struggled to enter the right meditative state, Riven''s system-assisted absorption bypassed the need entirely. It was like breathing¡ªno, it was easier than breathing.


    Within seconds, the white glow above him flared, shifting to yellow. The murmurs started.


    Then, it turned orange. The murmurs grew louder.


    And then¡ª


    Ding!


    [[ Absorbing Mana: (+25%)


    (89%)¡­ (90%)¡­ ]]


    A shiver ran down Riven''s spine as the absorption rate accelerated. The surrounding mana, thick and untamed, was drawn to him like a vortex, threading through his veins, strengthening his core. It was intoxicating.


    The star above him pulsed, deepening, darkening¡ªuntil it turned red.


    Stunned silence.


    Then, someone muttered, "Another red?"


    But Riven wasn''t done.


    The star didn''t just settle at red¡ªit brightened, pulsing stronger than Valis''s had. The energy saturating the clearing twisted, drawn toward him in waves, like the island itself was responding to him.


    The instructor, who had remained impassive even during Valis''s turn, finally raised an eyebrow. His golden eyes narrowed slightly, but he said nothing.


    Riven inhaled, feeling his mana core stir.


    [[ Absorbing mana: (+25%)


    (99%)¡­ (100%) ]]


    Ding!


    [[ Mana heart expansion ready. Initiate first circle formation? ]]


    His eyes snapped open.


    The trial hadn''t even ended, and he had already reached the threshold to form his first mana circle. He could push forward, break through now¡ªbut no, that would be reckless.


    He exhaled, allowing the mana to settle within him. He could advance later, in private, where no one could see.


    The timer hit zero.


    The star above him remained red, pulsing with a radiance that was almost too intense. The instructor watched him carefully before finally speaking.


    "Well, well." A slow smirk tugged at his lips. "It seems we have two talents entering the academy this year."


    Riven stood, feeling the weight of the stares on him.


    Valis, still at the edge of the clearing, tilted his head slightly. Then, to Riven''s surprise, he chuckled.


    "Interesting." His voice was smooth, measured. "It seems I won''t be bored this year."


    There was no hostility in his tone¡ªonly curiosity. But Riven knew what it meant.


    Valis Dain had just acknowledged him as a rival.


    And judging by the looks from the other students, the entire academy had just done the same.

 Chapter 15 - 15: Mana Heart Upgrade

    The tension in the clearing was thick enough to cut. Riven held Valis''s gaze for a beat longer before turning away, suppressing the smirk threatening to pull at his lips. He didn''t need to provoke anything further¡ªhis performance had done that for him.


    The instructor clapped his hands, drawing everyone''s attention back to him. "With that, the second trial is complete. Those who reached red-tier absorption¡ª" his gaze flickered between Valis and Riven, "¡ªwill be awarded with one high-tier mana potion for their outstanding display of potential. The rest of you will be ranked accordingly and be given mid to low tier mana potions based on your results."


    A murmur of discontent rippled through the students who had barely managed to change their glow to yellow, but none dared to voice their complaints outright. Strength dictated status after all in this place.


    "Now," the instructor continued, "The third and final trial will take place tomorrow at dawn for those who were successful today. Your results from these tests will determine your standing within the academy, so rest well and good luck." His golden eyes gleamed. "You''ll need it."


    With a casual flick of his wrist, the portal reopened.


    "Dismissed."


    Riven exhaled slowly as students began filing back through the shimmering gateway. He could feel the weight of their glances, the murmurs passing between them as they whispered his name alongside Valis''s.


    He was no longer unknown. Soon, the illegitimate son of house Darkar will the topic on everyone''s lips.


    Riven stepped through the portal, the rush of magic once again tingling across his skin. When his vision cleared, he was back in the main courtyard they had been in before. All the students began to usher towards the main building and he followed along with them.


    He barely took a step forward before a voice cut through the low hum of conversation.


    "It seems you got lucky today."


    Riven turned, finding himself face-to-face with a tall, silver-eyed student. He recognized him immediately¡ªValis, the one he''d nearly matched in the trial. His expression was carefully neutral, but there was an edge to his gaze, a challenge unspoken yet obvious.


    Riven let the silence stretch between them before replying. "Lucky?" He tilted his head slightly, as if considering. "Is that what it really seemed like?"


    Valis''s jaw clenched, but before he could respond, someone else spoke.


    "Oh god, it''s like there''s two Valis''s now. Here I thought one was bad enough."


    A girl with auburn hair approached, arms crossed, an amused smirk playing at her lips. Riven didn''t know her name, but the way others glanced at her in passing told him she was someone important. She was someone who also scored high marks in the trials.


    "Your control was slipping toward the end," she continued, addressing Valis. "Another moment and you''d have collapsed. Not a good look for someone who clearly thinks he''s untouchable."


    Valis exhaled sharply before replying. "Then you were clearing seeing it wrong." He smirked, "And I don''t see how someone who scored lower than me can comment."


    She only shrugged before turning her gaze to Riven. Her green eyes flickered with interest, studying him like he was some puzzle worth figuring out. "You''re new." It wasn''t a question.


    "It''s my first time in the capital." Riven offered blandly, tiring of the conversation between the three. He just wanted to get to his lodgings so he could investigate his ready-to-evolve mana heart.


    "Hm. Impressive, then. Not often someone makes Valis look like he has something to prove." She offered a small nod. "Lucenya Caelmont."


    The name meant nothing to him, but he committed it to memory.


    Actually, he committed Valis and Lucenya''s name to memory because he knew that these were two people he had to surpass first.


    "Riven Drakar," he said simply.


    "Ahhhh." Valis grinned as he clapped his hands together. "You''re the infamous illegitimate son of Count Drakar." Understanding blossomed on Valis''s face as he let out a chuckle.


    "So the rumours are true," Lucenya pondered and Rivens jaw clenched.


    "It seems rumours spread fast amongst the nobles." Riven stated, his voice sharp and harsh.


    Lucenya''s smirk widened. "Oh, faster than wildfire." She tapped a finger against her chin. "Though, I''m surprised you''re here. I thought House Drakar kept its embarrassment locked away."


    Riven''s fingers twitched at his side, but he forced his expression to remain neutral. He''d heard worse. Endured worse. He wasn''t about to rise to the bait.


    Valis, however, seemed thoroughly entertained. "It makes sense now," he mused. "I was wondering how some no-name managed to keep up with me. You may be a bastard, but I suppose Darkar blood still counts for something."


    Riven exhaled through his nose, willing himself to ignore the sharp heat curling in his chest.


    He met Valis''s gaze head-on, allowing a small, knowing smile to creep onto his lips. "If blood was all it took, you wouldn''t have lost to me today."


    Valis''s amusement flickered, just for a second. Lucenya let out a sharp laugh.


    "I like him," she decided, her eyes roving over Riven with approval.


    Riven didn''t respond. He was done with this conversation. With a click of his tongue, he turned away, catching up with the crowd that was disappearing through the doors of the main building.


    Valis didn''t stop him, but his voice followed him as he walked. "We''ll see if you''re still smiling after tomorrow''s trial, Drakar."


    Riven didn''t look back. He didn''t need to. He could feel Valis''s gaze burning into his back, the tension settling between them like a drawn blade. Tomorrow would bring the final trial, and with it, the true test of his abilities.


    He stepped through the grand doors of the academy''s main building, letting the murmurs and footsteps of the other students fade into the background as he made his way towards where the staff were leading them. The halls were lined with shimmering sconces, casting long shadows across the polished stone floor. Ornate banners hung from the ceiling, each embroidered with the sigils of powerful noble houses, he even recognised the banner of Drakar, a dragons head surrounded by a spiral of fire. The sight of them all made his stomach coil and a sour taste filled his mouth.


    A sharp voice pulled him from his thoughts.


    "You, first-year. Over here."


    Riven turned to find a stern-faced man in academy robes standing beside a massive registry book. His uniform was marked with silver embroidery¡ªa detail, he noticed, that all staff wore.


    "Name?" the man asked, quill poised over the pages.


    "Riven Drakar."


    The man barely reacted, though his quill hesitated for half a second before scratching his name onto the list. "Dormitory Wing A, Room 1. You''ll find your assigned uniform and schedule inside. And here," he pulled something from his robes, a similar potion bottle to the mana potion his father gave him. "Your reward for today." S§×arch* The novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Riven gave a short nod as he accepted the bottle and tucked it away in his jacket. He started forward, but the man''s voice stopped him.


    "Best not get comfortable, Drakar. The third trial tends to¡­ thin the ranks."


    Riven met his gaze, searching for mockery or warning. He found neither¡ªonly cold, detached amusement.


    Without a word, he turned and followed the corridor toward the dormitories.


    The halls were quieter here, save for the distant echoes of footsteps from other students settling into their rooms. Riven followed the signs and ascended a few flights of stairs. The rooms here were more spaced out and elegant. He even noticed that the higher he ascended in the academy the more the air grew thicker with mana. Just what were the floors above him like?


    He found his room near the end of the hallway and his eyebrows shot up as he walked inside.


    "Nicer than my bedroom back at the Counts manor." He mused to himself as he crossed the threshold and looked around at the large apartment style room before him. There was a large living area, a small kitchen area, a bedroom with an adjoining bathroom and - to his surprise - a fortified training room. It was much smaller than the one at the counts manor but it was still a relief that he had somewhere to train.


    He entered the bedroom and noticed a trunk at the foot of the bed, likely containing the uniform and supplies he''d been assigned.


    He entered back into the living area, rolling his shoulders as the silence settled around him. Finally, a moment alone.


    He made his way over to the training room and secured the door with the locks on the inside. Now he could do as he pleased without anyone disturbing him.


    He sat cross-legged in the middle of the room and calmed himself before he asked, "System, are you able to tell me what forming the first circle around my mana heart will be like?"


    [[ Upgrading the mana heart is relatively easy the first time a circle formed. Mana is collected from the mana heart and is compressed until it''s then refined and begins to orbit the mana heart. The user may feel uncomfortable but it is relatively pain free.]]


    "How long will it take?" Riven asked, not worried about the pain part.


    [[The upgrade will take 6 hours in total.


    Would you like to proceed?


    (Yes/No) ]]


    "Perfect!" Riven grinned. The trial tomorrow wouldn''t happen until dawn and the sun was only just starting to set at the moment.


    With a deep breath, Riven steadied himself as he prepared himself to step into the next level of power.


    Without hesitation, he selected ''yes.''


    And then the world turned black.


    ¡ªx¡ª


    Rivens vision cleared and all of a sudden he froze. His blood seemed to turn to ice as he recognised his surroundings.


    He wasn''t at the academy anymore.


    He was at the bakery.


    "This bitch is ignoring me!" The gang leader he remembered from his past life was now crouched in front of him and Riven felt his body begin to tremble. "I said, you''ve missed the last few months payment!" The punch came suddenly, Rivens head snapping backwards from the force.


    "Fuck! That hurts!" Riven hissed and that''s when he realised that this wasn''t some twisted dream.


    This was real.


    [[ New mission received: Defeat those who defeated you before.


    Defeated foes: 0/10 ]]


    What the hell was this?! The system told him he would only receive mild discomfort whilst forming the first circle around his mana heart.


    So what the fuck was this?!


    "Hey!" The gang leader grabbed a fistful of Rivens hair and yanked his head back up so they were eye level. "Have you gone mute, bitch?"


    A moment of clarity and realisation settled on Riven as he realised that this wasn''t a punishment - this was an opportunity.


    He wasn''t the same as he was back then.


    Letting the mana coarse through him, he placed his hand securely over the gang leaders face.


    "Fuck you." Riven said through gritted teeth before he unleashed a fireball point blank against the gang leaders face.


    Blood and flesh exploded around them as the gang leader scrambled backwards, howling as he clutched his disfigured face.


    Silence fell upon the bakery and Riven took the opportunity to scramble to his feet.


    "What the hell?!" A gang member shouted. "Fuck, he must have some kind of weapon! Grab him quickly!"


    The members began to reach out for him and Riven reached behind the counter to where he knew his father kept the knives. He grabbed the biggest hand and swung the blade out in front of him, slicing the hand of one of the members.


    "Shit!" The injured one cursed and Riven wished he had enhanced his strength or learnt some fighting.


    Whilst he had the fireball spell, it wasn''t good in close combat like this¡­ or was it?


    As another member lunged towards him he decided to keep using the spell like he did with the leader. Using his hand like some sort of explosive device, he grabbed the members arm and quickly casted the fireball skill. A loud bang filled the air once more followed by a soft thud. The thug yelled as he grabbed at his damaged arm, but when he felt nothing there, his face paled as he looked down.


    There, on the ground beside his feet, was his charred arm.


    "Argh!" The member cried and then the members took an unconscious step back.


    "Thanks," Riven said as he outstretched his arm, dropping the knife behind him."Giving me space actually helps me out a lot."


    He grinned as a multitude of fire balls erupted from his palm, lighting up every corner of the bakery with a brilliant orange glow.


    The gang members screamed as they scrambled around the bakery trying to doge the fiery globes, but the fireballs tracked them down, each of them landing perfect hits.


    Riven didn''t stop releasing the fireballs, he was burning through his mana at an alarming rate but he didn''t care. Even after the gang members long stopped moving, he continued to barrage them with explosions.


    His eyes were alight with satisfaction as blood covered his face and soaked through his hair. The feeling of vengeance, even if this wasn''t real, was euphoric. He tipped his head back with a sigh as a smile curled at his lips, never once stopping the continuous explosion.


    [[Mission complete. Defeat foes 10/10]]


    Something deep within him began to stir again as if woken by the excitement coursing through Rivens body. The darkness inside him shuddered in pleasure, and all of a sudden his surroundings turned dark.


    He was in his training room again, the gang members and their blood now gone and everything returned to normal.


    Riven could see sunlight just beginning to lighten the sky to a purple hue through the fortified windows in the room and his eyes widened. Just how long had he been in that nightmarish place? It seemed like he was only there for a moment but now all of a sudden it was the next day.


    The euphoric feeling of killing those men was still coursing through his blood. His heart, and mana heart, still thundering with excitement.


    That darkness was still there deep inside of him, relishing in Rivens emotions. It began to grow and grow until Riven noticed the room around him beginning to darken.


    [[ Upgrading mana heart:


    97%¡­ 98%¡­ 99%¡­ ]]


    With each percentage that ascended in the system, to room grew darker.


    [[ ERROR. ERROR. ERROR.]]


    Riven flinched at the blaring alarms coming from the system. The shadows that grew around him began to twitch and shiver.


    [[ System administrator override:


    Abyss mana heart is reacting to the administrator.]]


    His heart thundered in his chest and he felt as if it was going to explode. The darkness continued to grow around him, pulsating along with his heart as it began to slide over his skin, caressing his face and body seductively.


    [[ It seems I underestimated how malicious you were.]]


    System? Was the system talking to him?


    Was this the administrator?


    [[ See how the darkness is drawn to you, Abyss Born? It actively seeks you out.]]


    Riven lifted his arm and watched as the shadows nuzzled against his skin.


    "What does this mean? Who are you really?" He asked, his vision becoming blurred by the increasing shadows.


    A chuckle sounded in the room and a woman''s figure made of pure darkness began to form in the shadows. It drew closer and dragged a hand against Rivens chest causing goosebumps across his flesh.


    [[Did you really think forming a circle around your Abyss Heart would be this easy?]]


    The woman stood infront of him, cupping his chin as she forced him to look into the void that was her eyes.


    "What-?!" Rivens eyes widened as her hand drew backwards, her fingers turning into something that resembled talons.


    [[ Endure. ]]


    Her claws dug into his chest with a sickening thud and he yelled as she scooped out his flesh and then repeated the motion over and over as if she was digging through the flesh on his chest. A cracking noise followed by a scream as she passed through his ribs and clutched his mana heart.


    A loud reverberation thundered through the room and the shadows shook from the force. Then all of a sudden they began flooding into his chest and the whole scene reminded him of the time he was in the void.


    The dark woman was also being sucked into his chest, her free hand lifting to touch his cheek affectionately.


    [[We''re finally one, Abyss Born.]]


    As the last of the remnants sunk into his chest, he slumped forward and passed out.

 Chapter 16 - 16: Third Trial

    [[ Wake up! ]]


    Riven gasped, bolting upright, his eyes wild as he scanned his surroundings.


    [[ Finally! I was calling you for ages. ]]


    A groan of relief escaped him as he realized the shadows were gone¡ªhe was still alive. But what the hell had happened to him? His chest ached as he struggled to his feet. He hesitantly lifted his shirt, half-expecting to find a gaping hole.


    But there was nothing.


    [[ You''re welcome. Fixing you and cleaning up the blood was quite difficult, you know. ]]


    "Who the hell are you?" Riven rasped, his voice hoarse. His head throbbed, a dull pain pulsing from the countless system windows that flooded his vision.


    [[ I''m your system. I upgraded when you became a first-circle mage. ]]


    "Bullshit." His teeth clenched. "You''re that administrator¡ªthat dark thing that tore through my chest."


    [[ Look, it''s too complicated to explain right now. I''ll tell you later. ]]


    "Eh?! Tell me now!" Riven snapped, irritation flaring.


    [[ You''ll be late for the third trial if you keep arguing. ]]


    Riven''s breath caught. "Wha¡ª?" He spun around, eyes widening as he saw the sun cresting the horizon. "Shit!"


    He bolted, yanking on his new uniform as he sprinted out the door, not even bothering to close it behind him. The halls were empty as he rushed down the stairs and toward the main courtyard.


    Only when he spotted a group of students gathered near the academy entrance did he exhale in relief.


    He made it.


    The courtyard was packed, a sea of anxious and excited faces. His breathing was ragged, muscles sore from the mad dash. He mentally reminded himself that he need to start working out after today.


    "Good morning, students."


    The voice was unmistakable. The same instructor from yesterday stood before them, his crimson robes billowing, just as imposing as before.


    "Those of you standing here have successfully passed the first and second trials. That alone is an accomplishment¡ªbut it does not secure your place at the academy." His sharp gaze swept over them. "Today''s trial is the final assessment. It will test your comprehension ability."


    He turned away and raised his hands. A brilliant white glow radiated from his palms as intricate magic circles formed in the air. Riven''s eyes narrowed. Even at a glance, he could tell that the complexity of that spell was immense.


    What circle was this guy? Fourth? Fifth?


    "Once you step through this portal," the instructor continued, "you will be transported to separate rooms where an academy staff member will oversee your trial."


    With a final flourish, the spell completed. A massive, gleaming portal hovered before them.


    One by one, students stepped through¡ªsome brimming with excitement, others hesitating.


    Riven took a deep breath and stepped forward.


    The world shifted.


    When he opened his eyes, he was in a small, empty room. Dark wooden floors, pale walls, and nothing inside except a single, unassuming box resting at its center.


    "Welcome, Riven Drakar." A soft voice spoke from behind him.


    He turned sharply. A petite woman stood before him, clad in flowing gray robes. A black silk blindfold covered her eyes.


    "I am Sana, an acolyte of the Great Solis Library. I will oversee your third trial."


    Riven straightened instinctively. There was something about her presence¡ªan unspoken weight of authority.


    [[ Ugh, not these old coots again. ]]


    Riven''s brow twitched at the system''s muttering, but he held his tongue.


    Sana stepped forward. "I assume you are aware of the kingdom''s recent troubles?"


    "You mean the undead attacks?"


    She nodded solemnly. "Their numbers grow daily, and their attacks show no signs of stopping. That is why the academy is accepting all those who possess a mana heart this year. Our forces are dwindling¡ªwe need mages."


    She gestured towards the box. "Which brings us to your trial. This box is linked to the Solis Library, where copies of every skill book in existence are stored. It will scan your mana heart and grant you a skill book tailored to you. Your trial is simple: learn that skill. You will be evaluated on the rank of the skill and how efficiently you learn it."


    Riven blinked. "So¡­ I get a free skill?"


    "Yes. However, the skill''s quality is not guaranteed."


    Riven nodded. ''I can still use the system to learn this, right? You''re not going to screw with it?''


    [[ I''ll let you use the system if you promise to listen to me after this trial. ]]


    ''Fine.'' Riven exhaled. As long as he passed, he didn''t care.


    "When you are ready, place your hand on the box."


    Riven stepped forward and rested his palm atop the surface.


    A hum of mana filled the room. Heat pulsed beneath his fingers.


    [[ Oh, I have an idea! You''re gonna love me for this! ]]


    A crackle sparked in the air. Riven stiffened as a sliver of shadows slithered from his fingers¡ªseeping into the box.


    The box trembled violently. The heat beneath his palm flared, growing searing hot. A loud thud echoed from within as dust trickled from its edges.


    Sana tilted her head, expression unreadable. The box stilled. The warmth vanished.


    "You may open it," she instructed.


    Riven unlatched the lid and carefully reached inside.


    A small, dark book met his touch. Its black leather cover was tattered and worn, its pages aged and crumbling.


    Sana''s posture stiffened.


    "You¡­" Her voice dropped, suddenly wary. "Who are you?"


    Riven frowned. "What do you mean? I''m Riven Drakar."


    "You¡­ no, never mind." She hesitated before sighing. "You may begin learning your skill whenever you are ready."


    Riven was confused, but he didn''t have time to dwell on it. He had to pass the trial.


    Carefully, he opened the book.


    [[ You have obtained a skill book!


    Skill Book: Puppeteer of the Dead


    Unlock Skill: Summon a minion of the dead (Can be evolved)


    Would you like to learn this skill? (Yes/No) ]]


    Riven''s stomach twisted. Puppeteer of the Dead?


    This¡­ didn''t look good. With all the undead activity lately, wouldn''t this raise suspicion?


    ''System, what the hell did you do?!''


    [[ I may have tweaked a few things. Bypassed security and made sure you got the rarest book possible. ]]


    ''Wait. So you didn''t choose this specifically?''


    [[ No, no! I just ensured whatever you were destined to get would be priceless. Aren''t I great? ]]


    Riven sighed, rubbing his temple. ''You did good. Thanks.''


    Silence. Then¡ªa quiet, almost bashful giggle echoed in his mind.


    Shaking off the odd feeling, he turned to Sana. "Is there a time limit for learning the skill?"


    "There is none."


    Relief washed over him. At least he didn''t have to rush.


    He opened the book once more and began to focus on the rushed scribbled writing inside.


    [[Skill Book: Puppeteer of the Dead


    Unlock Skill: Summon a minion of the dead (Can be evolved)


    Would you like to learn this skill? (Yes/No) ]]


    He took a deep breath and selected ''Yes.''


    The moment he did, the familiar sensation returned. He floated into the air, the book hovering before him, dark threads of light linking them.


    [[ Downloading Skill Book: Puppeteer of the Dead.


    1%¡­ Time remaining: 6 days 23 hours 59 minutes 55 Seconds]]


    A week?!


    Shock hit him before a searing pain splintered his mind. Images flooded in.


    [[ Gateway connecting¡­ Connection secure¡­ Transporting¡­ ]]


    Riven was transported once more, the room around him blurring as he was pulled somewhere else.


    When everything settled down, his vision cleared and he could see he was standing in some sort of village.


    "They''re here! Ring the bell quickly!" He heard panicked shoutings coming from the town folk as they rushed over to the centre of the square beside Riven. They pulled back the large rope secured to the bell and began to ring it loudly.


    "They''re here! The undead are here! Hide!" The men shouted as they continued to frantically ring the bell.


    Frantic cries arose from everywhere as people rushed to their homes and began bordering up their doors and windows.


    Riven''s heart pounded. This wasn''t just a test anymore¡ªthis felt real. Too real. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and fear, and the cold wind carried the distant groans of the undead.


    [[ Whoa. I wasn''t expecting this. ]]


    ''You and me both,'' Riven muttered internally, his gaze darting around. His body still ached from the skill download, but he forced himself to focus. If this was a part of learning the skill, then there had to be an objective.


    He turned to one of the men still ringing the bell. "Where are they coming from?"


    The man barely spared him a glance, his hands trembling on the rope. "North gate! They broke through the outer barricades! We don''t have enough fighters to hold them back!"


    Riven cursed under his breath and ran toward the northern side of the village. As he reached the outskirts, the sight before him sent a chill down his spine.


    Dozens of undead staggered forward, their hollow eyes locked onto the village like starving wolves. Some wore tattered remnants of armor, while others had rotting flesh barely clinging to their bones.


    At the front was a figure unlike the rest¡ªa knight in blackened, rusted plate, his skeletal fingers gripping a massive, chipped sword. Unlike the others, he didn''t move mindlessly. His gaze met Riven''s, and for a moment, a strange recognition flickered in his hollow sockets.


    [[ 12%¡­ Time remaining: 6 days 3 hours 37 minutes 32 seconds ]]


    Riven clenched his fists. Too slow.


    But it did confirm his suspicions. Here in these dreamlike states caused by magic or the system, time moved differently. Time moved faster in the outside world than it did in this place, so he just had to hang on until the countdown was complete.


    A few villagers with makeshift weapons stood between the undead and the town. Their expressions were grim and Riven could see the fear in their eyes. They wouldn''t last long.


    ''System, can I use even a fraction of the skill right now?''


    [[ Hmm¡­ I can force an early access version, but it''ll be weak. ]]


    ''I''ll take what I can get.''


    A sharp, static-like jolt ran through his body as the system responded.


    [[ Emergency Override: Partial Skill Activation Unlocked ]]


    [[ Skill: Puppeteer of the Dead (Incomplete)


    Effect: Allows control over a single recently deceased corpse for 30 seconds. ]]


    Riven exhaled. Not much, but better than nothing.


    His eyes darted to a fallen villager near the barricade¡ªa young man, no older than Riven himself, a sword still clutched in his lifeless grip. He hesitated for only a second before reaching out.


    The air around the corpse shimmered. Shadows coiled around its limbs like ghostly threads.


    [[ Command Input: Awaken ]]


    The dead man jerked violently before stumbling to his feet. His dull, lifeless eyes locked onto Riven, awaiting orders.


    The villagers gasped.


    "H-he''s a necromancer!" someone whispered.


    Riven ignored them. "Charge," he commanded.


    The corpse lurched forward, sword raised. It wasn''t fast, but it wasn''t mindless either. It met the nearest undead, clashing steel against brittle bone.


    For thirty seconds, Riven''s puppet fought with mechanical precision, cutting down three lesser undead before its movements faltered. The shadows unraveled, and the corpse crumpled.


    Not enough.


    The armored knight in the distance tilted his head, watching. Then, for the first time, he moved¡ªlifting his rusted greatsword and pointing it directly at Riven.


    Challenge accepted.


    Riven set his jaw. If this was part of the trial, then he''d pass it no matter what.


    The undead knight stepped forward, his heavy boots crushing the brittle bones of the fallen. A deep, hollow growl echoed from within his armour as he raised his sword.


    The villagers behind Riven murmured in fear. "W-we''re doomed¡­"


    Riven wasn''t so sure.


    [[ 15%¡­ Time remaining: 5 days 21 hours 18 minutes 10 seconds ]]


    The skill was still downloading, but at this rate, he''d be long dead before he could fully complete it. He needed more time.


    "System," he muttered under his breath. "Any way to extend the control time of my puppet?"


    [[ Hmm¡­ if I divert some of your mana reserves, I can stabilise the binding for an extra 10 seconds. ]]


    "Do it."


    [[ Warning: This will temporarily weaken your physical body. ]]


    Riven didn''t hesitate before agreeing again. A wave of exhaustion hit him as the corpse he had revived twitched violently before settling into a steadier stance. He clenched his fists. If he had to burn through all his mana to keep the dead fighting then so be it.


    The dark knight fixated on him once more, a slight pause to his steps.


    Then he dashed forward with an unnatural speed, his great sword swinging in a brutal arc.


    Riven barely rolled to the side as the blade slammed into the ground, sending debris flying. He coughed feeling the shockwave rattle his bones.


    That strength - it wasn''t normal.


    [[ That''s a Deathbound Knight. They only form when a warrior dies carrying deep regrets. Stronger than the normal undead and a real pain to deal with. ]]


    ''Tell me something I don''t know,'' Riven shot back, already scanning for options. He outstretched his hand trying to use his fireball skill but nothing happened.


    [[ This episode is linked to the Undead Puppeteer skill book. No other skills are gonna work here dummy. ]]


    "Damn it!" Riven cursed as he locked eyes with the Deathbound Knight once more.


    "System, can I bind more than one corpse at a time?"


    [[ Normally not until you''ve evolved the skill¡­ but since you''re special, I might be able to bend the rules. You''d be pushing your limits though. ]] S~ea??h the N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Do it."


    Another jolt of energy left his body and shadows leapt towards two more fallen villagers. Their bodies convulsed before staggering to their feet, eyes glazed over as dark threads of mana wove through them.


    The Deathbound Knight began to move once more. He raised his sword high, the air around him distorting with sheer mana pressure.


    Riven knew this attack would obliterate him.


    "Go!" He shouted.


    His three undead puppets surged forward, weapons raised. The knights blade fell in a sweeping arc, cleaving through the first puppet instantly. But the second landed a slash against his exposed ribs and the third drove a spear into his back.


    The knight staggered.


    Riven didn''t waste the opening. He lunged forward, gripping a fallen sword and plunging it towards the knights exposed throat.


    But before the blade could connect, the knight caught it.


    With one hand.


    Rivens eyes widened.


    The knight twisted the blade out of Rivens grasp and swung the flat of his great sword towards him.


    Riven barely had time to register the impact before he was sent flying. His vision blurred as he crashed into the dirt, pain erupting from his ribs.


    The knight stalked towards him, dragging his sword across the dirt.


    Riven spat blood and forced himself up. His head pounded and his body ached, but he wasn''t going to give up.


    He wiped his mouth, taking in the battlefield. The villagers had fully retreated, leaving only him and his three faltering puppets against the Deathbound Knight. His mana reserves were running dangerously low, and the skill download was still crawling forward. He wouldn''t last long like this.


    ''System, I need another advantage. Now.''


    [[ Well, you''re already using more puppets than you should, so I could push the bindings further¡ª ]]


    ''No, not enough.'' Riven''s mind raced. ''There has to be something in this skill book I haven''t tapped into yet.''


    [[ Oh, so now you trust me to make adjustments? You wound me. ]]


    ''Shut up and do it.''


    A static shock surged through his body.


    [[ Override: Unlocking hidden Feature - Vitality Drain. ]]


    [[ Effect: Consume vitality to stabilize undead minions for a longer period. Side effects may include dizziness, exhaustion, and possible death. ]]


    Riven groaned. ''Possible death?!''


    [[ Don''t be a baby. I didn''t say the vitality had to come from you, did I? ]]


    Instantly understanding what the system meant, his eyes locked on one of the deserting villagers and Riven smirked.


    ''Drain him dry.'' Riven sent out the command as he extended his hand towards the villager.


    A dark tendril of energy shot from Riven''s palm, latching onto the man''s back. The villager jerked mid-step, his body seizing as wisps of life force drained from him, funneled directly into Riven''s puppets.


    The moment the energy connected, his undead minions stabilized. Their sluggish movements sharpened, and the shadows coiling around them thickened. One even straightened, grip tightening around its weapon as if recalling a fragment of its past life.


    The Deathbound Knight paused.


    It was subtle, but Riven caught it¡ªa flicker of hesitation, the faintest shift in its posture.


    It recognized something.


    Or¡­ it recognized him.


    The villager collapsed with a strangled gasp, his body drained but alive¡ªbarely. Riven ignored the horrified stares of the few remaining townsfolk. It''s not as if this was real anyway.


    He just wanted the damn skill. Especially now that he''s got a taste of how powerful it is.


    The Deathbound Knight slowly lifted its greatsword again, but this time, there was something different in its stance¡ªless mindless aggression, more¡­ purpose. It was watching him now, truly watching, as if trying to remember something long buried beneath the decay.


    Riven clenched his fists. His minions were stronger, but the knight was still the biggest threat on the battlefield. If he didn''t find a way to finish this quickly, he''d be overwhelmed.


    His three undead fighters circled the knight cautiously, no longer lurching like clumsy puppets but moving with a predator''s grace. The stolen vitality had sharpened their reflexes, allowing them to strike in unison¡ªone from the left, another from behind, and the third lunging straight for the knight''s throat.


    The knight responded with terrifying efficiency. His blade flashed, severing the first puppet''s arm before kicking the second one back with bone-cracking force. The third managed to graze his armor, but the knight barely reacted.


    And then, for the first time, he spoke.


    "You¡­ bear the mark¡­"


    Riven froze.


    The knight''s voice was low, guttural, like a dying man''s last words. The words sent a chill down his spine, not just because the undead had spoken, but because there was weight behind them. Recognition.


    "What mark?" Riven demanded.


    The knight''s empty sockets locked onto him, unreadable yet filled with something unspoken. A memory? A warning?


    "You should not exist."


    And with that, the Deathbound Knight slammed his greatsword into the ground. A shockwave erupted, sending dust and debris flying.


    Riven barely had time to throw up his arms before he was knocked back again, skidding across the dirt. His undead staggered but remained standing. The knight was done playing.


    Riven spat blood. He had to end this.


    The villagers were long gone, shielding themselves in their homes as they left him to fend for himself against the undead.


    ''System, do I need to see the subject if I want to drain there vitality?''


    [[ I will be able to detect anything that''s living within a two mile radius. ]]


    ''Drain all the soldiers that deserted the battle.'' Riven ordered without hesitation.


    He struggled to stand, his legs buckling from the pain and exhaustion.


    [[ Scanning¡­ ]]


    [[ Detected 9 men fitting your description. Proceed with vitality drain? ]]


    ''Do it.''


    Pain shot through his chest as he used up the remaining mana in his mana heart, but he ignored it. More shadows exploded from his body and shot out in different directions and the sound of the soldiers screaming echoed throughout the town. Energy soared through him as the shadows linking him and his undead minions grew thicker and stronger, connecting deeper into their bodies. Their backs straightened. Their dull eyes glowed faintly.


    Riven inhaled sharply¡ªhe could feel them now. Not just as tools, but as extensions of himself. Their movements weren''t clumsy commands anymore. He could predict how they''d react, sense how they would move before they did.


    The Deathbound Knight noticed the change, gripping his sword tightly.


    Riven smirked. "Let''s finish this."


    His undead launched forward again, but this time, they were fast. One ducked low, hacking at the knight''s knees. Another feinted high before pivoting sharply, driving its spear into his exposed side. The last went for a direct assault, striking with relentless precision.


    The knight was forced back.


    For the first time, he was struggling.


    His greatsword clashed against the undead, but every time he struck one down, Riven funneled more vitality in from other people in the village, forcing it to rise again. The knight''s armour cracked. His movements slowed.


    And then¡ªRiven saw his opening.


    The knight swung wide and Riven surged forward. Shadows coiled around his hand as he grabbed the hilt of a fallen sword and drove it straight through the knight''s chest.


    For a moment, silence.


    Then, the Deathbound Knight shuddered. His skeletal fingers twitched, trying to raise his sword again¡ªbut the strength had left him. His head tilted toward Riven one last time.


    "You¡­ truly should not exist¡­"


    With that, his body crumbled into dust, the greatsword falling with a heavy clang onto the bloodstained ground.


    A rush of energy flooded into Riven, like a tether snapping back into place.


    [[ Combat Sequence Complete. Skill Synchronization Accelerated. ]]


    [[ 48%¡­ Time remaining: 3 days 12 hours 15 minutes 30 seconds ]]


    Riven dropped to one knee, breathing hard. His limbs felt like lead, his head spun, and his mana reserves were almost non existent . But he was alive.


    And more importantly¡ªhe had won.


    He was glad he upgraded himself to a first circle mage last night, he didn''t even want to think about how he would have survived this without the extra mana he received from the circle orbiting his mana heart.


    He glanced at the villagers, still watching from a distance from their houses, their eyes wide with shock and fear. Some looked at him like a hero. Others¡­ like a monster.


    Riven didn''t care. This wasn''t real, just a trial. But even so, a nagging thought settled in the back of his mind.


    Why did the Deathbound Knight recognize him?


    And why the hell did it say he shouldn''t exist?


    Riven clenched his fists. Whatever the answer was, he had a feeling it wouldn''t be something he''d like.

 Chapter 17 - 17: Necromancer

    [[ Gateway connecting¡­ Connection secure¡­ Transporting¡­ ]]


    Darkness swallowed his vision again as he was yanked back¡ªexcept this wasn''t the same room where Sana had been.


    He was somewhere else entirely.


    Riven floated in the center of a vast domed chamber, suspended in midair alongside the skill book. Below him stretched a massive circular table, around which sat a handful of acolytes like Sana, along with several members of the Solis Academy staff. Among them, he spotted his instructor, brow furrowed in deep concentration as he stared at Riven and the shadowy tendrils binding him to the book.


    Riven tried to speak, but just like when he had learned the fireball skill, his body refused to obey.


    [[ 50%¡­ Time remaining: 3 days 12 hours 0 minutes 01 second ]]


    The sharp crack of a voice shattered the silence.


    "How the hell did this happen?!"


    A man clad in golden finery stormed into the chamber, his crimson velvet cape billowing behind him. His presence alone commanded the room, authority radiating from every step. Riven didn''t need to be told¡ªthis was the king. S§×arch* The N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "We followed your orders, Your Grace," an elderly man replied, his voice calm yet carrying undeniable authority. "The box distributes skill books based on the mana type best suited to the mage. It appears¡­ this boy is a carrier of dark mana."


    The king''s expression darkened. He slammed a fist onto the table, frustration crackling in his voice.


    "Headmaster, how is this possible?! Necromancers have been extinct for over two hundred years!"


    The headmaster''s gaze didn''t waver. "And yet, here he is," he said, gesturing toward Riven. "The box recognized his affinity. Our system does not lie."


    Murmurs spread through the room, a mixture of fear and fascination. The acolytes whispered among themselves, casting wary glances at Riven as if he might suddenly rise and unleash an undead horde upon them.


    Riven, still paralyzed by the unseen force binding him, fought to speak¡ªto move¡ªto do something. But his body remained frozen, held captive by the very book that had chosen him.


    The king exhaled sharply, running a hand through his graying hair. "Then we burn it," he declared. "Both the book and the boy."


    [[ Wow, he gets straight to the point. I kinda like him. ]]


    ''System, please tell me there''s a way you can get me the hell out of here if they start raising their pitchforks and torches at me.'' Riven asked the system mentally.


    [[ Eh, I guess I can do something. Let''s wait and see first. ]]


    A few gasps rang out. Even the headmaster''s expression wavered. "Your Grace, with all due respect¡ª"


    "You know what dark mana leads to, Headmaster. Corruption. Madness. War." The king''s voice was unwavering. "We cannot allow history to repeat itself. We''re already dealing with remnants of the undead still to this day."


    The silence that followed was suffocating.


    Then, a new voice¡ªcalm, measured, and edged with quiet defiance¡ªbroke through.


    "Killing the boy would be a mistake."


    A woman stood near the chamber''s entrance, clad in deep violet robes embroidered with silver sigils. Her presence was subtle compared to the king''s, yet it commanded attention all the same.


    The headmaster straightened. "Archmage Elara."


    The king''s jaw tightened. "This is none of your concern."


    Elara stepped forward, her gaze locking onto the floating skill book. "You''re all missing the big picture here."


    She turned to face the council fully, her expression unreadable.


    "There hasn''t been a necromancer in two centuries," she continued, "But still we have to fight off hoards of the undead daily. Even now mages are losing their lives fighting off these monstrosities."


    "Get to the point Elara." The king snapped.


    "We use him." Elara grinned, studying Rivens face. "We raise and nurture him so that he can protect this kingdom for any further attacks from the remnants of the Demon King. Don''t you all see? He is the key to total peace!"


    [[Wow, I guess they don''t know what your personality is like. ]]


    Riven would have laughed if he had been able to move his body. Me? The key to peace? As if I give a shit about protecting this damned kingdom.


    The king scoffed, folding his arms. "You expect me to believe a necromancer will protect this kingdom? Have you lost your mind, Elara?"


    [[ Wow, he''s not stupid. I guess that''s why he''s the King. ]]


    Elara''s smile didn''t waver. "No, Your Grace. I''m simply the only one thinking beyond outdated superstition." She gestured towards Riven, her robes shifting with the movement. "He is young, his mind malleable. We could make him into the perfect weapon and protector."


    The King''s eyes narrowed. "Or we could be raising our kingdom''s greatest threat."


    Elara''s gaze remained steady. "Then we make sure he never becomes a threat."


    The room fell into silence, thick with tension. The headmaster shifted uncomfortably, the instructors and other staff members glancing at one another, and Riven - still suspended, still utterly trapped - felt like a specimen under a magnifying glass.


    He had to admit, Elara was damn good at playing politics. She wasn''t pleading for his life out of kindness - she saw an opportunity. A living necromancer was a resource too valuable to discard and she knew it.


    Smart woman. He''d have to watch out for her.


    The king exhaled sharply. "And if he refuses to serve?"


    Elara''s expression didn''t change. "Then he dies."


    Okay, yep. Definitely have to watch out for her.


    The headmaster cleared his throat. "Your Grace, if I may¡­ the academy exists to cultivate potential. To deny the boy a chance to prove himself would go against our purpose."


    The King rubbed his temples. Riven could see the war waging in his head - the fear of history repeating itself versus the cold logic of power.


    Then, he finally spoke.


    "Fine. He lives."


    Riven exhaled mentally, tension easing - but the king wasn''t done.


    "Under one condition." His piercing gaze landed on Riven. "He will be bound."


    Murmurs spread again, but this time, they were darker, more uncertain.


    The headmaster hesitated. "Bound, Your Grace?"


    The king nodded, a malicious grin curving at his mouth. "A magical binding where I hold his leash. A binding where I have the power to crush his heart the moment he steps out of line."


    Silence fell over the chamber. Heavy. Suffocating.


    Riven might not have been able to move, but his mind was screaming. Oh, you''ve got to be kidding me.


    [[ Yikes. That''s a bit extreme, don''t you think? ]]


    ''System, tell me you can do something about this.''


    [[ I won''t know until I see what type of magic they''re using. ]]


    Fantastic.


    The headmaster frowned, clearly uncomfortable. "Your Grace, such a measure is¡­ excessive."


    The king turned his gaze to the old man. "Do you really believe that?" His voice was dangerously soft. "Because I believe it is necessary."


    The headmaster hesitated. "There are other methods of ensuring his loyalty¡ª"


    "I won''t take that risk." The king cut him off, eyes sharp as daggers. "If he does not want to serve, he will die. If he does serve, he will serve under control."


    Riven gritted his teeth. So that was his choice - serve or die. It didn''t surprise him. No matter the world, no matter the people, greed was always the same.


    Elara, to Riven''s mild surprise, seemed unfazed by the king''s demand. Instead, she nodded thoughtfully. "A binding of that level requires a willing subject."


    The king''s eyes narrowed. "Then we make him willing. When the boy awakes from learning the spell, you tell him truthfully. Either he accepts the binding and obeys, or he dies."


    "Then we must wait for the boy to awake," Elara nodded. "We must act normally towards him to make sure we don''t make him wary of us. You, Elder Thorne." Elara glanced over at the instructor that hosted the trials. "Take this boy under your wing, gain his trust and get him to accept the binding. You have spent the most time with him out of everyone here."


    "Of course, Archmage." The instructor, Elder Thorne, bowed his head in acceptance.


    "Then I guess there''s nothing else to do until the boy awakes." The headmaster sighed. "Meeting adjourned."


    The group of people began to dissipate and Riven was left to seethe in his fury.


    What the hell had even just happened?! All of this just because a random skill book was assigned to him?! Damn it all! He knew when he first saw the undead puppeteer skill book that it would be suspicious if he learnt it - but what choice did he have? Sana was there with him and saw the book and he didn''t have time to argue and ask to change it. The whole reason for even learning the skill book was because he wanted to pass the third trial and be accepted into this wretched academy.


    Fine - they want to use me? I will use them right back. Just like with my Family, I''m going to bleed this whole kingdom dry. I''m going to take everything I can and climb the ranks of mages here before I move onto the next god forsaken place and bleed them dry too.

 Chapter 18 - 18: Bloodline

    The following days slipped by in a haze. Riven was returned to the same room where he had first entered for the third trial, confined within its walls as the skill book download continued. Throughout it all, Sana remained at his side, unmoving, her watchful gaze never straying. For three days, she stood vigilant, ensuring he remained under constant surveillance - a level of dedication that, despite the circumstances, Riven couldn''t help but find impressive.


    [[ Congratulations! ]]


    [[ You have learned a new skill: Puppeteer of the Undead! ]]


    The room trembled, a low rumble reverberating through the air as the atmosphere grew heavy and dark. Shadows flinched and twisted, slithering across the floor like living tendrils before lashing out toward Rivens still-levitating form. They coiled around his limbs, tightening their grip almost desperately. Then at last, they engulfed him completely, ensnaring him in a cocoon of pure, impenetrable darkness.


    As the shadows began to embed themselves into his skin, Riven felt something snap deep within his soul. It was as if a door - one that had been locked for centuries - had finally been forced open. The weight of it sent a shudder through his body, and for a moment, his mind was not his own.


    The room, the academy, even Sana''s watchful presence¡ªall of it faded away.


    ¡ªx¡ª


    He stood atop a battlefield drenched in blood. The sky burned a deep crimson, and the air was thick with the stench of death. Around him, massive armies clashed - knights in gleaming gold against legions of the undead. Towering Deathbound Knights cut through soldiers like paper, skeletal war beasts and wraiths trampled the living beneath their feet.


    And at the heart of it all, a man stood alone.


    No¡ªnot a man.


    A king.


    Draped in obsidian-black armor, his silver hair whipping wildly in the wind, his glowing violet eyes surveyed the battlefield with an expression that was neither rage nor desperation. It was calculated. Every fallen knight, every slain soldier¡ªhe raised them back within seconds, their screams twisting into silence as they bent to his will.


    ''System, who is that man?'' Riven asked but he was met with silence.


    The battlefield wavered, the crimson sky bleeding into darkness, and for a moment, Riven felt like he was falling. Then the world around him shifted¡­


    The corpses. The undead. The silver-haired man in black armor.


    Everything was gone. sea??h th§× Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Instead, he stood before a towering obsidian throne, carved from something that pulsed with eerie, unnatural energy. Shadows coiled around its base like living tendrils, shifting and writhing with no clear source. The entire chamber radiated power¡ªancient, overwhelming, familiar.


    And then, from the darkness, a figure emerged.


    Tall. Cloaked in a long, midnight-black robe, its edges embroidered with blood red runes that seemed to move when Riven tried to focus on them. The hood was drawn low, obscuring the figure''s face, but glowing violet eyes burned from beneath it.


    A chill crawled up Riven''s spine.


    This wasn''t some illusion.


    This thing¡ªwhoever or whatever it was¡ªwas real.


    "You''re finally here."


    The voice was deep. Resonant. Riven didn''t just hear it - it echoed inside his mind.


    Riven took a cautious step back. "Who the hell are you?"


    The figure didn''t move. Didn''t breathe. The shadows around it pulsed, shifting closer.


    "I have been known by many names," it said, its voice unreadable. "But none that would mean anything to you."


    Okay. That wasn''t ominous at all.


    "What do you want?" Riven asked cautiously.


    A low chuckle.


    "It is not about what I want. It is about what you are - who you are."


    Riven narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean?"


    The air grew heavy. The shadows tightened and then all of a sudden erupted. They shot out like a gigantic claw, wrapping around Riven so tightly that he felt the air escape his lungs.


    The cloaked figure pulled back his hood, revealing long silver hair and violet eyes - just like the man in the battlefield. His hand stretched out in front of him as the shadows warped. A dark red magic circle began to appear in front of his palm and from it shot hundreds of obsidian needles. They embedded themselves into Rivens entire body and Riven let out a bloodcurdling cry, helpless to fight back in the shadows clutches.


    The man''s violet eyes began to glow as he tipped his head back and raised his arms.


    And then it began.


    Droplets of blood began to gather on his porcelain skin and then one by one shoot towards Riven, absorbing into the needles. It''s started with a few drops of blood but then it turned into a downpour.


    [[ Forceful Bloodline Awakening Detected. ]]


    [[ Commencing Awakening ]]


    Pain.


    Agonising, all-consuming pain.


    Rivens body convulsed as the blood continued to force its way into him, searing through his veins like molten fire. Every drop felt like it was reshaping him, rewriting something fundamental within his very being. His bones ached, his muscles burned and something deep within his mana heart began to stir.


    The figure before him watched on in silence as his blood continued to pour. But there was something in his glowing violet gaze that was unreadable. Satisfaction? Expectation?


    Or something more sinister?


    The obsidian needles embedded in Rivens flesh pulsed, continuously pumping the strange man''s blood into Rivens body, fusing with his own. His vision blurred, warping between the throne room and flashes of memories that weren''t his.


    A kingdom shrouded in shadows.


    A throne room filled with kneeling figures clad in dark armour.


    A king with violet eyes and a face¡­ Rivens face.


    Riven gasped, his back arching as the pain reached its peak.


    Then¡­ silence.


    [[ Congratulations! Your bloodline has now been awakened! ]]


    [[ Bloodline: Descendant of the Shadow King. (Rank: ???) ]]


    The shadows around him collapsed, withdrawing into his skin and the obsidian needles vanished as if they had never been there. He hit the cold stone floor with a thud, his body shaking, breath ragged.


    The heavy air in the chamber seemed to settle.


    Riven clenched his fists, expecting pain to erupt through his body - but instead¡­


    He felt stronger.


    No, not just stronger. He felt complete - as if something inside of him had been missing since entering this world and now it had finally been returned to him. His body no longer felt foreign, no longer felt like something he simply existed in.


    He slowly pushed himself up to his knees, glancing down at his hands. His nails had darkened to an obsidian hue, faint violet runes now etched along his skin. His breath was steadier, his vision sharper and beneath his skin he felt powerful.


    The strange man who caused all of this lowered his arms, his breathing ragged as he fell to his knees in front of Riven.


    "It is done." The man voice was hoarse and ragged, his skin turning ashen and Riven noticed tiny flakes beginning to float away from the man''s body.


    Riven watched in stunned silence as the man before him began to crumble. Tiny fragments of his body, like burning embers, drifting away into the darkness, dissipating as if they had never existed.


    The violet glow in the man''s eyes flickered, dimming slightly, yet his gaze remained locked onto Riven with unwavering intensity. Despite his deteriorating state, there was no fear. No pain.


    Only certainty.


    "You are the last," the man murmured, his voice rasping as his form continued to unravel. "The last of my blood¡­ do not make the same mistakes as I did¡­"


    Riven''s breath hitched. The words weighed down on him like chains, the reality of what had just happened settling into his bones.


    His bloodline¡­ the Shadow King¡­


    It wasn''t just some cryptic title. It wasn''t just history.


    It was who he was.


    "¡­Why?" Riven forced out, his voice rough. His fingers curled into fists, still trembling from the remnants of pain and power surging through him. "Why show me this? Why give me this now?"


    Riven thought of the previous owner of the body he was in - all those years he spent powerless and tortured. His life would have been so different if he had this power back then.


    The man exhaled, shadows curling from his mouth like smoke. His body was falling apart faster now¡ªcracks splintering along his skin, his robes fraying into nothingness.


    "Because one of my skills had finally found you my child," he whispered. "I have waited for you for a very long time."


    A pause. Then, his lips curled into a faint, almost knowing smile.


    "Reclaim what is rightfully yours."


    Riven''s heart pounded.


    The man reached forward with his remaining strength, pressing a cold, decaying hand to Riven''s chest. Immediately, a burning sensation spread through his body, like an ember igniting deep within his core.


    "Remember this," the man rasped, his voice barely above a whisper now. "The throne should have never been theirs to take."


    And with that final declaration, the last remnants of his form crumbled away, dissolving into swirling tendrils of darkness that coiled around Riven, absorbing into his skin - into his very soul.


    The chamber trembled, the obsidian throne behind him cracking as the magic holding it together fractured. Shadows whirled violently around the space, pulled toward Riven like a vortex, until¡­


    Silence.


    And then the world shattered.


    ¡ªx¡ª


    Riven gasped awake.


    The familiar room of the trial chamber swam into focus, the weight of reality crashing back onto him.


    But everything was different.


    The air around him felt heavier, as if the very mana in the room recognized what had just happened. The torches flickered erratically, their flames dimming as if bowing in submission. The shadows clung to him, curling at his fingertips, moving when he willed them to move.


    He exhaled sharply, pushing himself upright.


    And that''s when he saw her.


    Sana stood a few feet away, a sleek staff now in her hands poised towards him, her usual calm expression shattered by something that looked eerily close to fear.


    Then, he focused his gaze on her, the shadows in the room beginning to press down on her.


    Sana''s grip on her staff tightened.


    "Did I pass?" Riven smiled sheepishly, scratching the back of head as his innocent mask slipped perfectly over his face.


    Sana flinched, shock and confusion settled over her features as the intimidation that had been radiating from Riven disappeared in an instant.


    "What?" She asked, her body trembling slightly.


    "The third trial," Riven asked feigning confusion. "I learnt the skill - so, did I pass?"


    "Oh¡­" Sana cleared her throat and pulled back her staff. "Yes my child, you did excellent."


    She waved a shaky hand and the gateway he had entered through reappeared again. "Make your way back to the courtyard where the other students are waiting and Elder Thorne will announce the results."


    "Thank you, Sana." He smiled brightly and she bent her head nervously. He smirked to himself as he walked through the gate.


    Now, it was time to put his acting skills to the test.

 Chapter 19 - 19: Nyx

    The glow of the gateway settled and Riven exited to the courtyard. The amphitheater surrounding the courtyard was packed with other first years and they all seemed to quieten when he exited the gateway.


    "Now that the last student has returned, please wait a moment whilst we total up everyone''s scores." Elder Thorne said, his sharp golden gaze lingering on Riven before he turned and walked over to where a group of academy staff members were huddled.


    "Last one, huh?" Riven muttered to himself as he made his way over to an empty seat.


    ''System, are you back yet?'' Riven asked mentally, feeling slightly uncomfortable now without the system administrator''s usual babble.


    Once again he was met with silence.


    "Well if it isn''t the top scorer?" Valis appeared in front of him, his sneering expression already irking Riven. "What happened in this trial, huh? I thought you said it wasn''t down to luck that you passed the first and second trial?"


    Wait¡­ did Valis think Riven failed because he was last out?


    "Well, let''s just wait and see what the results reveal, shall we?" Riven placed a fake smile on his face and Valis''s eyebrow twitched.


    "Let''s see if that smirks still there when your name appears last and you''re kicked out of this place." Valis said, distaste twisting his pristine features before he turned around and sauntered off.


    Riven felt the weight of someone''s gaze and turned around to see a grinning Lucenya. As he met her eyes she waved and gave him a wink.


    "What the hell is wrong with those two." Riven muttered, shaking his head as he faced forward.


    His mind flickered with the memories of the silver haired man and what he had said¡­


    "Reclaim what is rightfully yours."


    The phrase echoed in Riven''s mind, refusing to fade even as he forced himself to focus on the present. The courtyard, the hushed murmurs of students, the weight of hundreds of eyes watching him¡ªit all felt secondary to the fire burning within him.


    Something inside him had awakened. The shadows still coiled around his fingertips, responding to his thoughts, eager to move at his command. He clenched his fists, feeling the raw strength humming beneath his skin.


    I need answers.


    He exhaled sharply, tilting his head back as Elder Thorne''s voice rang out over the courtyard.


    "The results have been tallied," the elder announced, his golden gaze sweeping across the gathered students. "And now, we shall reveal the rankings."


    A massive projection of golden script appeared in the air, listing the names of every student who had participated in the trials. The lower ranks filled in first, dozens of names appearing in descending order. sea??h th§× N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Riven barely paid attention to them. His eyes flickered toward the top of the list, waiting¡ª


    Then his name appeared.


    1st Place - Riven Drakar


    Silence.


    Complete and utter silence.


    The entire courtyard seemed to freeze. Riven could feel the collective shock in the air, the disbelieving stares drilling into him from all directions.


    Then the whispers started.


    "Riven? But¡ªhe was the last one out."


    "How is that possible?"


    "First place? Over Valis?"


    He could practically taste the outrage from some of the more prestigious students. Especially from a certain platinum haired fool-


    "This is bullshit!"


    Valis shot to his feet, his face contorted in sheer disbelief and fury. "How the hell did he get first place?! What kind of joke is this?!"


    Elder Thorne''s golden eyes snapped toward him, unimpressed. "If you wish to challenge the results, Valis Dain, you may take it up with the Academy''s Headmaster."


    Valis'' jaw clenched, his entire body shaking with rage, but he had enough sense to back down. Barely.


    Riven, on the other hand, simply tilted his head, his lips curling into a slow smirk.


    "Seems like luck was on my side again, huh, Valis?"


    The noble''s face darkened with fury, but before he could retort, Elder Thorne continued.


    "With that, the top ten scorers will be receiving special accommodations and resources, as well as priority selection of skill books," the elder announced. "The full details will be given at the ceremony tomorrow. For now, you are all dismissed."


    The students slowly began to disperse, though the glances they threw Riven''s way were anything but subtle. Some were curious, others envious, and more than a few outright hostile.


    Riven paid them no mind.


    He had more important matters to deal with.


    ''System, are you still not responding?''


    Silence.


    Damn it.


    Something was wrong. The system had never gone completely silent like this before. Had his awakening affected it somehow?


    He turned on his heel, making his way toward the dormitories, his mind racing. He needed to get somewhere private, somewhere he could figure out what had really changed inside of him.


    He raced up the stairs and into his room, heading straight for the small training room and locking himself inside.


    He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, searching within himself for any change or sign of the system.


    He studied his mana heart and was startled to find it now completely black with violet runes engraved onto it just like his arms were. The circle orbiting it was also completely dark, like a shadowy wisp brimming with mana.


    "System, answer me." Riven demanded as he searched deeper within himself.


    Silence.


    "ANSWER ME!" He commanded and the shadows brimming beneath his skin exploded from his body, flurrying around him like a tornado.


    [[Link¡­ weakened¡­]]


    Relief flooded through Riven as he saw the notification screen pop in front of him.


    ''Weakened?'' Rivens brows furrowed as he closed his eyes again. Searching deeper and deeper within himself - searching for anything that could be his connection to the system.


    All he could see was vast darkness, stretching so far and wide within himself that he felt if he stayed here he would slowly get lost in the void.


    He was about to give up when all of a sudden he saw a flicker of blue light. His eyes squeezed tighter as he focused on the blue glow.


    A thread.


    It appeared to be a thin thread, no thicker than a strand of hair, but as he got closer he could see that it wasn''t just one strand - but thousands¡­ no¡­ millions.


    "I hope this works." Riven sighed and reached out mentally, his palms outstretched towards the maze of strands.


    And then, he released it.


    It was like a tsunami wave crashing down on the threads. A dark, pitch black ocean of mana surging and falling against the endless threads.


    As the black tide of mana surged over the endless strands, Riven felt an unseen force push back. It wasn''t violent, nor was it passive - it was resisting him, like an ancient mechanism long untouched by time, struggling to awaken.


    The pressure in his mind built, his body trembling as he forced his will forward.


    This is mine.


    My power. My system. I won''t let it be taken from me.


    The dark mana wrapped around the thin strands, seeping into them like ink spreading through water. At first, nothing happened. Then, a pulse.


    A weak, struggling flicker of life.


    [[ Link stabilizing¡­ ]]


    The screen flickered, its words distorted for a brief second before snapping into clarity.


    [[ Link to System Core partially restored. ]]


    [[ Warning: An external force has attempted to suppress System Functions. ]]


    Riven''s eyes widened. Suppress?


    Who - or what - was trying to suppress his system? His thoughts raced, trying to piece together the puzzle. His bloodline awakening, the memories of the throne, the strange figure that had given him this power - it all had to be connected.


    Taking a deep breath, he focused on the newly stabilized thread, feeling its presence within him. It was still weaker than before, but it was there. His lifeline to the system remained intact.


    [[ System Recovering¡­ Please Wait. ]]


    The more Riven poured his mana into the strands, the more resistance he felt. It was like trying to push against a massive, immovable door.


    If something is suppressing the system, then he just had to break through it.


    He willed his shadows to continue to wrap tightly around the threads, coiling like tendrils of ink, feeding them with his power. His breath grew heavier, sweat beading on his brow, but he didn''t let up.


    Then, finally¡­


    A pulse.


    No, not just a pulse - a response.


    The threads trembled, shuddering under his relentless will. The blue glow flickered once, twice, before it surged, brightening like a crackling bolt of lightning.


    [[ Warning: System Core Interference Detected. ]]


    [[ Attempting to Bypass Foreign Restrictions¡­ ]]


    Riven''s fingers twitched. Foreign restrictions? Someone - or something - had placed a block on his system.


    He gritted his teeth and pushed harder.


    The resistance cracked.


    [[ System Core Synchronization¡­ 67%¡­ 81%¡­ 96%¡­ ]]


    The air in the training chamber grew heavy, a deep, pulsating hum vibrating through the walls. Then, with a final surge, the last barrier shattered.


    A flood of notifications appeared at once.


    [[ System Core Restored. ]]


    [[ Administrator Status: Reactivated. ]]


    [[ Foreign Interference: Neutralized. ]]


    Riven finally opened his eyes and slumped to the floor, his body covered in sweat as his breath sawed in and out of his mouth.


    "System¡­ are you¡­ back?" Riven asked between gasps of breath.


    [[ I knew you would miss me! ]]


    The notification had relief flooding through him and he hung his head backwards, a breathless laugh escaping his lips.


    "I didn''t miss you - I missed the system and its perks." Riven corrected.


    A hum filled the air again and the shadows twitched and began to move. Riven watched as a figure began to form from the shadows.


    "That hurts my feeling, you know." A feminine voice echoed through the shadows, a slender woman''s figure sauntered her way over to him, leaning down so her midnight hair fell around hers and Rivens face like a curtain.


    "Who are you?" Riven asked, not flinching as she leaned closer, their faces only inches apart. Her entire body was made from shadows but Riven could make out the features hidden underneath.


    "I am your most devoted follower, your highness." She said and dragged a tender hand down the side of his face. "I have been asleep in the void for so long, waiting for your return."


    He lifted his hand and the shadow woman smiled as if she expected him to touch her face in return.


    Instead, he flicked her on the forehead.


    She flinched backwards, falling onto her behind.


    "What the hell?!" She yelled as she rubbed her forehead.


    "You don''t have to go acting all mysterious and cool - I know you were that annoying system administrator who''s been pestering me all week." Riven sighed, cocking his head as he watched her.


    "So mean." She pouted and crossed her arms.


    "Now tell me - who are you?" Riven asked.


    The shadow woman huffed, her obsidian eyes narrowing at Riven as if genuinely offended. "I already told you. I am your most devoted follower."


    Riven simply arched an eyebrow.


    She sighed dramatically, tossing her long, midnight hair over her shoulder before standing back up. "Fine, fine. If you must know, I am Nyx." She placed a hand on her hip, tilting her head. "I was created from the pits of the Abyss, my only purpose is to serve the one who commands it."


    Riven crossed his arms. "What about this whole system thing? Did you create that?"


    Nyx''s expression wavered, her usual playfulness giving way to something more solemn. "It''s complicated, especially for someone like you who is still learning, but this world is divided into three distinct Realms. First, there is the Abyss, where the souls of the corrupt and the forsaken undead dwell. Then, there is the Mortal Realm, where we are now. And finally, there is Varethun¡ªthe land of the Dragons."


    She took a breath before continuing, her tone filled with quiet reverence.


    "Velmorian was the first of us to rise from the Abyss. He was born from its darkness, but he refused to remain there. By sheer will and strength, he clawed his way free, breaking through the veil and stepping into the Mortal Realm. He took on human form, lived among mortals, and studied their ways. In time, he even cultivated a mana heart like theirs, one that beat with ambition and hunger for power. He climbed through the ranks of mankind, surpassing their limits, and when there was nothing left to challenge him here, he ascended beyond¡ªinto Varethun, the realm of Dragons, seeking even greater strength."


    Nyx hesitated, biting her bottom lip before pressing on, her voice tinged with a mix of sorrow and rage.


    "But the Dragons¡­ they resented him. They saw him not as one of their own, but as an outsider¡ªan intruder who had no right to rise above his station. They feared his potential, his limitless growth. So they tormented him, tested him, tried to break him. And when all else failed, they framed him for a crime he did not commit. It was their final act of cruelty."


    Her fingers curled into fists, trembling slightly as she spoke.


    "For his supposed ''betrayal,'' they cast him down from Varethun, tearing his mana heart from his chest as punishment. They stripped him of everything - his power, his place among them - and sent him plummeting back to the Mortal Realm."


    Nyx''s gaze darkened, her voice dipping lower.


    "Weakened, betrayed, and lost, Velmorian turned to the humans he had once been close with. But they, too, abandoned him. Without his strength, he was of no use to them. The very people who had once praised him as a hero discarded him like a broken tool."


    A sharp exhale. Shadows writhed at her feet, curling and shifting as if responding to her fury.


    "Exiled from the Solis Kingdom, forsaken by both man and dragon, Velmorian wandered the lands, his heart hollow and his rage festering. But the Abyss¡­ the Abyss never forgot him." She lifted her gaze, eyes gleaming like a starry night sky. "In his moment of despair, the Abyss called to him, and he answered. He welcomed the darkness that had once birthed him, embraced its power, and in doing so, he became something far greater than what the Dragons feared."


    She stretched out a hand, and the shadows swirled around her, forming twisting tendrils in the air.


    "With that power, he carved his own domain - a kingdom built not from stone and steel, but from shadow itself. And he was not alone for long. The Abyss born - others like him, others cast aside - crawled forth from the depths, drawn to their new master''s call."


    Her voice took on a reverent hush as she continued.


    "They became his legion. His children. Undead, abyssal creatures, all swearing fealty to him. He was no longer just a man. He was something more. And as his kingdom grew, so too did his power. He forged this system, binding it into existence¡ªnot for himself, but for the strongest among his children. His true successor."


    Finally, Nyx''s gaze lifted to meet Riven''s, a soft smile playing on her lips.


    "And now, Riven¡­" She took a step closer, her obsidian eyes burning with conviction.


    "The system - Velmorian - has chosen you."

 Chapter 20 - 20: Reclaiming a Kingdom

    Riven exhaled slowly, his mind racing as he processed Nyx''s words.


    Velmorian. The Abyss. The dragons.


    And now, him.


    He had always wondered about the history of this world and his place in it, but this¡ªthis was beyond anything he had imagined. The weight of it pressed against his chest, heavy and inescapable.


    He was the successor of a fallen king.


    The heir to a power that had once shaken the balance of the three realms.


    And now, that power was his.


    Riven flexed his fingers, watching as shadows curled instinctively around them, responding to his will like an extension of his own body. The violet runes on his arms pulsed faintly, matching the rhythm of his mana heart.


    It felt natural. As if this was how his body had always meant to be - even in his past life.


    He lifted his gaze back to Nyx, who was still watching him with a mixture of amusement and reverence.


    "So," he said at last, his voice calm despite the storm raging in his mind, "What does this actually mean for me?"


    Nyx''s lips curled into a sly smile.


    "It means you have a kingdom to reclaim."


    Riven huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head. "You really think I care about some ancient throne?"


    Nyx tilted her head. "Do you think Velmorian did, at first?"


    He paused at that, frowning.


    "He was cast down, betrayed by both humans and dragons alike," she continued. "At first, he had no intention of ruling, no desire to do anything except wallow in his own dread and suffering. But the need for power¡­ it never stops calling."


    Riven''s fingers twitched. He was no stranger to the hunger for power. He understood, better than most, that in this world - and in every world - strength was the only currency that mattered. Weakness had no place anywhere.


    "And how will claiming this throne benefit me? Why should I go to all the bother of rebuilding a kingdom when I can just use the power of the system to grow in strength on my own?" Riven asked and Nyx rolled her eyes.


    "Did you not just hear a word I said?" She crossed her arms. "Let''s say you reach the pinnacle of power that a mage can reach here in the mortal realm and you ascend to Varethun just like Velmorian did. What do you think is going to happen?" She pointed a slender finger towards him and then pointed downwards. "You will cast back down to the mortal realm with your mana heart ripped from your chest - history will repeat itself."


    Riven''s smirk faltered slightly, his fingers curling into fists at his sides.


    He hated to admit it, but Nyx had a point. If the dragons had once torn Velmorian down at the height of his power, what was stopping them from doing the same to him? No matter how much he grew, how much he mastered the system, there would always be forces stronger than him waiting to put him back in his place.


    And Riven had sworn that he would never let anyone push him around anymore.


    "So what?" he challenged, crossing his arms. "You expect me to wage war against an entire realm of dragons and humans? Rebuild a kingdom that doesn''t even exist anymore? You''re asking a lot."


    Nyx sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "You''re thinking too small. This isn''t about revenge or about mindlessly reclaiming some forgotten kingdom." She stepped closer, her voice lowering as shadows curled around her like wisps of smoke. "This is about breaking the cycle."


    Riven frowned, but he listened.


    "Velmorian''s mistake was trying to rise alone," Nyx continued. "He challenged the natural order, ascended beyond what was allowed, and when they cast him down, he had no foundation to stand on. No one to catch him. That''s why he lost."


    She took another step forward, her dark eyes gleaming. "But you? You don''t have to make the same mistake. The Abyss is already yours to command. The power you''ve unlocked isn''t just a tool¡ªit''s a legacy. One that was meant to be wielded properly. Not just for personal gain, but to create something greater. You can reshape the natural order of this world - pave the way to new heights of power."


    Riven inhaled slowly, feeling the weight of her words settle in his chest.


    A kingdom of his own. A powerbase that couldn''t be stripped from him. If he built something permanent, if he surrounded himself with forces strong enough to rival those that sought to control this world, then there would be no one who could take it away.


    There was no doubt in his mind¡ªhe would surpass his mortal limits. He would ascend to Varethun.


    But now, he wouldn''t be going alone.


    He would bring an army.


    "Alright," Riven murmured, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "I see your point. If I rebuild the kingdom, I won''t just be gathering power for myself¡ªI''ll be forging allies, creating a force strong enough to ascend alongside me."


    Nyx''s smile widened, satisfaction gleaming in her obsidian eyes. "Now that is the kind of thinking I wanted to hear."


    She lifted her hand, and the shadows coiled around her fingers, forming a shifting mass that pulsed like a living thing. "But building a kingdom isn''t as simple as gathering soldiers and marching forward. You need more than just brute strength. You need loyalty, strategy, and most importantly¡­" She let the shadows spiral outward, shaping into towering silhouettes of armored figures, kneeling in fealty.


    "¡­people who will follow you - not just because they fear you, but because they believe in you."


    Riven eyed the shifting shadows, considering her words. He wasn''t na?ve. Fear alone wasn''t enough to keep people bound together. It was unstable, brittle - easy to break apart when faced with something greater. But belief? That was different.


    Riven exhaled through his nose, tilting his head slightly. "Fine. Then where do we start?"


    Nyx''s eyes gleamed. "With the remnants."


    "The remnants?"


    She waved a hand, and the shadowy figures melted away, replaced by a new vision¡ªa ruined stronghold, half-buried beneath jagged cliffs, wreathed in swirling mist. Crumbling towers stretched toward the sky like skeletal remains, yet beneath the ruin, something pulsed. Something alive.


    "There are those who still carry traces of Velmorian''s legacy," Nyx explained, her tone shifting into something quieter, more reverent. "Exiled warriors. Lost clans. Beasts of the Abyss that have waited in the dark, bound by forgotten oaths. Some have scattered, hiding in the mortal realm, while others still slumber in the ruins of their fallen kingdom."


    She turned to face Riven fully. "Your first step is to find them."


    Riven studied the image for a long moment. The ruins looked ancient, long abandoned, yet the air around them hummed with something powerful - something dormant. He could feel it, even from here.


    And it was calling to him.


    He looked back at Nyx, a slow smirk forming. "A kingdom buried beneath the earth, waiting for its king to return? How poetic."


    Nyx chuckled. "Fitting, isn''t it?"


    "Well for now I''ll need to build my power here in the academy." Riven sighed. "They''re going to be suspicious of me for the foreseeable future so I need to keep low until I''m powerful enough to be free from them."


    "I''ll be with you too from now on," Nyx said. "When you re-linked the system, I became stronger. My physical form is almost complete - I just need to collect more mana."


    "So you¡­ you''re like a human?" Riven asked, eyeing her shadowy form.


    "I''m born from the Abyss." Nyx said, brushing her dark hair back over her shoulder. "We absorb the mana in the Abyss and once we''re strong enough, we ascend to the mortal realm. We''re able to use mana to gain a human appearance - it''s like a glamour skill that all Abyss born know."


    Riven leaned back slightly, watching Nyx with newfound curiosity. "So you''ll be able to walk around like any other student once you absorb enough mana?"


    Nyx smirked. "That''s the idea. Though, I imagine I''ll be a bit more impressive than your average mortal." She flicked a wrist, and the shadows around her shifted, condensing into a more solid form for a brief moment before dispersing again. "Once I stabilize, I''ll be able to walk beside you without anyone noticing anything strange."


    Riven tapped his fingers against his knee. Having Nyx physically present could be a major advantage. She was knowledgeable and if her form truly stabilized, she could act as a second pair of eyes in a place where deception was as dangerous as magic itself.


    Still, there was one thing that bothered him. "How long will that take?"


    Nyx shrugged. "That depends. If I''m able to absorb mana in a place that''s dense with dark mana it could take a few days." S~ea??h the N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Her words made him remember the staff of Ignis he owned and its need for a place with dense fire mana.


    "I''ll check around tomorrow after orientation." Riven said as he got up and unlocked the door of the training room. "For now just absorb some mana in here and try not to be too annoying."


    "What - where are you going?" Nyx asked with a pout.


    "I''m going to sleep." Riven said as he walked into his bedroom and slammed the door behind him.


    After the week he had just suffered through and the overload of information Nyx had just given him¡­ he was exhausted.


    He slumped on his bed and sighed. Tomorrow he would make a plan on how to go about starting to reclaim his kingdom.


    But for now, he would sleep.

 Chapter 21 - 21: Academy Guide

    For the first time in what felt like ages, Riven had a proper night''s sleep. As he sat up, stretching his limbs, the shadows curled and flickered over his skin, moving as if to greet him.


    Shaking off the remnants of drowsiness, he made his way to the bathroom, stepping into the shower. The hot water cascaded over his face, washing away the last traces of exhaustion.


    Then -


    [[ Wow, I didn''t notice this before, but you''re actually quite skinny. ]]


    Riven''s jaw clenched. A notification window flickered into existence, completely unbothered by the fact that he was mid-shower.


    "A little privacy, Nyx?" he muttered, scowling at the intrusive screen.


    [[ I''m your closest aide now, your highness. ]]


    [[ I need to know everything about you. ]]


    Riven exhaled sharply, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Didn''t I tell you not to be annoying?"


    He stepped out of the shower, drying off quickly before pulling on a fresh set of his academy uniform. Just as he finished lacing his boots -


    [[ We need to come up with a workout regime. ]]


    [[ Leave it to me! ]]


    Before Riven could even think about protesting, the screens vanished.


    He sighed, already dreading what sort of hellish torture she was going to come up with.


    Riven navigated the halls, following the path indicated by the academy staff. As he walked, whispers rippled through the crowd of first-year students, their curious - and sometimes wary - glances trailing after him. Not missing a beat, he met their stares with easy, practiced smiles, masking his annoyance behind a facade of friendly charm.


    As Riven stepped through the towering entrance of the grand hall, the low hum of chatter fell into a tense hush. The vast chamber stretched before him, illuminated by ethereal chandeliers that floated overhead, casting a golden glow across the assembled first-year students. Rows of long, polished tables lined the space, each seat occupied by eager initiates waiting for the elders to decide their fates.


    At the front of the hall, raised on an elevated platform, stood the academy''s elders. Their presence alone commanded attention - clad in their ceremonial robes, each radiated an aura of immense power. At the center of them all stood Elder Thorne, his sharp golden gaze sweeping over the gathered students with quiet intensity.


    Riven strolled forward, taking his place among the other first-years, his expression calm despite the weight of so many stares. Even now, whispers filled the air.


    "That''s him. The one who ranked first."


    "How did he beat Valis? No way it wasn''t rigged."


    Riven resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Let them talk. Their opinions meant nothing to him. He simply smirked, adjusting his uniform sleeve as he settled into his seat.


    From across the hall, Valis sat stiffly, his jaw clenched in barely-contained frustration. Lucenya, on the other hand, seemed entirely at ease, her chin resting in her palm as she grinned at Riven with undisguised amusement.


    A sharp sound echoed through the hall as Elder Thorne stepped forward, his deep voice cutting through the murmurs.


    "The first-year trials have concluded," he announced, his golden gaze sweeping across the room. "Your performance has been recorded, your potential assessed, and now, the final step of your initiation begins."


    The students straightened in their seats, tension thick in the air.


    "Each of you will be assigned to an elder," Thorne continued, "who will oversee your development at the academy. Your training will be rigorous, our expectations high. Those who fail to meet them¡­ will not remain here long."


    Silence followed.


    Riven maintained a calm facade, though irritation simmered beneath the surface. He should have been eager for this moment - being assigned a mentor meant guidance, someone to refine his magic and push his training to new heights.


    But instead of a teacher, he was getting a watchdog.


    Elder Thorne wouldn''t just be overseeing his growth - he would be monitoring his every move, ensuring nothing slipped past the academy''s scrutiny. And worse - he would be reporting directly to the king.


    The thought alone sent a slow burn through Riven''s veins. He wasn''t just being trained.


    He was being contained, like a dog on a leash.


    One by one, the elders began calling names, each student stepping forward as their fates were decided. Some were visibly pleased, others disappointed. The selections continued - until Elder Thorne spoke again.


    "For my class," Thorne declared, his voice carrying easily across the hall, "I have chosen four students."


    The hall quieted further. Thorne was one of the most powerful figures in the academy - his selections were always watched with keen interest.


    His gaze settled first on Valis Dain.


    "Valis Dain."


    The noble student rose swiftly, expression smoothing into something more composed, though a glint of satisfaction flickered in his eyes. This was expected. Thorne only took the best, after all.


    Thorne''s eyes moved.


    "Lucenya Caelmont."


    Lucenya grinned, stretching lazily before rising to her feet. Unlike Valis, who basked in the attention, she looked entirely unbothered.


    Then -


    "Jerrik Talvain."


    A muscular, sharp-eyed student rose at the far end of the hall. Riven recognized him - one of the highest scorers in the trials, though he had kept a lower profile compared to Valis.


    Finally, Elder Thorne''s gaze landed on Riven.


    "And Riven Drakar."


    A stunned silence fell over the room.


    The tension in the hall became suffocating. Eyes darted toward Riven in disbelief. Valis stiffened visibly, his fingers tightening at his sides. Even Lucenya arched a brow, looking mildly intrigued.


    It wasn''t entirely surprising that Riven had been chosen - his performance in all three trials had been exceptional. But Elder Thorne had a well-known preference for mentoring only pure-blooded nobles.


    And Riven, the illegitimate son of a noble, was anything but that.


    For a moment, Riven simply sat there, letting the weight of the announcement settle over the room. Then, with an easy smirk, he stood, rolling his shoulders back. He strode forward, his movements measured, exuding confidence even as the heavy silence stretched. He could feel the weight of their gazes - disbelief, curiosity, resentment.


    Valis''s glare burned into him, his fists clenched so tightly his knuckles were white. Lucenya''s smirk deepened, her eyes gleaming with mischief as if she were enjoying the unfolding spectacle. Jerrik simply watched him, unreadable, his arms crossed over his chest.


    Riven took his place beside them at the front of the hall, standing tall despite the invisible pressure pressing down on him. Elder Thorne''s gaze remained steady on him for a moment longer before he continued.


    "These four will be under my instruction," Thorne announced, his voice carrying through the hall. "Their training will begin tomorrow. Expect nothing less than excellence."


    A ripple of murmurs followed his words, the tension in the room thickening as the implications set in.


    "This can''t be right," someone muttered.


    "Elder Thorne has never taken in a bastard before."


    "He''s basically a commoner with a noble''s name¡ªthere''s no way he belongs there."


    Riven almost laughed. The outrage was palpable, and frankly, entertaining.


    But he wasn''t here to prove himself to them.


    He was here to take what was his.


    Elder Thorne paid no mind to the whispers as he turned to the four of them. "Your induction begins at dawn. Report to the west courtyard before sunrise." His golden gaze lingered on Riven once more, unreadable, before he turned away.


    With that, the ceremony continued, more names called, more students assigned their mentors. But the focus never truly left them.


    As the ceremony concluded, the students were dismissed, filtering out into the corridors, still murmuring about the day''s results.


    Valis was the first to break away, his expression stormy as he turned sharply and stalked off without a word. Riven could practically see the rage simmering beneath his carefully composed exterior.


    Jerrik also disappeared, as if vanishing into thin air.


    "Well, you''re just full of surprises, aren''t you?" Lucenya mused, her brown eyes glinting with amusement as a mischievous grin spread across her face. "Are you heading to the library?"


    After the ceremony, the elders had given the students permission to explore the academy grounds, advising them to visit the library to familiarize themselves with the academy''s rules.


    Riven glanced at Lucenya, noting the sharp amusement dancing in her eyes. She was entertained by all of this¡ªby him, by the whispers, by the tension that still clung to the air like a storm waiting to break.


    Riven sighed internally, but kept his expression neutral. Lucenya had a way of making everything sound like a game, but he wasn''t sure whether that was a good thing or a bad thing.


    "I was planning to," he admitted, adjusting the cuff of his uniform. "Might as well know the rules before I accidentally break one."


    Lucenya''s grin widened. "Smart choice. Though, let''s be honest, you''ll probably break a few anyway."


    Riven shook his head with a small smile. "That''s not the plan."


    She let out an amused hum but didn''t argue, falling into step beside him as they made their way toward the library. The academy''s corridors were vast, lined with towering stone archways and glowing runes embedded in the walls, pulsing faintly with mana. Other students were scattered throughout, some wandering in groups while others moved alone, their eyes flickering toward Riven as he passed.


    The attention was relentless.


    Even now, whispers followed him.


    Lucenya stretched her arms behind her head, unbothered by the murmurs. "You know, Valis might actually explode if you keep this up."


    "I''m not trying to do anything to him," Riven said simply. "I just did what I had to during the trials."


    Lucenya chuckled. "That''s what makes it worse for him."


    They reached the entrance of the library¡ªa grand set of double doors carved with ancient sigils. As they stepped inside, the air grew noticeably cooler, and the scent of parchment and ink filled the space. Towering shelves stretched in every direction, packed with tomes, scrolls, and thick volumes bound in leather. Floating lanterns drifted lazily through the aisles, casting soft golden light over the study tables where several students were already poring over texts.


    Acolytes, much like Sana, moved silently through the rows of towering bookcases, their blindfolded faces devoid of expression. They glided between the shelves with an air of quiet authority, overseeing the students and ensuring the books were being handled properly.


    Riven scanned the towering bookshelves, his eyes following the golden-glowing script above each section to narrow his search. When he reached the Solis Academy section, he paused, momentarily taken aback by the sheer number of books available.


    Blueprints of the academy, detailed records of its history, and studies authored by esteemed elders filled the shelves, each volume meticulously arranged.


    His gaze landed on a book that appeared to be a guide to the academy¡ªexactly what he needed. Reaching up, he plucked it from the shelf, only to blink in mild surprise as another identical book materialized in its place.


    "That must be a popular one," Lucenya observed, plucking the same book from the shelf. She grinned as yet another copy appeared the moment she retrieved hers. "Well, at least they keep it stocked."


    He carried the book to a nearby table and took a seat, briefly noting the irritated glances from a group of second-year students¡ªeasily identifiable by the distinct color of their uniforms. Their displeasure was subtle but unmistakable, a silent reminder that first-years weren''t always welcome in every space.


    Not like he gave a shit.


    "So, your siblings are here too, right? Cole and Ember?" Lucenya dropped into the seat beside him, resting her chin on her hand as she studied him. "I heard they''re at the top of the second years¡ªalmost reaching their third mana circles."


    Riven barely glanced up from his book. "And?"


    Lucenya scoffed. "And? They''re practically famous in the kingdom! They''ve only been at the academy for two years, and they''re already on the verge of forming their third circles. Some of the elders here have only reached their fourth, and they''ve been training for decades."


    She raised an eyebrow, waiting for some kind of reaction.


    Riven turned a page, his expression unmoved. "Then that means they''re weak."


    Lucenya blinked. "What?"


    Riven finally looked at her, his tone as indifferent as ever. "I only formed my mana heart recently, and I''ve already reached the first circle."


    Silence.


    Lucenya studied him for a long moment, her expression unreadable before a slow, knowing smile curved her lips. "You''re really going to shake things up around here, aren''t you?" she mused. "I''m glad I decided to stick around."


    Riven raised an eyebrow. "Stick around?"


    She grinned. "Well, yeah. We''re friends now."


    He gave her a flat look. "We are not friends."


    "Hey! Don''t be like that." Lucenya pouted dramatically before leaning in slightly, lowering her voice to a playful murmur. "Being friends with me comes with many benefits, you know." Her tone dipped into something almost sultry. "I promise I won''t disappoint."


    Riven exhaled through his nose, unimpressed. He was about to tell her to cut it out when she suddenly extended her hand, placing a small vial on the open pages of his book.


    He picked it up, studying the faintly glowing liquid inside.


    [[ Scanning Item¡­ ]]


    [[ Item Received!


    Antidote Potion ¨C Neutralizes most common poisons. ]]


    Riven glanced back at her. "What''s this for?"


    Lucenya''s smile didn''t waver, but there was a glint of something more calculated in her gaze. "Think of it as a gift of goodwill." She casually glanced around the library, her eyes briefly settling on the second-years who had been glaring in their direction before returning to Riven. "You''ve made quite the impression, and not everyone''s thrilled about it. Let''s just say¡­ it never hurts to be prepared."


    "Thank you." Riven said whilst tucking the small vial into his jacket. Focusing back on the guide book, he focused on the first paragraph.


    [[ You have collected the book: Solis Academy Guide Book.


    Do you wish to download this information?


    (Yes/No) ]]


    Riven selected ''yes'' and a rush of information entered his brain.


    Suspended high above the world, Solis Academy rests upon a collection of floating islands - fragments of the once great land of Varethun that broke away and descended centuries ago. At its core stands the academy''s main building, a grand structure first erected by the founding king of Solis. Though its exterior suggests a modest size, the interior defies logic, spanning over a hundred floors and housing the entirety of the student body, as well as the esteemed Elders who oversee them.


    The academy follows a structured hierarchy, with students categorized by both their magical proficiency and their uniforms. First-years, those at the 0¨C1 circle level, wear white. Second-years, who have reached the 2¨C3 circle tier, don dark grey. Third-years, the most advanced at 4 circles and beyond, are distinguished by their golden attire. Staff members are identifiable by silver-stitched detailing, while Elders are free from any uniform requirements.


    Beyond the academy''s main grounds, numerous floating islands drift in the sky - fractures of Varethun''s landscape. Each island is unique; some are teeming with wild mana beasts and formidable creatures, while others pulse with raw, concentrated mana, offering unparalleled opportunities for growth to those daring enough to seek them out.


    Despite its prestige, Solis Academy enforces only a handful of strict rules. Duels and combat are permitted but must always be supervised by an Elder. Killing, however, is strictly forbidden. Likewise, leaving the academy grounds without explicit permission from an Elder is considered a grave offense.


    Within this extraordinary floating domain, students forge their path, pushing the boundaries of magic, strength, and ambition all to better and protect the Kingdom of Solis.


    Riven shut the book, letting the weight of the new information settle. The academy was far more impressive than he had initially thought. The fact that it was built upon remnants of Varethun explained a lot¡ªespecially the thick, almost tangible density of mana that filled the air. This place wasn''t just a prestigious institution; it was a land steeped in ancient power.


    "What, already bored of reading?" Lucenya''s voice broke through his thoughts, amusement lacing her tone.


    "Yeah, something like that," Riven muttered, pushing the book aside as he stood. Without another word, he turned and made his way out of the library.


    "Hey!" Lucenya called after him, but he didn''t bother looking back.


    Instead, he wandered the academy grounds, committing key locations to memory. If he was going to survive here, knowing the layout would be just as important as mastering his magic. His path took him through towering corridors lined with glowing sigils, past training grounds where upper-year students practiced their spells, and finally to the cafeteria.


    The scent of roasted meats and spices filled the air, and his stomach tightened in response. He hadn''t realized just how hungry he was. Using some of the money Tomas had given him earlier, he bought a generous portion of meat, piling his plate high.


    Nyx had been right¡ªhe was too skinny. His body, frail from years of neglect, had failed him more times than he cared to count. That needed to change.


    [[ I was just about to remind you to eat more protein-rich meals, but look at you! Already ahead of the curve. What an excellent student you are. ]]


    A notification window materialized in front of him, Nyx''s voice dripping with mock approval.


    Riven didn''t so much as glance at it. He simply continued eating.


    [[ Oh, come on! Stop ignoring me. ]]


    Another notification. Another moment of complete indifference from Riven.


    [[ Fine. I guess you''re not interested in the dense pocket of dark mana I just tracked down. ]]


    Riven froze mid-chew, his jaw tightening as he reread the message.


    Where? he asked mentally.


    He could practically hear Nyx''s smug laughter through the screen as another message flickered into view.


    [[ Meet me in the forest behind the academy after sunset, and I''ll show you. Of course, nothing comes for free. There''s a price. ]] sea??h th§× n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Riven swallowed his food, the sudden weight in his stomach no longer from hunger but something far more unsettling.


    What was she up to now?

 Chapter 22 - 22: The Mausoleum Part 1

    The forest behind the academy was eerily silent. Riven moved through the dense foliage with practiced ease, the moon casting pale beams through the canopy above. The air here was heavier, thicker - saturated with mana that prickled at his skin. It was different from the controlled energy within the academy walls. This was raw. Untamed.


    Riven''s skin prickled as an unsettling presence washed over him.


    [[ You''ve got followers. ]]


    He stilled, his footsteps halting as the shadows beneath him flickered and trembled, mirroring the slow burn of anger igniting in his chest.


    "So they''ve already sent spies." His voice was low, edged with quiet fury. The restraints of a leash were already beginning to tighten around his neck. Would he have to hide everything he did from now on?


    [[ I''ve detected three mages using a stealth skill in the canopy above. ]]


    Shit. S~ea??h the nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    [[ I''ve got an idea. Sit down and pretend to absorb mana. ]]


    Riven exhaled sharply but saw no other option. Moving deliberately, he lowered himself to the ground, crossing his legs as if preparing to meditate. He closed his eyes, feigning deep concentration.


    [[ Scanning¡­ ]]


    A pulse of energy rippled through him, starting from the crown of his head and flowing down to his toes like a current of static.


    [[ Scan complete. Creating copy. ]]


    Riven resisted the urge to shudder as the air around him shimmered, distorting for the briefest moment before settling.


    [[ Now, wrap the shadows around yourself and slip away into the forest. ]]


    Without hesitation, he manipulated the darkness, drawing the shadows around him like a second skin. They coiled over his form, swallowing him in an ink-like veil.


    He moved swiftly, soundlessly, toward the dense tree line ahead. As he reached the cover of the forest, he cast a glance back.


    Sitting exactly where he had been moments ago was a flawless duplicate - an illusion so perfect that even the faint rise and fall of breath was replicated.


    Riven raised a brow, begrudgingly impressed.


    [[ Aren''t I the best? ]]


    He rolled his eyes but said nothing, slipping further into the woods. The towering willows around him swayed in the soft breeze, their long branches trailing like ghostly fingers in the night air. Now that he knew these lands had once been part of Varethun, he couldn''t help but look at them differently - with a spark of something dangerously close to excitement.


    He slowed his steps as he reached the designated meeting point¡ªa clearing where the moonlight pooled like silver liquid across the forest floor. Shadows stretched unnaturally at the edges of the space, twisting and writhing like living things.


    "You said there was a place dense with dark mana." Riven''s voice was low, his gaze sweeping the surroundings. "Where?"


    A soft laugh echoed, though there was no physical form to match it. Instead, a black mist coiled in the air before him, swirling into a faint humanoid shape. Two glowing obsidian eyes flickered within the haze.


    [[ You always get straight to the point. No fun at all. ]]


    Riven crossed his arms, his voice edged with irritation. "I don''t have time for games, Nyx. Not when they''re already trying to monitor my every move."


    The shadows around Nyx pulsed once, and the air shifted. Suddenly, Riven felt it - a deep, thrumming presence beneath the ground. Dark mana, old and potent, radiated from somewhere below.


    He took a step forward, the sensation intensifying. The power here was suffocating, pressing against his skin in slow, deliberate waves.


    "Where is it coming from?" he asked, keeping his tone even.


    Nyx''s grin widened, and she spoke without the system this time. "Beneath you."


    Riven narrowed his eyes, kneeling to brush his fingers against the damp earth. As soon as his skin made contact, something within him stirred - his own mana responding, resonating with the presence below. The shadows curled instinctively around his hand, eager.


    He clenched his jaw. "There''s something down there."


    "Very perceptive, your highness." Nyx said with her hands on her hips.


    He focused on the energy pulsing beneath him. This wasn''t just lingering mana - it was something contained, restrained¡­ as if it had been sealed long ago.


    His fingers pressed deeper into the damp earth. The shadows around him flickered with anticipation, reacting to whatever lay below.


    "This isn''t just a mana-rich pocket you''ve found," Riven muttered. "It''s like a vault."


    Nyx''s obsidian eyes gleamed with something close to delight. "A mausoleum, actually."


    Riven''s head snapped up. "A what?"


    "A burial site," she clarified, stepping closer. "Or more accurately, a prison."


    The ground beneath him seemed to hum in response. He could feel it now¡ªlayers upon layers of old magic, tightly woven like chains. This wasn''t just any burial ground. This was a place meant to keep something in.


    Riven''s stomach tightened. "And you brought me here why, exactly?"


    Nyx shrugged, feigning innocence. "We needed dark mana, didn''t we? This place is loaded with it."


    A deep exhale left Riven''s lips. He already knew this was reckless. Digging into a place that the academy likely didn''t even know existed? Whatever was sealed here had been left alone for a reason.


    And if this was related to Varethun? It was even more of a reason to leave this place alone.


    But¡­ the lure of dark mana, untainted and ancient, was impossible to ignore.


    "Fine," he said at last, standing. "How do we open it?"


    Nyx''s grin widened. "I thought you''d never ask."


    She raised a hand, and the shadows around them reacted instantly, shifting unnaturally as if something unseen was moving beneath the surface.


    [[ Activating: Shadow Engraving ]]


    A surge of information flooded Riven''s mind. Symbols, glyphs, ancient markings burned themselves into his memory. His body moved instinctively, tracing the lines of an unfamiliar magic circle in the air, his mana latching onto the runes effortlessly.


    The ground beneath them shuddered.


    Cracks split the earth, widening into jagged lines as mana pulsed outward. The wind howled, and the air thickened with something Riven could only describe as presence.


    Then¡­ silence.


    A deep, hollow click reverberated through the clearing.


    And the ground caved in.


    Riven barely had time to react before the earth beneath him vanished, and he was falling.


    ¡ªx¡ª


    The descent was brief but jarring. Riven landed hard, shadows cushioning his fall just before he hit the stone floor. Dust clouded the air as loose debris tumbled from above.


    Nyx''s form materialized beside him, perfectly unscathed. "Well, that was dramatic."


    Riven pushed himself up, scanning their surroundings. The chamber was massive, its walls lined with ancient carvings glowing faintly with runes. Statues of armored figures loomed in the darkness, their expressions frozen in grim determination.


    But what drew his attention wasn''t the statues. It was the door at the far end of the chamber.


    It was colossal¡ªtwenty feet high, made of obsidian stone that pulsed with dark energy. Thick chains wrapped around it, inscribed with runes that still hummed faintly with mana, though time had weakened them.


    Something was locked behind it.


    Something powerful.


    Nyx exhaled, sounding almost giddy. "Oh, this is even better than I expected."


    Riven turned to her, his expression unreadable. "Tell me what''s behind that door."


    Nyx''s violet eyes glowed. "The remnants of a forgotten age. A relic of Varethun''s past."


    A relic.


    Memories surfaced of the moment he had been pulled into the Abyss after learning his fireball skill. The suffocating darkness. The weight of unseen eyes. And most of all, the voice.


    "Beware¡­ the academy¡­ find the relic¡­ Abyss Born."


    Riven''s jaw tightened. Could that warning have been about this place?


    His gaze flicked to Nyx, who was still running her fingers over the remnants of the chains sealing the mausoleum door.


    "Nyx," he said slowly, his voice steady. "Are there any other Abyss Born like you still around today?"


    Nyx turned to him, blinking in surprise. "Most of them descended back into the Abyss when Velmorian was destroyed," she said, her tone carrying a rare note of sadness. "They''ve been slumbering ever since, waiting for the next heir to rise." Her obsidian eyes studied him, curiosity glinting beneath the melancholy. "Why? Did you meet someone other than me?"


    "I¡­ think so." Riven frowned, trying to pull the memory into focus. It was like grasping at fog. "My mind was hazy at the time, but I''m sure they gave me a warning about this place. And they mentioned a relic."


    Nyx went silent, thoughtful. Then, slowly, a smile crept across her face, sharp and full of excitement. "Perhaps the awakening has already begun." She turned back to the massive door, placing both hands against its surface. "All the more reason to blow this wide open."


    Before she could make another move, Riven reached out, gripping her shadow-wrapped shoulder. She stiffened, glancing back at him with mild surprise.


    "There''s something I''ve been meaning to ask since you told me about Velmorian." His blue eyes met hers, unwavering. "How was he destroyed?"


    For a moment, something flickered across Nyx''s face¡ªan emotion too raw for her usual playful facade. Her glowing eyes widened, then darkened as she looked away.


    "That¡­" Her voice was quieter now, almost distant. "¡­is a story for another time."


    Riven didn''t press. Whatever had happened to Velmorian, it was still a wound she wasn''t ready to reveal. Instead, he turned his attention back to the mausoleum, scanning the chamber for anything that might hint at what lay behind the door.


    His gaze fell once more on the statues lining the walls.


    Something was off.


    "I thought there weren''t any humans in Varethun." His voice was barely above a murmur as he stepped closer, examining the armored figures. "So why are these statues human? Shouldn''t they be dragons?"


    Nyx tilted her head, then chuckled, trailing a shadowy hand over the helmet of one of the statues. "Who knows?" she mused. "Maybe there were humans who ascended before Velmorian. Or perhaps the dragons could shift forms. There are no records of Varethun left. Everything we know is fragments, speculation." Her fingers drummed lightly against the stone helm. "In the end, all we can do is theorize."


    A deep rumble reverberated through the chamber, sending vibrations through the stone floor. Riven instinctively took a step back from the statue, his muscles tensing. Across the room, Nyx moved toward the chained door, placing her hands against the cold obsidian surface once more.


    "It knows we''re here," she murmured, barely above a whisper.


    Riven''s mind raced. If whatever was behind this door could sense them, then it was either still alive¡ªor something far worse.


    "System," he said, keeping his voice steady, "can you scan what''s behind this door?"


    [[ Conducting area scan¡­ Please wait¡­ ]]


    A flicker of hope surged in his chest. The system had pulled off impossible feats before¡ªmaybe this time it could unveil the mystery lurking within.


    A red notification appeared.


    [[ Attempt failed. ]]


    [[ Access restricted. ]]


    Riven''s stomach tightened. "Restricted?!"


    Nyx chuckled, utterly amused by his frustration. "Did you really think it was going to be that easy?"


    Before Riven could snap back, the chamber rumbled again¡ªthis time, more violently. Dust and debris rained down from the ceiling as the vibrations sent deep cracks through the stone beneath them. Riven braced himself against the crumbling wall, fingers digging into the rough surface to keep steady.


    Then, a voice.


    Deep, guttural, ancient.


    "Why do you come here, child of shadow?"


    Nyx flinched back from the door, her usually playful demeanor vanishing in an instant. The air thickened, pressing against them like an unseen weight.


    Riven''s breath stilled. His instincts screamed at him to run, but he forced himself to stay rooted.


    "¡­Who are you?" he asked, his voice steady despite the tension clawing at his spine.


    Nyx stepped in front of him, her stance shifting almost protectively. It was subtle¡ªbut he noticed.


    The voice rumbled again, vibrating through the walls, through him.


    "I am Waunuk of the Obsidian Realm." The name carried a weight that sent a chill down Riven''s spine. "I am the master of secrets, lies, and deception."


    Riven flicked a glance at Nyx, searching for any recognition in her expression. But for once, she was silent.


    His fingers curled into a fist. He had a more pressing question.


    "Why are you sealed here?"


    Silence stretched for a heartbeat¡ªthen a slow, low chuckle filled the chamber, dark and knowing.


    "If you seek that answer," Waunuk''s voice hummed with amusement, "then step forward and enter my tomb."

 Chapter 23 - 23: The Mausoleum Part 2

    A tense silence settled over the chamber. The weight of the unseen presence pressed against Riven''s skin, as if something ancient was watching - waiting.


    Nyx was the first to break the silence. "Well," she said, forcing lightness into her voice, "that''s not ominous at all."


    Riven barely spared her a glance. His gaze remained locked on the colossal door before them.


    Waunuk of the Obsidian Realm.


    He had never heard the name before, but he felt its weight. Like an echo of something buried in the marrow of his bones.


    Riven exhaled sharply as he stepped forward, his fingers hovering just above the chains.


    "This is probably a terrible idea," he muttered. "But I''m doing it anyway."


    He pressed his hand against the cold stone and the moment his skin made contact, the door reacted.


    The runes along the chains ignited in a deep, sickly blue, flickering between existence and nothingness. A tremor ran through the floor, and then the chains shattered.


    The heavy clang of metal echoed through the chamber as the chains hit the floor, and the doors groaned as they began to shudder open.


    A rush of cold air swept through the room, thick with dust and something that smelt like decay. Riven shielded his eyes as the wind battered against his skin.


    "Enter." The voice was even louder now, the sound reverberating through Rivens bones. He lowered his hands and peered into the void that lay beyond the now opened doors.


    Riven glanced at Nyx, whose obsidian eyes gleamed in the dim light. "Ladies first?"


    She let out a scoffing noise and put a hand on her hip. "Wow, how gentlemanly of you, your highness."


    Without further hesitation, Nyx stepped forward with Riven close behind her. The moment they crossed the threshold, a sharp snap rang through the chamber.


    The doors slammed shut behind them and darkness swallowed everything.


    For a brief moment, there was nothing.


    No light. No sound. Only the suffocating weight of the void pressing against his skin. Then, like ink dissolving into water, the darkness began to stir - shifting, unraveling.


    Faint, ghostly blue light flickered to life, revealing their surroundings.


    They were in a vast underground hall, stretching endlessly into the shadows. The architecture was unlike anything Riven had ever seen¡ªdark obsidian walls etched with ancient carvings, shifting as if alive. The floor was smooth stone, reflecting the dim light in eerie, rippling waves, as if it were liquid rather than solid.


    Nyx''s voice broke the silence, her tone soft. "Wow¡­ it''s kind of beautiful."


    Riven exhaled through his nose, scanning their surroundings. "Stay alert. We don''t know what''s waiting for us."


    A chuckle. Low, deep and amused.


    "There is nothing to fear in these halls, little king."


    Riven and Nyx froze as they heard the voice.


    Nyx''s usual smirk faded, her expression sharpening as she instinctively stepped in front of Riven, arm raised in a protective stance. "You know who he is?" she demanded, her voice devoid of its usual teasing edge.


    "Continue forward, and I shall answer all," the voice urged, echoing through the chamber.


    This time, Nyx hesitated.


    Riven placed a hand on her arm, his grip firm but steady. "We''ve come this far," he murmured. "No point turning back now."


    Nyx gave a small nod, and they pressed forward.


    The next chamber was vast, circular in shape, with a towering domed ceiling. Faded murals stretched across the stone, their once-vibrant colors now dulled by time and dust. The remnants of grandeur clung to the air, an echo of a past long forgotten.


    But Riven barely spared the architecture a glance.


    His focus was entirely consumed by the thing bound in the center of the room.


    "Is that¡­ a dragon?" Riven''s voice was barely above a whisper, his wide eyes fixed on the figure before him.


    "Well," Nyx murmured, just as stunned, "what''s left of one."


    At the heart of the chamber lay the massive skeletal remains of a dragon. Its colossal wings were bound in thick, rusted chains, each bone locked in place as if to prevent even the idea of movement. Its head was stretched forward, facing Riven directly, another set of chains coiled tightly around its jaws - silencing whatever final words it might have once spoken.


    "I told you that there is nothing to fear from me young ones," The voice echoed through the room once more. "These old bones are all that''s left of the once Mighty Waunuk."


    Nyx crossed her arms, tilting her head as she eyed the remains. "You''ll have to excuse my skepticism," she said, voice edged with something unreadable. "But you don''t exactly seem alive enough to be speaking."


    A low, rumbling chuckle rolled through the chamber. "Perception is an amusing thing, child of shadows. My body is long gone, but my essence¡­ lingers."


    "Can you tell me now why you were sealed here?" Riven asked, stepping forward cautiously.


    A strained breath echoed through the chamber, the voice thick with something between pain and exhaustion.


    "No¡­" The word rasped out, as if the effort to speak was becoming unbearable. "But I can show you."


    The chains binding the dragon rattled, a deep, metallic groan reverberating through the stone. Nyx''s hand shot out, gripping Riven''s wrist instinctively.


    Then¡ªthe dragon''s hollow eyes ignited.


    A dark blue glow pulsed from the empty sockets, growing brighter, denser, until it consumed the entire chamber in an eerie radiance. The energy coiled and then shot forward, streaking toward Riven with terrifying speed.


    He barely had time to react before the light engulfed him¡ªand his world went black.


    ¡ªx¡ª


    "Waunuk, you have finally been captured and stand before the Five Kings to face judgment."


    The voice was ancient, heavy with authority, each word laced with the weight of an undeniable truth.


    Riven''s vision flickered, shifting from darkness to a scene unfolding before him.


    "Will you now confess to the sins you have committed?"


    Riven now stood within a gargantuan throne room, its sheer scale so vast he couldn''t even glimpse the ceiling. The towering stained-glass windows stretched endlessly upward, fading into a blinding expanse of light that obscured the heavens above.


    Encircling him were five colossal podiums, each adorned with an ornate golden seat. Upon each throne sat a dragon of immeasurable size and presence, their forms radiating an ancient, overwhelming authority.


    The first was a brilliant crimson, its scales shifting between hues of molten fire, shimmering with an almost palpable heat. Embedded across its body were ruby gemstones, each glowing faintly as if pulsing with a heartbeat of their own.


    The others mirrored its regality, each radiating with a different colour.


    One gleamed like diamond, its body a prism of pure, unyielding light. Another radiated a deep, rich green like emeralds, its scales sparkling like a forest in spring. A third shone with the piercing clarity of sapphire, its body reflecting an endless depth like the ocean itself.


    And the last¡­


    The amethyst dragon sat motionless, its violet hues dark and enigmatic - it looked the most unbothered out of them all.


    They watched him. Judged him.


    And Riven, despite knowing this was not his body, felt the weight of their gaze settle over him like chains.


    The silence in the throne room was suffocating, a heavy force pressing against Riven''s chest. He knew¡ªfelt¡ªthis wasn''t real. Not in the way the present was. But his body was no longer his own. His breaths, slow and measured, were not his. His movements, his posture¡ªforeign yet familiar, as though his very essence had been woven into another being''s past.


    Waunuk''s past.


    Before him, the Five Kings loomed in their golden thrones, each dragon an embodiment of an elemental force. Their gazes burned through him, the sheer weight of their presence enough to make his soul tremble.


    The red dragon, its molten-crimson scales flickering like living fire, leaned forward first. Its ruby-encrusted body shimmered, each gemstone pulsating as it spoke, voice crackling like an inferno barely contained.


    "Waunuk of the Obsidian Realm," it rumbled. "You stand before the High Council accused of treason against Varethun. Will you confess your sins?"


    Riven felt his own mouth curve¡ªnot his own will, but something ancient, something that remembered standing in this very place.


    A voice not his own, yet his, spilled forth.


    "Treason?" A chuckle¡ªdark, sharp, mocking. "Is that what you call it?"


    The sapphire dragon, deep and unwavering like the vast ocean, lifted its head, speaking next. "Do you deny your actions?"


    Waunuk¡ªRiven¡ªlaughed again, the sound bitter, edged with something deeply broken.


    "I deny nothing," he¡ªWaunuk¡ªsaid, the words spilling effortlessly, like they had been waiting to be spoken for centuries. "But let us not pretend this is a trial. My fate was sealed the moment I refused to accept the ridiculous rules you all put in place."


    The emerald dragon''s tail flicked against the polished marble, the sound like a distant storm rolling in. "You help him ascend." The dragons voice was filled with an unwavering fury. "You know it is forbidden for us to ascend higher than our plane - now we will suffer the wrath of them."


    Something in Waunuk shifted, a surge of raw defiance flaring within his borrowed chest. Riven felt it as if it were his own rage, his own pain¡ªan emotion so consuming it burned like a second heartbeat.


    "It is our right to ascend just as it is the humans right to ascend should they wish," Waunuk growled, and the chamber trembled at his words. "You fear the unknown - anything that will disrupt your pathetic cling to power."


    The amethyst dragon, silent until now, finally moved. Its violet eyes, deep as the void itself, bore into him. Unlike the others, it did not radiate fury or disappointment. No judgment. No wrath.


    Only¡­ understanding.


    And yet, when it spoke, its voice was cold.


    "You were meant to protect Varethun. Instead, you sought to change its course. Not through counsel. Not through unity." A pause. "But through your own selfish desire."


    A cruel smile played on Waunuk''s¡ªhis¡ªlips. "Is that what they told you?"


    The diamond dragon, its body shimmering like celestial starlight, exhaled slowly. "Enough."


    A pulse of magic¡ªso ancient, so immense, that Riven felt his very soul quiver beneath it¡ªswept through the chamber. The air thickened. The verdict was coming.


    "Waunuk of the Obsidian Realm," the diamond dragon intoned, voice layered with power, finality, and an eerie remorse. "You are hereby sentenced to eternal imprisonment, your soul bound in chains of unbreakable mana, never to rise again.


    The chains.


    The very chains Riven had seen wrapped around the skeletal remains in the mausoleum. The ones he had shattered.


    Riven was confused. So Wanauk was imprisoned because he apparently helped someone ascend? But that didn''t make any sense. Varethun was the highest power - the precipice of power that all humans sought to reach


    So¡­ where could they ascend to?


    Before Riven could process further, a new force pulled at him, yanking his consciousness from the trial, from the throne room, from the past itself.


    The world fractured-


    And then, he was falling.


    ¡ª x ¡ª


    Riven gasped, his chest heaving as his mind was wrenched back into his own body. His vision blurred, the weight of the past pressing heavily on his lungs, making it difficult to breathe.


    A voice cut through the haze - sharp and frustrated, but laced with undeniable concern.


    "Finally!"


    Nyx.


    Riven blinked as his vision adjusted, the dim glow of the chamber flickering back into focus. He became aware of the cold, dusty floor beneath him¡ªand something warmer beneath his head.


    Nyx''s lap.


    She was leaning over him, her obsidian eyes scanning his face for any sign of consciousness. Her expression was unreadable, but there was something in her tense grip¡ªone hand braced against his chest, as if she had been trying to wake him for far longer than she wanted to admit.


    "Do you know how worried I was?!" Nyx snapped.


    Riven groaned, rubbing his pounding head as he struggled to sit up. "What¡­?" His voice was hoarse, his body still reeling from the force of the vision. His limbs felt wrong, as if they had been submerged in someone else''s existence for too long.


    He forced himself upright, rolling his shoulders to shake off the eerie sensation of displacement. His gaze flicked back toward the remains of Waunuk. The once-mighty skeleton was trembling¡ªcracking, as though the very act of speaking had pushed it beyond its limits.


    Waunuk''s voice emerged again, but this time, it was frail, stretched thin with exhaustion.


    "I cannot¡­ show you everything¡­ but I hope it has granted you¡­ a large part¡­ of the truth."


    The chamber shuddered, deep cracks splintering across the stone floor. The chains that had bound Waunuk shattered, vanishing into the void like dust in the wind. His colossal form trembled, his very bones collapsing inward.


    Nyx tensed, rising to her feet and stepping back instinctively.


    Riven remained where he was, watching.


    Waunuk was fading.


    "¡­Though I can finally rest," the dragon murmured, his voice barely more than a whisper now, "I ask¡­ for one last¡­ favor."


    A deep rumble filled the air, the vibrations rattling through the chamber. Waunuk''s massive form cracked and then¡ª


    He disintegrated.


    Bone turned to dust, swirling into the air like a final breath released after centuries of captivity. The energy within the chamber pulsed, rippling outward in a silent farewell.


    As the dust cleared, something remained.


    Something small.


    Something alive.


    A single, obsidian-black egg rested in the center of the remains, untouched by time or decay. The surface was flawless, smooth as polished stone, yet deep within, veins of iridescent blue light flickered, pulsing like a heartbeat.


    A Dragon''s Egg.


    "When you reach the top¡­" Waunuk''s voice¡ªnow only a whisper on the wind¡ªechoed one last time. "¡­Deliver this child¡­ to their father."


    And then, silence.


    A slow, hollow whoosh filled the chamber as the remnants of Waunuk''s presence vanished, leaving nothing behind but the weight of his final words.


    For a moment, neither of them moved.


    Nyx was the first to break the silence.


    "Oh my god."


    Her voice trembled as her wide, stunned eyes locked onto the egg resting in the dust.


    Riven could do nothing but stare. S~ea??h the n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Waunuk''s last wish.


    A dragon heir.


    And now, it belonged to them.

 Chapter 24 - 24: The First Clash

    Riven stared at the egg, disbelief flickering across his features. The weight of what had just happened¡ªthe revelation, the vision, the trial of a dragon long sealed away¡ªpressed heavily upon him, yet his focus was wholly consumed by the small, obsidian relic left behind.


    It pulsed, almost imperceptibly, with a rhythm that felt eerily alive.


    "So¡­ Waunuk was a girl?" Nyx murmured absentmindedly, her wide-eyed gaze still locked on the egg.


    Riven exhaled, steadying himself as he took a slow step forward. "It seems so." His voice was quiet, laced with something unreadable.


    His legs felt unsteady as he approached the stand where Waunuk had once been. The sheer pressure of the mana radiating from the egg was overwhelming¡ªthick, suffocating, ancient. Waves of raw energy rolled over him, curling around his skin like unseen tendrils, and a violent shudder ran down his spine in response.


    He hesitated, his hands hovering mere inches from the darkened shell.


    The shadows reacted before he did.


    They rose from his fingertips, shifting and writhing like living things, drawn to the pulsing energy before them. They stretched forward, eager¡ªhungry.


    The egg pulsed again, its surface shimmering as if in recognition.


    He carefully lifted the egg into his hands, surprised by the unexpected warmth radiating from its shell. Instead of the cold, lifeless texture he had anticipated, it pulsed with a gentle heat, as if something deep within was stirring¡ªaware of his touch.


    [[ Item Acquired! Analyzing¡­ ]]


    [[ Obsidian Dragon Egg ]]


    [[ Rank: ??? ]]


    [[ A relic from a land beyond human reach. Sustained for centuries by Waunuk of the Obsidian Realm, who sacrificed its own life force to keep this egg alive. ]]


    [[ Status: Hatchable ]]


    "It''s really alive in there." Riven''s voice was barely above a whisper as he held the egg closer, feeling the warmth pulsing beneath his fingertips. "A real baby dragon."


    Nyx placed a hand over the egg, and for a brief moment, the shadows composing her form quivered, as if responding to its presence. "This could get complicated," she murmured. "The academy is no place for a dragon."


    Riven exhaled, running a hand through his hair. "If it hasn''t hatched after all this time, I doubt it''ll do so anytime soon." Still, the weight of the situation pressed against him. The academy was already keeping him under strict watch¡ªsmuggling a dragon egg into his dorm would be reckless.


    He frowned in thought before an idea surfaced. "System, is there a way to store this egg? Like in the inventory?"


    [[ Adding ''Obsidian Dragon Egg'' to inventory¡­ ]]


    A soft glow enveloped the egg, a brilliant blue light wrapping around it in cascading waves before it vanished from his hands.


    Riven let out a slow breath of relief. "Well, that''s convenient."


    Nyx chuckled, stretching before letting herself drop onto the cold stone floor. "At least we found a place rich in dark mana." She closed her eyes, her body half-melded into the shadows.


    Riven sat beside her, resting his elbows on his knees. His gaze flickered across the ruined chamber, the lingering traces of Waunuk''s presence still heavy in the air.


    "And the academy has no idea it exists," he muttered, his lips curving into a small smirk. "This place might just be the perfect escape from their watchful eyes."


    "Exactly." Nyx grinned, settling into a relaxed position as she closed her eyes. "Let it be recorded in history that this was the place where the mighty King Riven''s most powerful warrior finally forged her mortal shell."


    Riven chuckled, shaking his head. "Is that so?" He mirrored her actions, shutting his eyes as he reached out with his senses, attuning himself to the mana-rich air. "Then I suppose I can''t afford to fall behind."


    Nyx''s soft laughter drifted through his mind, light and fleeting, like chimes carried on a midnight breeze.


    Then, the chamber fell into a deep, unbroken silence.


    [[ Entering Meditation¡­ ]]


    [[ Would you like to begin mana absorption? ]]


    [[ Yes / No ]]


    Without hesitation, Riven selected ''Yes''¡ªand the shift was immediate.


    The dark mana coiling in the chamber responded instantly, swirling toward him in a spiraling vortex, thick and potent. As it seeped into his body, a deep exhale left his lips, the energy thrumming through his core like an awakening storm.


    It was going to be a long night.


    ¡ªx¡ª


    The dark night sky had begun its slow shift into violet, marking the arrival of dawn as Riven emerged from the mausoleum. The air was crisp, tinged with the lingering energy of the ancient chamber behind him.


    Following Nyx''s advice, he wrapped himself in shadows once more, his presence blending seamlessly into the dim light. Moving swiftly and silently, he crept back to where his fake double remained, still seated in perfect meditation.


    ''Dismiss copy, System.''


    At his silent command, a ripple of distortion passed through the air. The illusion flickered once¡ªthen vanished, leaving only Riven in its place.


    Stretching lazily, he feigned the motions of someone who had spent the entire night in quiet meditation, yawning loudly before casually rising to his feet. With an unhurried pace, he made his way back toward the academy, his thoughts already shifting toward what lay ahead. S§×arch* The n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    As he crossed the threshold of the academy, a smirk tugged at his lips. The hidden mages¡ªhis silent observers¡ªwere finally dispersing, slipping back into the shadows to await another time when Riven would go off on his own.


    Riven exhaled sharply, shaking his head as he strode down the corridor leading to the first-year dormitories. Time was tight, but he had just enough to wash up and prepare before facing Elder Thorne for their first lesson.


    ¡ªx¡ª


    The morning air was crisp and unyielding, carrying the quiet promise of a grueling day ahead. The west courtyard, reserved for elite training, stretched wide before them¡ªan open space bordered by towering stone pillars, enchanted runes flickering faintly along their surfaces.


    The moment Riven stepped onto the training grounds, he felt it¡ªthe pressure of expectation.


    Elder Thorne stood in the center of the field, arms crossed, his golden eyes sharp and assessing. He radiated an undeniable authority, his presence alone enough to demand silence without a word.


    The others had already arrived.


    Valis Dain stood with his usual arrogant poise, arms clasped behind his back, his expression carefully neutral¡ªbut Riven didn''t miss the flicker of irritation in his gaze when he spotted him. Lucenya, by contrast, lounged with a lazy smirk, her hands resting behind her head as if this were nothing more than a casual meeting. Jerrik Talvain stood apart, his sharp gaze assessing, silent as ever.


    Riven slowed his stride, stopping a few paces away from them.


    "Good," Thorne said finally, his voice even, yet somehow cutting through the stillness. "You''re all here."


    He let his gaze sweep over them, as if weighing their worth in a single glance.


    "You four were chosen for a reason. You represent the strongest of your year, the ones who have the most potential¡ªand the most to prove."


    Valis straightened at that, his jaw tightening. Lucenya merely grinned, unbothered.


    Thorne continued, stepping closer. "But raw talent means nothing here. What matters is discipline. Strength. Growth. If you cannot adapt, if you cannot push yourselves beyond your limits¡ªyou will be left behind."


    His golden eyes locked onto Riven''s, lingering for a beat too long.


    Riven smirked, unbothered.


    He wasn''t planning on being left behind.


    Thorne turned away, striding toward the far end of the courtyard. "Your training begins now. This session will test your mana control, endurance, and combat adaptability. Follow me."


    They were led to the edge of a massive stone platform, embedded with ancient runes. A barrier shimmered above it, casting a faint golden glow across the training field.


    "This is a Gravity Chamber," Thorne stated, his tone measured yet firm. "Once you step inside, the gravitational force will triple, pressing down on your body with unrelenting weight. Your task is to circulate your mana throughout your form¡ªmaintaining control and precision despite the strain. The better your mastery, the more efficient you will become in mana control."


    Lucenya whistled. "This sounds like it''s going to be very unpleasant."


    Thorne didn''t acknowledge the remark. "Step in."


    Without hesitation, Valis was the first to move, stepping onto the platform. The moment his foot crossed the threshold, a pulse of energy rippled through the space. His muscles tensed, but he clenched his jaw, forcing himself to remain standing.


    Lucenya was next, rolling her shoulders before stepping in. She staggered¡ªjust slightly¡ªbefore catching herself, a grin still plastered across her face.


    Jerrik followed, his expression unreadable. His stance barely faltered, but Riven could see the strain in the way his fingers curled into fists.


    Riven took his turn last.


    The moment he entered, the weight slammed into him. It felt like thick chains had been wrapped around his entire body, dragging him toward the ground. His knees buckled slightly before he forced them to lock in place.


    He exhaled slowly.


    It was uncomfortable, yes. But not unbearable.


    "Your task is simple," Thorne said, watching them from the outside. "Last as long as you can. The longer you endure, the easier your mana circulation will become. Use your energy wisely."


    Riven adjusted his stance, letting his mana flow through his limbs, reinforcing his muscles. It helped¡­ somewhat.


    Valis had closed his eyes, regulating his breathing, his expression blank. Lucenya was humming under her breath as if this was an easy task. Jerrik, as expected, remained eerily composed, his arms crossed over his broad chest.


    Minutes stretched into what felt like hours.


    The gravity was unrelenting. Sweat dripped from Riven''s brow, but he gritted his teeth, refusing to yield.


    Then - Valis moved.


    A flicker of mana crackled around his form, and in the next breath, he attacked.


    Riven dodged just in time, stepping aside as Valis''s strike cut through the air where he had been standing.


    "Oh?" Lucenya''s grin widened. "Guess we''re fighting now."


    Jerrik shifted slightly, muscles tensing, but he did not move¡ªyet.


    Elder Thorne watched, unmoving. Silent approval.


    So that''s how it was going to be.


    Riven turned, shadows curling at his fingertips as he met Valis''s gaze.


    Just as he was about to strike, Riven exhaled sharply, forcing the shadows to retreat beneath his skin. Revealing his dark abilities now would only complicate things¡ªdrawing too much attention, making it far more difficult to strengthen himself in secret.


    He needed to be smart. He couldn''t let anger dictate his actions.


    Besides, he had other options.


    With a flick of his wrist, he launched a fireball, its trajectory shifting mid-flight, curving sharply toward Valis''s retreating form.


    The fireball twisted through the air like a serpent, its trajectory shifting mid-flight as it barreled toward Valis''s retreating form. The golden-haired noble barely had time to react - his eyes flickered with surprise before he raised a hand, summoning a shimmering barrier of mana just in time.


    Boom.


    The explosion sent a ripple of force outward, scattering dust across the Gravity Chamber. Valis skidded back a step, his shield holding firm but flickering under the strain. His expression hardened as he shot Riven a look of pure disdain.


    Riven smirked. Predictable.


    He had no intention of making this easy.


    Before Valis could recover, Riven moved. Despite the crushing weight of the chamber, he pushed forward, weaving mana through his limbs, reinforcing his muscles to adapt to the intense gravity.


    One step. Two.


    His body protested against the strain, but he adjusted. Faster. More controlled.


    Valis barely had time to reorient himself before Riven was upon him.


    Their first clash was fast and brutal.


    Riven aimed low, forcing Valis to parry downward¡ªjust as he anticipated. The moment their arms made contact, Riven twisted, shifting his stance, using the gravity against Valis rather than fighting it. He forced Valis''s balance off, sending him lurching backward.


    Valis''s eyes flashed, but he reacted quickly, spinning on his heel to reset his footing. He retaliated immediately, mana surging around him like a sharp gust of wind.


    Lightning.


    A thin arc of golden electricity crackled along Valis''s palm before he thrust it forward.


    Riven cursed under his breath, twisting his body just in time to avoid a direct hit. The lightning strike barely missed his ribs, grazing his sleeve instead. He could feel the static heat lingering in the air.


    He needed to be careful. Lightning magic was fast.


    Valis smirked. "You''re quick, I''ll give you that."


    "And you''re still predictable," Riven shot back, rolling his shoulders as the gravity pressed down harder.


    Lucenya''s amused voice rang from behind them. "You boys sure are eager to kill each other first thing in the morning."


    Riven didn''t respond. His focus was entirely on Valis.


    Jerrik remained silent, observing, arms crossed as he analyzed their movements.


    Elder Thorne, still standing at the edge of the chamber, watched with sharp golden eyes¡ªbut made no move to stop them.


    This was part of the test.


    Fine. Then let''s see how much we can push this.


    Riven inhaled slowly, rolling his neck as he prepared his next move. He couldn''t use his shadows¡ªnot yet. But that didn''t mean he was out of options.


    Valis shifted his stance slightly, adjusting, his muscles tensed in preparation.


    Riven smirked.


    And then he vanished.


    ¡ªor at least, that''s what it seemed like.


    A feint. He used the intense gravity to alter his movement speed, shifting his weight in a sudden burst that made it seem like he had disappeared from Valis''s line of sight.


    Valis''s eyes widened, caught off guard for just a fraction of a second.


    And that was all Riven needed.


    He struck.


    His fist connected solidly against Valis''s side. The force wasn''t just from the impact¡ªit was the gravity, the increased weight behind his movements that made it feel like being hit by a hammer.


    Valis staggered.


    For the first time, his composure cracked.


    Riven couldn''t help the grin spreading across his face as he lifted his fist up high before bringing it down over and over again on Valis''s face. The gravity was piling up on Riven and he found it harder and harder to move, the adrenaline becoming the only thing left powering his muscles.


    He wasn''t very good and close combat fighting because he hadn''t trained in it yet. But, he used his anger to fuel his movements - and god did it feel good pummelling Valis''s stupid face.


    Valis let out an annoyed yell and a crackle filled the air as he shot out a streak of lightning and it hit Riven squarely in the chest, shooting him backwards.


    Silence filled the small chamber as both Riven and Valis gasping for air.


    Riven''s chest heaved, his muscles screaming under the pressure, but a crooked smirk still tugged at his lips. Across from him, Valis was in no better condition, a trickle of blood seeping from the corner of his mouth where Riven''s fist had landed. His golden eyes were ablaze with unrestrained fury.


    For a moment, neither of them moved.


    Then -


    A slow, deliberate clap echoed through the chamber.


    Lucenya''s laughter followed immediately after. "Now that was entertaining," she mused, stepping forward with an easy grin. "But I''d say you boys are about two seconds away from killing each other."


    Jerrik, who had been silent throughout the exchange, finally exhaled, shaking his head. "Impressive. Stupid¡ªbut impressive."


    Riven groaned as he sat up, feeling the residual ache where Valis''s lightning had struck him. He had underestimated the impact of it. Even with his mana reinforcing his body, the electrical burn still tingled across his ribs.


    Valis pushed himself up from the ground, wiping the blood from his lip. His jaw was clenched so tightly Riven was half-convinced he''d crack a tooth.


    "This isn''t over," Valis muttered, low and dangerous.


    Riven sighed as he pulled himself up. "Yeah, yeah, whatever."


    A flicker of unrestrained anger flashed across Valis''s features before he turned away sharply, stalking to the edge of the chamber. He knew better than to lash out further¡ªnot under Elder Thorne''s watchful gaze.


    Speaking of which¡ª


    "Enough." Thorne''s voice was like steel, cold and unyielding.


    The moment he spoke, the gravity in the chamber vanished.


    Riven exhaled in relief, rolling his shoulders as the suffocating weight lifted from his body. His limbs still ached, but the worst of the strain faded now that the rune''s effect had dissipated.


    Thorne strode forward, his golden eyes sharp as they swept over them all.


    "You lack control," he stated, gaze locked onto Valis. "You let emotion dictate your actions. A true warrior remains disciplined, no matter the opponent."


    Valis''s fists curled at his sides, but he didn''t respond.


    Then, Thorne turned to Riven.


    "And you¡­" His gaze lingered a fraction too long. "You fight as if you have something to prove. Reckless. Unrefined. You may have have landed a good few hits, but if this had been a real battle, you would be dead."


    Riven''s jaw tightened, but he held his tongue.


    Because Thorne wasn''t wrong.


    He had relied too much on instinct, allowing his frustration with Valis to push him into direct combat rather than strategizing. The rush of anger had been useful¡ªbut dangerous. If Valis had been stronger, or faster, that last attack would have ended him.


    Lesson learned.


    Thorne let the silence stretch before speaking again. "This exercise was to test your adaptability. To see how well you handle stress and exhaustion. What I''ve witnessed today¡­" His lips pressed into a thin line. "Is far from impressive."


    Lucenya groaned. "Oh come on, Jerrik and I didn''t even do anything!"


    Thorne turned his gaze to her, and she immediately shut up.


    Elder Thorne exhaled sharply, his golden gaze sweeping over the group with clear disapproval. "Take a seat on the stone platform," he ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Demonstrate how you absorb mana." His eyes flicked between Riven and Valis before he added dryly, "I trust you can manage that without attempting to kill each other?"


    Riven all but collapsed onto the stone platform, grateful for the brief reprieve from the grueling gravity training. His muscles ached, the residual strain still weighing heavily on his limbs, but at least now he had a moment to breathe.


    "I''ll assess each of you individually," Elder Thorne announced, his arms crossed as he surveyed them. "Show me how you absorb mana. I''ll observe your technique and provide guidance on how to refine it."


    Riven let out a quiet exhale of relief. Good. This would give him a few moments to do what he needed.


    Nyx, can you hear me? Are you still training in the mausoleum? he asked through their link.


    A notification window flickered into existence.


    [[ Yes. Is everything alright? ]]


    Remember how you said you had that hellish workout plan for me?


    [[ ¡­Yes. ]]


    We start tonight.


    Silence stretched for half a second before another notification appeared.


    [[ You won''t regret it. ]]


    Riven could practically feel the smug satisfaction radiating from her words.


    He exhaled slowly, a sense of impending doom settling in his gut. The more he thought about it, the more certain he became¡ªthis was a decision he was definitely going to regret.

 Chapter 25 - 25: Advice

    As the sun gradually dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the training grounds, Elder Thorne finally dismissed the class.


    True to his word, he had spent time with each of them, placing a firm hand on their backs, assessing the flow of mana as they absorbed it. His sharp gaze and precise corrections left no room for error, ensuring they refined their technique under his scrutiny.


    Riven had been careful¡ªintentionally lowering the efficiency of his mana absorption when it was his turn to be assessed by Elder Thorne. There was no way he was about to let the elder get a proper read on his true abilities.


    Just as Riven was about to leave, the elder''s voice cut through the quiet.


    "Riven. Stay behind."


    Suppressing the sigh that threatened to escape, Riven simply nodded, remaining where he stood as the rest of the class dispersed.


    Valis shot him a venomous glare on his way out, his expression a mixture of barely concealed rage and bruised pride. He rubbed his slightly swollen face, his scowl deepening before he finally turned and disappeared through the exit.


    Riven barely had time to enjoy the moment before Elder Thorne spoke again.


    "I know you received a necromancy skill book during the third trial." The words were calm, almost casual¡ªbut the weight behind them was anything but.


    Riven stiffened, his head snapping toward Thorne in surprise.


    "But," Thorne continued, his piercing golden gaze fixed on him, "I can''t sense even the slightest trace of dark mana in you."


    Riven silently thanked the system for concealing any traces of dark mana within him.


    Riven forced a nervous chuckle, scratching the back of his head as he feigned unease. "Oh, that skill book." He let out an exaggerated sigh. "Honestly? The whole necromancy thing freaks me out. I mean, raising the dead? Manipulating corpses?" He shuddered dramatically. "Not exactly something I ever planned on learning. If it weren''t for the third trial, I wouldn''t have even touched it."


    Silence stretched between them.


    Elder Thorne didn''t move, didn''t blink¡ªhis glowing eyes seemed to dissect Riven, as though searching for something beneath the surface.


    Riven held his ground, keeping his expression just the right mix of casual and uneasy.


    "Is that so?" Thorne finally murmured, his voice unreadable.


    Riven merely nodded, feigning ignorance.


    "You know¡­" Elder Thorne hesitated for a brief moment, as if weighing his words. "There was a meeting held among the academy''s higher-ups while you were unconscious¡ªwhen you were learning the skill book."


    Riven blinked, caught off guard by the unexpected admission. "Really? What was it about?"


    Thorne let out a measured sigh, his gaze drifting toward the horizon. "I assume you''re aware of the recent undead attacks plaguing the kingdom."


    Riven nodded slowly, curiosity piqued.


    "There''s a dark history to this world, one the kingdom has deliberately buried," Thorne continued, his voice heavy with something close to regret. "A history tied to necromancers."


    Riven stilled. "Necromancers?"


    "Mages who wield dark mana." Thorne''s expression darkened. "They were practitioners of the undead skills - mages who had no regard for human life. Their only goal was power, no matter the cost."


    His hands clenched briefly before he exhaled, composing himself. "Yes, power is everything in this world, but there are lines that should never be crossed. Lines that separate us from monsters."


    Riven remained silent, feigning shock as Elder Thorne turned his piercing gaze back to him.


    "I won''t delve into the full history now, but you need to understand this - what you learned during the third trial was necromancy."


    Riven widened his eyes, playing the part of the bewildered student. "Necromancy?"


    Thorne nodded. "No one has successfully learned a necromantic skill in over two hundred years. That alone has drawn attention to you - attention that may not always be in your favor. Fear is a powerful force, Riven, and there are those who still remember the horrors of the past."


    Riven schooled his features into a look of rising panic. "But I didn''t choose the skill! It was selected for me¡ªI never wanted to learn it!"


    "I know," Thorne said, his golden eyes scrutinizing every flicker of Riven''s expression. "And I believe you. But others may not be so understanding."


    Riven hesitated for a fraction of a second before nodding, his voice quieter. "What¡­ what should I do?"


    Thorne placed a firm hand on his shoulder. "If you wish to survive, you must do exactly what you''ve done here today. Tell them the truth - that it was not your choice. That you have no intention of ever using it."


    Riven inwardly scoffed but kept his face appropriately somber. "I promise I won''t."


    Thorne studied him for a moment longer, then nodded in satisfaction. "Good. Stick to that, and you may avoid the worst of it."


    He turned, guiding Riven toward the exit of the training grounds. "You may be summoned for questioning in the coming days. When that happens, remember what I''ve told you, and you''ll be fine."


    "Thank you, Elder Thorne." Riven bowed slightly before turning toward the academy.


    The moment he was out of sight, his expression darkened, his lips curling into a scowl.


    Nosy old man. He sighed internally. At least he told me the truth. That might be useful later.


    He flexed his sore knuckles, wincing slightly at the dried blood still crusted across them.


    His smirk returned as he recalled the sensation of his fist colliding with Valis''s face over and over again.


    All things considered, not a bad day.


    ¡ªx¡ª


    After grabbing a quick bite and washing up, Riven stepped into the small adjoining training room. Earlier, he had skimmed through his inventory and noticed two small mana potions still in his possession.


    Settling himself in the center of the room, he extended his hand, watching with fascination as the two potions materialized from thin air.


    He popped the lid off one and took a cautious sniff. A strong medicinal scent wafted up, making him grimace. Without dwelling on it, he uncapped the second vial and downed both potions in one swift motion.


    [[ Mana Potion Detected ]]


    [[ Beginning Extraction ]]


    [[ Please Brace Yourself ]]


    Riven barely had time to wonder why bracing was necessary before a sudden explosion of energy erupted in his stomach. A low hum filled the air as mana surged from his core, circulating forcefully through his body.


    Gritting his teeth, he focused on guiding the flow, ensuring it reached his mana heart. It felt like a raging torrent coursing through his veins, an overwhelming tide crashing through him. Slowly, the energy began to trickle into his mana heart¡ªone drop at a time.


    [[ Absorbing¡­ ]]


    [[ 1%¡­ ]]


    [[ 2%¡­ ]]


    [[ 3%¡­ ]]


    The surge of mana tore through Riven''s body, a force both exhilarating and overwhelming. He clenched his fists, his breathing steady but controlled as he guided the volatile energy toward his mana heart.


    Slow. Steady.


    His muscles tensed as the sheer density of the absorbed energy pressed against his internal reserves, threatening to spill over. He had never refined mana at this intensity before¡ªit was like trying to contain a raging storm within a fragile vessel.


    [[ 7%¡­ 8%¡­ 9%¡­ ]]


    A sharp jolt of heat shot through his chest, his body instinctively rejecting the excess energy. Beads of sweat formed at his temple as he willed himself to remain composed. This was a test of endurance as much as control.


    [[ 20%¡­ 21%¡­ 22%¡­ ]]


    The mana infusion continued, his body adjusting to the strain with each passing moment. The pain dulled slightly, replaced by a deeper awareness of the energy coursing through him.


    After several minutes, the system chimed again.


    [[ Absorption Complete. ]]


    [[ Mana Heart: Abyss Mana Heart (+1 Circle) progress towards second circle - 38% ]]


    Riven exhaled sharply, his pulse gradually steadying. He flexed his fingers, feeling the lingering effects of the mana rush - his body felt lighter, his magic more responsive.


    It wasn''t much, but it was progress.


    He closed his eyes for a moment, allowing himself a brief respite before standing.


    Now¡­ time to prepare for what comes next.


    ¡ªx¡ª


    The night stretched deep and quiet as Riven slipped out of the dormitory, his movements masked by the comforting embrace of shadows.


    Moving silently through the corridors, he reached the secluded exit leading toward the hidden mausoleum. He must''ve been hidden so deep into the shadows that he didn''t even attract the attention of academy guards this time.


    He moved soundlessly through the long corridor, his steps barely disturbing the stillness as he made his way back to the large circular chamber - the same one he had stood in just the night before.


    As expected, Nyx was waiting for him.


    The moment he stepped into the cavernous chamber, she grinned, her form appearing more solid as she studied him. "I didn''t think you''d be so eager," she mused.


    Riven cracked his knuckles. "Things are moving faster than I expected, I need my body to be strong - not just my mana."


    Nyx''s violet eyes gleamed in the dim light. "Then let''s begin." Sear?h the N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    She stepped forward, and for the first time since they had met, Riven felt something shift in the air.


    A deep, thrumming pulse resonated through the chamber - a call to something ancient.


    Shadows writhed around Nyx, thickening and solidifying until her form became something more than just a specter of darkness. For the first time, she exuded something raw, something truly menacing. The teasing, snarky Nyx was gone.


    She wasn''t playing anymore.


    And then - without warning - she moved.


    Riven barely had time to register the shift before she was upon him, her speed blurring the space between them. Instinct kicked in, and he twisted, narrowly evading her initial strike. But even as he dodged, a chill ran down his spine.


    Her presence alone was suffocating.


    This is different.


    Nyx wasn''t just testing him anymore.


    She was going to break him.


    And Riven welcomed the challenge.

 Chapter 26 - 26: Training Part 1

    Riven barely had time to think before Nyx''s next attack came.


    Her movements were fluid, effortless - like liquid darkness given form. The shadows around her pulsed and twisted in time with her strikes, enhancing her speed and her precision. Every attack came from a new angle, unpredictable and relentless.


    Riven gritted his teeth, dodging the first few swings on instinct alone, but she was faster than anything he''d ever faced before. His muscles strained against the unrelenting attacks, his body already sore from today''s training. His reactions slowed just slightly and that was all Nyx needed.


    A fist of pure shadow struck him square in the ribs.


    The impact sent him skidding back, his feet barely managing to keep him upright. Pain laced through his side, but he barely had time to register it before she was upon him again.


    "Your body really is weak," Nyx agreed with Rivens previous statement, her voice calm, assessing. "You''ve relied on magic all this time and haven''t strengthened your body. Power is only as strong as the vessel that contains it."


    Riven exhaled sharply, eyes flickering with frustration. He hated to admit it, but she was right.


    From the moment he entered this world, Riven had known his body was weak¡ªa consequence of years of torment and suffering. He had always intended to rebuild it, to make himself stronger, but his focus had been elsewhere. He had prioritized honing his mana, securing his place at the academy, and surviving the immediate dangers in front of him. Physical training had always been something he told himself he''d get to later.


    But later wasn''t good enough anymore.


    His physical endurance was lacking. The way she moved¡­ it wasn''t just speed, every movement was refined to perfection. Every strike, every feint, was calculated - meant to dismantle him bit by bit.


    But he wouldn''t break that easily.


    Nyx darted forward again, aiming a sharp kick towards his side. This time, Riven anticipated it. He twisted his body at the last moment, letting the shadows within his body fuel his muscles so that he shifted just enough that she only grazed his ribs instead of landing fully. Before she could recoil, he struck out with his forearm, catching her by the wrist and yanking her forward.


    She stumbled - only slightly, but it was enough.


    Riven didn''t hesitate. He countered immediately, bringing up his knee to strike her in the stomach.


    A grin flickered across Nyx''s face. Shadows exploded from her form, twisting around her midsection like armour. His knee met resistance, the impact softened by the shifting darkness.


    Huh¡­ so we can use the shadows like this too? S§×ar?h the N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Riven barely had time to ponder this new skill before Nyx retaliated.


    A palm strike to his sternum sent him flying backward, his breath stolen from his lungs.


    Riven hit the ground hard, coughing as pain rippled through his torso. He forced himself up quickly, dragging in deep breaths as he steadied himself.


    Riven wiped the blood from his mouth, lifting a hand to halt Nyx before she could launch another strike. His body ached, his muscles screaming in protest, but his mind was sharper than ever.


    The way Nyx moved - the way she fought - it was like watching the shadows themselves come alive. It wasn''t just raw speed or power - it was precision, control¡­ an instinct honed by countless battles.


    He needed it.


    ''System,'' he thought quickly, hope stirring in his chest. ''Is there anyway you can download Nyx''s fighting style? Do you have a function like that?''


    For a moment, silence.


    Then -


    [[ Scanning memory sequences of previous engagements with the subject: Abyss Born Nyx¡­ ]]


    Rivens vision flickered.


    It was like a film reel unspooling before his eyes, replaying their battle in perfect clarity. Every movement, every feint and every devastating counterattack. He could see it all - the way the shadows twisted around her form, the seamless way she combined speed with ruthless efficiency.


    But then the footage changed.


    [[ Searching the Archive for additional data¡­ ]]


    His breath hitched. Archive?


    Suddenly, images flooded his mind.


    It was Nyx - but not the one he knew.


    A warrior stood before him, her hair as dark as the void, her skin like pale moonlight. Her eyes¡­ they weren''t just obsidian pools like he was used to. They were deep, endless, like looking into the Abyss itself.


    She was breathtaking. Terrifying.


    And in these visions, she was far more than his teasing shadow companion.


    He saw her clad in bloodstained silver armour, her blade carving through human soldiers like they were made of parchment. She stood amidst the carnage, surrounded by the lifeless bodies of frenzied beasts - towering creatures that should have been formidable, yet to her, they were nothing more than nuisances, dispatched with effortless precision.


    Another vision - she was in an enormous armoury, sparring with others dressed in dark, familiar attire. They laughed, they exchanged blows, they moved like dancers wrapped in shadows.


    And then, a final image.


    Nyx, smiling - a grin that was both wild and wicked - as she executed a rapid three-strike movement, incapacitating a human warrior in the blink of an eye. Before the man could even scream, she had sunk her teeth into his neck, blood trickling down her chin as she tossed him aside like discarded prey.


    Riven shuddered as that final image seemed to engrave itself into his mind.


    So this was Nyx - the real Nyx.


    [[ Analysis complete ]]


    [[ Beginning combat download¡­ ]]


    A sudden, searing pulse of energy surged through Riven''s mind. His limbs jerked involuntarily, his muscles locking up as an overwhelming force coursed through his nerves, setting them ablaze with raw intensity.


    Then, the pain struck.


    A white-hot agony ripped through his skull, as if an unseen hand had split it open and was forcefully cramming foreign knowledge into the cracks. His vision blurred, his breath caught in his throat, and he barely stifled a ragged cry as the sensation tore through him like lightning splitting stone.


    "You cheating bastard!" Nyx huffed, her voice a mix of amusement and exasperation as she hurried toward him. "How is it a fair fight if you just steal my moves?" She crossed her arms, puffing out her cheeks in a pout before sighing and kneeling beside him, her fingers pressing soothing circles into his back.


    The instant her touch met his skin, his already overloaded nerves reacted violently.


    A pulse of raw shadow erupted from his body.


    The shockwave blasted outward, sending Nyx flying across the chamber. She twisted midair, landing gracefully on her feet, her obsidian eyes wide with surprise.


    Riven barely registered it.


    Another wave of agony wracked his body, and he clutched his head, his fingers tangling in his hair as his vision swam. He curled inward, his knees drawn close as flashes of movement filled his mind¡ªeach strike, each stance, each precise execution of Nyx''s fighting techniques replaying in vivid, relentless detail.


    They burned into him.


    Not just in his memory, but in his very being¡ªetched into his muscles, carved into his bones, woven into the essence of his existence. His body trembled, caught between agony and transformation, as the knowledge embedded itself deep within him.


    [[ Now reconstructing muscles to adapt with the complex movements ]]


    A new wave of agony tore through Rivens body, sharper and more consuming than before. His back arched violently as his muscles shredded themselves apart, fibre by fibre, breaking down under the sheer force of transformation.


    Then, his mana heart responded.


    Dark mana surged through his veins, latching onto the torn muscle tissue like a living entity, weaving itself into his very flesh. The pain was unbearable - bones strained, sinew stretched, his entire frame reshaping itself under the pressure.


    His once-frail body, skinny from a lifetime of torment, was reforging itself. New muscle formed, denser and stronger, moulding him into something more - something built for battle. His limbs lengthened, his physique becoming more defined and sculpted.


    His eyes rolled back, body convulsing as the transformation overtook him completely.


    And yet - he was laughing.


    A wild, guttural cackle tore from his throat, raw and unhinged. Blood trickled from his mouth as his body continued to contort against the pain. Every nerve screamed, every fibre of his being burned, but he embraced it. Welcomed it.


    Because pain meant growth.


    Pain meant power.


    "My god¡­" Nyx''s voice was barely above a whisper. She hovered nearby, her usual smirk absent, her expression torn between awe and disbelief.


    Riven only grinned wider, his laughter still ringing through the chamber as his body continued to break - and rebuild - into something stronger.


    If this was the price of strength, he would pay it again and again¡ªwithout hesitation.


    There was nothing he wouldn''t endure¡­ nothing he wouldn''t sacrifice.


    As the last remnants of pain faded and the tremors subsided, Riven finally opened his eyes. Though he couldn''t see it himself, the once-bright blue of his irises had darkened, the shadows seeping into them like ink bleeding through water.


    When his gaze met Nyx''s, he noticed the way she instinctively stiffened¡ªthe slight shudder in her posture, the flicker of something almost wary in her expression.


    It was subtle. But he felt it.


    He had changed.

 Chapter 27 - 27: Training Part 2

    Riven remained on the cold stone floor, his chest rising and falling in steady rhythm as his breath slowly evened out.


    [[ Reconstruction of the body is now complete. ]]


    A sigh of relief left his lips as he read the system''s notification, though the moment he attempted to push himself up, a sharp ache rippled through his limbs. He winced, forcing his muscles to comply as he slowly stood.


    Nyx, who had been hovering nearby, rushed forward to steady him. "Back to normal?" she asked, though her gaze lingered on him with something unreadable.


    Riven straightened fully and immediately noticed something was off.


    He was taller.


    His eyes flicked downward, and for the first time, he could clearly see the top of Nyx''s head without needing to angle his gaze. His limbs felt foreign, unfamiliar in their newfound strength, as if he had been reborn once more into a body that wasn''t entirely his own.


    "What in the¡­" His voice trailed off as he took a tentative step forward, his movements lighter, faster - effortless.


    Nyx stared up at him, her expression momentarily distant. When she finally spoke, her voice was quieter. "You look just like him¡­"


    Riven didn''t need to ask who she meant. He smirked. "Well, I am his descendant, aren''t I?"


    Nyx let out a soft chuckle, though the sadness in her eyes remained.


    Riven flexed his fingers, studying his newly defined muscles. He could feel it - the sheer power coiled beneath his skin, refined and honed. His entire body felt different. Stronger. Lighter. As if the weight of his former weakness had been stripped away.


    He didn''t hesitate.


    Spinning sharply on his heel, he drove his fist straight into the marble wall of the chamber.


    The impact detonated like an explosion, sending a shockwave rippling through the room. Nyx was nearly pushed back from the sheer force of it, her shadows whipping around her to absorb the residual blast.


    When the dust settled, Riven''s eyes widened at the gaping hole now carved into the wall. His fist, still wreathed in shadows, was completely unharmed.


    Slowly, he unclenched his fingers, feeling the lingering hum of power beneath his skin.


    Oh, yes.


    This was perfect.


    Riven rolled his shoulders, a confident grin stretching across his face as he met Nyx''s bewildered stare. "Alright, I think I''m ready for a rematch now."


    Nyx huffed, crossing her arms. "Hey! Wipe that smug look off your face - you literally just stole my moves!" She pouted before bouncing lightly on her feet, creating space between them once more.


    Riven didn''t waste a second.


    The moment she shifted into a defensive stance, he lunged. His body moved instinctively, seamlessly executing the techniques that had been burned into his muscles. Every motion felt natural - fluid - like he had been fighting this way his entire life.


    Shadows clashed as their strikes met midair. Fists blurred, kicks arced through the space between them, their movements so swift they left afterimages in the dim chamber light.


    Riven''s blood thrummed with exhilaration. The shadows around him pulsed with his every motion, reacting instinctively, enhancing each strike. He could feel it - his newfound strength, the raw efficiency of his attacks. His reinforced muscles drove each hit harder, faster, forcing Nyx back step by step.


    For the first time, she was on the defensive.


    And gods, did it feel good.


    Nyx''s eyes gleamed with exhilaration, a wide grin spreading across her face despite being pushed back. "Not bad," she admitted, pivoting on her heel to avoid a sharp jab aimed at her ribs. "Looks like you''re actually keeping up now."


    Riven didn''t reply - he was too focused. His movements were sharper than ever before, his instincts honed to react without hesitation. Each strike flowed into the next, no longer the sloppy, unrefined swings he had used before. He felt the difference in his body - stronger, faster, more precise.


    But Nyx wasn''t going down that easily.


    Just as he launched a sweeping kick aimed at her legs, her form vanished into the shadows. Riven barely had time to register what had happened before she reappeared behind him, her fingers pressing lightly against the back of his neck.


    "Dead," she whispered.


    Riven stiffened.


    Then, shadows exploded from his back like tendrils, spiraling toward her in retaliation. Nyx twisted away, flipping midair before landing in a crouch a few paces back.


    He turned to face her fully, exhaling through his nose. "That move was cheap."


    Nyx cackled. "That move was smart. You''ve got power now, Riven, but you still think too directly." She waggled a finger at him. "You fight too direct - too clean. You need to learn to fight dirty."


    Riven clenched his fists, rolling his shoulders. "Fine," he muttered, stepping forward. "Then teach me."


    Nyx''s grin widened. "Now we''re talking."


    The air between them crackled with anticipation.


    Nyx shifted her stance, her shadows swirling like a living entity around her. "Lesson one," she began, voice laced with amusement. "Forget everything you know about honorable combat. There''s no such thing in a real fight."


    Riven smirked, shaking out his hands. "Sounds good to me."


    "Then let''s see if you''re actually ready." Nyx moved - and this time, she didn''t just attack.


    She hunted.


    Riven barely had time to brace before she closed the distance between them in an instant. Unlike their previous exchanges, this wasn''t a clean duel - it was ruthless. Nyx came at him with sharp, unpredictable angles, striking at his joints, aiming for his ribs, his throat, his knees - every weak point she could exploit.


    Her speed was blinding, but Riven was faster now. He deflected a jab toward his throat, pivoted to dodge a brutal kick aimed at his ribs, and countered with a punch of his own.


    Nyx grinned as she dodged - only to feint, twisting mid-motion and driving her elbow toward his sternum.


    Riven barely caught it in time, his forearm absorbing the brunt of the impact. The force sent him sliding back a few paces, dust swirling around his feet.


    "You''re thinking too much," Nyx taunted. "You''re still reacting. You need to be anticipating."


    Riven growled low in his throat, the shadows within him stirring restlessly. "Then stop talking and make me."


    Nyx''s eyes gleamed. "Gladly."


    She surged forward, this time even faster.


    Riven moved to dodge - but that was his first mistake. Nyx''s foot hooked behind his ankle, yanking it out from under him. Before he could recover, she was already moving again, shadows whipping around her like a storm.


    His instincts screamed at him to counter.


    Instead, he let himself fall.


    The moment his back hit the floor, he twisted, using the momentum to sweep her legs out from under her.


    Nyx''s eyes widened slightly as she fell, but she recovered in an instant, landing in a roll and springing to her feet with unnatural agility. "Better," she admitted. "But you''re still too predictable."


    Riven scoffed. "You just hate that I''m catching up."


    "Oh, is that what you think?" Nyx lunged.


    This time, Riven didn''t dodge - he met her head-on.


    Their shadows collided midair, their blows a flurry of lightning-fast exchanges. Riven could feel his body adapting, his movements becoming smoother, sharper. He was no longer just keeping up - he was pushing back.


    And then, as he ducked under a sharp strike, he saw it.


    A tiny opening.


    Without thinking, he shifted his weight, drove his knee into her stomach, and swept her legs out in one fluid motion.


    Nyx gasped as she went down, her back slamming against the cold stone.


    Riven didn''t give her a chance to recover. He pressed his forearm against her throat, pinning her in place.


    They both froze.


    A beat of silence.


    Then, Nyx grinned.


    "Not bad," she murmured, her breath a little ragged. "You learn fast."


    Riven smirked down at her, his pulse thrumming with adrenaline. "I told you I was ready."


    Nyx''s laughter rang through the chamber, full of delight. "Alright, alright. I may have underestimated you." She gave him a pointed look. "But don''t get cocky. You still have a long way to go."


    Riven finally released her, stepping back and offering a hand.


    Nyx took it, pulling herself up with ease. She stretched, rolling out her shoulders. "Alright, lesson two. We''re going to work on¡ª"


    A shift in the air made them both stop.


    The shadows thickened.


    And for the first time since they''d begun training, Riven felt something watching them.


    Nyx stiffened, her playful demeanor vanishing. "Do you feel that?"


    Riven nodded, his entire body tensing. The mana in the chamber had changed - thicker, heavier. It wasn''t just the remnants of their fight.


    Something else was here.


    The shadows along the walls shuddered.


    "The academy?" Riven asked quietly, his voice barely above a murmur. His eyes flickered with sharp focus as he reached out with his senses, stretching his awareness toward the disturbance beyond the mausoleum door. Since his last conversation with Elder Thorne, he had been careful to keep track of any potential spies. The usual presence of mages trailing him had vanished, their scrutiny absent.


    But this¡­ this was something else.


    "No, not the academy." Nyx''s voice was low, her brows furrowed as she took a step toward the heavy stone door. The shadows there quivered, pulsing against the surface like something alive. They rippled from one side of the entrance to the other, restless and agitated.


    Curious, Nyx lifted a hand, allowing her own shadows to slither outward like seeking tendrils. They extended toward the ones at the door, hesitant but deliberate. The foreign shadows hesitated, twitching at the contact before, tentatively, they stretched back.


    Riven watched, both intrigued and wary, as the two sets of shadows reached for one another.


    Then, without warning, the ones from the door leapt forward, racing up Nyx''s arm in an instant. They coiled around her, spiraling along her limbs, weaving through her form before settling around her neck like an affectionate creature. They trembled and pulsed against her skin, nuzzling into her chin as though it had found something long lost.


    Nyx chuckled, running a hand along the sentient shadow as if petting an overzealous pet. "It seems our sparring match woke someone up from below."


    Riven frowned. "What?" His eyes narrowed as he studied the shadow''s odd behavior. "Someone¡­ from the Abyss?"


    As if sensing his attention, the shadow suddenly peeled itself away from Nyx. It hovered in the air for a moment, its form flickering and shifting like an unstable mirage. Then, before their eyes, it began to change.


    It stretched, darkened, and molded itself into the faint outline of a man - its features blurred, undefined, but unmistakably humanoid.


    Riven tensed.


    Then, it spoke.


    "¡­ My king¡­"


    The voice was fragile, distant - like an echo from a long-forgotten past. But the weight behind those two words slammed into Riven with unexpected force.


    The figure stiffened, as if realization had just struck it all at once.


    "¡­My king!"


    And then it moved.


    The shadow launched itself at Riven before he could react, wrapping around him in a desperate embrace. Its arms clung to him with a startling intensity, its head pressed against his chest as if it were clinging to something irreplaceable.


    A sound filled the chamber - low, mournful, layered with a thousand voices.


    A wail.


    A cry of something ancient and lost.


    The sound clawed at something deep within Riven, stirring an emotion he couldn''t name. A weight pressed against his soul - recognition? Sorrow? He didn''t know why, but something about this shadow made him feel something.


    He clenched his jaw, forcing himself to steady his breathing.


    Across from him, Nyx remained eerily still, her gaze distant, unreadable. But Riven caught the way her fingers curled subtly over her chest. The way her throat tightened.


    There was a sadness in her expression he had seen only a few times before.


    Clearing his throat, Riven flicked his gaze toward her in silent plea for assistance.


    Nyx snapped out of her trance instantly. "Ah! Right," she muttered hastily before stepping forward and prying the shadow away from him.


    The shade resisted, kicking its legs like a child throwing a tantrum, but Nyx had none of it. With practiced ease, she yanked it off Riven and pushed it down until it was kneeling.


    Riven exhaled, dragging a hand down his face. "¡­ Nyx, who the hell is this?" He shot a wary glance at the shadow, who now sat sulking in its forced position. "Is he like you?"


    Nyx sighed. "Yes," she said simply. "He''s one of ours - not a threat."


    Riven raised a brow. "Then why does it look like he''s about to cry?"


    Nyx smacked the shade on the back of the head. "Because he''s dramatic," she huffed. "But he''s strong."


    The shadow hunched its shoulders at her scolding, its form flickering with something almost petulant.


    Riven didn''t look convinced. sea??h th§× n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Nyx crossed her arms. "This is actually good news. It means the others will begin to awaken soon." Her eyes gleamed. "It''s happening faster than I thought."


    Riven stared at her, absorbing her words carefully. "Is that so?" He tilted his head, his tone dry. "Are they all as expressive as this one?"


    Nyx let out a short laugh, shaking her head. "No. This guy''s just¡­ special."


    Riven''s skeptical gaze flicked back to the sulking shadow.


    Right.


    Nyx straightened. "Let me investigate what''s happening in the Abyss. If they are beginning to sense your presence then I need to warn them to not just show up like this dumb guy." She smacked the shadows head again for emphasis.


    Riven gave a slow nod. "Go. Just be careful."


    Nyx grinned. "I should be the one saying that to you, my king."


    Before Riven could roll his eyes, Nyx and the shadow both dissolved into darkness, vanishing in an instant.


    The chamber fell silent.


    Riven sighed, raking a hand through his hair. He turned and exited the mausoleum, stepping out into the crisp night air. The cold breeze cooled the sweat on his skin as he inhaled deeply.


    So the others are waking up.


    That meant he wasn''t just dealing with one Nyx anymore.


    A headache was already forming behind his eyes.


    "¡­Great," he muttered under his breath. "I guess I won''t have any peace and quiet from now on."

 Chapter 28 - 28: Body Reforging

    Riven washed up quickly and reached for his academy uniform, only to frown when the shirt refused to button over his now broader chest.


    "Huh¡­ didn''t really think this through," he muttered, scratching the back of his head. It wasn''t until he returned to his room the night before that he realized his old clothes had been torn and stretched at the seams.


    "Shit." He sighed, reluctantly pulling on the tattered garments before heading to the small reception desk at the dormitory entrance. The sun had yet to fully rise, and while the halls weren''t crowded, a few first and second years loitered nearby - most of whom openly stared as he passed.


    "How can I help?" The academy staff member behind the desk asked, barely glancing up from her stack of papers.


    "It seems I''ve outgrown my uniform. I was hoping to get a larger set," Riven said evenly.


    The woman let out a tired sigh and finally looked up - and promptly froze.


    "Uh¡­" Her eyes flickered downward, lingering on his half-buttoned shirt and the firm lines of muscle beneath. A sharp gulp followed before she quickly turned away. "O-of course! Just give me a moment!"


    Her face flushed as she scrambled to the back room, returning a few moments later with a neatly bundled set of new clothes.


    Riven plastered on a bright, polite smile as he accepted them. "I appreciate it."


    "I, um¡­ included a second set. Just in case," she added, voice slightly breathless as she dared to meet his gaze.


    "That''s very kind of you," Riven said, offering a small bow before turning to leave. The moment he was out of sight, his expression flattened, and he scoffed under his breath. Looks like this new strength of mine is going to be useful in more ways than I expected.


    Back in his room, he changed into the fresh uniform, humming in satisfaction as the fabric fit snugly over his newly defined form. It felt good.


    He glanced toward the window, where streaks of purple and orange painted the early morning sky. With a sigh, he rolled his shoulders and stepped out once more.


    It was time for his next lesson with Elder Thorne.


    ¡ªx¡ª


    As Riven made his way to class, he felt the weight of countless gazes pressing against him. Whispers trailed in his wake, students murmuring behind cupped hands, their eyes flickering with shock, envy, and something close to suspicion.


    He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. Great. Just what I needed - more attention.


    ''System,'' he thought, keeping his expression neutral, ''is there any excuse I can give for my¡­ drastic change in appearance?''


    [[ Scanning Archive¡­ ]]


    [[ Please Wait¡­ ]]


    A pause. Then -


    [[ Results Found:


    Reforging of the Body


    Description: The Reforging of the Body is a phenomenon that occurs through enlightenment. When one achieves true synchronization with their own body, they can break past their limits and reshape themselves to better suit their skills. This process is rare but not unheard of, typically occurring in those who undergo extreme physical and mental trauma and/or training. ]]


    Riven''s lips curled into a slight smirk. Perfect.


    Elder Thorne stood with the other students when Riven arrived. The moment they saw him, all conversation ceased. Wide eyes, gaping mouths - Riven had expected stares, but the sheer shock on their faces was almost amusing.


    Valis and Lucenya looked particularly stunned, their gazes flickering over his newly transformed physique.


    "What¡­" Valis''s brows furrowed as he realized he now had to look slightly up to meet Riven''s gaze. "What the fuck happened to you?!"


    Riven ignored them entirely, walking up to Elder Thorne with a respectful bow. "Elder Thorne, last night - I was training alone when suddenly my body was consumed by pain." He kept his voice steady, lacing it with just the right amount of unease. "I had no idea what was happening."


    "You¡­" Elder Thorne trailed off, scanning him from head to toe, his golden eyes narrowing in contemplation. "You went through body reforging? At such a young age¡­"


    "Elder Thorne, what happened to him?" Valis cut in, his voice sharp with outrage. He gestured wildly at Riven, as if demanding an explanation. "How can someone change so much overnight?!"


    "Did you say body reforging?" Jerrik asked, rubbing his chin as he slowly circled Riven. It was the first time Riven had seen Jerrik show any genuine interest in something. So, he values physical strength¡­ interesting.


    "What does that mean?" Lucenya piped in, her usual playful smirk absent.


    Elder Thorne folded his arms, his expression unreadable. "When the body or mind is pushed beyond its limits, there are rare instances where a person achieves enlightenment. Body reforging is the result - the complete breakdown and reconstruction of muscles and bones, reforged to be stronger than before." His gaze grew distant, as if recalling something from his own past. "The process is¡­ pure agony. Pain beyond human comprehension. Many do not survive it."


    His golden eyes flickered with something unreadable before he added, "I underwent body reforging nearly a decade ago. It was one of the most painful experiences of my life."


    "That''s insane," Lucenya breathed, crossing her arms. "Your body literally destroys itself and then pieces itself back together? That sounds-"


    "Morbid?" Elder Thorne supplied, arching a brow.


    Lucenya nodded, looking vaguely disturbed.


    Valis scoffed, crossing his arms. "You said it only happens when someone is pushed beyond their limits," he sneered. "What kind of ''hardships'' could this pampered bastard have possibly faced?"


    Riven''s fingers twitched.


    He had planned to keep up his anxious, uncertain act, but something inside him snapped. A wave of mana surged from within him - a slow, smoldering pulse of wrath that rippled outward like an unseen shockwave.


    The effect was immediate.


    Lucenya, Jerrik, and even Valis instinctively took a step back, their bodies reacting before their minds could catch up. Valis''s sneer faltered for just a fraction of a second - just enough for Riven to see it.


    Elder Thorne, however, remained still. If anything, his golden eyes glowed brighter, a knowing smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "It seems you''ve been living a much harder life than you let on." He clapped a heavy hand onto Riven''s shoulder, his gaze steady, acknowledging. "We use the pain from our past to forge the foundations of our future. You''ve just taken your first step into true power." His voice softened just slightly. "Congratulations."


    A flicker of something - recognition? Sadness? -passed through Elder Thorne''s gaze before he turned and motioned for them to follow. "Come. We''ll continue in the training field."


    Riven hesitated for just a fraction of a second. He said he also went through body reforging. What had he gone through that pushed him past his limits? That forced him to break and rebuild himself?


    "Don''t think this proves anything," Valis muttered as he brushed past, his tone filled with venom. "If anything, you just look like a normal person now. Instead of a half-starved skeleton."


    Riven didn''t reply.


    But as he walked forward, a shadow curled along the ground - a tendril of darkness slithering toward Valis''s foot.


    Valis let out a startled curse as his ankle snagged on something unseen, sending him stumbling forward. He barely managed to catch himself before falling flat on his face.


    Riven smirked to himself as he kept walking, feeling just a bit lighter.


    ¡ªx¡ª


    They spent the entire day training in the gravity chamber once again - though, unfortunately, this time it didn''t end with Riven slamming his fists into Valis''s face.


    Despite the unrelenting pressure, Riven could feel the difference in his body. His movements were more controlled, his endurance stretched further, and while the gravity still weighed heavily upon him, it was nowhere near as unbearable as it was before.


    As they finally stepped out of the training grounds, Lucenya exhaled heavily, massaging her neck. She glanced at Riven for what had to be the tenth time that day, still eyeing him like he was an entirely different person.


    "I still can''t get over how different you look," she muttered, her tone caught somewhere between fascination and disbelief.


    "It''s still a shock for me too," Riven replied, his voice absent as they weaved through the busy academy halls.


    Lucenya hesitated for a moment before finally asking, "Was it¡­ really painful?"


    Riven''s steps faltered slightly. His mind flashed back to the excruciating agony, the sensation of his body breaking apart and reshaping itself, the sheer ecstasy of it. A grin stretched across his face before he could stop it.


    "Oh, it was horrendous," he murmured, almost too fondly.


    Lucenya froze, her eyes widening at the expression on his face. She opened her mouth - then snapped it shut when, just as quickly as it had appeared, Riven''s usual polite, practiced smile replaced it. It was as if she had imagined the entire thing.


    "Haha¡­ How can you say that with a smile like that?" Lucenya laughed, breaking the brief, unsettling silence. "If anyone heard you, they''d think you were a masochist."


    Riven merely scoffed, pressing forward.


    Then the crowd thickened. The steady hum of conversation turned into a quiet murmur. The students ahead of them weren''t merely walking - they were gathering.


    "What''s going on?" Lucenya frowned, stretching her neck to get a better look at the mass of students clogging up the main courtyard.


    "I''m not sure," Riven murmured. He started pushing through the bodies until they reached the edge of the crowd.


    Then someone grabbed his arm.


    Riven''s reaction was immediate.


    Shadows curled violently beneath his skin, a flicker of darkness lashing outward in warning as he ripped his arm free, eyes flashing with instinctual aggression.


    "Riven, it''s me!"


    Ember''s voice snapped him out of it.


    His younger sister stood before him, her ruby-red eyes wide with shock. Her gaze darted over him, taking in his changed form, her breath hitching slightly. But she quickly shook her head, as if dismissing it entirely. "There''s no time! You need to leave, now."


    She shoved at his chest, trying to push him back into the crowd.


    Riven barely budged.


    "Why should I?" he asked, crossing his arms.


    Lucenya glanced between them, puzzled. "What''s going on? Do you know why everyone''s gathered here?"


    Ember ignored her entirely. She grabbed Riven''s wrist again, her grip urgent. "Cole is looking for you - he''s here, Riven! If he sees you, he will-"


    A voice cut through the courtyard. sea??h th§× N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Ah¡­ so you finally decided to show your face."


    The crowd fell into immediate, tense silence.


    Riven turned his gaze to the side and met a pair of cold, amused crimson eyes.


    Cole stood at the center of the courtyard, a pleased smirk curving his lips. His dark blood-red hair was tied back neatly, his regal posture effortless. He was taller than Riven had remembered, though still shorter than him now.


    But that wasn''t the only thing that had changed.


    The moment Cole''s eyes landed on Riven, something flickered through them - something sharp, something almost like confusion. Then it was gone, replaced by arrogant satisfaction.


    He raised his hand, curling a finger toward Riven in a slow, beckoning gesture.


    "Didn''t I tell you?" Cole''s smirk widened. "You would be finished at the academy."


    His crimson eyes gleamed with amusement.


    "You''re dead."

 Chapter 29 - 29: A Fight Between Brothers Part 1

    A hush fell over the courtyard, only to be shattered a moment later by the eruption of excited whispers.


    "Is that the illegitimate son of the Drakar family?" someone gasped, eyes widening.


    "It is! I saw him at the trials, but - he wasn''t this tall back then! What the hell happened?" another student responded in disbelief.


    "Looks like Cole''s finally going to erase the family''s embarrassment," someone else snickered.


    Riven barely paid them any attention. His focus remained locked on Cole, on the bloodlust simmering just beneath his half-amused, half-contemptuous glare. A rush of anticipation coursed through Riven''s veins, his fingers twitching at his sides.


    Since his body reforging, he had been itching for a fight.


    "Cole, stop this!" Ember suddenly stepped in front of him, her stance rigid, her arms outstretched as if to shield him. "Father strictly forbade you from laying a hand on him!"


    Riven fought the urge to sigh.


    Cole''s smirk didn''t waver. "Father is temporarily confused," he said dismissively. "He thinks this bastard might be of use to the family. I''m simply doing him a favour - getting rid of future dead weight."


    "Tch." A voice beside Cole spoke up, drawing Riven''s attention to one of the three second-years standing at his side. He had cropped brown hair and sharp yellow eyes, feline-like in their scrutiny. "Can we hurry this up, Cole? I have an assignment due tomorrow, so if we could get to the part where you crush him, that''d be great."


    Cole''s eyebrow twitched, but, interestingly, he didn''t snap back. Instead, he simply nodded.


    Riven stretched his senses out slightly, reaching for the mana flowing around them - and felt it. That dense energy, practically radiating from the cat-like guy.


    So that''s it.


    Cole wasn''t sure he could take Riven on his own. He had brought backup.


    Pathetic.


    Cole took a step forward, voice practically dripping with condescension. "Why don''t we have a little chat somewhere quieter, little brother?" He dragged out the last two words, like they left a bitter taste in his mouth.


    "Cole-" Ember tried again, but Riven placed a firm hand on her shoulder.


    "It''s fine," he said lightly, his practiced smile slipping back into place. "Brother just wants to talk."


    Ember frowned deeply, clearly unconvinced.


    "Uh¡­" Lucenya leaned toward him, voice low. "I really don''t think he just wants to talk to you, Riven."


    Riven chuckled. "It''s fine."


    Before either of them could protest further, he strode forward.


    Cole''s smirk widened, his red eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "Follow us."


    Without another word, Cole turned and walked toward the forest behind the academy, his three henchmen moving in sync beside him.


    As Riven followed, the gathered crowd whispered and smirked, their excitement palpable.


    Riven didn''t hear them.


    All he could feel was the slow, building thrill curling in his gut.


    "You sure were acting confident back home, little brother," Cole sneered, his voice cutting through the dense forestry as they moved deeper into the woods. The noise of the academy had long since faded away, replaced by the rustling of leaves and the distant calls of unseen creatures. "Why so silent now?"


    Riven remained quiet, his steps steady as they entered a small clearing bathed in the warm glow of the setting sun.


    Cole''s patience snapped.


    "Hey, bastard! I''m talking to you!" He spun on his heel, storming over to Riven with heavy, deliberate steps. His red eyes burned with frustration as he jabbed a finger into Riven''s chest. "When I talk to you, you respond."


    Riven exhaled softly, lowering his gaze to where Cole''s finger pressed into his uniform.


    Then, with deliberate slowness, he lifted his head, meeting Cole''s glare with unreadable eyes.


    "Why," he murmured, his voice calm yet laced with venom, "should I waste my words on a piece of shit like you?"


    A thick silence fell over the clearing.


    Then - laughter.


    The three second-years flanking Cole erupted into amusement, their chuckles ringing through the air.


    Cole''s jaw clenched, his nostrils flaring. His hands curled into fists at his sides.


    Riven smirked, tilting his head in mock curiosity. "Well? Weren''t you going to finish me? I''m waiting."


    One of the second-years let out a wheezing laugh, wiping away imaginary tears. "Wow! Cole, you never told us he was this funny." His yellow eyes gleamed with amusement as he nudged the guy next to him. "You sure we''re supposed to kill him? I kind of like him."


    Cole''s face darkened, his fists trembling at his sides. "Shut up," he growled, his eyes locked onto Riven with barely contained rage.


    Riven only smiled wider.


    Cole raised a hand, a fiery-orange magic circle flaring to life in front of him. The heat from it pulsed against the cool evening air, casting flickering shadows across his face.


    "Let''s see if you''re still smiling after this," he sneered, his glare burning just as intensely as the fireball forming in his palm. S§×arch* The nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The fireball in Cole''s palm swelled. The clearing was cast in an ominous glow, the flickering light dancing against the darkened tree line.


    Riven remained where he stood, his expression unwavering, his arms now crossed lazily over his chest.


    Cole''s lips curled into a sneer. "Go on then," he taunted. "Dodge, little brother. Show us all how fast you can run."


    Riven tilted his head. "Run?" His smirk deepened, a slow, deliberate thing that sent a flicker of unease across Cole''s features. "You think I''m going to run from that?"


    Cole''s eyes narrowed.


    Then, with a sharp flick of his wrist, the fireball roared forward, its spiraling embers splitting the air with an ear-splitting hiss.


    Riven exhaled.


    And stepped forward.


    He didn''t dodge.


    Didn''t raise a barrier.


    Didn''t so much as flinch as the blazing sphere of death hurtled straight toward him.


    The second-years shifted in anticipation, expecting the moment of impact, expecting the explosion, the recoil, the burns, the screams.


    Instead-


    Darkness swallowed the fire whole.


    The flames flickered for only a fraction of a second before vanishing into nothingness, as if the very shadows around Riven had devoured them.


    Silence.


    The only sound was the rustling of leaves in the night breeze, the distant hoot of an owl.


    Then-


    "What?" Cole breathed, his voice tight, disbelief widening his eyes.


    Riven flexed his fingers, shadows curling and twisting lazily around his knuckles, still buzzing with residual heat.


    He smirked. "Was that it?"


    Cole stiffened.


    The second-years exchanged glances, their amusement dimming slightly. The yellow-eyed one let out a low whistle. "Huh. Well, that''s new."


    Cole snarled, his expression twisting in fury. "You arrogant little-" Another circle ignited in front of him, larger this time, the flames inside roaring even brighter. "Let''s see how you deal with this-"


    Riven moved.


    He was on Cole before the second spell could fully form, his body a blur in the dim light.


    Cole barely had time to widen his eyes before Riven''s fist slammed into his gut.


    The breath whooshed from his lungs in a sharp gasp, the fire in his hand sputtering out as he staggered backward. His feet skidded against the dirt, kicking up loose leaves as he hunched over, clutching his stomach.


    For a moment, no one spoke.


    Cole''s three companions watched with varying degrees of surprise and curiosity. The yellow-eyed one hummed under his breath, his gaze sharpening.


    Riven cracked his knuckles. "Come on, Cole." He tilted his head, his voice almost playful. "You were so confident a moment ago. Where''s all that fire now?"


    Cole''s head snapped up, rage burning in his glare. He straightened, his breathing still labored, but his hands were already igniting with another fire spell.


    Cole''s magic circle flared once more, but this time, his expression held no amusement - only fury. His pride had taken a hit, and Riven could see the exact moment he realized he wasn''t in control of the situation anymore.


    "You''re dead," Cole spat, his voice shaking with rage. He turned his head slightly, his gaze darting toward his companions. "What the hell are you all standing around for? Kill him!"


    The three second-years exchanged glances.


    The yellow-eyed one, still smirking, let out a low chuckle. "Ah, so we''re jumping straight to the murder part? No more ''big brother'' speeches?"


    Cole''s glare sharpened. "Shut up, Kai. Just do it."


    Kai exhaled through his nose, stretching his arms lazily. "Alright, alright. But if I kill him too quickly, don''t complain." He turned his golden gaze to Riven, tilting his head as if assessing him. "You''re interesting. That trick with the fire¡ªhaven''t seen that before."


    Riven sighed. "Do you all just love the sound of your own voices?" He beckoned Kai forward. "Just hurry the fuck up."


    Kai hummed, intrigued but unbothered. The other two, however, wasted no time. The one with long silver hair took a step forward, raising his hand, a sharp, gleaming magic circle forming beneath his feet.


    Wind magic.


    A sudden gust surged through the clearing, rustling the leaves, kicking up dust as a razor-sharp blade of wind shot toward Riven.


    Riven moved before the spell could land.


    Shadows coiled around his legs, boosting his speed as he twisted out of the way. The wind blade carved through the ground where he had just stood, slicing effortlessly through dirt and stone.


    Not bad.


    But not good enough.


    Riven landed in a crouch, his lips curling as he looked up at the silver-haired mage. "That was cute," he said casually. "You should try again."


    The mage''s eye twitched. "Cocky bastard."


    Cole, still hunched over but recovering, sneered. "Enough playing around! Kill him!"


    Kai sighed, finally stepping forward, rolling his shoulders as if shaking off boredom. "Alright, let''s see if you''re as tough as you act, Riven."


    Riven straightened, rolling his neck as the shadows around him pulsed. His fingers flexed, anticipation humming beneath his skin.


    ''System, alert me if anyone approaches.'' Riven commanded internally.


    [[ Command Received. ]]


    [[ Scanning nearby area¡­ ]]


    A brief pulse of mana flickered in his mind as the system began its sweep.


    Then¡ªKai moved.


    Fast.


    Riven barely caught the flicker of motion before Kai was upon him again, his speed blurring the space between them in an instant.


    Kai''s movement was seamless¡ªpractically liquid. One moment he was standing a few feet away, the next he was right in front of Riven, a sharp gust of wind accompanying his approach. His yellow eyes gleamed with anticipation as his fist shot forward, a blur of motion backed by an unnatural speed.


    Riven twisted at the last second, ducking just in time for Kai''s punch to sail past his face, grazing his cheek with the force of the wind it carried.


    Riven pivoted, his body reacting with the instinct that he learnt from Nyx, his shadows propelling him into a counterstrike. His fist shot toward Kai''s ribs, but the second-year read the attack instantly. He twisted midair, his body bending unnaturally to avoid the strike before delivering a sharp kick toward Riven''s side.


    Riven threw up his forearm to block, but the sheer force behind the kick sent him skidding backward, his feet digging into the dirt.


    Damn. He''s strong.


    Kai landed smoothly, barely winded. His smirk widened. "Oh? You''re keeping up. That''s rare."


    Riven cracked his neck, rolling his shoulders as his shadows pulsed around his arms, strengthening his stance. "I''d be disappointed if this was all you had."


    Kai''s smirk turned sharp. "Careful. I might take that as a challenge."


    The air around them shifted. A low hum filled the clearing as Kai exhaled sharply¡ªthen vanished again.


    Riven was ready this time.


    The moment Kai reappeared, Riven''s shadows surged forward, tendrils lashing out like whips. Kai twisted through them with feline grace, dodging each strike, his movements fluid and effortless. But Riven wasn''t just relying on direct attacks.


    The moment Kai evaded his last strike, Riven sent another tendril shooting toward the ground, coiling around his own leg.


    Then he pulled.


    The shadows yanked Riven forward with unnatural speed, closing the gap before Kai could react. His fist drove forward, a concentrated strike aimed straight for Kai''s abdomen.


    Kai barely managed to throw up his arms in time.


    The impact sent him flying.


    He crashed against the forest floor, rolling once before skidding to a stop, a small crater forming beneath him from the sheer force.


    For a brief moment, the clearing was silent.


    Then¡ªKai laughed.


    A slow, amused chuckle as he pulled himself up to his feet, brushing off the dirt on his uniform. "Oh, I like you," he mused, flexing his fingers as he rolled his shoulders. "I was going easy before. Guess I shouldn''t have."


    He exhaled sharply, and the entire clearing seemed to shift. The wind stirred violently, swirling around him like a storm ready to break loose.


    Riven braced himself, feeling the shift in mana.


    Kai wasn''t holding back anymore.

 Chapter 30 - 30: A Fight Between Brothers Part 2

    Behind them, Cole snarled. "Stop playing with him, Kai! Just kill the bastard already!"


    Kai didn''t even look back. "Shut up, Cole. You wanted a fight, didn''t you?" His golden eyes gleamed as he turned his full focus on Riven. "Now you''ve got one."


    Then - he vanished again.


    But this time, the air exploded around him. Wind magic surged outward in a violent burst, sending debris flying in every direction as Kai closed the distance in an instant.


    Riven''s eyes narrowed. He barely had time to react before Kai''s fist rocketed toward his face, the sheer force of the wind magic behind it distorting the very air. But something inside him snapped.


    The thrill of battle.


    The hunger for destruction.


    A wild grin stretched across Riven''s face, his body thrumming with something primal, something dark.


    His pupils dilated.


    His shadows surged.


    And for the first time - he didn''t hold back.


    The moment Kai''s punch reached him, Riven''s entire body flickered, twisting in a way that defied natural movement. He vanished, consumed by the abyssal darkness, only to reappear directly behind Kai.


    Before Kai could even register what had happened, Riven''s arm shot out.


    His fingers wrapped around the back of Kai''s skull.


    Then, without hesitation, Riven slammed his head straight into the ground.


    CRACK.


    Kai''s body buckled as the dirt beneath them split from the force. The air left his lungs in a strangled gasp, his vision whiting out for a fraction of a second as the impact sent tremors through his skull. Sear?h the nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    But Riven wasn''t done.


    He wrenched Kai''s head back up - only to slam it down again.


    And again.


    And again.


    Each impact sent dust flying, small craters forming beneath Kai''s head as the earth gave way beneath the sheer brutality.


    The second-years watching froze.


    Even Cole, who had been shouting in rage a moment ago, took a single step back.


    This¡­ this wasn''t normal.


    Riven was laughing.


    It wasn''t a cackle, nor was it controlled - it was raw, manic, and completely unhinged. His shoulders trembled with the force of it, the shadows around him pulsating in sync with his madness.


    Kai twitched beneath his grip, groaning in pain, but Riven wasn''t done. With inhuman strength, he threw Kai''s battered body into the nearest tree.


    BOOM.


    The tree snapped from the sheer impact, splinters and bark flying in every direction as Kai''s body hit the ground, unmoving.


    A sharp, eerie silence fell over the clearing.


    Then, Riven turned.


    His darkened gaze locked onto the silver-haired wind mage, who had been watching in stunned horror.


    The second-year barely had time to lift his hands before Riven was on him.


    A clawed hand wrapped around the mage''s throat, lifting him clean off the ground as if he weighed nothing.


    The mage choked, hands clawing at Riven''s arm, struggling against his grip.


    "W-wait! P-please-!"


    CRACK.


    Riven slammed him into the dirt, pinning him like an insect beneath his palm.


    The silver-haired mage let out a strangled scream as shadows pierced into his limbs, writhing like living things, drilling into his body with slow, deliberate agony.


    Cole staggered back.


    This wasn''t a fight anymore.


    This was slaughter.


    "Y-You monster-!" the last second-year stammered, his voice shaking. He turned to run.


    Wrong move.


    Riven flicked a hand.


    A shadow tendril shot forward, wrapping around the fleeing mage''s ankle, yanking him backward.


    The second-year let out a choked gasp as he was dragged across the dirt, pulled helplessly toward the predator who now stood over him.


    Riven knelt, gripping the back of the mage''s head, forcing him to look up.


    "Didn''t you all say you were going to kill me?" Riven murmured. "Then why are you running?"


    The second-year whimpered, eyes darting wildly, searching for an escape.


    Riven clicked his tongue in mock disappointment.


    Then he drove the mage''s face into the dirt.


    A muffled cry rang out, followed by a wet crunch.


    Blood splattered across the ground.


    Cole''s breathing turned ragged, his entire body trembling as he took another step back.


    Riven turned his head toward him.


    That look.


    Those pitch-dark eyes, void of mercy, void of reason.


    Cole felt something he had never felt before.


    Absolute Fear.


    Riven slowly straightened, his grin stretching impossibly wide, his muscles tensed like a beast preparing to pounce.


    "Your turn," he whispered.


    Cole ran.


    Or - he tried to.


    The moment he turned, shadows burst from the ground, wrapping around his legs, pulling him back.


    He screamed.


    "Oh no, no, no." Riven''s voice was laced with pure amusement. "We''re not done, big brother."


    Cole thrashed, panic overtaking his expression. "R-Riven! STOP! I-I was just-! I didn''t mean-!"


    His pleas fell on deaf ears.


    Riven lifted him effortlessly, holding him in the air by his throat.


    Cole gasped, his hands clawing at Riven''s grip, his eyes wide with terror.


    "P-please," Cole croaked, his face paling as the oxygen left his lungs. "I-I won''t-!"


    Riven squeezed.


    Cole let out a strangled gag, his limbs spasming.


    For a single, fleeting moment, Riven saw red.


    He could end him.


    Right here. Right now.


    With just a little more pressure.


    With just a little more force.


    His fingers twitched.


    His grip tightened.


    Then-


    Riven let out a slow sigh before swinging his fist down, his knuckles crashing into Cole''s already bruised face with a sickening crack. The force of the blow sent his older brother into unconsciousness instantly, his body collapsing in a heap at Riven''s feet.


    He exhaled sharply, rolling his shoulders, but the primal hunger in his chest still refused to subside. The deep, gnawing desire to end them all right here, right now, coiled like a serpent in his gut.


    Breathe.


    Control it.


    Riven let his head tilt back, his eyes closing as he forced air into his lungs, grounding himself.


    ''System, what''s their status?'' he asked internally, his voice flat in his own mind.


    [[ Three out of four are critically injured. Immediate medical attention is required for survival. ]]


    [[ The one at your feet is relatively unharmed, aside from mild bruising. ]]


    Riven clicked his tongue. That won''t do.


    Without hesitation, he lifted his boot and stomped down on Cole''s leg.


    CRACK.


    The grotesque sound echoed through the clearing, and a twisted sense of satisfaction curled in Riven''s chest as Cole''s unconscious form jerked involuntarily.


    "Much better," he murmured.


    Taking a deep breath, he stepped over the bodies of the second-years, his gaze flickering over their battered forms. He had been careless - letting his shadows run wild. If word got out about what he was truly capable of, it would only make things more difficult.


    ''System, can you alter their memories of tonight?'' he asked, his voice calm once more.


    [[ If their mental and magical resistance is low enough, memory alteration is possible. ]]


    Riven crouched next to the two weakest second-years first, pressing his palm to their bloodied foreheads. Their labored breathing was the only indication that they were still alive.


    "Let them remember that I beat them," he instructed the system. "But erase any recollection of my shadows. However¡­" A slow grin curled his lips. "Leave the fear. I want them afraid - enough that they won''t even think of speaking about this."


    [[ Initiating memory distortion¡­ ]]


    A faint, eerie glow spread from his fingertips, sinking into their skulls like tendrils of mist.


    By the time he pulled back, their faces had slackened, their expressions shifting into dazed confusion.


    He moved to Kai next.


    Unlike the others, Kai wasn''t unconscious. His half-lidded, golden eyes fluttered open slightly as Riven''s hand pressed against his head.


    Riven stared down at him, his smirk widening as he watched realization dawn in those sharp, feline-like eyes.


    Kai knew.


    He knew exactly what had happened.


    And he was terrified.


    But before he could speak, before he could even process the horror of what had unfolded, the system''s power surged, and his pupils dilated.


    The memory distortion took hold.


    Kai''s breathing slowed.


    His body sagged.


    When Riven moved away, Kai''s expression was distant - uncertain. The fear still lingered, but the precise reason for it was gone.


    Perfect.


    He finished the process with Cole last, ensuring his beloved older brother would remember only the pain, only the humiliation - without the knowledge of what truly lay beneath Riven''s mask.


    When it was done, Riven stood amidst the silence of the ruined clearing, closing his eyes for a brief moment.


    No witnesses. No loose ends.


    But there was one last issue.


    ''System, is there any way to inflict injuries on me?'' he asked. ''It''ll be too suspicious if I leave here without a scratch after taking down four second-years alone.''


    [[ Please specify desired injuries. ]]


    ''Bruises, minor cuts¡­ maybe a black eye,'' Riven mused. ''I need it to look like I won, but not like it was effortless.''


    [[ Understood. Commencing command. ]]


    Pain erupted across his body in sharp bursts.


    Riven let out a wet chuckle, the taste of iron flooding his mouth as blood trickled down his lip. His muscles throbbed, fresh bruises blossoming across his arms and torso. A dull ache settled into his cheekbone, signaling the formation of a deep bruise.


    Perfect.


    Then-


    [[ WARNING: Five unidentified individuals approaching. ]]


    Riven exhaled slowly.


    Right on cue.


    His legs buckled slightly, and he let himself collapse onto the dirt, his breathing ragged as he slumped against the nearest tree.


    He wiped the blood from his mouth, smearing it slightly for effect.


    Then, as the approaching footsteps neared, he forced his lips into a strained, exhausted smirk.


    Time to play the part again.

 Chapter 31 - 31: Dragon Egg

    "I can sense them up ahead!" Ember''s voice rang through the trees, urgent and strained.


    A moment later, five figures burst into the clearing. Riven barely had to lift his gaze to recognize them¡ªEmber, Lucenya, Elder Thorne, and two academy staff members.


    They froze at the sight before them.


    The scene was drenched in blood, bodies sprawled across the dirt like discarded dolls. The air was thick with the metallic tang of iron, mingling with the damp earth beneath.


    One of the staff members let out a sharp gasp. "My gods¡­" Their voice trembled as their wide eyes darted from the unconscious second-years to Riven''s bruised and bloodied form.


    Ember stumbled forward first, her breath catching as she took in the carnage around them. Her ruby-red eyes darted between the battered bodies of Cole and the other second-years before finally landing on Riven.


    "Riven-" she whispered, eyes wide with shock and something close to horror.


    Lucenya hesitated behind her, her usual sharp wit silenced by the sight before her. Even Elder Thorne, normally unreadable, stood frozen for a moment, his golden gaze sweeping over the scene with slow, calculated precision.


    Riven let out a low, ragged chuckle, shifting against the tree he had slumped against. "Took you all long enough."


    His voice was hoarse, laced with just the right amount of exhaustion. He let his head tilt slightly, his bruised face illuminated by the soft moonlight filtering through the trees.


    Ember rushed toward him, dropping to her knees beside him. "What happened?" she demanded, hands hovering over his injuries, unsure of where to touch.


    Riven exhaled sharply, as if debating whether or not to speak. Then, with a slow, hesitant sigh, he gave a weak shrug. "Cole¡­ and his friends. They wanted to ''talk.''" He let the word hang bitterly in the air. "Didn''t take long for them to start throwing punches."


    One of the academy staff - a middle-aged woman with silver-streaked hair - stepped closer, her expression grim as she surveyed the second-years'' injuries. "They''re in critical condition," she murmured to Elder Thorne. "This wasn''t just some sparring match. They were beaten within an inch of their lives."


    Lucenya inhaled sharply. "By¡­ by Riven?" Her voice was barely above a whisper, laced with disbelief.


    Riven let out another exhausted chuckle, letting his head tilt forward. His hair, damp with sweat and blood, clung to his forehead as he spoke. "They underestimated me."


    The words were simple, almost casual, but the weight behind them sent a shiver down Ember''s spine.


    Elder Thorne''s eyes lingered on Riven longer than necessary. There was something in his gaze - something unreadable, almost calculating. He took a slow step forward, kneeling beside Ember.


    "Riven," his voice was measured, almost too calm. "How did you manage to hold your own against four second-years?"


    Riven blinked at him, his bruised face unreadable for a moment before he gave a half-hearted smirk. "Guess I got lucky."


    Elder Thorne didn''t look convinced.


    His golden eyes flickered to Cole''s unconscious form, then to the deep cracks in the earth, the shattered tree where Kai had been thrown, the raw devastation that marred the clearing. This wasn''t the aftermath of someone getting ''lucky.''


    It was a battlefield.


    A massacre.


    Still, Elder Thorne said nothing. Instead, he slowly rose to his feet, his robes billowing slightly with the motion.


    "We need to get them to the infirmary," he finally said, his tone carrying an air of finality. He turned to the staff members. "Take the second-years first. Riven-" his gaze flickered back to him, unreadable. "You''ll come with me."


    Ember immediately tensed. "He needs medical attention too - !"


    "I know," Elder Thorne said smoothly. "But I''d like to hear his side of the story¡­ without an audience."


    Riven sighed, feigning reluctance. He pushed himself up from the tree, forcing a pained grimace as he did so. "Fine," he muttered. "Just don''t expect much. I already told you what happened."


    Elder Thorne merely nodded, then turned on his heel, leading the way back toward the academy.


    As Riven followed, he could feel Ember''s lingering stare on his back, filled with unspoken questions.


    He ignored them.


    Riven followed Elder Thorne in silence, his steps slow and measured, playing the part of someone barely holding himself together. His body ached - not from the fight, but from the injuries the system had carefully crafted for him. Every bruise, every drop of blood, was calculated to sell the illusion.


    But despite the pain, a sense of satisfaction curled within him.


    Cole had been humiliated. S§×arch* The N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The second-years, who had laughed so easily at his expense, now lay broken in the dirt.


    And none of them would ever remember what really happened.


    Still, Elder Thorne was a problem. His sharp, golden gaze lingered on Riven too long, as if peeling away the layers of the story he had fed them. He hadn''t asked many questions yet, but Riven knew they were coming.


    He needed to stay ahead of him.


    They entered the academy, the cold stone corridors eerily silent at this late hour. The torches along the walls flickered, casting long shadows as they walked.


    Finally, Elder Thorne led him into an empty chamber - a small, dimly lit room filled with books and ancient tomes. It wasn''t the infirmary.


    It was his personal study.


    The moment the door shut behind them, Elder Thorne turned to face him.


    "Sit," he instructed, his voice calm but firm.


    Riven hesitated for only a moment before obeying, sinking into the chair across from him. He leaned back slightly, letting exhaustion settle into his features, but kept his guard up.


    Elder Thorne studied him for a long moment, then sighed, crossing his arms. "You want to tell me what really happened?"


    Riven exhaled through his nose. "I already did."


    The elder arched a brow. "You expect me to believe you defeated four second-years with nothing but sheer luck?"


    Riven''s lips twitched into something resembling a smirk. "I never said it was all luck."


    Elder Thorne leaned forward, his golden eyes burning with intensity. "I warned you not to draw attention to yourself," he said, his voice tight with frustration. "You''re already under scrutiny, Riven - now, after this, even more eyes will be on you." He let out a weary sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose.


    Riven scoffed. "So what? You expected me to just stand there and let them beat me to a pulp?"


    "No," Elder Thorne shot back, his gaze sharp. "But I also didn''t expect you to leave them half dead."


    Riven exhaled slowly, tilting his head back, eyes drifting to the ceiling. The memories of the fight surged in his mind - the moment the shadows took over, the raw exhilaration, the sheer, unfiltered rage.


    "I lost control."


    Elder Thorne''s expression shifted slightly. "What?"


    Riven let a hollow chuckle slip past his lips, shaking his head. "You know what it''s like for me, don''t you?" He let just enough exhaustion and vulnerability seep into his voice. "Growing up as an illegitimate son of a Count isn''t exactly easy."


    Elder Thorne said nothing, but Riven caught the flicker in his expression - hesitation, understanding.


    Taking that as a cue, Riven continued, weaving his words carefully. "When I didn''t show any signs of forming a mana heart, the Duke locked me away - shut me in my chambers and abandoned me like I was nothing." He let the words linger, pausing just long enough to let them settle before continuing. "And my stepmother¡­ she saw me as a stain on her perfect noble family. She made sure I never forgot it. Every day, she reminded me what a disgrace I was."


    He lifted his gaze then, watching as the emotion warred on Elder Thorne''s face - fury, pity, a barely restrained sense of injustice.


    Perfect.


    "I didn''t awaken my mana heart until a few months ago," Riven went on, his voice quieter now. "And for the first time in my life, I thought I had a chance - thought I could finally live for myself. But then Cole shows up, bringing all that torment back with him. And when I saw him standing there, ready to hurt me yet again¡­" He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. "I lost it. Years of anger, years of pain - I let it take over."


    He shrugged, forcing a bitter smile. "So yeah, I beat the shit out of them."


    A heavy silence settled between them.


    Riven didn''t blink.


    Didn''t waver.


    Elder Thorne''s jaw tightened, his fingers curling into a fist against his desk. The rage in his eyes wasn''t directed at Riven anymore. No, it was aimed elsewhere - at the Duke, at the stepmother, at a system that allowed things like this to happen.


    Good.


    Riven knew he had him.


    What Elder Thorne didn''t know - what no one would ever know - was the truth.


    He didn''t lose control.


    Not really.


    He enjoyed every second of it.


    And if he could do it all over again, he wouldn''t stop at just beating them. He''d have made sure they never got up again.


    Perhaps next time, he''d test his necromancy on them instead.


    ¡ªx¡ª


    Elder Thorne didn''t keep him much longer after hearing Riven''s story. With a heavy sigh, he dismissed him, sending him to the infirmary to be checked over. The staff provided a small healing potion and recommended he rest, but Riven had no intention of lingering in the suffocating walls of the academy any longer than necessary.


    As he made his way toward the mausoleum, he felt the ever-present gaze of two mages watching him from the canopy above the forest. The same ones as before. Seems that after the fight, they were assigned to watch him again.


    Without breaking stride, he left behind the illusion of himself meditating in the clearing before slipping seamlessly into the shadows, his presence vanishing entirely.


    The mausoleum chamber was silent when he arrived.


    "Nyx?" he called out, his voice echoing faintly against the stone walls.


    No response.


    He exhaled through his nose, running a hand through his hair before lowering himself onto the cold floor. The weight of the day pressed against his skull, memories flashing through his mind like a storm. His body was exhausted, but his thoughts wouldn''t settle.


    Then, suddenly, a sharp pulse surged through his head.


    A deep, rhythmic throbbing, different from before.


    His eyes snapped open.


    [[ WARNING ]]


    [[ Dragon Egg is Reacting ]]


    Riven''s breath hitched. His hands moved before he could think, pulling the egg from his inventory and cradling it in his palms.


    The moment it left his storage, heat pulsed against his skin. The egg trembled slightly, a soft vibration running through it.


    "System, what''s happening?" Riven asked, his voice steady despite the flicker of anticipation curling in his gut.


    [[ Scanning¡­ ]]


    A pause.


    [[ The Egg has reacted to your recent bloodlust. ]]


    Riven blinked before chuckling under his breath, running a thumb over the egg''s smooth shell. "So you like violence, little one?"


    The egg pulsed in response.


    [[ The Egg is attempting to absorb a large amount of your dark mana. ]]


    A new window flashed before his eyes.


    [[ Do you wish to proceed? ]]


    [[ Yes/No ]]


    Riven hesitated, narrowing his eyes slightly. "How much?" he asked warily.


    [[ Estimating¡­ ]]


    [[ The Egg requires approximately 75% of your total mana stores. ]]


    [[ Mana recovery estimate: Three days. ]]


    Riven clenched his jaw, considering. He had barely felt a flicker from the egg since he first took it, never expecting it to hatch anytime soon. But now, it was awake, responding, demanding.


    If there was a way to speed up its hatching¡­ then it was in his best interest to oblige.


    His lips quirked upward. "Fine," he muttered, selecting ''Yes'' on the window.


    Settling himself into a meditative position, he placed the egg gently onto his lap, hands steadying its weight.


    "Eat up, little one," Riven murmured, closing his eyes.


    [[ Commencing mana exchange¡­ ]]


    The moment the mana exchange began, Riven felt a sharp, almost electric pull deep within his mana heart. His dark mana surged outward, drawn into the egg like a river pulled by an unseen force. It wasn''t gentle - it was hungry.


    The egg pulsed against his palms, its heat intensifying as it greedily drank from him, siphoning his power in steady, ravenous waves. Shadows writhed around it, coiling like living things, drawn to the energy being transferred.


    Riven clenched his jaw, his breathing slowing as he steadied himself. He had expected a drain, but not like this. It wasn''t just a loss of mana - it felt like something deeper, something fundamental was being funneled into the egg.


    His vision blurred slightly as the pull intensified.


    [[ Mana reserves at 60%¡­ ]]


    [[ Mana reserves at 45%¡­ ]]


    Riven exhaled through his nose, forcing his muscles to remain relaxed despite the creeping weakness seeping into his limbs.


    The egg trembled violently now, cracks beginning to spiderweb along its obsidian surface, glowing faintly from within.


    His heartbeat slowed.


    The chamber around him seemed to dim, the only light coming from the pulsating glow inside the egg.


    [[ Mana reserves at 25%¡­ ]]


    [[ Caution: Mana depletion will result in temporary exhaustion. ]]


    Riven''s arms trembled, but he refused to falter.


    "Take what you need," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.


    The egg shuddered.


    Then, with a final pulse of heat, the pull stopped.


    Riven gasped, his breath hitching as his body sagged slightly, drained but still conscious. His head pounded, the world tilting for a brief moment before stabilizing.


    And then-


    [[ Mana Exchange Complete ]]


    Riven''s gaze dropped to the egg resting in his hands, his brow furrowing. It hadn''t hatched, but something had changed. Veins, thick and pulsing with a dark blue glow, sprawled across its shell like living roots, thrumming with a quiet, eerie energy.


    He exhaled through his nose, a faint chuckle escaping his lips. "Guess it wouldn''t be that easy for you to hatch after all."


    With careful movements, he tucked the egg back into his inventory, its warmth lingering against his palms even after it vanished.


    The exhaustion hit him all at once. His body, already drained, felt heavier than ever.


    "Damn¡­ I need sleep," he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. As soon as his head touched the cold stone floor, consciousness slipped from his grasp.


    What Riven didn''t see - what he couldn''t possibly know - was the faint silhouette of a dragon unfurling across his back, its wings stretching outward towards his shoulders. A silent mark. A claim.


    A notification flickered into the air, unnoticed.


    [[ Bonding Process Initiated ]]


    [[ Obsidian Dragon Egg (Rank: ???) Bond Link: 1/10 ]]

 Chapter 32 - 32: A Difference in Power

    "Riven¡­" A soft, anxious voice drifted through the haze of exhaustion clouding his mind. "Hey, wake up - this isn''t exactly a great place to take a nap."


    "I shall fetch my liege the finest bed at once!" A male voice, full of frantic devotion, declared.


    Smack.


    "Shut up, you idiot!" The woman''s voice snapped, followed by a pained grunt.


    Riven''s eyes fluttered open, the dim glow of sconces lining the walls slowly coming into focus. Nyx and another shadowed figure loomed over him, their expressions etched with concern.


    He sat up immediately.


    Careless.


    He knew the mana exchange with the dragon egg would drain him, but leaving himself vulnerable like this? Unacceptable. At least he had the system to alert him if real danger approached.


    "Shit," Riven muttered, running a hand through his hair as the heavy ache of mana depletion settled deep in his bones.


    "What the hell happened?" Nyx asked, offering him a hand as he pulled himself upright.


    With a weary sigh, Riven quickly recounted his fight with Cole and the second-years, then the mana exchange with the dragon egg.


    "I leave you alone for one day, and this is what happens?" Nyx groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. Then, suddenly, she dropped to her knees, bowing so deeply her forehead nearly touched the stone floor. "Forgive me, my king. I was careless. I left my post and allowed you to be placed in danger."


    The male shadow beside her flinched at her movement, then, as if realizing his mistake, scrambled to follow suit. With dramatic flair, he slammed his forehead to the ground so hard Riven swore he heard an echo.


    "To abandon my king in his time of need! I am unworthy of forgiveness!"


    Riven blinked at the sheer display of dramatics. "Uh¡­ it''s fine. I was victorious, so it''s not like it mattered."


    "But to miss such a glorious display of my liege''s strength-!" The male shadow''s voice trembled with grief. "I shall never forgive myself!"


    Riven raised an eyebrow. "¡­Who are you again?"


    "My liege!" The shadow man wailed, shuffling forward on his knees before grabbing Riven''s hand with his own ethereal one. "I am Krux! One of the Five Generals of Velmorian''s army - his most devoted, his strongest, his-"


    "Strongest?" Nyx interjected, her voice deceptively sweet, her eyebrow twitching dangerously. "Shall we put that claim to the test, Krux?"


    Riven cocked his head at Krux, recognition dawning. "Wait¡­ is this the sobbing shadow from last night?"


    "Yes," Nyx deadpanned. "He''s that simpering idiot."


    "My liege!" Krux gasped, looking thoroughly wounded.


    "But," Nyx begrudgingly admitted, "he is strong. One of the fiercest generals. A war-obsessed lunatic, which is why he was drawn to our training last night."


    Riven looked down at Krux again, skepticism clear in his expression. This guy? A ''fierce general''?


    Krux, as if sensing the doubt, straightened. "My devotion is absolute! I shall prove myself to you, my king!"


    "Right." Riven sighed, rubbing his temple. "Well, if you want to be useful, you both need human forms. I can''t have walking shadows following me around if we''re trying to keep a low profile."


    "Understood, my king." Nyx stood and grabbed Krux by the ear, dragging him away.


    "Just you wait!" Krux declared, planting himself in a meditative position. "Give me a few days, and you''ll see my brilliance!"


    Riven chuckled under his breath, watching as both Nyx and Krux began to absorb mana.


    With a sigh, he sat cross-legged, deciding to join them. Even if he could restore just a fraction of what he''d lost, it would help shake off this exhaustion.


    He closed his eyes.


    The Mausoleum was quiet once more.


    ¡ªx¡ª


    Riven arrived at the training field just as the first light of dawn painted the sky in soft hues of gold and blue. The usual morning chatter quieted the moment his classmates caught sight of him.


    Their gazes lingered - on the bruises, the cuts, and especially the deep black eye darkening the skin around his right eye.


    But, surprisingly, no one spoke.


    Valis, usually the first to throw out a taunt, seemed oddly subdued. If anything, he almost looked¡­ nervous. Jerrik, on the other hand, observed him with something that resembled approval, while Lucenya shifted awkwardly, stealing uncertain glances in his direction.


    Elder Thorne strode forward, arms crossed over his chest, his golden gaze sweeping over the assembled students. "Good, you''re all here." His lips quirked slightly. "We''re focusing on combat training today because tomorrow, I''ve secured access to one of the Mana Beast Islands."


    Valis stiffened. "Mana Beast Islands?" His surprise was evident. "Are we¡­ ready for that?"


    Elder Thorne''s eyes gleamed with quiet amusement. "Well, you won''t know until you step foot on it, will you?"


    The class shifted uneasily.


    Riven, however, barely reacted.


    Elder Thorne turned to him. "Riven, focus on mana absorption today. Give your body a chance to recover."


    Riven gave a curt nod. He had no interest in wasting his time on combat drills against first-years when he had already beaten four second-years the night before.


    Without another word, he moved to sit away from the others, retrieving a small health potion from his inventory - the one he had forgotten to take yesterday.


    Tilting his head back, he downed it in a single gulp.


    [[ Small Health Potion Ingested ]]


    The moment the potion settled in his stomach, a cool wave of relief spread through Riven''s body. The lingering aches dulled slightly, though the exhaustion from his mana depletion remained a stubborn weight pressing down on him.


    He exhaled, closing his eyes briefly.


    A Mana Beast Island, huh?


    That was unexpected. He had read about them - floating islands brimming with mana-infused creatures, each one evolving into formidable beings by absorbing the ambient energy of their surroundings. The academy utilized these islands not only for combat training but also as a source of rare ingredients for potions and alchemy.


    He wasn''t about to let this opportunity slip.


    As he sat in quiet meditation, absorbing what little mana he could, the rest of the class began their combat drills under Elder Thorne''s watchful eye. Grunts and sharp breaths filled the training grounds as pairs of students sparred, their magic clashing in bursts of elemental force.


    Riven only half-listened - until Valis let out a frustrated snarl.


    "That''s the third time, Lucenya!" Valis snapped, rubbing his shoulder where he had been knocked back. "Stop holding back!"


    Lucenya sighed, rolling her shoulders. "I''m not holding back, you''re just predictable."


    A flicker of amusement crossed Riven''s face.


    Valis scowled, glancing toward him briefly before turning away. Riven could tell the other boy wanted to say something - to throw out some snide remark - but was too shaken to do so.


    Interesting.


    It seemed his little performance last night had left an impression - rumours spread fast in this place.


    Elder Thorne clapped his hands together. "That''s enough. Pair up and rotate partners - I want you adapting to different fighting styles."


    As the class shifted, Lucenya hesitated before making her way toward Riven.


    He raised an eyebrow. "You sure you want to spar with someone recovering?"


    Lucenya crossed her arms. "You don''t actually look like you need to recover."


    Riven chuckled. "I take it that means you want to fight me?"


    She shrugged, but there was an unmistakable gleam of curiosity in her violet eyes. "I saw what you did to Cole and the others. I just¡­ I want to see for myself."


    Riven tapped his fingers against his knee thoughtfully before rising to his feet. His body still felt heavy from the mana drain, but that didn''t mean he was weak.


    "Fine," he said, rolling his shoulders. "But don''t cry if I embarrass you in front of everyone."


    Lucenya smirked. "I should be saying that to you."


    They stepped onto one of the sparring platforms, the others pausing their own fights to watch.


    Elder Thorne''s gaze lingered on them before nodding. "Begin."


    Lucenya moved first.


    She was fast - not as fast as Kai had been, but her movements were sharp, controlled. A flick of her wrist conjured razor-sharp shards of ice, each one glinting dangerously in the morning light as they shot toward him in rapid succession.


    Riven''s body reacted instinctively.


    He pivoted on his heel, shifting his weight just enough to slip between the projectiles. His footwork carried him smoothly across the platform, each movement precise, measured - dodging, not by speed alone, but by sheer efficiency.


    Lucenya''s eyes narrowed slightly.


    Then, without hesitation, she pressed forward.


    She slammed a palm against the floor, and a wave of frost erupted outward, spiraling across the platform in a jagged, unpredictable pattern.


    Riven exhaled. Smart.


    She wasn''t trying to trap him outright - she was forcing him to react.


    Instead of retreating, he lifted his hand.


    A fireball flickered to life, crackling with searing heat as it hovered just above his palm. Then - with a sharp flick of his fingers - it shot forward, not in a straight line, but curving unpredictably, tracking Lucenya''s every move.


    Her eyes widened.


    She leapt back, twisting her body to avoid the incoming projectile, but the fireball adjusted, veering toward her like a predator locking onto its prey.


    Lucenya gritted her teeth, thrusting her arm forward. A wall of ice erupted between her and the fireball, thick and reinforced.


    The fireball didn''t crash into it.


    Instead, it curved around the barrier.


    It followed her.


    Lucenya barely had time to react before it closed in.


    At the last second, she threw herself to the ground, rolling just as the fireball whizzed past her head, skimming close enough to singe the tips of her hair before slamming harmlessly into the training field''s barrier.


    She pushed herself up, panting. "What the hell was that?!"


    "A fireball with tracking abilities," Riven said lazily, summoning another one to hover above his fingertips. "I don''t really like wasting magic on fights like these, but you seemed confident in dodging."


    Lucenya let out a slow breath, glaring at him, but there was a flicker of admiration in her frustration.


    Riven smirked.


    Then, before she could react, he moved.


    He closed the distance in an instant, cutting through the frost-covered ground like a blade. No shadows. No tricks. Just speed and precision.


    Lucenya tried to shift her stance, but it was too late.


    Riven swept her legs out from under her in one clean motion, sending her crashing onto her back.


    Then, as she blinked up at him in shock, he lifted his hand again.


    A small, flickering fireball hovered just inches from her face.


    "Dead," he murmured.


    Silence.


    The class watched with wide eyes - even Elder Thorne looked¡­ intrigued.


    Lucenya lay there for a moment before groaning. She propped herself up on her elbows, staring at him. "¡­You''re ridiculous."


    Riven smirked. "I''ve been called worse."


    She exhaled, shaking her head as she stood. "You didn''t even attack properly."


    "I didn''t need to."


    Lucenya scowled but didn''t argue.


    Elder Thorne clapped his hands. "That''s enough. I think we''ve all learned something here." His sharp gaze flickered toward Riven. "You''ll be joining the practical portion tomorrow, after all."


    Riven raised an eyebrow. "Didn''t you tell me to sit out today?"


    "I did." Elder Thorne''s lips twitched in amusement. "But clearly, you don''t need the rest."


    Riven chuckled. Fair enough.


    "Switch partners again!" Elder Thorne commanded, his voice carrying across the field. "Observe your opponent''s movements - analyze their reactions! Learn from each other!"


    As the training session continued, Riven found himself observing more than participating. His fight with Lucenya had been instructive - not just for her, but for himself. He had learned how much he could push his body even in a depleted state, how much mana he could afford to use, and, more importantly, where his limits currently stood.


    Lucenya, despite her irritation at losing, had taken the defeat with grace. Valis, on the other hand, had been unusually quiet, stealing occasional glances in Riven''s direction but saying nothing. Jerrik, always a man of few words, simply nodded in approval.


    Elder Thorne rotated the sparring partners once more, but Riven remained still. He had nothing to gain from fighting Valis or Jerrik. If anything, he wanted a true test.


    A real challenge.


    His gaze shifted to Elder Thorne.


    The man stood at the center of the training field, his golden eyes sweeping over them with quiet authority. His presence alone commanded attention. Unlike the other instructors at the academy, Thorne never spoke more than necessary - he let his lessons speak for themselves.


    Riven stepped forward.


    "Elder Thorne," he called out.


    The instructor turned to him, expression unreadable. "Yes?"


    "I''d like to spar with you."


    The words were met with immediate silence.


    Lucenya, who had barely caught her breath, nearly choked. Valis froze mid-motion and Jerrik raised an eyebrow, intrigued.


    Elder Thorne arched an eyebrow. "Oh?"


    Riven nodded, keeping his tone even. "I want to test myself against someone at your level."


    There was no arrogance in his voice, no false bravado - just a simple statement of intent.


    Elder Thorne regarded him for a long moment before exhaling softly. "You''re still recovering from last night, and you want to fight me?"


    Riven met his gaze steadily. "Yes."


    The instructor chuckled, though there was no real humor in it. "You''re ambitious. I''ll give you that." His gaze flickered briefly over Riven''s stance before he nodded. "Very well."


    He stepped forward, the air around him shifting slightly.


    "Begin."


    Riven moved first, not because he thought he could overwhelm Elder Thorne, but because he knew waiting would only put him at a disadvantage.


    A fireball flickered to life in his palm, twisting unnaturally as it arced through the air, curving toward Elder Thorne like a homing missile.


    Elder Thorne vanished.


    Riven barely had time to react before he felt a presence behind him. He turned sharply, bringing up his arm just in time to block a strike aimed at his side.


    But the moment he made contact-


    Elder Thorne was gone again.


    Teleportation.


    Riven''s body tensed as he scanned the field, stretching his senses. He didn''t rely on sight alone. He listened, he felt. The shift in air, the faintest flicker of mana-


    There.


    He twisted his body just as Elder Thorne reappeared, dodging the incoming blow by the smallest margin. A sharp gust of wind brushed past his cheek as he barely avoided what would have been a devastating strike.


    Elder Thorne''s golden eyes gleamed with approval. "Good."


    Riven didn''t respond. He was already moving.


    Another fireball ignited, this one smaller but faster, darting toward Elder Thorne the moment he flickered into view.


    Again, he vanished before it could reach him.


    Riven clenched his fists. He needed a different approach.


    Speed wasn''t the issue. Reflexes weren''t the issue.


    The issue was that Elder Thorne was dictating the flow of the fight.


    And Riven needed to change that.


    He took a slow breath, adjusting his stance.


    Instead of attacking, he waited.


    Elder Thorne''s teleportation was flawless, but even flawless techniques had patterns.


    He closed his eyes briefly, focusing. He let himself feel the space around him, the way mana shifted every time Thorne disappeared and reappeared.


    Then-


    There.


    The moment Riven sensed the flicker of mana behind him, he moved.


    He spun, his fist already flying toward the spot where Elder Thorne would appear-


    But his fist met nothing but air.


    Elder Thorne was a step ahead.


    Riven barely had time to register his mistake before a sharp impact slammed into his ribs, sending him skidding across the training field.


    He hit the ground hard but rolled back to his feet almost instantly.


    His breathing was steady, but his body ached from the force of the strike.


    Elder Thorne studied him with quiet amusement. "Not bad," he mused. "You almost had me."


    Almost.


    Riven exhaled slowly.


    This was the true gap between them. A difference not just in experience, but in sheer power.


    ''System, can you analyze Elder Thorne''s mana level?'' Riven asked internally.


    [[ Scanning¡­ ]]


    [[ Mana detected: Just past the boundary of the Fifth Circle ]]


    Riven''s eyebrow twitched slightly, though he forced his expression to remain neutral.


    Fifth Circle.


    Riven had barely passed the First.


    The gap between them was staggering. The sheer scale of power that separated them was beyond anything he had faced before. If Elder Thorne wanted to end this fight now, he could do it effortlessly.


    And yet, Riven wasn''t backing down.


    Riven steadied his breathing, shaking off the lingering ache from Elder Thorne''s strike. The difference in their strength was undeniable, but he hadn''t expected to win - only to learn. And he was learning.


    Elder Thorne wasn''t just faster - he was reading Riven''s movements before they happened, predicting his attacks and reacting with sharp precision. That kind of mastery wasn''t something Riven could close the gap on in a single fight.


    But that didn''t mean he wouldn''t try.


    God he wished he was able to use his shadows - how he wished he could unleash everything on this man in front of him and see how he reacted.


    "You''re still standing," Elder Thorne noted, tilting his head slightly. "That''s good."


    Riven exhaled, repositioning his stance. "I''d rather not be on the ground."


    The instructor chuckled. "A solid mindset. But tell me, what do you think you''re missing right now?"


    Riven''s mind raced through the brief exchange. His speed wasn''t enough. His tracking fireballs weren''t fast enough. And even when he tried predicting Elder Thorne''s movement, he''d still been a step behind.


    Control.


    Elder Thorne had complete control over the fight. The pace, the positioning, the openings - he dictated all of it. Riven was reacting, but he wasn''t taking initiative in a way that mattered.


    "I don''t have control," Riven admitted.


    Elder Thorne nodded approvingly. "Good. You understand the problem. Now, what are you going to do about it?"


    Riven didn''t respond. Instead, he adjusted his breathing and shifted his weight slightly, centering himself.


    Don''t just react. Make him react.


    A flicker of fire bloomed in his palm, but this time, he didn''t throw it immediately. He let it hover, the heat warping the air around it. The flames flickered unpredictably, pulsing in uneven rhythms.


    Elder Thorne''s golden eyes narrowed slightly.


    Then Riven moved.


    Not toward Elder Thorne directly, but diagonally, closing the distance without making himself an obvious target. At the same time, he launched his fireball - not at Thorne, but at an angle slightly off-center.


    As expected, the instructor teleported.


    Riven didn''t wait to see where he appeared.


    The moment he felt the subtle shift in mana, he twisted sharply, already firing a second fireball toward the space Elder Thorne was reappearing in.


    For the first time, Elder Thorne was forced to teleport twice in succession.


    Riven didn''t stop there.


    He kept moving, adjusting his position with each step, his fireballs curving unpredictably through the air, forcing Elder Thorne to react instead of dictate.


    The others watched in stunned silence.


    Jerrik crossed his arms, watching the rapid exchange intently. Valis looked irritated, as if he couldn''t decide whether to be impressed or resentful. Lucenya had her lips parted slightly, caught between awe and disbelief.


    Elder Thorne''s expression remained unreadable.


    He moved through the attacks fluidly, dodging each one with minimal effort, but his teleportations had become more frequent.


    That meant something.


    Riven felt the shift before he saw it.


    Elder Thorne''s mana signature flared - just slightly - but enough for Riven to recognize the opening.


    He pivoted, hand snapping up as another fireball ignited, its trajectory shifting midair to cut off Elder Thorne''s next escape.


    For a fraction of a second, the instructor was boxed in.


    It was the smallest hesitation.


    But Elder Thorne was still a Fifth Circle mage.


    And that meant Riven was still too slow.


    Riven barely had time to react before a force slammed into his chest - a strike so fast he hadn''t even seen it coming.


    The next thing he knew, he was flat on his back, staring up at the sky.


    Pain radiated through his ribs, his lungs struggling to suck in air.


    Elder Thorne stood over him, arms crossed, his expression unreadable.


    Riven groaned. "That¡­ was worse than last time."


    Elder Thorne exhaled, shaking his head with mild amusement. "You improved," he admitted. "You adjusted, learned, adapted."


    Riven coughed, pushing himself onto his elbows. "And still lost."


    "That''s expected." The instructor extended a hand. "But now you understand something you didn''t before."


    Riven took his hand, letting Elder Thorne pull him to his feet. His entire body ached, but there was a strange satisfaction in it.


    He had forced Elder Thorne to move.


    Even if only for a moment.


    "That''s enough for today," Elder Thorne announced, turning to the rest of the class. "Take what you''ve seen and learned, and apply it tomorrow. The Mana Beast Island won''t be as forgiving."


    Jerrik gave Riven a small nod of approval. Sear?h the Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Lucenya smirked. "Not bad."


    Valis said nothing, but Riven caught the slight tension in his jaw.


    Riven was grateful for the fight - not just for what he had learned, but for the reminder of how much further he still had to go. His victory against the second-years had been a step forward, but today had made one thing clear - he was still far from where he needed to be. There was so much more power to gain, and he couldn''t afford to forget that, even for a moment.


    For a brief moment, Riven''s mask slipped, a malicious smirk curving his lips. One day, even Elder Thorne would fall before him - just as the second-years had the night before. It was only a matter of time.

 Chapter 33 - 33: His First Soldier

    Riven barely made it back to his room before collapsing onto his bed. His body ached, and his mana reserves were still far from full, but at least a few hours of sleep would help him recover before tomorrow''s mission.


    Or so he thought.


    The moment he shut his eyes, a dull throbbing flared in his chest. At first, it was just an irritation, something he could ignore. But within seconds, it built - an overwhelming, pulsing force that sent waves of discomfort coursing through his body.


    "Argh!" Riven hissed, forcing himself upright. His breath came sharp and uneven as he clutched at his chest. "Can I not get one moment of fucking peace?!"


    As he stood, a wave of dark energy surged through him. His shadows, usually obedient and still, trembled around him, twisting and writhing like living things. But it wasn''t fear. It was anticipation. Excitement.


    A presence stirred in the corner of his room.


    "My King¡­"


    Nyx''s voice echoed softly as she emerged from the darkness.


    But something was different.


    As she stepped into the dim glow of the setting sun filtering through his window, Riven''s breath hitched.


    She wasn''t made of shadows anymore.


    She was human.


    Or at least, she looked it.


    Her form was identical to the visions he had seen when copying her fighting techniques - slender yet strong, her pale skin almost glowing in the fading light. Long obsidian hair cascaded down her back, framing a delicate, heart-shaped face. And her eyes - pure black, endless and unreadable - held a weight of devotion unlike anything he had seen before.


    "I have fulfilled your command, my king." Nyx''s voice was quieter now, reverent. She stepped closer, the soft clink of her armor filling the stillness of the room.


    Then, without hesitation, she knelt before him, lowering her head, her dark hair spilling around her like ink.


    Riven''s chest pulsed again.


    He gritted his teeth, gripping the fabric of his shirt where the sensation burned beneath his ribs. The pressure was unlike anything he had felt before - not pain, not quite, but something just as overwhelming.


    Nyx''s voice remained steady. "That is the Awakening Bond¡­ I began it when we first met - when you reached your first circle," she murmured, her gaze still lowered. "Should you accept it, I will become your sword. Your shield. My life will be yours."


    A notification flashed across his vision.


    [[ Attempting Bond Mark with Abyss-Born Nyx ]]


    [[ Do you accept this bond? ]]


    Riven hesitated.


    ''What does the bond entail?'' he asked internally.


    [[ Accepting the bond will bind Abyss-Born Nyx to you as your soldier. You will have the ability to command her absolutely - and the power to unmake her should you choose. Additionally, your mana reserves will increase. ]]


    Riven''s eyebrows lifted slightly. That was¡­ useful. More than useful.


    The ability to control her completely and gain more mana? There was no reason to refuse.


    "I accept you, Abyss-Born Nyx," he declared, the words heavy and powerful.


    Nyx''s entire body shuddered.


    "Thank you, my king." Her voice trembled, but it wasn''t fear. It was something deeper - something close to relief.


    Riven''s hand moved on its own.


    Without thinking, he reached out, fingers grazing the crown of her head. The moment they touched, a rush of energy surged between them. He could feel her mana - deep, endless, a vast abyss mirroring his own.


    His instincts guided him.


    Somewhere deep inside her, he found her mana heart. It pulsed beneath his touch, wild yet waiting.


    And then - he branded it.


    A complex magic circle seared itself into existence, interwoven with lines so intricate they made his head ache just to comprehend them.


    [[ Finalizing bond. ]]


    Flashes of memories - visions, emotions not his own - poured into him.


    For a moment, he wasn''t just himself.


    He was Nyx.


    He saw through her eyes, felt what she felt, heard what she heard.


    Their connection wasn''t just a command.


    It was something deeper.


    Something absolute.


    When the flood of sensation finally ebbed, Riven exhaled shakily. His grip loosened, his hand slipping from her hair as his mind adjusted to the new bond between them.


    Nyx remained where she was, kneeling, her breathing uneven.


    She wasn''t just a shadow anymore.


    She was his first soldier - the first of many that would lead him to the precipice of power.


    [[ Skill Acquired: Abyss Monarch ]]


    [[ Skill Description: As the rightful King of the Shadow Kingdom, it is your destiny to reclaim what was lost. Gather your soldiers, rally your followers, and rebuild the once-great dominion that fell to ruin. ]]


    [[ Skills unlocked -


    Power in Numbers: With each new soldier and follower gained, your mana will grow. Current capacity 1/10 (Can be upgraded.)


    Mana: +10%


    Undead Army:


    Enhances existing skill (Puppeteer of the Undead). Can now command up to 5 undead minions and they can be hidden in your shadow. (Can be upgraded.) ]]


    Riven''s eyes flickered over the skill description, absorbing every detail. His surprise was brief, quickly replaced by a deep, calculating interest. The Undead Army ability caught his attention the most.


    He had hesitated to use Puppeteer of the Undead before - too many risks, too many eyes watching. But now? Now he could keep his undead soldiers hidden within his own shadow, concealed until the perfect moment.


    A slow smirk tugged at his lips.


    Riven clenched his fist, feeling the pulse of his increased mana reserves. He hadn''t expected such a significant gain from forming a bond with Nyx, but the implications were clear. If every soldier he recruited strengthened him like this¡­ then power was only a matter of time.


    Nyx remained kneeling before him, her head bowed in unwavering loyalty. The shift from shadow to flesh had not changed her devotion - if anything, it seemed stronger now. The weight of their connection pressed against his mind, not intrusive, but present.


    She was waiting for his command.


    "Stand," Riven said, testing the depth of their bond with a single word.


    Nyx obeyed immediately, rising in one fluid motion. Even standing still, she radiated a quiet intensity, her abyssal eyes locked onto him as if awaiting his next order.


    "How does it feel?" he asked, tilting his head slightly.


    Nyx hesitated for the first time since appearing. "Different," she admitted. "The form I had before was only an echo of what I once was. Now¡­" Her hand flexed at her side. "Now, I can fight at my full strength once more."


    Riven''s fingers twitched at the thought. He had only seen glimpses of what Nyx was capable of when training with her shadow form. If this was her true power, then she was more than just a soldier - she was a weapon.


    One that belonged to him.


    "We''ll test that later," Riven said, rolling his shoulders. "For now, I need to rest."


    Nyx nodded. "Shall I stand guard, my king?"


    Riven considered it for a moment before nodding. Another layer of security beyond the system would only benefit him.


    "What about Krux?" he asked, shifting to lie back down on the bed.


    Nyx remained by the window, her stance unwavering. "If he continues absorbing mana at the current rate, he should be able to form his human shell in a few days."


    That was faster than Riven expected. He supposed it made sense. Krux had been starving for mana - merely a whisp of a shadow - and now that he had access to the mausoleum''s reserves, he was consuming it like a man dying of thirst.


    He also had a strong sense of devotion to Riven which fuelled his motivation to form a human shell.


    "And the others?" Riven turned his head slightly, his gaze settling on Nyx. "Did you find them?"


    "We searched the Abyss," she confirmed. "Krux and I located two of the other generals. Their forms are¡­ fragile. They have been asleep for too long." Her gaze drifted out the window, her expression unreadable. "But the moment they learned of your return, they began rebuilding their strength. They will rise soon."


    Riven absorbed that information silently. Two more generals - soon to awaken.


    "And the others?" he pressed.


    "They are too deep," Nyx admitted. "We could not reach them. The Abyss is vast, and those who slumber in its depths have been untouched for centuries. Pulling them back will take time."


    Then, finally, she turned back to face him, her dark eyes gleaming with certainty.


    "But they will come."


    A slow breath escaped Riven''s lips. "Good," he murmured, letting his eyes close. "It seems things are starting to get real."


    A faint smile played at Nyx''s lips. "It seems so, my king."


    ¡ªx¡ª


    Riven woke the next morning feeling more refreshed than he had since arriving in this world. The lingering exhaustion from his mana depletion had faded, and as he stretched his limbs, he felt light on his feet once more. The increase in mana from his bond with Nyx had helped significantly - just in time for today''s visit to the mana beast island.


    He dressed quickly, lacing his boots while glancing at Nyx, who stood silently by the window.


    "I unlocked a skill that allows me to hide undead minions in my shadow," Riven said, raising an eyebrow. "Are you able to do the same?"


    Nyx stilled for a moment before her form dissolved into the floor. A thin, sinuous shadow skittered across the ground before settling seamlessly into Riven''s own.


    Riven smirked. "Perfect. Much less conspicuous than an armored warrior following me around."


    With that, he rose and left his room, heading toward the courtyard where the rest of his class and Elder Thorne were already waiting.


    Lucenya spotted him first, waving excitedly, her green eyes gleaming with anticipation. Valis stood nearby, his expression eager, while Jerrik, as usual, looked uninterested, his arms crossed over his chest.


    Elder Thorne''s golden gaze swept over them before he spoke.


    "Now that we''re all here, I''ll explain the rules for today." His voice carried easily across the courtyard. "The island we''re heading to is primarily jungle terrain. You will have twelve hours to scout the area and hunt as many mana beasts as possible. Collect their mana cores and return them to me when time is up." He let the words settle for a moment before continuing. "The one who brings back the most cores will earn a full day of training on a mana-dense island of their choosing."


    Riven stilled.


    A mana-dense island.


    His thoughts immediately went to the legendary fire staff sitting dormant in his inventory. If he could secure a day on a fire dense mana island, he could finally restore it. Sear?h the n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Elder Thorne continued, his tone firm. "So far, I''ve gone easy on all of you. I needed time to assess your skills, mana capacity, and combat abilities. After today''s results, our training will change. I will push you to your limits, and then I will break those limits."


    A faint, pleased hum stirred in Riven''s chest at those words. He welcomed the challenge.


    Elder Thorne smirked. "Now, let''s go."


    He turned and raised his hands, an intricate magic circle beginning to form. The air shimmered as the spell activated, a large teleportation gate forming in front of them.


    Without hesitation, the group stepped forward, expressions set with determination.


    Even Riven felt a pulse of anticipation as he walked through the gate.


    A day to fight, kill, and gain exactly what I need?


    What a perfect opportunity.

 Chapter 34 - 34: Mana Beast Island Part 1

    The first thing Riven noticed as he stepped through the teleportation gate was the heat. Thick, stifling, and oppressive, it clung to him like a second skin. Within seconds, his shirt stuck uncomfortably to his back, a sheen of sweat already forming across his arms and neck.


    He squinted against the harsh sunlight, his vision momentarily overwhelmed by the brightness. Slowly, his eyes adjusted, allowing him to take in the new environment.


    As Riven''s vision cleared, the vast jungle stretched before him - dense, untamed, and humming with mana. Towering trees with twisted roots loomed overhead, their thick canopies casting dappled shadows across the uneven forest floor. The air buzzed with the sound of unseen creatures, rustling leaves, and the occasional distant roar that sent smaller beasts skittering deeper into the undergrowth.


    He didn''t waste time.


    Closing his eyes for a brief moment, Riven stretched out his senses, feeling for the strongest mana signatures around him. The island pulsed with raw, untapped energy, but one source stood out - deep, immense, and powerful. Farther than the others.


    That''s where he needed to go.


    Without waiting for the rest of his group, Riven turned sharply and headed straight for it.


    "Hey - Riven!" Lucenya''s voice rang out behind him, surprised.


    Riven moved swiftly through the thick jungle, pushing past tangled vines and massive leaves. The mana in the air was suffocating - thick, pressing against his skin like an unseen force. Each breath carried the raw energy of the island, an almost tangible presence surrounding him.


    System, locate the mana beasts.


    [[ Locating mana beasts¡­ ]]


    His vision flickered. The vibrant jungle dimmed slightly, replaced by a crimson overlay. Shapes emerged¡ªred silhouettes dotting the landscape, pulsing with the essence of living creatures. Some small, skittering across the ground, while others lurked in the shadows of the trees.


    Above him, something massive shifted.


    Riven''s gaze snapped upward just as a wasp-like creature the size of a cat glided through the humid air.


    For a moment, he froze.


    The sheer wrongness of it was unsettling - its grotesquely elongated body, the unnatural shimmer of mana radiating from its wings, the way its many black eyes reflected the light. It hovered with an eerie grace, its stinger long enough to skewer a man in a single thrust.


    A fireball flared to life in Riven''s palm.


    Whatever this thing was, it wouldn''t be alive much longer.


    Riven didn''t hesitate. He flicked his wrist, and the fireball shot forward with a sharp hiss, curving midair as it locked onto the massive wasp''s shifting form.


    The creature reacted instantly, its wings buzzing in a furious blur as it veered sideways. But the fireball adjusted just as fast, twisting in the air like a homing predator.


    The wasp screeched - a sharp, chittering noise - before the flames engulfed its body. A burst of heat and the acrid scent of burning chitin filled the air as it plummeted to the jungle floor, twitching violently before finally going still.


    [[ Mana Beast Defeated ]]


    [[ Common Mana Core Acquired ]]


    Riven barely glanced at the notification before stepping over the corpse. The wasp was nothing but a minor obstacle - far from the real prey he was after.


    The deep mana source he sensed earlier still pulsed in the distance, powerful and unmoving. He pressed on, quickening his pace as he weaved through the dense underbrush, his heightened senses on high alert.


    More red outlines appeared in his vision.


    A cluster of smaller mana beasts scurried in the shadows - snake-like creatures coiling around tree branches, reptilian beasts slinking through the foliage. Some watched him warily, but none dared to attack. They could sense it. The difference in power.


    Smart.


    Then, a sudden rustle from above.


    Riven barely had time to react before something lunged at him from the treetops.


    His instincts flared. He ducked, pivoting sharply as a massive clawed limb slashed through the space where his head had been just a second ago.


    The creature landed with a dull thud, the ground trembling under its weight.


    Riven took a step back, eyes narrowing as he took in the beast before him.


    A predator.


    It resembled a panther, but larger - easily twice the size of a normal one. Its sleek, black fur shimmered faintly, lined with glowing streaks of violet mana. Long, curved claws dug into the dirt, and its yellow eyes gleamed with an unnatural intelligence.


    The panther-like beast let out a low, rumbling growl.


    Unlike the wasp, this one was strong.


    Stronger than the second-years he had fought before.


    Good.


    He was hoping for something like this.


    Riven exhaled slowly, shifting his stance as another fireball ignited in his palm. The beast tensed, muscles coiling beneath its sleek hide, ready to strike.


    Then-


    It moved.


    Faster than anything Riven had fought before.


    In the blink of an eye, it vanished from sight, blurring into the dense foliage.


    Riven barely had a second to react before his instincts screamed at him - behind!


    He twisted just in time, narrowly dodging a set of razor-sharp claws that carved through the space beside him. The wind from the strike brushed against his skin, sharp enough to sting.


    The beast didn''t pause. It spun, already lunging again, its fangs bared.


    Riven dropped low, sweeping a leg out to knock it off balance. But the creature was too agile, leaping back before his strike could connect.


    It''s fast.


    Sensing that no one was near, Riven summoned his shadows and they instantly flared around him.


    The moment his shadows surged, the air around Riven shifted.


    Dark tendrils coiled around his arms and legs, reinforcing his movements, sharpening his senses. He didn''t have the raw speed the beast did, but he didn''t need it. His shadows would close the gap.


    The panther-like mana beast circled him, its yellow eyes flickering with wariness. It had sensed the change.


    Good.


    Riven moved first.


    He lunged forward, shadows propelling him faster than before. The beast reacted immediately, twisting its body mid-air to avoid his attack. But Riven wasn''t aiming to strike - he was testing.


    Learning.


    Another fireball flared to life in his palm, but this time, he didn''t throw it.


    Instead, he let it hover.


    Then another two flaming orbs appeared.


    Three fireballs circled Riven, their intense heat warping the air around him. A bead of sweat trickled down his brow as he channeled mana, the strain creeping into his mind with each flickering orb. Maintaining them simultaneously demanded focus, but he held steady - his gaze locked onto the panther-like beast before him.


    The beast hesitated for only a fraction of a second before vanishing again.


    This time, Riven was ready.


    The moment it blurred into motion, one of his shadows lashed outward, intercepting it mid-dash. The tendril barely grazed the beast''s flank, but it was enough.


    A flicker of surprise crossed its glowing eyes.


    Got you.


    Riven''s fireballs snapped forward in an instant.


    The first exploded in front of the beast, forcing it to twist away from its original trajectory. The second curved around, boxing it in from behind.


    And the third-


    Riven directed it downward.


    The moment it struck the jungle floor, the explosion sent dirt and debris flying, knocking the beast off balance. S§×ar?h the ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Riven capitalized.


    His shadows surged, wrapping around the creature''s legs before it could recover. They coiled tight, locking it in place.


    The beast let out a furious snarl, struggling against the binding.


    Riven''s body thrummed with dark mana, the energy coiling around his arms like living tendrils. He channeled his shadows, molding them into elongated, talon-like claws that gleamed with an eerie sheen. With a swift, precise strike, he brought them down onto the beast''s neck, slicing through its tough flesh with ease.


    The beasts head toppled to the floor and Riven drew back in his mana. He sighed as he flicked the beasts blood from his arms.


    [[ Mana Beast Defeated ]]


    [[ Rare Mana Core Acquired ]]


    "Nyx, come here," Riven commanded, wiping his bloodied hands against his shirt with little care.


    In an instant, shadows swirled at his feet, twisting into a vortex before solidifying into the familiar form of Nyx.


    She glanced at the fallen beast, a flicker of amusement in her dark eyes. "That was quite the fight," she mused.


    "I need you to move unnoticed and gather as many common mana cores as possible," Riven instructed, his tone firm. "I''ll be focusing on the stronger beasts."


    Elder Thorne had made it clear that the one with the most cores would win, but Riven wasn''t just here for the competition. This was a rare chance to test himself against creatures far above his current level - an opportunity he refused to waste.


    "As you command, my king." Nyx bowed swiftly before vanishing into the jungle, her form dissolving into the shifting shadows.


    Riven exhaled, pulling the Rare Mana Core from his inventory and turning it over in his palm. It was larger than he expected - smooth, crystalline, and pulsing faintly with mana. Light refracted off its edges, casting brief glimmers in the dim jungle shade.


    [[ Rare Mana Core ]]


    [[ Can increase mana if absorbed ]]


    His eyebrows lifted slightly. So these could directly increase his mana? If he collected enough, he might be able to reach his second mana circle sooner than he had anticipated.


    A smirk tugged at his lips.


    That made this hunt even more worthwhile.


    He tucked the core back into his inventory, his gaze shifting toward the deeper part of the jungle - the source of the overwhelming mana presence.


    The aura pressing against his senses was unlike anything else on the island so far. Heavy. Almost suffocating.


    Whatever was waiting ahead was powerful.


    And he was going to kill it.

 Chapter 35 - 35: Mana Beast Island Part 2

    The jungle seemed to grow thicker the deeper Riven ventured. Towering trees loomed overhead, their gnarled roots twisting through the damp earth like veins. Vines dangled from massive branches, swaying with the occasional gust of warm, humid air. In the distance, the cries of mana beasts echoed through the jungle, some distant, others alarmingly close.


    He moved with purpose, his heightened senses picking up every shift in the undergrowth, every flicker of movement in the dense foliage. Several times, smaller beasts lunged at him - some serpentine creatures with gleaming fangs, others hulking reptilian forms with hardened scales. They were aggressive but predictable, and Riven dispatched them swiftly, cutting them down with precise strikes of his shadows or well-aimed fireballs.


    Each kill rewarded him with a new mana core.


    [[ Mana Beast Defeated ]]


    [[ Common Mana Core Acquired ]]


    [[ Mana Beast Defeated ]]


    [[ Uncommon Mana Core Acquired ]]


    The pile of cores in his inventory grew steadily¡­ Yet, none of these creatures were the true threat.


    The real prize lay ahead.


    The oppressive mana signature that had drawn him deeper into the jungle was closer now, its weight thickening the air around him. Every step forward made the atmosphere feel heavier, as if the very jungle was resisting his approach.


    Then, the trees thinned.


    Riven emerged into a clearing.


    And there it was.


    A colossal serpent lay coiled in the center of the clearing, its sheer size dwarfing anything Riven had encountered so far. Its scales shimmered like polished pearl, reflecting the dim light filtering through the jungle canopy. Each coil of its massive body was thick as a tree trunk, its length stretching across the clearing like a winding river of pale scales.


    It was¡­ breathtaking.


    And terrifying.


    The snake''s head rested lazily atop one of its coils, its golden eyes half-lidded as it observed him. It didn''t move - didn''t lash out, didn''t strike. But the sheer intensity of its presence made every muscle in Riven''s body tense.


    This wasn''t just any mana beast.


    It was something more.


    The jungle hadn''t been resisting his approach¡­ It had been warning him.


    [[ ERROR ]]


    [[ You have///Encou///ntered: The Divine¡ª¡ª Serpen¡­tine///beast¡­ Seraphis///]]


    [[ ERROR ]]


    Red notifications filled the air in front of him and Riven froze as he read the messages.


    An¡­ error?


    The flickering red notifications sent a sharp pulse of unease through Riven''s mind. He had only seen the system malfunction like this a few times before - and each time it meant bad news. The data scrambling, the fractured words¡ª this time it wasn''t just an error. It was something the system couldn''t fully process.


    His eyes snapped back to the serpent.


    Seraphis.


    The name alone carried a weight he didn''t yet understand. The divine serpentine beast. It watched him with those gleaming golden eyes, unblinking, its body motionless save for the faint, rhythmic expansion of its massive coils.


    Riven''s breath slowed.


    This was different from the other mana beasts he had fought. They were primal, instinct-driven, attacking on sight or reacting out of fear. But Seraphis¡­ it wasn''t reacting at all. It was simply waiting.


    Assessing.


    Testing.


    The pressure of its mana pressed down on him like an invisible hand. He could feel it in his bones, thrumming against his own reserves, making his own mana stir in response. This thing''s presence alone was enough to suffocate weaker beings.


    Riven clenched his fists, forcing himself to steady his breathing.


    He wasn''t weak.


    He had come here to fight.


    The tension stretched between them, a standoff of silent anticipation. The jungle seemed to hush around them, as if holding its breath for what was to come.


    Then-


    Seraphis moved.


    It was subtle, just a slow, deliberate uncoiling of its body, but the sheer grace of it sent a shiver down Riven''s spine. The movement was effortless, like water flowing, yet it carried the weight of something ancient, something that had long since transcended the concept of fear.


    Its golden eyes locked onto his.


    "Nyx¡­ come," Riven murmured, his lips barely moving to avoid drawing the serpent''s attention.


    A ripple of darkness unfurled beside him, and in an instant, Nyx emerged from the swirling shadows. Her blade was already drawn, the steel glinting under the dappled jungle light. Without hesitation, she positioned herself in front of Riven, her stance low and poised - ready to strike at a moment''s notice.


    Her obsidian eyes locked onto Seraphis, unflinching.


    "You certainly know how to attract trouble," Nyx murmured, her voice edged with quiet amusement.


    Seraphis tilted its massive head, its golden eyes narrowing as if assessing her. Its forked black tongue flickered out, tasting the air, and a slow, deliberate shudder rippled through its coiled body as it began to shift.


    Nyx tightened her grip on her sword. "This one won''t go down easily."


    Riven''s lips curled slightly, anticipation thrumming through his veins. His pulse quickened - not with fear, but with exhilaration.


    "Then let''s see what you can do, Abyss Born Nyx," he murmured.


    Nyx didn''t hesitate.


    The moment Riven gave the command, she vanished into the shadows. A pulse of dark energy flickered around her form, and in the next instant, she reappeared above Seraphis, her sword arcing downward in a precise, lethal strike.


    The serpent reacted impossibly fast.


    A blur of white coils surged upward, meeting her mid-air. A sickening crack echoed through the clearing as Nyx''s blade clashed against the reinforced scales, the impact sending her skidding backward. She landed lightly, adjusting her grip, her obsidian eyes narrowing.


    Seraphis hadn''t just blocked her attack.


    It had predicted it.


    The massive serpent uncoiled further, its golden eyes never leaving Nyx. There was no mindless aggression, no fury - only calculation. Intelligence. It had tested her once and found her wanting.


    Riven exhaled, his mind already working through their next move.


    This wasn''t a fight they could win through brute force alone.


    Nyx flicked her sword, shadows curling around the blade like wisps of smoke. "Its scales are tougher than anything I''ve encountered," she muttered. "I need an opening."


    Riven''s gaze flickered over the serpent''s massive form, assessing.


    The scales were immaculate - flawless pearl, shimmering with mana. Each one overlapped like natural armor, reinforcing the sheer durability of the beast. A direct attack would be ineffective unless-


    His eyes sharpened.


    The underbelly.


    Near its throat, where the scales thinned slightly to allow for movement.


    A weak point.


    Riven shifted his stance, summoning three fireballs in the air around him. The heat distorted the humid jungle air, crackling with raw energy. He didn''t launch them immediately. Instead, he let them orbit lazily, waiting for the perfect moment.


    Seraphis watched, its massive body shifting in a slow, deliberate motion. It knew they were planning something.


    And it was waiting.


    A predator with patience.


    Then, Riven moved.


    He flicked his wrist, sending the first fireball streaking toward the serpent''s head. As expected, Seraphis dodged with inhuman speed, its massive coils blurring as it reared back. But Riven had anticipated that.


    The second fireball curved midair, adjusting its trajectory.


    Seraphis twisted to avoid it.


    That''s when Riven struck.


    He surged forward, shadows exploding from beneath his feet, propelling him straight toward the serpent''s exposed underside. His fingers curled, mana surging through his limbs, coiling into his shadows - elongating them into razor-sharp claws.


    Seraphis noticed too late.


    Riven''s claws raked across its underbelly, cutting deep.


    For the first time, the serpent let out a sharp, hissing cry.


    A wound.


    Not deep enough to kill, but enough to draw blood.


    Glowing, golden ichor dripped onto the jungle floor, sizzling where it touched the earth. The air grew heavier, denser. The serpent''s aura flared wildly, its golden eyes narrowing in something eerily close to amusement.


    It had been testing them.


    Now, it was done playing.


    Seraphis moved like a flash of light, its coils twisting, striking faster than Riven could react. A wall of pale scales slammed into him with enough force to send him flying across the clearing. His back crashed into a thick tree trunk, the impact rattling his bones.


    Pain flared through his ribs.


    Before he could even suck in a breath, Seraphis was already upon him, its massive head looming overhead, fangs bared.


    A blur of movement.


    Nyx.


    She intercepted the strike, her blade clashing against the serpent''s fangs, shadows reinforcing the steel. The impact sent another shockwave through the jungle, leaves rustling violently in the wake of the force.


    Riven coughed, his vision momentarily swimming.


    That thing was too damn fast.


    And it wasn''t even using its full strength yet.


    Nyx held her ground, her blade pressed against the serpent''s fangs, her entire body straining against the force.


    Riven pushed himself up in an instant, ignoring the lingering ache in his ribs as he sprinted to the other side of Seraphis. He needed to buy Nyx time to recover. Three fireballs erupted into existence around him, their heat warping the thick jungle air. Without hesitation, he hurled them toward the serpent''s face.


    The explosions burst against Seraphis''s scaled head, momentarily obscuring its vision with fire and smoke. It wasn''t enough to wound it, but it gave Riven a brief window to think.


    Nyx recovered swiftly, already launching back into the fray. She moved in a blur of shadows, her sword a streak of darkness as she struck at the beast''s shifting coils. Riven joined her, his own attacks sharp and relentless, shadowed claws slicing at any opening they could find.


    Seraphis responded with terrifying speed.


    Its massive tail whipped through the air without warning.


    Riven barely had time to register the movement before the force slammed into him, sending him hurtling through the air towards the tree line.


    Nyx appeared in a swirl of shadows, catching him just before impact. Her grip was steady, her strength unfaltering. As soon as his feet touched the earth, she shifted back into a defensive stance, her sword raised as Seraphis lowered its colossal head toward them.


    Its golden eyes burned now - not with mere curiosity, but with fury.


    Nyx was already preparing to attack again when she suddenly hesitated.


    A glow flickered to life within Seraphis''s throat.


    A deep, resonating hum filled the air, growing in intensity, vibrating through the very ground beneath them. The golden light at the back of the serpent''s mouth swelled, expanding like the build-up before a storm.


    It was charging an attack.


    A devastating one.


    Seraphis reared back, its entire body coiling with raw power. The hum rose to a deafening crescendo. S§×arch* The NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Shit - MOVE!" Nyx yelled, grabbing Riven by the arm.


    But before they could react, a voice rang out through the clearing.


    A commanding, furious shout.


    Then-


    A blinding arc of blue fire slashed through the air, piercing straight into the serpent''s underbelly.


    Seraphis let out an ear-splitting screech, its body convulsing violently. The golden energy in its throat flickered, then dissipated as its massive form recoiled from the sudden strike.


    As the light faded, Riven''s gaze locked onto the figure standing beneath the serpent''s exposed underside.


    A man.


    His sword was buried deep into Seraphis''s weak spot - right where Riven had struck earlier.


    For the first time, the great serpent let out a sound of genuine pain.


    "Is that¡­" Riven''s words trailed off as he watched the man beneath Seraphis hack into its underbelly with reckless fury. His sword plunged in and out, over and over, carving into the serpent''s flesh like a man possessed.


    "How dare you lay a hand on my liege!" the man bellowed, his voice seething with outrage.


    Riven blinked.


    Nyx, unfazed, let out a resigned sigh. "Idiot." Without another word, she launched herself forward, her blade arcing toward Seraphis''s head in a renewed assault.


    Riven didn''t waste a second.


    His shadows exploded beneath his feet, propelling him high into the air. The jungle blurred around him as he soared above Seraphis, the serpent''s massive body writhing in agony below. It screeched, twisting violently as it tried - and failed - to escape the relentless strikes from the swordsman cutting his way through its exposed underbelly.


    There.


    Riven''s eyes locked onto the opening.


    Seraphis reared back, its mouth gaping wide in another piercing shriek.


    Riven didn''t hesitate.


    With a sharp exhale, he channeled every ounce of mana he could muster. Flames ignited around him in a furious blaze, dozens of fireballs forming in rapid succession. The heat seared against his skin, but he pushed past the strain.


    Then - with a roar - he unleashed them.


    A barrage of fireballs rained down, each one curving toward its target with deadly precision.


    Seraphis barely had time to react.


    The first fireball slammed straight into the serpent''s open maw, detonating with a deafening explosion. The second and third followed immediately, streaking down its gullet like molten comets.


    And then the rest hit.


    A chain reaction of violent eruptions burst within the beast''s massive form. Its body spasmed, convulsing as flames tore through its insides.


    Its shriek cut off abruptly.


    For a moment, everything was still.


    Then, with a final shuddering lurch, Seraphis collapsed.


    The ground trembled as the colossal serpent fell, its body crashing through the jungle floor in a cloud of dust and debris. The once-mighty beast let out one last, rasping breath - then went still.


    Silence.


    The only sound left was the crackling of lingering embers and the heavy breaths of those who had fought.


    [[ ERROR ]]


    [[ You /// Have ¡ª Slain //// ]]


    [[ ERROR]]


    Riven exhaled heavily, dismissing the red error notifications that once again flickered into existence around him. Whatever issue the system had with Seraphis, now wasn''t the time to dwell on it.


    "My liege!"


    Riven turned at the sound of the voice, his eyes widening slightly as he took in the sight before him.


    Krux - now fully formed - stood before him, drenched head to toe in shimmering golden ichor, his armor slick with the remnants of the divine serpent. He looked almost statuesque, like some gilded warrior sculpted from battle itself. Yet, despite his disheveled state, he dropped to one knee with unwavering devotion, holding up a massive, glowing red crystal with both hands.


    "I, Krux, have fulfilled your command and forged my human shell. Please accept the spoils of this magnificent beast, my liege."


    Riven nearly lost his composure.


    The image of Krux - covered in gold, kneeling in absolute reverence - was absurd enough to make him want to laugh. But he restrained himself, merely sighing instead. "You did well, Krux."


    He reached out, taking the heavy red crystal from the general''s hands. The moment it touched his palm, he expected the familiar chime of a system notification.


    Nothing came.


    His brows furrowed. "System, analyze this item."


    [[ Scanning¡­ ]]


    [[ ERROR ]]


    Riven''s lips pressed into a thin line.


    Again?


    He glanced down at the pulsing gem in his hands, its rich crimson glow faintly illuminating his fingers. Whatever it was, it clearly wasn''t something the system recognized. That in itself was concerning.


    With a quiet hum of consideration, he tucked the crystal into his inventory. I''ll figure it out later.


    Then - his chest pulsed.


    A sharp, rhythmic throb, deep beneath his ribs.


    Riven grit his teeth at the familiar yet strange sensation, his fingers instinctively tightening at his sides. It was just like last night when Nyx came to him - it wasn''t painful, but it was intrusive, something pressing against the edges of his mana heart like an unfamiliar presence demanding acknowledgment.


    Krux lowered his head even further, golden ichor dripping onto the jungle floor. His voice was steady, filled with unwavering conviction.


    "My liege, I swear my life to you."


    His words were a vow - an unbreakable oath.


    "I will be your sword and shield, your unwavering strength. Please, accept my bond."


    A notification materialized.


    [[ Attempting Bond Mark with Abyss Born Krux ]]


    [[ Do you accept this bond? ]]


    [[ Yes/No ]]


    Riven didn''t hesitate.


    He selected ''Yes.''


    And once more, as if driven by something beyond himself, his body moved on its own - his hand reaching forward to rest atop Krux''s bowed head.


    As Riven''s hand made contact with Krux''s bowed head, a rush of energy surged between them. Unlike with Nyx, this was not a quiet, simmering connection - this was raw, turbulent, unyielding.


    Krux''s mana roared to life beneath his touch, wild and untamed, like a battlefield echoing with the clash of steel and the cries of war. It was deep, aggressive, yet unwaveringly loyal. A mana that belonged to a warrior forged through countless battles.


    Riven''s instincts guided him once more.


    He delved deeper, past the surface of Krux''s power, searching for his mana heart. The moment he found it, he felt it pulse beneath his grasp - strong, hardened by time, waiting for its mark.


    And then - he branded it.


    A magic circle burned itself into existence, searing with a deep blue glow. It was just as complex as Nyx''s, the runic patterns shifting in constant motion.


    Pain lanced through Riven''s skull. The complexity of it strained his comprehension, but he didn''t falter. He carved his mark, embedding it deep within Krux''s very being.


    [[ Finalizing Bond. ]]


    Flashes of memories - visions, emotions - poured into him.


    For a moment, Riven wasn''t himself.


    He was Krux.


    He saw the battlefield from his eyes - felt the weight of a blade in his grip, the sheer force of his strikes shattering the earth beneath him. He heard the echoes of past wars, the cheers of victory, the roars of his enemies falling before him. And beneath it all, the unwavering devotion - the singular purpose that had driven him through life and death.


    To serve his king.


    To serve him.


    Riven gasped as he was pulled back into his own body, the intensity of the memories lingering like phantom sensations in his muscles. His grip loosened, his hand slipping from Krux''s hair as his mind adjusted to the bond.


    Krux remained where he was, still kneeling, his breathing uneven.


    Then, slowly, he lifted his head.


    "My king." His voice was steadier than before, filled with something that went beyond mere loyalty. It was an oath. A truth etched into his very soul.


    "I am now yours to command."

 Chapter 36 - 36: Seraphis

    Riven met Krux''s unwavering gaze, leaning in slightly, his voice low but commanding.


    "My first command¡­" His words carried an undeniable weight, thick with authority. The bond between them pulsed, and Krux visibly trembled, his entire being thrumming with anticipation.


    "Yes, my liege! Just say the word and I shall-"


    "Go clean yourself off," Riven interrupted, his expression twisting with barely concealed disgust as he flicked his fingers, trying to rid himself of the sticky golden ichor that had transferred from Krux''s hair.


    Krux froze.


    "¡­What?"


    "You''re covered in that stuff," Riven gestured vaguely at the thick ichor coating Krux from head to toe. "It''s disgusting. Wash it off before you do anything else."


    For a brief moment, silence stretched between them.


    Then-


    "¡­As you command, my king," Krux intoned solemnly, bowing so deeply it nearly made Riven roll his eyes before he darted off toward the nearest water source, trailing golden droplets in his wake.


    "What was that beast?" Nyx asked, her sharp eyes scanning him for any signs of injury.


    "I''m not sure." Riven exhaled, stepping closer to the massive, lifeless serpent. The sheer size of it was staggering up close, its pearlescent scales gleaming faintly in the dim jungle light. "Even the system didn''t recognize it."


    Nyx''s frown deepened as she knelt beside the fallen creature, tracing a hand over its thick hide. "The system didn''t know?" She glanced up at him, her expression unreadable. "That means Velmorian had little to no knowledge of this beast¡­ perhaps because these islands were once part of Varethun. If this thing came from there, it would explain the system''s lack of information."


    Riven crossed his arms, considering her words. "That makes sense. The system was built by Velmorian, and his understanding of Varethun was limited at best. If this creature is native to those lands, then of course the system wouldn''t recognize it."


    A heavy silence settled between them as they both stared at the fallen serpent. The weight of that revelation was unsettling.


    The longer Riven stared at the massive serpent, the more an idea began to take shape in his mind. His shadows stirred, their tendrils stretching out toward the beast, twitching with something close to anticipation. A hum of mana vibrated through the air, an unspoken call that made the very ground beneath him tremble.


    His gaze flickered to the shifting darkness slithering over the serpent''s scales.


    His shadows wanted this.


    A thought clicked into place, a reckless, impossible idea.


    But if it worked¡­


    Riven''s fingers curled, his pulse quickening. Surely not¡­


    He raised his hand, shadows trembling in anticipation as he channeled his mana, forcing it to flow through his veins and gather at his palm.


    "Awaken," he commanded.


    A brilliant dark-red magic circle flared to life before him, expanding outward in intricate layers. The sheer complexity of the runes made his head throb, the ever-growing web of symbols stretching to accommodate the sheer scale of what he was attempting.


    "My king¡­" Nyx murmured, her voice hushed with something between awe and uncertainty.


    Krux, who had only just returned from cleaning himself off, froze mid-step, eyes widening as he felt the shift in the air. "What is this¡­?"


    The very earth rumbled beneath them.


    Riven''s shadows flickered violently as thick tendrils of red mist unfurled from the summoning circle, reaching forward with slow, deliberate purpose.


    [[ Attempting Skill: Puppeteer of the Dead ]]


    The tendrils crept toward the fallen serpent, wrapping around its colossal body, winding between its scales like whispering fingers of fate.


    Riven clenched his jaw, his muscles tensing as the spell demanded more and more mana.


    "Come on¡­" he growled, forcing every ounce of control into the casting.


    The serpent''s massive form twitched.


    Then convulsed.


    The beast shuddered violently, its lifeless muscles jerking against the pull of the red tendrils as if resisting its purpose.


    The ground continued to tremble beneath Riven''s feet as the red mist thickened, seeping into the massive serpent''s scales like ink bleeding into fabric. Its body lurched, violent spasms rolling through its form as if some unseen force was trying to deny the spell''s control.


    Riven grit his teeth, the pressure of maintaining the spell pressing down on him like an unrelenting weight. Sweat beaded at his brow, his mana surging, coiling, stretching past its limits to force the beast into submission.


    Why is it fighting back this hard? Was it because it was a divine beast?


    The red tendrils continued wrapping around Seraphis''s form, twisting and binding like chains. A low, guttural hum vibrated through the air as the magic circle pulsed furiously, responding to Riven''s sheer force of will.


    The spell was working. Slowly.


    Then, an unexpected notification flickered across his vision.


    [[ Warning: Entity possesses remnants of a Divine Core. Full subjugation will require additional mana. Proceed? ]]


    [[ Yes / No ]]


    Riven''s eyes widened slightly. A Divine Core? He had never heard of that term before. But if that was what made this creature so powerful, so resistant to his control¡­


    His shadows stirred impatiently, feeding off his own hunger for power.


    He exhaled sharply. No turning back now.


    "Yes."


    The moment he accepted the notification, a surge of mana erupted from Riven''s mana heart, pouring into the magic circle at a rate he hadn''t anticipated. His vision blurred for a second, his limbs going rigid as the sheer drain took hold.


    The tendrils constricting Seraphis flared, the red mist morphing into jagged streaks of energy. The serpent''s massive body arched, its tail slamming against the earth with a thunderous crack as its form began to contort unnaturally.


    Nyx took a cautious step forward, her fingers tightening around her blade. "My king¡­ is this safe?"


    Riven didn''t answer.


    Because he wasn''t sure.


    His entire body burned, his mana reserves dangerously thin. He could feel the spell nearing completion - but the price for controlling a beast of this magnitude was pushing him to his very limits.


    The serpent''s head snapped up.


    Its golden eyes, once dulled by death, had turned into twin voids - deep, endless, and brimming with abyssal energy. Dark mana seeped from them like wisps of living shadow, curling and twisting in the air as if the beast itself had become an extension of the darkness.


    The shadows pulsed one final time - then snapped inward.


    Seraphis let out a deafening hiss, its massive coils unraveling in a wave of movement as the last remnants of resistance shattered under Riven''s will.


    The beast¡­ was his.


    The notifications came in rapid succession.


    [[ Subjugation Successful ]]


    [[ Warning: Maintaining control over a Divine-Grade entity will require consistent mana flow. Overextension may result in loss of control. ]]


    [[ Mana Reserves Critically Low ]]


    [[ Adding Divine Beast Seraphis as an an undead minion (1/5) ]]


    Riven''s knees buckled. He caught himself, inhaling sharply as the weight of exhaustion crashed over him. His entire body ached from the sheer output of mana he had just expended.


    But it was done.


    He had done it.


    Seraphis loomed over him, its colossal head lowering until its dark eyes met his once more. This time, there was no wildness, no divine presence resisting him. Only obedience. Its forked tongue flickered briefly, tasting the air - before it lowered its head completely, bowing.


    Riven exhaled, barely keeping himself upright.


    "My king." Nyx''s voice was steady, though there was something unreadable in her expression. Perhaps awe. Perhaps wariness.


    Krux, on the other hand, had his hands clenched into fists, his expression filled with nothing but pure, unfiltered admiration. "To take dominion over a Divine creature¡­ as expected of you, my liege! Truly, a King above all Kings!"


    Riven ignored him, still catching his breath. His body screamed for rest, his mana reserves practically nonexistent.


    But the rush of victory dulled the pain.


    He had taken control of something the system couldn''t even identify properly.


    With a mere thought, Riven issued the silent command for Seraphis to retreat into his shadow.


    A sudden gust stirred the air, a hushed whisper of power sweeping through the clearing. Shadows swirled like ink in water, curling around the massive serpent''s form. Piece by piece, its colossal body dissolved into the darkness, vanishing soundlessly until nothing remained.


    Riven exhaled, watching in awe as the last tendrils of shadow slithered back into his own, the beast now concealed within him.


    A slight shudder ran through him as the beast''s power settled within his shadow - coiled, waiting, like a hidden blade poised to strike at a moment''s notice. S§×ar?h the n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    [[ WARNING ]]


    [[ Someone is rapidly approaching your location ]]


    Riven''s pulse quickened at the notification, but he forced himself to remain calm.


    "Both of you, retreat," he commanded without hesitation.


    Nyx and Krux obeyed instantly, vanishing into his shadow in a swirl of darkness. The moment they were concealed, Riven allowed himself to stagger back, lowering himself onto the jungle floor. He leaned back on his hands, tilting his head skyward as he shut his eyes, willing his breath to steady.


    Everything he had done so far - summoning, fighting, binding Seraphis - had drained his mana faster than he anticipated. He was running on fumes.


    This needed to change.


    He made a firm decision then and there.


    From now on, his primary focus would be advancing to the Second Circle. His mana reserves were too shallow for the kind of power he wielded, and if he wanted to use Seraphis properly - if he wanted to push his abilities even further - he needed more. Much more.


    A rustling in the trees signaled the arrival of the approaching figure.


    "You ran off so quickly that I didn''t even get the chance to equip you with a timer," Elder Thorne''s voice carried through the clearing.


    Riven pried one eye open, watching as his instructor stepped into view, his golden eyes sharp as ever.


    "I apologize," Riven exhaled, still catching his breath. "I guess I got a little too excited."


    "Hmm." Elder Thorne''s lips curled slightly, his gaze sweeping over Riven''s bloodstained clothes and tangled hair. He was practically drenched in dried ichor and mana beast remain. It was clear the boy had gone through far more than a simple hunt, and Elder Thorne looked almost eager to assess just how many mana cores he had managed to collect.


    Taking another step forward, Elder Thorne suddenly froze.


    His amused expression faded, his brows furrowing as his eyes flicked across the clearing. Slowly, he crouched, pressing his fingers into the damp earth near a glistening puddle of golden ichor - the only physical remnant of Seraphis''s presence.


    Riven remained still, his face unreadable.


    "Elder?" he asked, tilting his head slightly in feigned curiosity.


    Elder Thorne said nothing at first, his gaze lingering on the ichor before shifting back to Riven. A long silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken questions. Then, finally, the man let out a soft sigh.


    With a flick of his wrist, a pulse of mana surged forward, and a glowing sequence of shifting numbers appeared on Riven''s arm.


    A countdown.


    "You have six hours left." Elder Thorne''s tone was even, but there was something in his gaze - something knowing. He studied Riven for a fraction of a second longer before turning on his heel. "Don''t waste time lounging around."


    As he disappeared back into the jungle, Riven let out a quiet chuckle.


    His gaze drifted down to the flickering shadow beneath him, now deeper, darker - heavier.


    He wasn''t planning on wasting a single minute.

 Chapter 37 - 37: And the winner is…

    Riven let out a slow breath, his exhaustion momentarily forgotten as he stared at the now-empty clearing. The weight of Seraphis''s presence still lingered within him, a silent, coiled force resting in the depths of his shadow. Even now, he could feel the beast''s mana thrumming through him, shifting, waiting.


    This¡­ this changed everything.


    The sheer power he had absorbed was unlike anything he had wielded before. But it wasn''t just about power. It was about what it meant.


    If he could take control of a divine-grade entity¡­ then the limits of what he could command had just expanded far beyond anything he had ever imagined.


    And yet¡­


    Riven flexed his fingers absently, feeling the strain of his depleted mana still weighing him down. He wasn''t strong enough yet. Not truly. Taking control of Seraphis had nearly drained him completely.


    His gaze flicked down to the countdown still glowing faintly on his forearm.


    Six hours left.


    He exhaled sharply. He had work to do.


    With a flick of his fingers, he sent a silent command through the bond.


    Nyx. Krux. Come out.


    Dark tendrils of shadow slithered across the ground, forming two distinct shapes as Nyx and Krux emerged from their concealed forms. Nyx stepped forward immediately, scanning the surroundings with a sharp, assessing gaze - making sure they were alone again before she focused back on Riven. Her expression was unreadable, but something in her dark eyes gleamed with quiet excitement.


    "My king," she murmured, bowing her head slightly. "You''ve done something¡­ remarkable."


    Riven simply nodded, stretching his arms and legs to shake off the lingering stiffness in his body. "It''s a start," he admitted. "But I nearly drained myself in the process. I need to form my Second Circle if I want to maintain control over Seraphis without it becoming a liability."


    Krux, ever the dramatic one, stepped forward with his fists clenched, still practically radiating unfiltered admiration. "Let me say this again - you are beyond comprehension, my liege! To subjugate a divine creature¡­ ha! The legends of your reign will be sung across the abyss for eternity!"


    Riven arched an eyebrow. "Uh-huh. And yet, I don''t have time for songs. We''re on a clock."


    Krux straightened immediately. "Of course, my liege! Then allow me to scout ahead for more mana beasts worthy of your strength! I shall bring you only the strongest prey!"


    "¡­Just don''t get carried away," Riven sighed, rubbing his temple. "We need as many mana cores as we can get."


    Krux clutched his chest as if wounded. "You doubt me? Never! I will return with only the most formidable foes!" With that, he blurred into the jungle, disappearing into the undergrowth.


    Riven sighed. "I give it ten minutes before he picks a fight with something unreasonable."


    Nyx smirked. "Five."


    Shaking his head, Riven turned his focus back to the task at hand.


    Right now, his priority was gathering more mana cores. If he wanted to expand his mana reserves and solidify his control over Seraphis, he needed to push himself to his limit before he had to leave this island.


    He needed more mana cores. As many as possible.


    "Go," Riven ordered, his voice firm. "Gather as many as you can."


    Nyx bowed in acknowledgment before vanishing into the jungle, her form dissolving into the shadows.


    Riven flexed his fingers, dark energy coiling around them as his shadow claws took shape once more. His gaze shifted, locking onto a nearby mana beast prowling through the underbrush.


    A slow smirk tugged at his lips.


    Time to hunt.


    ¡ªx¡ª


    As the final minutes of the countdown ticked away, Riven exhaled a slow, satisfied breath. He withdrew his hand from the gaping wound in a mana beast''s chest, its still-warm heart slipping from his grip as the creature collapsed lifelessly to the ground.


    [[ Mana Beast Defeated ]]


    [[ Rare Mana Core Acquired ]]


    With a flick of his wrist, he shook off the excess blood, droplets splattering against the jungle floor. Not that it made much difference. After reprimanding Krux earlier, it was almost ironic how he now found himself drenched in mana beast blood, from head to toe.


    "Ugh." Riven wrinkled his nose in distaste, glancing down at himself before turning on his heel and making his way back to the small pond he had passed earlier.


    Kneeling by the water''s edge, he cupped his hands, scooping up the lukewarm water and splashing it over his face. The moment it touched his skin, streaks of deep red bled into the surface, swirling like ink in water.


    His reflection stared back at him¡ªfamiliar, yet different.


    The boy he had once been was nowhere to be seen.


    His features were sharper now, his jawline more defined, the soft traces of youth burned away by battle and bloodshed. His eyes, once just deep pools of thought, now carried something darker - an edge, a quiet intensity that hadn''t been there before.


    Riven smirked, his damp hair clinging to his skin.


    He was changing.


    Inside and out.


    The stillness of the jungle settled around him, the humid air thick with the scent of blood and damp earth. Riven ran a hand through his wet hair, shaking off the excess water before rising to his feet. The countdown on his forearm flickered.


    Five minutes left.


    He exhaled, rolling his neck to shake off the lingering tension in his muscles. His body ached, his mana reserves still far from full, but the weight in his inventory told him that today had been a success.


    [[ Inventory: Mana Cores Collected ]]


    [[ Common Mana Cores: 87 ]]


    [[ Uncommon Mana Cores: 22 ]]


    [[ Rare Mana Cores: 14 ]]


    More than enough to push him closer to his goal and to win this competition.


    A flicker of movement in his peripheral vision made him glance to the side. Nyx emerged from the shadows near the treeline, her armor unmarred, not a single drop of blood staining her as she approached.


    "I take it your hunt was successful?" Riven asked, arching a brow.


    Nyx smirked slightly. "A productive endeavor. I gathered a rather sizeable amount."


    "Good." He nodded. His gaze shifted toward the jungle. "Where''s Krux?"


    "Here, my king!"


    Krux''s voice boomed through the clearing, and a moment later, the warrior burst through the undergrowth, dragging something behind him. A massive, mangled mana beast - a hulking creature with thick, scaly hide - was clutched in his grip, its head dangling limply to one side. Krux grinned proudly, his chest heaving from exertion.


    "This beast put up an admirable fight!" he declared. "But, of course, it was no match for your most devoted general!" He threw the corpse onto the ground with a heavy thud. "Behold, another worthy offering for my liege!"


    Riven stared at the dead beast, unimpressed. "And how much time did you waste fighting this thing?"


    Krux blinked. "¡­A negligible amount?"


    Nyx sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "I win - it was within five minutes."


    Riven sighed and shook his head, a small chuckle escaping his lips before he looked back at Krux who was scratching his head in confusion.


    "I have no need for the corpse, Krux." Riven said and then lifted his hand. "Transport all the cores into my inventory and then hide in my shadow. I''ll call for you again tonight once I''m alone."


    Both knelt before him and grasped his hand.


    [[ Items received from: Abyss Born Nyx! ]]


    [[ Items received from: Abyss Born Krux! ]]


    As they both disappeared into his shadows in a swirl of inky darkness, Riven checked his inventory once more with the new cores he received.


    His dark blue eyes sparkled and his lips curved as he looked in his inventory.


    Yeah¡­ this was definitely enough.


    ¡ªx¡ª


    The dense jungle gave way to a clearing where the class was already gathered, standing in a loose circle around Elder Thorne. The teleportation gate shimmered behind them, casting a faint glow across the bloodstained ground.


    Lucenya, Jerrik, and Valis stood together, their expressions shifting the moment they spotted Riven.


    Silence fell.


    Riven strode into the clearing, his boots squelching slightly against the damp earth, and only then did he register why they were staring.


    Oh.


    Right.


    He looked¡­ terrible.


    Blood soaked his clothes, dried in thick patches along his arms and chest. Even after cleaning himself up at the pond, streaks of dark red still clung stubbornly to his skin, evidence of the sheer number of beasts he had cut down. His once neatly tied hair had long since come undone, hanging damp and tangled over his forehead.


    He probably looked less like a student and more like something that had crawled out of a battlefield.


    Lucenya was the first to recover, though her green eyes were still wide with something between admiration and disbelief. "You look¡­ awful."


    "Charming as always," Riven muttered.


    Valis scowled, crossing his arms. "What the hell were you doing out there? Swimming in their blood?"


    Jerrik just let out a low whistle, shaking his head. "You look like you had fun."


    Riven smirked. "Something like that."


    Elder Thorne, who had been watching silently, finally spoke. "Now that we''re all here, it''s time to see how well you all did."


    With a wave of his hand, a magical scale materialized in front of him. The ornate object hovered slightly off the ground, pulsing faintly with mana. It was designed to measure the total value of the mana cores collected - not just in number, but in overall quality.


    "You''ll each take turns placing your mana cores into the scale," Elder Thorne instructed. "The weight of the mana will determine your ranking."


    Lucenya stepped forward first.


    She untied the small pouch from her waist, her fingers slipping inside with practiced ease. Then - without hesitation - she pulled out handfuls of glowing mana cores, far more than what should have ever been able to fit in such a tiny bag.


    Riven''s eyes narrowed.


    A spatial storage item?


    His mind immediately compared it to his own system inventory, but this was different. More primitive, perhaps, but still incredibly useful. Just what kind of magic was embedded into that pouch?


    She placed them onto the scale, and immediately, the weight shifted. Numbers appeared in the air above it, glowing softly.


    [[ Common Mana Cores: 28 ]]


    [[ Uncommon Mana Cores: 4 ]]


    Elder Thorne nodded in approval. "A decent haul."


    Lucenya stepped back, crossing her arms. "Not as many as I''d hoped," she muttered.


    Next was Jerrik. He dropped his cores onto the scale with little ceremony.


    [[ Common Mana Cores: 30 ]]


    [[ Uncommon Mana Cores: 6 ]]


    Not bad. A solid improvement over Lucenya. He just shrugged as if he wasn''t particularly invested in the results.


    Valis went next.


    With his usual air of arrogance, he strode forward, retrieving a pouch identical to Lucenya''s. Without hesitation, he tipped its contents onto the scale, letting the glowing mana cores spill out in a shimmering cascade.


    [[ Common Mana Cores: 35 ]]


    [[ Uncommon Mana Cores: 7 ]]


    [[ Rare Mana Core: 1 ]]


    A ripple of surprise passed through the group. A rare core. Even Jerrik raised an eyebrow.


    Valis smirked, crossing his arms. "Not bad, huh?"


    Elder Thorne hummed. "A solid result."


    Then - his gaze shifted to Riven.


    "You''re next."


    The others turned to him expectantly.


    Riven stepped forward and accessed his inventory. Without a word, he willed all of his mana cores into existence.


    In a single moment, an avalanche of glowing orbs materialized in the air, cascading onto the scale like a tidal wave.


    The numbers exploded.


    [[ Common Mana Cores: 87 ]]


    [[ Uncommon Mana Cores: 22 ]]


    [[ Rare Mana Cores: 14 ]] S~ea??h the novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Silence.


    The scale trembled under the sheer weight of the collected mana, glowing with a brilliance that dwarfed every other attempt before it.


    Lucenya''s jaw dropped.


    Jerrik let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. "Holy shit."


    Valis, for the first time, looked genuinely taken aback. His brows furrowed, his fingers twitching slightly as if physically restraining himself from reacting.


    Elder Thorne tilted his head slightly, a knowing gleam in his golden eyes. "Impressive," he mused, though there was something pointed in his tone. He knew Riven had done more than just gather random cores.


    But he didn''t press the matter.


    Instead, he waved his hand, causing the scale to vanish.


    "Riven," he said. "You win."


    Lucenya let out a breath, her expression shifting from shock to reluctant amusement. "Well, that was¡­ completely one-sided."


    Jerrik snorted. "That''s an understatement."


    Valis said nothing, still staring at the spot where the scale had been, lips pressed into a tight line.


    Riven simply smirked.


    Of course he won.


    Elder Thorne continued, "Your reward is a full day on a mana-dense island of your choosing. Think on it tonight and report your decision to me in the morning."


    Riven nodded. He already knew exactly what he wanted.


    A fire mana island.


    If he could soak in pure fire mana for an entire day, he could restore the legendary fire staff in his inventory - and push himself even closer to forming his Second Circle.


    Elder Thorne''s gaze swept over the rest of the group. "For those of you who didn''t win, don''t consider this a loss. Your collected mana cores still hold significant value. Even common cores can fetch a high price if sold to the right people."


    Lucenya perked up at that. "So we can sell them?"


    Elder Thorne nodded. "If you choose to. Mana cores are used in potion-making, enchantments, and high-tier spellcasting materials. Depending on the quality, they can be worth quite a bit."


    Jerrik glanced at Riven. "What about you? Gonna sell yours?"


    Riven chuckled. "Not a chance."


    He wasn''t interested in money.


    He was interested in power.


    And right now, every single one of these mana cores would be used to further his own strength.


    The thought sent a thrill through him.


    This was just the beginning.


    As Elder Thorne turned back toward the teleportation gate, motioning for them to follow, Riven''s gaze lingered on the jungle for a fraction of a second longer.


    His fingers twitched at his side.


    Deep in the depths of his shadow, Seraphis stirred.


    Riven smirked, satisfaction settling deep within him as he walked through the gate. Today had been nothing short of profitable.

 Chapter 38 - 38: Second Cirlce Part 1

    The soft hum of the teleportation gate faded as the group reappeared in the academy''s main courtyard. The shift from the humid, blood-soaked jungle to the crisp evening air of the academy grounds was almost jarring. A few students from other classes lingered nearby, casting curious glances at the returning group, but Riven barely paid them any attention.


    His clothes, still stained with dried mana beast blood, clung to his skin, a stark contrast to the cleaner appearances of Lucenya, Jerrik, and Valis. It only made their earlier reactions to his sheer mana core haul more amusing.


    Lucenya exhaled heavily, stretching her arms above her head. "I feel like I could sleep for an entire day after that."


    "You could," Jerrik agreed, rolling his shoulders. "But you''d be wasting an opportunity. Selling those cores could get you some solid gear upgrades."


    Valis, still quiet from his loss, walked a little ahead of them, his shoulders tense.


    Riven''s gaze drifted back to Elder Thorne, who stood at the front of the group, golden eyes observing them with quiet amusement. He motioned for them to gather.


    "Now that we''re back, I expect you all to reflect on today''s hunt," Elder Thorne said, his tone measured. "Combat experience isn''t just about individual victories. It''s about learning. Adjusting. If you want to reach the top, you need to analyze not just your own strengths, but your weaknesses." His gaze flicked momentarily to Riven before settling on the group as a whole. "Today was merely a test. The real training starts now."


    Lucenya groaned. "Why do I feel like that means suffering?"


    "Because it does," Jerrik muttered.


    "Pain is nothing more than a passing whisper on the path to true power." Elder Thorne''s golden eyes then shifted, locking onto Riven with pointed intensity. "And as for you-"


    Riven straightened slightly.


    "Remember, you have until tomorrow morning to decide which mana-dense island you''ll be using for your reward. Choose wisely."


    "I already know where I''m going," Riven replied without hesitation.


    Elder Thorne''s eyebrow lifted. "Oh?"


    "A fire mana island," Riven said, meeting his gaze directly.


    For the first time, Elder Thorne''s amusement dimmed slightly, replaced by a flicker of something more calculating. "Fire, is it?" He studied Riven for a moment before nodding. "That makes sense seeing as you''re a Drakar. Report to me at dawn, and I''ll make the arrangements."


    Riven inclined his head.


    The fire mana island would serve two purposes - first, it would allow him to absorb and refine his own mana in peace. Second, and perhaps more importantly, he needed it to restore the legendary fire staff still sitting in his inventory. The thought of unlocking its full potential sent a thrill through him.


    Lucenya clapped her hands together. "Alright, we done here? Because I desperately need food and sleep."


    Elder Thorne waved them off. "Rest up. You''ll need it."


    Without further prompting, Lucenya and Jerrik turned toward the dorms. Valis hesitated a moment longer, then shot Riven a look - one filled with something unreadable - before following them without a word.


    Riven lingered.


    Elder Thorne caught the pause. "Something on your mind?"


    Riven debated for a moment before asking, "Mana cores. You mentioned they fetch a high price. What''s the best way to¡­ offload them?"


    Elder Thorne chuckled, crossing his arms. "Planning to make a fortune?"


    "Just curious."


    "There are a few ways," Elder Thorne mused. "The academy has its own trade network, mainly dealing with alchemists and enchanters who buy cores in bulk for research. Then there''s the underground market - riskier, but you can fetch nearly double the price if you know the right buyers."


    Riven hummed. He had no need for money himself, but information like this was always useful.


    Elder Thorne watched him for a moment before smirking. "But knowing you, I doubt you''ll be selling them anytime soon."


    Riven smirked back. "Not a chance."


    Power was worth far more than money.


    With that, Riven turned on his heel and made his way toward the dorms.


    ¡ªx¡ª


    The hallways of the academy were mostly empty, with only a few students milling about. Riven pushed open the door to his room, stepping inside with a sigh. The familiar dark interior greeted him, the faint flicker of enchanted sconces casting dim light across the walls.


    He shut the door behind him, feeling the weight of exhaustion on his shoulders as he walked towards the small training room. Then, with a flick of his wrist, he sent out a silent command. S~ea??h the N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Come out.


    The shadows at his feet stirred.


    In an instant, Nyx and Krux materialized before him, their figures forming seamlessly from the darkness.


    Nyx''s sharp eyes assessed him immediately. "No interferences?"


    "None," Riven confirmed.


    Krux, however, was practically vibrating with excitement. "My liege! Your performance today was nothing short of awe-inspiring! The way you crushed the competition-"


    "Yes, yes," Riven interrupted, rubbing his temple. "I appreciate the sentiment, Krux, but I would appreciate some silence for a moment."


    Krux huffed but obediently fell silent.


    Riven exhaled, then accessed his inventory, scrolling through the long list of mana cores he had accumulated. The sheer number of them was impressive, but his real focus was on the rare ones.


    Fourteen rare mana cores.


    It was time to put them to use.


    He reached out, pulling one from his inventory. The large crystal gleamed faintly in his palm, its energy humming with untapped power.


    Nyx tilted her head. "You''re planning to absorb them all at once?"


    "Yes." Riven rolled the mana core between his fingers. "If I want to reach my Second Circle before stepping onto that fire mana island, I don''t have time to waste."


    Nyx considered this, then nodded. "Your mana reserves are strong enough now. The risk should be minimal."


    Riven grinned. "Then let''s begin."


    He sat down cross-legged on the floor, grasping the mana core in his palm. He took a slow breath, centering himself. His mana, though depleted from the day''s hunt, still flickered inside him like a low-burning ember.


    Then - he activated the absorption process.


    The mana core shuddered.


    A surge of energy pulsed from the crystal, seeping into his body in a steady flow. His veins burned with the influx of raw power, his mana channels stretching, expanding as they adapted to the sudden increase.


    It was intense.


    But it wasn''t enough.


    Not yet.


    He reached for another.


    And another.


    [[ Absorbing Mana: (+40%) ]]


    [[ 43%¡­ ]]


    [[ 44%¡­ ]]


    One by one, the rare mana cores dissolved into pure energy, flowing into his body like molten fire. His mana percentage jumped up with each core. His vision blurred, his senses heightened as his mana surged beyond its previous limits. His core - his First Circle - trembled, spinning wildly as it struggled to contain the mana.


    [[ 72%¡­ ]]


    [[ 73%¡­ ]]


    It was close.


    He kept absorbing the cores, moving seamlessly from the rare ones to the uncommon, and finally to the common. If anyone had witnessed the sheer number of mana cores he was consuming like mere snacks, they would have been sick with envy.


    [[ 98%¡­ ]]


    [[ 99%¡­ ]]


    So close.


    Then-


    A system notification flashed across his vision.


    [[ Mana Heart Expansion Ready. Initiate second circle formation? ]]


    [[ Upgrade will take 8 hours ]]


    [[ Would you like to proceed? ]]


    [[ Yes / No ]]


    "Guard me while I upgrade my mana heart." Riven''s gaze flickered to the two warriors standing at attention. "It''ll take until morning - make sure no one disturbs me."


    Nyx and Krux bowed their heads in unison. "As you command, my king."


    Riven exhaled slowly, steadying himself. Then, with a final glance at his devoted sentinels, he selected ''Yes''.


    Darkness consumed him.


    ¡ªx¡ª


    The void stretched endlessly around Riven. A sensation both familiar and foreign settled over him - weightless yet heavy, empty yet filled with something vast and incomprehensible.


    Then, the darkness shifted.


    A cold wind swept past him, carrying the faint echoes of whispers - distant, ancient voices murmuring in a language he couldn''t quite understand. The sensation tugged at something deep inside him, stirring his mana heart as if responding to a call it had always known existed.


    Light bloomed in the distance.


    A massive structure took shape before him, its form emerging from the void like a memory pulled from the depths of time. A towering temple, carved from blackened stone, loomed in the endless dark. Its surface shimmered faintly, as though it existed between realms, untouched by time. Ethereal runes lined its pillars, glowing softly with an eerie violet light.


    Riven took a step forward, his boots clicking against smooth obsidian floors. The temple doors loomed ahead - monolithic gates, adorned with carvings of intertwining shadows and skeletal hands reaching toward the heavens.


    The statue at the temple''s peak caught his attention.


    The statue was so unnervingly lifelike that Riven hesitated, his breath hitching as he tried to determine whether it was truly stone or something else entirely. Its piercing violet eyes seemed to burn into him, gleaming with an intensity that defied the stillness of its form. A chill crawled down his spine, and before he could stop himself, he took an involuntary step back.


    He knew who it was.


    Velmorian. The previous King of the Shadow Kingdom.


    Taking a deep breath, he pushed forward.


    The doors creaked open without his touch.


    A long, dimly lit hall stretched beyond, lined with massive stone statues - warriors clad in armor, their hands gripping jagged weapons.


    No - not statues.


    People.


    The realization struck as the air around him pulsed with mana.


    The figures moved.


    And Riven''s breath caught.


    Because he recognized them.


    Nyx.


    Krux.


    And three more warriors he had never seen before - but knew instinctively.


    The five generals of the Shadow Kingdom.


    His generals.


    Except¡­ they didn''t know him.


    They stood tall, their expressions impassive, their forms younger, sharper, untouched by time or undeath. They wore the insignia of the Shadow Kingdom on their armor, a crown of bones, and the weight of their presence was undeniable.


    A presence that was not welcoming.


    A voice echoed through the chamber - deep, resonant, filled with unyielding authority.


    "You are unworthy."


    Riven''s pulse spiked.


    The voice came from the far end of the hall.


    A figure sat atop an elevated throne, his face obscured by the shadows that pooled around him. His presence alone felt suffocating - the sheer weight of his mana pressing against the very fabric of the space.


    The previous King of Shadows.


    Velmorian.


    Riven clenched his fists, stepping forward despite the crushing pressure. "You are but a figment of the system," he said evenly. "Just begin whatever trial you''ve set for me, I''ll pass it no matter what."


    Silence.


    Then, Velmorian chuckled - a deep, cold sound that sent shivers through the air.


    "Then prove it."


    The five warriors shifted into a battle stance.


    Riven barely had time to react before Nyx vanished.


    His instincts screamed.


    He twisted just in time to dodge a slash aimed at his throat. Nyx''s blade shimmered in the dim light as she reappeared behind him, her obsidian eyes void of recognition.


    A sharp pain exploded across Riven''s ribs as Krux''s gauntleted fist struck him, sending him skidding across the polished floor. His body barely had time to register the impact before another attack followed - one of the other generals, a towering brute with molten-red eyes, swung a massive greatsword downward.


    Riven''s shadows flared.


    He barely had time to summon a fireball before another sword came crashing down from above, its sheer force splitting the air and sending jagged cracks spiderwebbing across the floor.


    Shit.


    He rolled, dodging as Nyx flickered back into the fray, her movements blurring like a phantom. A second general - a pale, silver-haired woman with twin daggers - launched forward, her weapons coated in seething darkness.


    Riven''s mind raced.


    This wasn''t just a fight.


    This was a test.


    But a test of what?


    Endurance? Strength? Or something deeper?


    He had to think. Fast.


    His gaze flicked to Velmorian, still watching from the throne, his unreadable eyes gleaming in the shadows.


    He''s not interfering.


    Which meant-


    Riven grinned, wiping the blood from his lip.


    They wouldn''t stop attacking until he made them stop.


    Fine.


    He''d make them kneel.


    His mana flared.


    His shadows surged.


    And the battle truly began.

 Chapter 39 - 39: Second Circle Part 2

    Dark energy crackled in the air as Riven steadied himself. He exhaled, forcing himself to focus - not on the pain, not on the overwhelming presence of his opponents, but on the fight itself.


    This wasn''t just about survival.


    This was about domination.


    The five generals were watching him now, their gazes sharp, assessing. They moved like predators, circling him in slow, calculated motions, waiting for an opening. Nyx and Krux were at the forefront, their weapons gleaming with the eerie glow of shadowed mana. The silver-haired woman with twin daggers shifted lightly on her feet, her stance fluid, deadly. The brute with the greatsword stood like an immovable wall, his molten-red eyes unblinking. The final general, a slender figure cloaked in flowing midnight robes, simply stood at the edge of the battlefield, watching.


    Their lack of hesitation told Riven everything he needed to know.


    They didn''t see him as their king.


    They saw him as an intruder.


    Fine.


    Then he''d show them exactly who he was.


    With a flick of his wrist, his shadows surged, coiling around his arms and legs like living tendrils. His fingers curled into claws, dark energy crackling between them.


    The silence shattered.


    Nyx moved first, vanishing in a blur of shadows.


    Riven felt it - felt the pull of mana, the way the air shifted just behind him. He twisted at the last moment, raising his arm just as her blade came slicing down. Metal clashed against the hardened density of his shadow-coated forearm, sparks flying.


    But he wasn''t given a moment to counter.


    Krux was already there, a hammer-like fist hurtling toward him.


    Riven shifted, raising a wall of shadows to absorb the brunt of the blow. The impact sent ripples through the dark energy, but he used it to propel himself backward, gaining distance.


    Not that it helped.


    The silver-haired woman was already there, daggers flashing as she lunged.


    Riven barely managed to twist his body, the cold bite of her blade grazing his side. A sharp pain flared, but he pushed past it, his instincts screaming as he caught sight of the brute with the greatsword lifting his weapon overhead.


    Too fast.


    Riven snarled, slamming his hands against the ground.


    Shadows erupted in jagged spikes, forcing his attackers back just as the greatsword came crashing down. The floor cracked under the sheer force, tremors shaking through the temple hall.


    He barely had time to breathe before Nyx flickered back into existence.


    Her blade was already descending.


    This time, Riven didn''t dodge.


    He caught it.


    His hand, wreathed in dark energy, closed around the steel, stopping it just inches from his throat.


    For a single moment, their gazes met.


    And for the first time since the battle began, Nyx hesitated.


    Riven smirked.


    Then he twisted, yanking the blade free from her grasp and flinging it aside.


    A pulse of mana exploded from his core, and shadows surged outward in a violent shockwave, forcing all five generals back.


    Silence stretched in the aftermath, the air thick with tension.


    Velmorian''s voice cut through it like a blade.


    "Interesting."


    Riven''s chest rose and fell with steady breaths, his shadows still flickering like restless flames.


    The five generals regrouped, but something had changed. They no longer rushed in recklessly. They were watching him differently now, their eyes filled with something beyond mere aggression.


    Recognition.


    Riven straightened, his smirk deepening. "What''s wrong?" he taunted. "Starting to see it now?"


    Nyx''s grip on her retrieved weapon tightened.


    Krux''s brows furrowed.


    Even the silver-haired woman hesitated for a fraction of a second.


    But it was Velmorian''s low chuckle that truly caught Riven''s attention.


    The previous king of shadows leaned forward on his throne, his violet eyes gleaming with something unreadable. "You have strength," he admitted. "But strength alone is not enough."


    His presence pressed down on the chamber like a living force, thick with the weight of something ancient.


    "You have their attention," he murmured. "But will you earn their loyalty?"


    Riven''s eyes narrowed.


    That was it.


    This trial wasn''t about proving he was strong - It was about proving he was worthy.


    Worthy of their loyalty.


    Worthy of the throne.


    A slow grin spread across his face. "Well then," he said, cracking his knuckles. "Let''s get started."


    His mana surged.


    Dark energy crackled in the air as Riven steadied himself. He exhaled, forcing himself to focus - not on the pain, not on the overwhelming presence of his opponents, but on the fight itself.


    The five generals were watching him now, their gazes sharp, assessing. They moved like predators, circling him in slow, calculated motions, waiting for an opening. Nyx and Krux were at the forefront, their weapons gleaming with the eerie glow of shadowed mana. The silver-haired woman with twin daggers shifted lightly on her feet, her stance fluid, deadly. The brute with the greatsword stood like an immovable wall, his molten-red eyes unblinking. The final general, a slender figure cloaked in flowing midnight robes, simply stood at the edge of the battlefield, watching.


    Riven took this moment to summon three fireballs. Heat pulsed through the chamber as Riven''s fireballs flared to life, their intensity warping the air. The flickering glow cast jagged shadows along the obsidian floor, illuminating the five generals who had momentarily halted their attack.


    He had their attention.


    The fire orbs spun lazily around him, each one charged with raw, volatile energy. This wasn''t just about brute force anymore - he had to make them submit to him.


    Riven flicked his wrist, sending one of the fireballs streaking toward the silver-haired woman. She dodged effortlessly, her form twisting like liquid shadow, but he wasn''t aiming for her.


    He was testing their reactions.


    The second fireball shot toward Krux, forcing him to brace his gauntlets in front of his face. The flames struck, splintering into molten embers as Krux dug his heels into the ground, absorbing the impact.


    Again, Riven noted their movements.


    Fast. Efficient. They were warriors who had spent lifetimes perfecting their techniques¡­ but now, they were only reacting.


    Not attacking.


    They were waiting for something.


    For him.


    Riven''s grin widened.


    If they needed a reason to serve him - then he would give them one.


    Riven''s gaze snapped up to Velmorian, still seated upon his throne, untouched by the chaos unfolding around him. The former King of Shadows remained motionless, his piercing violet eyes gleaming with something unreadable - assessing, waiting.


    And that was the problem.


    The generals weren''t submitting to Riven because their king still sat before them.


    He needed to change that.


    With a sharp breath, Riven summoned a spiral of fireballs, the scorching heat warping the air around him. Flames roared to life, casting wild shadows along the temple walls. The generals instinctively braced for impact, momentarily shifting into defensive stances.


    That was all he needed.


    A distraction.


    In that split second, while they were focused on the blinding heat, Riven moved.


    He launched himself forward, his body a blur of shadows and flame, cutting through the battlefield like a blade aimed directly at the throne.


    The moment Riven surged forward, the weight of the trial shifted.


    The five generals reacted instantly, their instincts honed through centuries of battle. But they weren''t his focus¡ªnot anymore. Their loyalty was bound to Velmorian, their oaths sworn to a king who no longer ruled. If he wanted them to submit, he had to make them. S~ea??h the NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Not through strength alone.


    But through conquest.


    Velmorian''s presence loomed at the heart of the temple, an unshakable force of shadow and power. His violet eyes tracked Riven''s movement, still unreadable, still waiting.


    Riven wasn''t going to give him time to decide his fate.


    He was taking it.


    His fireballs spiraled outward, erupting in brilliant bursts of heat that forced the generals to recoil, shielding their eyes. The air warped, heat waves distorting their vision for a fraction of a second.


    That was all Riven needed.


    He closed the distance between himself and the throne in a single bound, shadows coiling around his arms like hungry tendrils. The weight of Velmorian''s gaze bore down on him, heavy, suffocating.


    But he didn''t hesitate.


    He struck.


    His shadow-cloaked fist rocketed toward the seated king, a blow meant to shatter stone, to drive through whatever illusion of power remained.


    And then-


    Darkness.


    Velmorian didn''t move. He didn''t even blink.


    Yet, in an instant, Riven''s attack was swallowed whole.


    Reality warped.


    Like a ripple through existence, the space between them twisted unnaturally. Riven''s fist met not flesh, not resistance - only the cold, unrelenting embrace of the void. His momentum collapsed inward, swallowed whole by a vortex of pure, suffocating shadow.


    The temple fractured.


    The walls of the throne room wavered, dissolving into an endless abyss. The pillars that once held the chamber upright stretched, twisted, then faded into nothingness. The world itself was unraveling around him, pulled into a realm of absolute darkness.


    Riven''s breath hitched.


    The cloaked General had finally revealed his hand.


    A patient strategist, he had waited, watching, calculating the perfect moment to strike. Now, standing at the far edge of the dissolving battlefield, his shrouded form remained eerily still, save for the slow, deliberate motion of his hands.


    A massive dark-blue magic circle pulsed in front of him, glowing with sinister intent.


    Riven''s smirk returned.


    "You''re using shadows against me?" His voice carried amusement, undercut by something sharper - something almost insulted.


    The General hesitated, if only for a fraction of a second.


    Riven exhaled, reaching deep within his core, into the thrumming mana heart. He didn''t a special skill for this.


    All he needed was a single command.


    Devour.


    The abyss obeyed.


    The vortex surged outward, a consuming force that swept across the battlefield, swallowing every last tendril of shadow magic the General had conjured. The magic circle shattered. The spell collapsed.


    The General staggered back, the dark hood of his cloak billowing from the sheer force of the energy being stripped from his control.


    Riven stepped forward.


    "I. Am. The. King."


    Each word reverberated through the void, an undeniable decree that echoed across the endless black. The weight of his authority settled over the battlefield like an unbreakable chain.


    Velmorian had not moved.


    The former King of Shadows remained seated upon his throne, watching¡ªwaiting. His violet eyes, unreadable as ever, gleamed faintly in the dying light.


    The abyss coiled around Riven, a swirling tempest of power, bending reality itself to his will. His dark-blue eyes, glowing with the depths of his mana, locked onto Velmorian.


    This was the moment.


    This was his moment.


    He raised a hand.


    Velmorian''s expression didn''t change as Riven''s fingers pressed against his face, sparks of fire crackling between them.


    The shadows trembled.


    The temple groaned.


    Velmorian''s mouth curved, just slightly, as though he found something amusing.


    Riven didn''t care.


    "Now, you die."


    The fireball detonated at point-blank range.


    Flames exploded outward, consuming everything in its path.


    And then, the world shattered.


    [[ Congratulations! ]]


    [[ Mana Heart Upgrade Successful! ]]


    [[ Mana Heart: Abyss Mana Heart (+2 Circle) ]]

 Chapter 40 - 40: Headmaster

    The moment Riven''s consciousness snapped back into reality, his body jerked as if he''d been plunged into cold water. The weight of the trial still clung to him¡ªshadows coiling in his veins, the distant echoes of Velmorian''s throne room lingering at the edges of his mind. His breath came slow and steady, but his fingers twitched with residual energy, as if his body still expected another fight.


    Instinctively, he reached inward and relief flooded through him.


    There¡ªat the core of his being¡ªhis mana heart pulsed stronger than before, now encircled by two glowing rings of energy, crossing in an unmistakable X.


    A slow grin tugged at his lips.


    He did it.


    He flexed his fingers, watching as shadows crackled at his fingertips, responding faster, sharper than before. The raw potency of his Second Circle was undeniable. His mana reserves had deepened, expanded into something far greater.


    His connection to the abyss had evolved.


    A faint sound made him shift his gaze.


    Nyx and Krux still stood on guard, their postures rigid with discipline. Yet, as he sat up, Nyx''s keen eyes flickered with the faintest trace of curiosity, while Krux clenched his fist, his jaw tightening as if barely restraining his excitement.


    "My king," Nyx spoke first, her voice smooth, unreadable. "How do you feel?"


    Riven stretched as he stood, the tension melting from his limbs. The exhaustion from before? Gone. The ache in his mana channels? Distant. His entire body thrummed with a power that hadn''t been there before.


    He exhaled slowly. "Stronger."


    Krux exhaled sharply before dropping to one knee, his fist striking his chest in a warrior''s salute. "My liege, congratulations on reaching your second circle!" His golden eyes blazed with something akin to reverence.


    "Congratulations." Nyx inclined her head, mirroring the salute with a hand pressed firmly over her heart.


    Riven chuckled. "This is still only the beginning."


    He rose to his feet, stretching out his arms, and felt nothing but raw, boundless mana flowing seamlessly through him. He had pushed himself past the limits of his First Circle and had conquered the trial the system had set before him.


    [[ Alert: Two individuals approaching your room. ]]


    Riven''s movements stilled. Across the room, Nyx''s fingers curled tighter around her sword hilt. Without hesitation, she vanished into the shadows, her form flickering out of sight before reappearing at the threshold of the training room. Her sharp gaze locked onto the front door.


    ''Two mages,'' she relayed to Riven through their mental link, her expression unreadable. ''I don''t sense any hostility, but they''re not here for a friendly visit.''


    A measured knock broke the silence¡ªthree steady raps against the wooden door.


    Riven exhaled slowly.


    "Riven Drakar, you have been summoned by the Headmaster," a deep voice announced from the other side.


    ''Let''s just kill them,'' Krux suggested, his tone brimming with indignation as he cracked his knuckles. ''How dare they disturb my king''s moment of victory?!''


    Riven rolled his eyes.


    ''Hide.''


    Without protest, both Nyx and Krux sank into the abyss of his shadow, disappearing from sight.


    Riven ran a hand through his hair, deliberately tousling it to appear disheveled. He loosened the top three buttons of his shirt before making his way to the door. With a calculated yawn, he blinked lazily, feigning the grogginess of someone who had just been roused from sleep.


    He pulled the door open.


    "What''s going on?" he muttered, squinting against the dim sconces lining the hallway.


    Two figures stood before him¡ªone male, one female¡ªboth clad in identical flowing gray robes. A black blindfold obscured their eyes, the same kind he had seen on Sana during his third trial.


    "Riven Drakar, you have been summoned by the Headmaster," the male Acolyte repeated in the same even tone. "Please follow us."


    Riven''s jaw tensed slightly.


    So, it was finally happening.


    They were ready to tighten the leash.


    He forced a casual smile. "Alright," he said easily, stepping into the hallway and pulling the door shut behind him. "Lead the way."


    The Acolytes turned on their heels without another word, their movements precise and synchronized. Riven followed, hands in his pockets, his expression a mask of mild curiosity. But inside, his thoughts churned.


    The timing was too perfect.


    His Second Circle had just formed. His power had surged to an entirely new level¡ªand now, the Headmaster was summoning him?


    Coincidence? Not a chance.


    Riven had planned to keep his advancement hidden, to avoid drawing unnecessary attention. But he had underestimated the forces at play. There were greater powers within the academy, ones that had no doubt sensed the exact moment his mana heart evolved. Keeping it a secret had never been an option.


    They advanced higher in the academy, the air growing thicker with mana the more levels they ascended.


    The scenery changed drastically as they made their way higher and higher, some floors only with a few doorways, other floors full on gardens with wild man dense flowers and herbs. One floor was even seemed to exist in a space between worlds. A shimmering bridge of dark stone arched over an expanse of nothingness, the sky above a swirling canvas of deep blues and purples. The air hummed with energy, a constant thrum of mana so thick it made his skin prickle.


    Riven kept his expression unreadable, but internally, he was assessing every detail. The higher they climbed, the clearer it became¡ªthis wasn''t just about a meeting with the Headmaster. This was a test.


    The two Acolytes leading him didn''t speak, their blindfolded faces remaining expressionless. He could feel their mana signatures¡ªcalm, controlled, yet undeniably powerful. They weren''t mere errand runners.


    They were here to ensure his compliance.


    Interesting. sea??h th§× N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Riven''s gaze sharpened as they approached the towering doors¡ªmonolithic and impossibly intricate. They weren''t crafted from wood or stone but something far more valuable.


    Mana cores.


    Embedded deep within the structure, countless cores pulsed with a rhythmic glow, their energy interwoven into a seamless lattice of power. Veins of runes ran along the surface, shifting and shimmering as they reacted to the Acolytes'' presence.


    For the first time since entering the upper levels, genuine intrigue flickered in Riven''s eyes.


    Just how many mana cores had it taken to construct this?


    Without a word, the robed figures raised their hands in unison, pressing their palms against the doors.


    A deep rumbling filled the air.


    The air trembled with power before the doors slid open, revealing the chamber beyond.


    Riven stepped inside.


    The room was vast, yet eerily quiet. Black marble stretched beneath his feet, its polished surface reflecting the glow of hovering mana crystals embedded into the high, arched ceiling. The walls bore no decoration¡ªjust pure white marble, smooth and unbroken.


    At the far end, a single figure sat behind an expansive desk of dark wood.


    The Headmaster.


    Riven had never met him before. Few students ever did. The man''s presence was subtle, restrained, yet the sheer weight of his mana made the air feel heavier. He was dressed in formal robes of deep indigo, his silver hair falling loosely over sharp, angular features. His eyes¡ªan unnatural silver¡ªmet Riven''s gaze with an unreadable expression.


    The doors sealed shut behind him.


    For a long moment, silence stretched between them.


    Then, the Headmaster spoke.


    "Please, have a seat." The Headmaster gestured with a flick of his fingers, and a chair materialized before the desk in a quiet shimmer of mana.


    Riven lowered himself onto it, his gaze steady as he met the Headmaster''s unwavering stare.


    "You may leave us," the Headmaster instructed, his tone leaving no room for argument.


    The two Acolytes bowed in silent obedience before turning and exiting the room, the doors closing behind them with a soft thrum of energy.


    The silence in the chamber was thick with unspoken intent. Riven sat comfortably, his posture deceptively relaxed as he studied the Headmaster. The man radiated authority, not through overwhelming presence, but through the sheer weight of his control. Every movement, every breath, was measured¡ªprecise.


    The Headmaster leaned back slightly, fingers steepling together as he regarded Riven with an expression that betrayed neither approval nor disapproval.


    "You''ve progressed faster than anyone expected," the Headmaster finally said, his voice even, unhurried. "The youngest mage in over a century to reach the Second Circle."


    Riven didn''t react beyond a slight tilt of his head. "I suppose that''s impressive," he mused. "If you care about records."


    The Headmaster''s lips twitched, as if amused by his indifference. "Records are nothing more than markers of progress. What matters is what comes next."


    Riven said nothing. He wasn''t going to play into whatever game the Headmaster was setting up.


    The older man studied him for a moment longer before shifting his hand slightly. A second chair materialized beside Riven''s, though this one remained empty for only a moment.


    The air shimmered.


    Then, she appeared.


    A woman, tall and regal, stepped forward as if emerging from the shadows themselves. Her long, dark hair cascaded down her back in a silky curtain, contrasting sharply with the deep violet of her eyes¡ªeyes that gleamed with something far more calculating than mere curiosity.


    Archmage Elara.


    Riven''s expression remained neutral, but internally, his mind sharpened.


    So, they weren''t wasting time.


    Elara''s gaze flickered over him, assessing. "Riven Drakar," she said smoothly, her voice as rich and commanding as he remembered. "It''s nice to finally meet the youngest son of the Drakar family."


    Riven''s lips curled slightly, amusement flickering in his eyes. She had no idea they had already crossed paths¡ªthough, in her case, it had been nothing more than a conversation she hadn''t realized he was listening to. A conversation about his future.


    The Headmaster''s silver eyes remained steady, his presence an unshakable force as he continued, "The first-year division only caters to those beneath the Second Circle. Now that you''ve surpassed that threshold, you will be moved to the second-year curriculum."


    Riven leaned back slightly in his chair, his expression unreadable. "So you''re saying I''m too strong for the first years now."


    "That is the reality of your advancement," the Headmaster confirmed. "Keeping you there would only hinder your growth."


    It wasn''t a choice¡ªit was an order. Riven had known this was coming the moment his mana heart expanded. The academy had rules, but exceptions were always made when power was involved.


    His gaze flicked toward Elara, whose violet eyes watched him with a glint of something deeper. She wasn''t just here to oversee his transition into the second-year division.


    She was here for him.


    The Headmaster continued, "As such, Archmage Elara will be assuming the role of your instructor. She specializes in advanced mana refinement and high-level spellcraft¡ªareas that will ensure you reach your full potential."


    Riven''s smirk barely concealed his thoughts. Potential? No, this wasn''t about nurturing his growth. It was about control.


    Elara''s voice was smooth, measured. "Your progress is unprecedented. The youngest mage in over a hundred years to reach the Second Circle." She tilted her head slightly. "It would be a shame to waste such talent."


    Riven tapped his fingers idly against the armrest. "You make it sound like you''re doing me a favor."


    Elara''s smile was slight, but unwavering. "Perhaps I am."


    They were testing him, prodding at his ambitions, trying to gauge how much influence they could have. Riven wouldn''t give them the satisfaction of knowing where his mind was.


    He exhaled, his posture relaxed. "Fine. I''ll transition into the second year."


    Elara''s eyes gleamed. "I expected no less."


    The Headmaster inclined his head slightly. "You''ll receive your new schedule in the morning. For now, return to your chambers and prepare. Your true training begins tomorrow."


    Riven rose smoothly to his feet. "Then I''ll take my leave."


    As he turned, Elara''s voice followed him.


    "One more thing," she said lightly.


    Riven glanced back, meeting her gaze.


    "Do try not to disappoint me," she mused.


    Riven chuckled under his breath as he strode away.


    Oh, he definitely won''t disappoint.

 Chapter 41 - 41: Second Year

    As Riven stepped out of the Headmaster''s office, the same two Acolytes awaited him, standing motionless beside the now-active teleportation gate that had appeared beside the office doors.


    Amusement flickered in his eyes as he let out a quiet chuckle.


    So, making him walk all the way up here had been intentional after all.


    Without hesitation, he strode into the gate, and in an instant, the towering halls of the upper academy vanished. When the light faded, he found himself standing in the academy''s main entrance hall once more.


    Other students cast glances his way, murmuring in hushed voices as he passed.


    The academy buzzed with early morning activity¡ªstudents filtering in and out, preparing for the start of a new day. Riven exhaled, weaving through the crowd as he made his way back to his quarters to freshen up.


    "Riven Drakar?"


    The call stopped him mid-step. He turned to find a young male staff member standing behind the desk near the first-year dormitories, his expression a mixture of disbelief and curiosity.


    "Yes?" Riven arched a brow.


    "We just received word¡ªyou''ve been promoted to the second year." The staff member hesitated as if double-checking the information, then continued, "You''ve been assigned a new room in the second-year dormitories on level twenty. There''s a teleportation gate at the end of that hallway." He gestured toward a corridor Riven had yet to explore.


    Riven paused, momentarily taken aback.


    That was fast.


    Realizing he had little to pack from his first-year dorm, Riven decided to locate his new accommodations.


    Stepping through the teleportation gate, he was immediately struck by the shift in atmosphere. The mana here was denser, saturating the air with an almost tangible weight. The hallways were broader, the decor far more elaborate than the stark simplicity of the lower floors.


    As he took in his surroundings, a girl with short brown hair and dark eyes approached him, her gaze flicking over his white first-year robes with a slight frown.


    "Excuse me," she said hesitantly. "This is the second-year residence." She glanced back toward the lower levels. "The first-year dorms are below."


    Riven offered a fake, polite smile. "Thank you, but I''ve just been promoted to the second year."


    Her expression shifted, eyes widening slightly. "Oh¡­ but aren''t you the youngest son¡­" She trailed off, shaking her head before motioning to a set of desks further down the hallway. "Never mind. You''ll need to report to the office to receive your room assignment and new uniform."


    With a nod of gratitude, Riven continued toward the administrative desk. The hallway buzzed with hushed whispers, second-year students throwing curious glances his way.


    "Isn''t that Riven Drakar?" someone murmured.


    "Why is he here? He''s a first-year, isn''t he?"


    "I wonder if Ember and Cole know their little brother is here."


    Riven exhaled, pushing aside the attention as he approached the desk. A middle-aged staff member, barely looking up from his stack of files, greeted him with the enthusiasm of a man who had long since stopped caring.


    "How can I help?" the man muttered, flipping through documents without meeting Riven''s gaze.


    "I''ve been transferred to the second-year class," Riven explained. "I was told to come here for my room assignment and new robes."


    "Name?" the man asked, his tone flat.


    "Riven Drakar."


    At that, the staff member hesitated ever so slightly before scribbling something down. Without another word, he disappeared into the back, returning moments later with two sets of dark robes and a small crystal talisman attached to a string.


    "The second-year system is vastly different from the first," he explained as he handed over the items. "This talisman records your progress. It grants access to the upper floors of the library and tracks your merit points. Elders award merits based on achievements, which can then be exchanged for potions, training resources, or access to mana-dense islands."


    Riven''s brow lifted slightly as he examined the talisman.


    So, there were real benefits to advancing. That made him wonder¡ªwhat privileges did the third years have?


    "Your room is at the end of this hallway, number 238," the man added with a dismissive wave of his hand.


    Taking the hint, Riven turned and strode down the hall. He stopped at the very last door, pushing it open to reveal his new quarters.


    His expression darkened slightly.


    Though more furnished than his previous room, it was far smaller than he expected. A single chamber with an adjoining bathroom¡ªfunctional, but lacking.


    Most importantly, there was no training room.


    "Tsk." Riven dropped onto the bed, irritation flickering in his mind.


    There had to be better rooms than this.


    And he intended to find out how to get one.


    ¡ªx¡ª


    Riven secured his new robes, the dark fabric light and breathable compared to his previous ones. He fastened the circular talisman to his belt, its weight barely noticeable¡ªbut its significance clear.


    [[ WARNING ]]


    [[ Someone is approaching your room ]]


    His brows furrowed as his gaze snapped toward the door. A moment later, three soft knocks echoed through the space.


    Shadows curled at his fingertips, barely visible behind his back, ready to strike if needed.


    He pulled the door open, and the first thing he saw was a cascade of fiery red curls.


    "Riven!" Ember grinned up at him, her ruby eyes gleaming with excitement. "So the rumors are true! You really have advanced to the second year, haven''t you?"


    "Ember." Riven forced a polite smile, letting the lingering shadows dissipate from his hands. "Yes, it all happened rather suddenly."


    "I figured. I''ve actually been trying to find you these past few days." Her enthusiasm dimmed slightly, a hint of unease creeping into her expression. "Can we take a walk? I need to talk to you."


    Riven hesitated but then nodded. This could be an opportunity to gather valuable information about the second year.


    They passed through the teleportation gate, emerging outside the academy grounds. A narrow river ran parallel to their path, the late summer sun casting golden reflections across its surface. A few students lingered nearby, too preoccupied with their own tasks to pay much attention to the siblings.


    "So," Riven finally said, "what''s wrong?"


    Ember exhaled, crossing her arms. "Cole returned home to recover after the fight you two had."


    Riven''s steps slowed, but he said nothing.


    "Mother was furious," Ember continued. "She demanded you be brought back and disciplined immediately. She wanted Father to strip you of the family name and have the academy expel you."


    His jaw tightened. Even his shadows trembled in response.


    So, Cole had gone running back to his mother like a wounded pup.


    Pathetic.


    "But," Ember added, her voice softening, "Father is hesitating. He''s been receiving reports about your progress at the academy." She glanced up at him, a small, almost proud smile tugging at her lips. "Now that you''ve reached the second year, he might just¡­ let this go."


    Riven scoffed, his tone bitter. "Of course. He only acknowledges those who prove useful."


    Ember flinched at his words, but after a brief pause, she sighed. "You''re not wrong. There''s no room for failure in House Drakar."


    Silence stretched between them, the sound of rushing water filling the space.


    "You''ll probably still be summoned home," she warned. "But as long as you keep advancing, there won''t be a punishment."


    "Thanks for the warning," Riven muttered.


    They walked in silence for a while before he finally asked, "So¡­ tell me about the second year. It''s still a bit unfamiliar."


    Ember''s demeanor brightened, the tension lifting. "Oh! Of course! It''s better if I show you."


    Before he could react, she grabbed his wrist and dragged him back through the academy. Riven barely resisted the urge to wrench himself free, swallowing down his irritation.


    They entered a vast chamber at the academy''s center, and Riven''s eyes widened.


    Gateways lined the walls¡ªsome open and unguarded, others closely watched by academy staff or knights. The room thrummed with energy, the sheer density of mana palpable.


    "This is the Navigation Hall," Ember explained. "Each gateway leads to different locations across the continent, as well as the various islands surrounding the academy."


    Riven''s eyes flickered with intrigue.


    This was far more than what the first years had access to.


    Ember pulled him toward one of the larger gateways, a warm breeze brushing against his skin from what lay beyond. "This is the Second-Year Island. You can only enter if you''re carrying your talisman."


    The moment they stepped through, Riven was stunned.


    They emerged onto a bustling street, lined with shops and market stalls. Some were run by staff, but others¡ªsurprisingly¡ªwere manned by students. The air buzzed with commerce and conversation, the scent of alchemical ingredients, freshly forged weapons, and exotic foods mingling together.


    "This is the market district," Ember explained, leading him down the main path. "Everything here is run by the academy. The only accepted currency is mana cores and merit points. You can even rent a stall to sell your own goods¡ªpotions, weapons, anything."


    Riven was momentarily taken aback. The difference between the first and second years was staggering. It was as if the first year was nothing more than a test¡ªto weed out the weak. Only those who proved themselves worthy could glimpse the academy''s true potential.


    "And over here," Ember continued, "are the main training grounds."


    The path opened up into a massive arena. Several dueling stages stood in the center, surrounded by racks of training weapons and enchanted equipment. Groups of students were scattered throughout, their expressions sharp with focus.


    Riven''s gaze swept the crowd¡ªuntil his eyes landed on a familiar face.


    Kai.


    The second-year student he had humiliated before.


    Kai''s skin lost all color the moment he saw Riven. His eyes went wide, his breath catching.


    Riven smirked and gave him a small wave.


    Kai immediately spun on his heel and disappeared into the crowd.


    How rude.


    Ember didn''t seem to notice. She tugged him toward a towering black monolith near the training grounds. "This," she said with excitement, "is the most important part of the second year." sea??h th§× n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Riven stepped closer.


    Etched into the monolith''s surface was a list of names. Every few seconds, some of them flickered¡ªshifting up or down in rank.


    "This is the Record of Power," Ember explained. She gestured to the very bottom of the list. "Your name is last¡ªnumber 238¡ªbecause you just joined. You can challenge any second year and, if you win, you take their rank. The higher you climb, the better rewards you''ll get."


    Riven''s eyes traced the glowing names.


    "The top students gain access to restricted areas, rare resources, and more merits," Ember continued, her voice brimming with excitement. "And if you make it into the top ten, you get a personal house and a shop in the market district!"


    Her ruby eyes gleamed as she turned to him. "Isn''t that amazing?"


    Riven''s hands clenched.


    A slow, wicked grin spread across his face.


    This¡ªthis was how the academy was truly meant to be. A place where strength dictated status. Where he could rise¡ªcarve his name into history.


    And he was going to take it all.

 Chapter 42 - 42: The First Challenge

    Riven''s gaze lingered on the Record of Power, the shifting names glowing faintly against the black monolith. His own name, etched at the very bottom¡ªRiven Drakar, Rank 238¡ªfelt almost insulting.


    He exhaled slowly, suppressing the grin threatening to spread across his face. The system here was simple, brutal, and exactly to his liking.


    Strength dictated status.


    And that meant there was only one thing to do¡ªstart climbing.


    "Well," Ember said cheerfully, watching him closely. "Are you going to make your first move?"


    Riven let his fingers trace over his talisman, the polished crystal humming faintly. "Not yet." His voice was calm, thoughtful. "I need to understand my competition first."


    Ember arched an eyebrow. "Cautious, huh? I thought you''d want to crush someone immediately."


    Riven chuckled. "I will. But I prefer not to waste my time on nobodies."


    Ember snorted but didn''t argue. "Alright then, let me introduce you to how it works." She gestured to the training grounds. "Most challenges happen here. If you defeat someone, you take their rank. But there''s a catch¡ªyou can only challenge people within twenty ranks of you."


    Riven''s brow lifted slightly. "So I can''t just go for the number one spot immediately?"


    Ember shook her head. "Nope. You''ve got to climb your way up, one fight at a time."


    He nodded. That was fine. He had patience.


    His dark blue eyes flickered across the students training, sparring, pushing themselves to the limit. Most of them ignored him¡ªexcept for a few who continued to throw cautious glances in his direction.


    One student in particular caught his eye.


    A tall, broad-shouldered young man stood near the dueling platforms, surrounded by a small group of admirers. He had short, slicked-back blonde hair and a smirk that practically radiated arrogance. His uniform was immaculate, his posture relaxed, as if he had never known the taste of failure.


    And when his eyes met Riven''s, the smirk only deepened.


    Ember followed his gaze and winced. "Ah. You''re looking at Doran Halves."


    Riven tilted his head slightly. "Halves?"


    "Yeah. His family is minor nobility, but they''re powerful. He''s ranked 218, so he''s one of the closest people you can challenge right now."


    Perfect.


    As if sensing Riven''s interest, Doran pushed off the railing he had been leaning on and approached, his entourage trailing behind.


    "So, it''s true," Doran mused as he stopped a few paces away. "The embarrassment of the Drakar family made it to the second year." His golden eyes raked over Riven''s frame, lingering on his newly donned second-year robes. "Shame about your rank, though. I expected more from a Drakar."


    Riven''s smirk deepened as he gave a casual shrug. "Well, I did just enter the second year. That explains my rank." He tilted his head slightly, eyes glinting with amusement. "Though, I can''t help but notice¡ªyou seem very concerned about my standing for someone who hasn''t even broken into the top two hundred."


    Doran''s expression stiffened for a fraction of a second before he let out a low chuckle. "Confident, aren''t you?" He took a slow step forward, his presence exuding the kind of controlled aggression Riven had seen countless times before¡ªbullies who were used to being on top, unchallenged. "If you think you''re going to climb through the ranks easily, let me give you some advice."


    Riven raised an eyebrow.


    Doran''s smirk sharpened. "Know your place."


    A beat of silence stretched between them.


    Then Riven chuckled softly.


    "Tell you what," he said, tilting his head slightly. "Since you''re so concerned, how about I start my climb with you?"


    Doran''s smirk faltered for the first time.


    Around them, whispers erupted.


    "He''s challenging Doran already?"


    "Does he even know what he''s doing?"


    "Doran''s been a second year for over a year. He''s not some weakling."


    Doran narrowed his eyes, his fingers flexing at his sides. "You sure you want to do this, Drakar? You don''t even know what I specialize in."


    Riven''s smirk widened. "Does it matter?"


    Doran''s lips curled into a snarl, and without another word, he turned on his heel, walking toward one of the dueling platforms.


    "Fine," he called over his shoulder. "I''ll make this quick."


    Riven followed, the energy in the training grounds shifting as students began gathering around the platform. Even those in the middle of training stopped, sensing the anticipation in the air.


    A first-year-turned-second-year, ranked at the very bottom, was about to challenge a seasoned second-year.


    And if he lost?


    His name would remain at the bottom.


    Riven stepped onto the platform, rolling his shoulders. Across from him, Doran cracked his knuckles, his mana flaring subtly.


    A senior instructor stepped forward to officiate, his gaze flicking between them. "Riven Drakar, challenger, rank 238. Doran Halves, ranked 218. This is an official challenge. Are you both in agreement?"


    "Yes," Doran said confidently.


    Riven simply nodded.


    "Then, begin."


    The moment the words left the instructor''s mouth, Doran lunged.


    His mana surged¡ªwind-based, fast, controlled. He closed the distance between them in an instant, his fist aimed directly at Riven''s ribs.


    At the last second, Riven pivoted sharply, leaving Doran stumbling forward into empty space.


    Shadows stirred beneath Riven''s skin, writhing as if eager to lash out, but he forced them down. He couldn''t reveal that power yet.


    Not here. Not now.


    Instead, he let fire bloom in his palm.


    A small fireball flickered to life, hovering just above his fingertips.


    Doran scoffed, unimpressed. "You really think you''ll survive second year with a beginner''s spell like that?" A shimmering magic circle flared into existence in front of him, its intricate runes pulsing with energy. "Let me show you what real power looks like."


    With a flick of his wrist, several miniature tornadoes erupted from the circle, twisting violently as they tore across the arena. Wind roared, carrying the sharp sting of mana-infused gales that bit at Riven''s skin.


    Riven''s eyes narrowed slightly.


    Not bad. S§×arch* The N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Doran''s putting on a show again!" someone from the growing crowd called out.


    "Come on, new guy, at least make it entertaining!" another shouted.


    "As if he stands a chance!" someone scoffed.


    The amused glint in Riven''s eyes sharpened as he abruptly aimed his fireball downward, launching it into the arena floor.


    A controlled explosion sent him soaring into the air, his body twisting effortlessly over the approaching tornadoes.


    Another fireball flared to life at his fingertips.


    Doran''s smirk barely had time to widen before Riven hurled the fireball straight at him.


    Doran sighed, stepping aside with casual ease. "Didn''t I say¡ª"


    He never finished.


    The fireball curved mid-flight, slamming into his back in an explosion of heat and force.


    A stunned silence swept over the arena as Doran was thrown forward, barely catching himself before he hit the ground.


    Gasps rippled through the crowd.


    Doran pushed himself up, his expression a shade paler, his glare sharp with disbelief.


    Riven dusted off his sleeves, eyes gleaming as three new fireballs ignited around him, orbiting his form in lazy arcs.


    "Rudimentary?" he echoed, tilting his head with a smirk. "I think you''ll find my skills are anything but."


    The arena remained eerily silent for a moment before hushed murmurs filled the air.


    "Did he just¡ª?"


    "Doran got hit?"


    "That wasn''t a normal fireball¡­"


    Doran clenched his fists as he stood, wisps of smoke still curling off his back where the fireball had struck. He exhaled sharply, brushing the embers off his shoulder before rolling his neck. His previous smirk was gone, replaced by a hard, focused expression.


    "That was a neat trick," he admitted, voice tight with irritation. "But you think you''ve won just because you landed one lucky hit?"


    Riven chuckled, letting the fireballs circling him drift lazily around his body. "Oh no," he mused, his dark blue eyes gleaming with amusement. "I just wanted to see if you could dodge."


    Doran''s jaw tightened. "Tch."


    Without warning, his mana surged again, wind swirling violently around him. His hands moved through a practiced sequence, and another magic circle ignited at his palms, this time larger, more intricate.


    "Try dodging this," Doran growled.


    The wind howled as a cyclone erupted from the ground, swallowing the entire dueling platform in a vortex of mana-infused gales. The sheer force sent some spectators stumbling back, shielding their eyes from the debris being kicked up.


    Riven''s robes whipped violently around him, his hair tousled by the ferocity of the storm. But rather than looking concerned, his smirk only widened.


    Fast.


    Doran was faster than expected, his control over wind magic refined and aggressive.


    But predictable.


    Riven moved.


    In an instant, his body blurred¡ªa burst of flame propelling him sideways as he wove between the whirling tendrils of the cyclone. Another fireball flickered to life in his hand, but this time, he didn''t throw it.


    He absorbed it.


    Heat coiled around his fingers, his mana shifting¡ªtwisting.


    Then, a second later, he reappeared inside the cyclone.


    Doran''s eyes widened in shock as Riven materialized just inches away, flames licking at his fingertips.


    "Your spell has too many gaps," Riven remarked.


    And then he struck.


    A fist, coated in concentrated fire, slammed into Doran''s stomach. The impact sent him skidding backward across the platform, the force shattering his own cyclone apart. The gusts of wind dispersed instantly, leaving the arena dead silent once more.


    Doran doubled over, coughing as the air was knocked from his lungs.


    Riven straightened, adjusting the cuffs of his sleeves. "You rely too much on your affinity," he said conversationally, as if he hadn''t just sent Doran reeling. "Wind''s useful for movement, but if you can''t react fast enough, it''s just wasted mana."


    Doran lifted his head, eyes burning with frustration. His fingers twitched at his sides, but he hesitated.


    Riven noticed.


    He tilted his head. "Are you done already?"


    Doran''s jaw clenched. He wasn''t done¡ªhis pride wouldn''t allow it. But his body betrayed him. He was hesitating.


    He''d lost momentum.


    And worse¡ªhe knew it.


    "That''s enough!" the instructor suddenly called, stepping forward.


    Doran flinched slightly at the interruption. He looked like he wanted to argue, but the instructor''s stern gaze left no room for negotiation.


    "The match is decided. Riven Drakar is the victor."


    A wave of murmurs rippled through the crowd.


    "He actually won¡­"


    "Doran lost to a newcomer?"


    "The Drakar family''s youngest really is a monster."


    Riven simply smiled.


    The instructor turned to the monolith at the edge of the arena. A faint glow rippled across its surface as Riven''s name flickered upward¡ªhis rank shifting.


    Riven Drakar¡ªRank 218.


    Doran''s name, meanwhile, dropped.


    His loss was officially recorded.


    Doran''s face twisted in frustration, but he held his tongue, taking a slow, steady breath before pushing himself to his feet.


    Riven arched a brow. "Not going to whine about it?"


    Doran exhaled through his nose, glaring at him. "I''ll win it back," he said simply. "Enjoy your rank while it lasts."


    Riven chuckled. "I intend to."


    With that, Doran turned on his heel and walked off the stage, his entourage scrambling after him.


    Riven turned his gaze back to the monolith. His name sat comfortably at 218¡ªbut his mind was already set on climbing higher.


    A familiar presence stepped beside him. "You look pleased with yourself," Ember said, watching the rankings shift.


    Riven grinned. "That was fun."


    Ember snorted. "You just humiliated one of the loudest second-years on your first day. You''ve officially made enemies."


    "Good," Riven said simply. "It''ll make things more entertaining."


    Ember shook her head, amused. "Well, if you really plan on climbing, you should prepare. Second-years don''t take kindly to new challengers. Now that you''ve made a move, they''ll start paying attention to you."


    "I''m counting on it."


    Ember studied him for a moment before exhaling. "Alright. Then let''s get you up to speed with who you should look out for."


    She gestured for him to follow, and together, they left the dueling grounds.


    All around them, whispers followed.


    The new second-year had won his first challenge.


    And everyone knew¡ª


    This was only the beginning.

 Chapter 43 - 43: New Skills

    Ember led Riven through the bustling market district, weaving between the clusters of students and staff browsing the various stalls and shops. The sheer variety of goods available was overwhelming¡ªweapon shops displayed an arsenal of swords, staffs, and exotic weaponry Riven had never seen before, their enchanted edges gleaming under the light. Various potion stores lined the streets, shelves stacked to the ceiling with elixirs of every color, their labels boasting effects ranging from enhanced mana regeneration to temporary elemental resistance.


    Raw materials were also plentiful¡ªingredients for alchemy, blacksmithing, and enchantment were neatly arranged in glass cases, available to those with the right amount of merits or mana cores.


    And that was exactly what Riven lacked.


    He had wealth¡ªgold stored away thanks to the Count¡ªbut here, it was useless. The only currency that mattered in the second year was merits and mana cores, and he needed a lot of them.


    "Alright," Ember said after a while, stretching her arms. "That''s enough window shopping. Let''s head back."


    She guided him back through a teleportation gate, and within moments, they reappeared inside the academy. Instead of heading toward the dormitories, however, Ember turned sharply and led him through a set of corridors toward an imposing structure at the side of the campus.


    Riven recognized it immediately¡ªthe library.


    They approached a towering set of doors at the end of the hallway, guarded by two mages clad in deep-blue robes. Their gazes remained unreadable as Riven and Ember stepped forward.


    Without hesitation, Ember retrieved her talisman, flashing it for the guards to see. Riven followed suit, holding up his own. A faint shimmer passed over them as the sentries activated the barrier, confirming their authorization.


    Then, with a quiet hum of mana, the massive doors parted, granting them entry.


    The first time Riven had visited the library, he had been limited to the first floor, where general knowledge and theoretical studies were kept.


    But the second floor?


    This was different.


    The moment they ascended the stairs, Riven''s eyes widened.


    The space stretched high into the ceiling, with multiple floors spiraling upward like a tower. Unlike the rigid organization of the first level, the second-year archives were expansive and layered, creating an almost labyrinthine effect. Floating platforms hovered in midair, shifting to grant access to the upper tiers where restricted skills were stored.


    Rows of countless doors lined the inner walls, leading to private study training rooms. The air was thick with mana, the entire place buzzing with knowledge waiting to be claimed.


    Students moved between the shelves with purpose¡ªsome had their noses buried in thick tomes, others skimmed the bookshelves, their eyes scanning for the correct spell or technique. A few disappeared behind the enchanted doors, likely renting private spaces to train.


    "Wow," Riven murmured, his gaze sweeping across the sheer number of skill books stored here. "That''s¡­ a lot." S~ea??h the N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Ember grinned. "It''s said that this library holds a copy of every known spell and technique in existence."


    Riven exhaled, a slow smirk curling at his lips.


    This was exactly what he needed.


    While his shadows were his strongest asset, he still couldn''t use them openly at the academy¡ªat least, not yet. And while his fireballs were potent, they weren''t enough to push him to dominate the rankings.


    He needed more.


    More skills. More techniques. More power.


    His eyes gleamed as he stepped deeper into the library, already planning his next move.


    Riven moved through the towering shelves of the second-floor library, his eyes scanning the countless tomes stacked from floor to ceiling. Each book radiated mana, their covers etched with intricate runes¡ªevidence of their powerful contents.


    Fire magic had always been House Drakar''s legacy. It was in their blood, their bones, their very existence.


    "Are you looking for something specific?" Ember asked, walking beside him. Her fingers traced the spines of the books absentmindedly, her tone casual but curious.


    "Advanced fire spells," Riven muttered, stopping at a section labeled Elemental Mastery: Pyromancy. His fingers hovered over the tomes before pulling out one at random.


    [[ You have obtained a Set Skill Book!]]


    [[ Set Skill Book: Fireborne Ascendance ]]


    He flipped it open, scanning the contents.


    [[ Skill 1: Flame Spears ]] ¡­ too straightforward.


    [[ Skill 2: Ignition Burst ]]¡­ destructive but inefficient.


    [[ Skill 3: Lava Rend ]]¡­ not bad, but too stationary.


    [[ Skill 4: Meteor Drop ]] ¡­ interesting, but required too much casting time.


    "Too slow," he muttered, shoving the book back into place.


    Ember smirked. "Picky, aren''t you?"


    "I need something that fits me," Riven replied absently, already reaching for another book.


    [[ You have obtained a Set Skill Book! ]]


    [[ Skill Book: Wrathful Flame ]]


    [[ Skill 1: Scorching Chain ]] ¡­ a binding technique that wrapped the enemy in burning links.


    [[ Skill 2: Ember Cloak ]] ¡­ an armor spell that boosted speed and attack power.


    [[ Skill 3: Crimson Mirage ]] ¡­ a fire illusion technique meant to deceive opponents.


    [[ Skill 4: Infernal Burst ]] ¡­ an explosive, long-range attack fueled by condensed mana.


    Riven''s brows lifted slightly.


    Now these were more his style.


    He pulled the book fully from the shelf, his gaze flickering across the incantations.


    "Found something?" Ember peered over his shoulder, her curiosity evident as she leaned in.


    Riven tilted the book slightly, his fingers drumming lightly against its aged cover. "I think so." A sharp grin tugged at his lips before he tucked it under his arm.


    She nodded toward the far end of the room, where a desk was stationed with a staff member processing rentals. "You''ll need a training room to practice it. They''re available for rent if you have the merits or mana cores."


    Riven clicked his tongue. Right. That problem again.


    He was broke.


    Ember must have noticed his hesitation because she let out a small sigh, then smiled. "Consider it a gift," she said lightly. "For making it into the second year."


    His smile was bright and utterly fake as he turned towards her. "Thank you, sister." he said smoothly.


    A faint flush dusted Ember''s cheeks, and she quickly looked away, grabbing his wrist and dragging him toward the desk.


    As they approached, the staff member barely glanced up, flipping through a thick ledger. "Name?" he asked, bored.


    "Riven Drakar," Ember answered on his behalf.


    The staff member hummed and slid a plaque across the desk, placing his palm over it. The runes on its surface glowed faintly before text appeared.


    "This set skill book costs 40 merits, 25 common mana cores or 5 uncommon mana cores."


    Riven''s brows lifted slightly. He wasn''t entirely sure of the conversion rates between merits and mana cores, but he could already tell¡ªthis skill wasn''t cheap.


    "I''d also like to rent a training room for a week," Ember added. "I''ll pay in merits."


    The staff member''s expression didn''t change. "That''ll be 8 merits per day. Total comes to 96 merits for the week including the skill."


    Without hesitation, Ember lifted her talisman. The staff member retrieved a small, rune-engraved plaque, pressing it against the talisman''s surface.


    A low hum of mana filled the air, and the glow of Ember''s talisman pulsed faintly before dimming.


    "Thank you for your transaction," the staff member said, handing over a small enchanted stone and the skill book.


    Ember turned and placed both into Riven''s hands.


    Riven''s face ached from forcing the bright, grateful expression. "Thank you, sister," he said smoothly. "I won''t forget your kindness."


    She waved him off, giving a small, genuine smile. "It''s fine. I have to report to my Elder anyway. I''ll let you get started."


    With a final wave, she disappeared into the crowd of students.


    The moment she was gone, Riven let the smile drop from his face.


    He rubbed his aching face, glancing down at the skill book and the enchanted stone in his hand. A week-long private training room and a high-level skill book¡ªfor free.


    His smirk curled at the edges. This was exactly why playing along was worth it.


    Bleeding House Drakar dry before he tore them apart would make the final victory so much sweeter.


    Turning on his heel, he made his way toward his assigned training room.


    ¡ªx¡ª


    Riven strode down the long hallway of the library''s second floor, his grip tightening around the enchanted stone that served as his key. The corridors were quieter here, lined with numbered training rooms, their doors sealed with shimmering runes.


    A faint hum of mana pulsed through the walls, a constant reminder of the sheer density of magic that saturated this place. Even without activating his own mana, he could feel it¡ªthick, charged, alive. It coiled in the air, pressing against his skin like an unseen force, waiting to be harnessed.


    This place is built for growth.


    Riven''s smirk deepened as he reached his assigned room.


    He placed the enchanted stone against the runes engraved on the door''s surface. The markings flickered before a quiet click echoed, and the door slid open.


    Inside, the chamber was vast.


    Larger than he expected.


    A training ground, reinforced with dark obsidian walls etched with containment runes. The ceiling arched high above, embedded with floating mana crystals that pulsed softly, illuminating the room in a dim golden light.


    At the far end of the room, an artificial mana spring bubbled softly, releasing streams of energy into the air, replenishing the space with constant mana flow.


    Riven stepped forward, his hands tightening around the skill book. Perfect.


    This was exactly what he needed.


    A space free from prying eyes. A place to hone his magic, to sharpen his fire into something lethal.


    He placed the skill book on a small obsidian pedestal at the center of the room. The runes inscribed into the stand activated, allowing the book to hover slightly as pages flipped open on their own.


    Riven read through the skills more thoroughly.


    [[ You have obtained a Set Skill Book! ]]


    [[ Set Skill Book: Wrathful Flame ]]


    [[ The first skill: Scorching Chain.


    A binding spell that wove chains of fire around an enemy, restricting movement while searing their flesh. ]]


    [[ The second skill: Ember Cloak.


    A defensive enhancement¡ªfire-infused armor that increased speed, attack power, and resistance. ]]


    [[ The third skill: Crimson Mirage.


    An illusion technique¡ªcreating afterimages with bursts of heat distortion, making it nearly impossible for opponents to track real movements. ]]


    [[ The Fourth Skill: Infernal Burst.


    A long-distance, high-precision beam of concentrated mana-infused flame. By compressing fire mana into a single, razor-thin point, the caster unleashes a searing beam capable of piercing through defenses and incinerating targets with pinpoint accuracy. ]]


    [[ Do you wish to start learning these skills? ]]


    [[ Will take five days to learn ]]


    [[ Yes/No ]]


    His fingers curled, fire flickering between them as his mana stirred in response.


    Riven took a slow breath, letting the raw power of the room''s mana-rich air settle into his veins.


    Then, without hesitation, he selected ''yes''.

 Chapter 44 - 44: Created Space Training

    [[ Downloading Set Skill Book: Wrathful Flame ]]


    [[ 1%¡­ Estimated Time Remaining: 4 Days, 23 Hours, 59 Minutes ]]


    A faint hum of energy pulsed through the training room as Riven''s body slowly lifted off the ground, fiery threads of mana weaving between him and the hovering skill book. The glowing strands connected them like an intricate web, each thread pulsing with raw, untamed heat.


    Riven didn''t need to say a word.


    Nyx and Krux emerged soundlessly from his shadows, positioning themselves against the walls in silent vigilance. Their eyes flickered with awareness, scanning the room for any disturbances.


    [[ Suggested Feature Unlocked: Created Space Training ]]


    [[ A feature unlocked upon reaching the Second Circle. Users can expend mana to generate a personal training dimension, allowing for uninterrupted skill acquisition and practice. ]]


    Riven''s eyes skimmed over the new system notification, his mind already whirring through its implications.


    A separate training space? One where time, damage, and external interference could be controlled? That could prove invaluable.


    But before he could delve deeper, a sudden white-hot lance of pain seared through his skull.


    A low groan escaped him as his head snapped forward, his vision blurring. Information flooded into his mind in torrents, burning its way into his consciousness. The structure of the skill, the precise mana circulation paths, the flame''s composition¡ªall of it forcefully embedded itself into his very being.


    His breathing turned sharp, his fingers clenching into fists.


    ''System, activate Created Space Training.''


    The command barely left his thoughts before the world around him shattered into darkness.


    Except¡­ the darkness wasn''t empty.


    It was shifting. Changing.


    Riven felt himself disassemble¡ªor at least, that''s what it felt like. His body wasn''t bound by physicality anymore. Instead, he existed in an in-between state, like raw data being uploaded into something greater.


    Then, abruptly¡ªthe world reassembled itself.


    The darkness fractured into thousands of gleaming shards, revealing a vast expanse of shimmering space. The ground beneath his feet was smooth, reflective¡ªlike polished obsidian, yet it pulsed faintly with veins of molten mana. Above him, a sky of endless constellations stretched infinitely, swirling like a vast, digitalized nebula. The air was neither hot nor cold, weightless yet immersive.


    A soft hum vibrated through his very core. This was not reality¡ªbut a perfect simulation of it.


    A glowing notification flickered in front of him.


    [[ Created Space Training: Active ]]


    [[ This space functions independently from reality.


    ¡ª Time dilation enabled: 4:1 Ratio (4 hours inside = 1 hour outside)


    ¡ª Physical and mana exhaustion will not carry over upon exit.


    ¡ª Damage is simulated. Fatal injuries will result in forced expulsion.


    ¡ª Skill Progression: Accelerated. ]]


    Riven''s gaze flicked across the notification, taking in the details with growing satisfaction. A personal battlefield. One where he could push himself beyond his limits without real-world consequences.


    This¡­ this was perfect.


    Another prompt appeared.


    [[ Would you like to generate a training scenario? ]]


    [[ Manual Selection or System-Generated Combat? ]]


    He selected Manual Selection and the space around him flickered, shifting as new options appeared.


    [[ Summon Opponent


    ¡ª Recall a combatant from memory and generate a perfect replication of their fighting style, magic, and power. ]]


    [[ Summon Mana Beast


    ¡ª Generate a mana-formed creature of any known species for combat training. ]]


    [[ Arena Settings


    ¡ª Adjust terrain, gravity, and mana saturation to control combat difficulty. ]]


    Riven''s smirk deepened. This system was leagues beyond anything he had expected.


    Riven''s fingers twitched in anticipation.


    He tapped ''Summon Opponent.''


    A flicker of light and mana coalesced before him, scanning his memories.


    A selection of silhouettes appeared¡ªcombatants he had faced, studied, or simply observed.


    One, in particular, stood out.


    Doran Halves.


    The cocky second-year who wielded wind magic.


    Riven chuckled to himself. "I''ll start with you."


    [[ Generating Opponent: Doran Halves ]]


    [[ Combat Data Accuracy: 87%


    Simulated Mana and Physical Attributes: Complete. ]]


    A figure materialized before him¡ªa perfect replica of Doran, down to the arrogant smirk and relaxed stance.


    The simulation''s eyes locked onto Riven. "What''s wrong, Drakar? Scared already?"


    Riven rolled his eyes before stretching his arms. "It''s gonna feel good to beat you again, you arrogant prick."


    The simulated Doran moved first, wind mana coiling around his limbs as he lunged, distorting the air with sharp, slicing gusts.


    Fast. Efficient.


    But Riven didn''t move.


    Instead, his fingers twitched¡ªfire surged forth.


    [[ Skill Initiated: Scorching Chain ]]


    [[ Binding spell that weaves chains of fire around an enemy, restricting movement while searing their flesh. ]]


    Before the wind struck him, blazing chains erupted from the magic circle infront of his palms, snapping forward like serpents of fire.


    Doran''s body jerked mid-attack, the chains twisting around his limbs, locking him in place.


    A second later, the flames ignited, searing into his arms and legs.


    The simulation snarled, struggling¡ªbut the more he fought, the hotter the chains burned.


    Riven tilted his head, watching impassively. Too easy.


    He flicked his wrist, and the flames surged tighter, the scent of scorched flesh thick in the air.


    [[ Skill Initiated: Ember Cloak ]]


    [[ A defensive enhancement¡ªfire-infused armor that increases speed, attack power, and resistance. ]]


    Flames coiled around Riven''s body, layering his skin like molten armor.


    His muscles burned¡ªnot in pain, but in power. His body felt lighter, faster¡ªhis instincts sharpening.


    The simulation snapped its bindings, wind mana bursting outward in retaliation.


    But this time?


    Riven moved first.


    The world blurred as he shot forward, a streak of fire and speed.


    His fist connected with Doran''s gut.


    A simple strike¡ªmagnified by the Ember Cloak.


    Flames exploded on impact, sending the simulation hurtling backward.


    But Riven was already in motion again.


    [[ Skill Initiated: Crimson Mirage ]]


    [[ An illusion technique¡ªcreating afterimages with bursts of heat distortion, making it nearly impossible for opponents to track real movements. ]]


    The air warped.


    Heat waves shimmered around Riven''s form, creating dozens of flickering copies.


    Doran''s eyes darted between them, confused.


    He lashed out, wind blades slicing through an afterimage¡ªmissing entirely.


    Another Riven appeared behind him.


    Then beside him.


    Then another.


    Doran stumbled back, disoriented.


    And then¡ª


    The real Riven struck.


    A blazing fist to the ribs, sending the simulation crashing into the obsidian floor.


    "It''s over," Riven murmured.


    But one final skill remained.


    [[ Skill Initiated: Infernal Burst ]]


    [[ A long-distance, high-precision beam of concentrated mana-infused flame. ]]


    Riven stepped back.


    The air trembled.


    Mana coiled, compressed, refined¡ªa singular point of pure, searing heat forming at his fingertips.


    The temperature spiked.


    The obsidian battlefield cracked.


    The simulated Doran''s eyes widened in realization.


    Too late.


    Riven fired.


    A razor-thin beam of white-hot flame tore through the air¡ªpiercing the simulation clean through.


    The moment of impact¡ª


    Doran disintegrated into embers and digitalized fragments.


    The battlefield fell silent.


    Then¡ª


    [[ Training Complete: Phase One Success ]]


    [[ Skill Proficiency: +15% ]]


    [[ Time Remaining: 4 Days, 12 Hours, 21 Minutes ]]


    Riven exhaled, his entire body thrumming with heat, his mana pulsing like molten fire in his veins.


    Each spell fit him perfectly.


    Riven''s shadows shivered beneath his skin, a silent protest against his continued reliance on fire magic alone. They slithered and writhed, a restless hunger pulsing through them¡ªa demand to be used.


    He clenched his fists, suppressing the reaction. Not yet.


    It was still too early to reveal his shadows to the world.


    The kingdom was still on edge after the undead attacks, and the academy? They believed he had discarded his necromancy skills altogether. If they learned the truth¡ªthat he wielded shadows, that he had embraced the abyss¡ªthey wouldn''t hesitate.


    They would kill him.


    But his shadows¡­ they did not care for his caution.


    A thin tendril of blackness seeped from his arm, trembling as it slithered toward the flames still flickering in his palm.


    Riven stilled, watching.


    The shadow hesitated, recoiling slightly as if testing the heat¡ªbefore launching itself forward, straight into the fire.


    And then¡ª


    The impossible happened.


    The flame fought back, its orange glow flickering, twisting¡ªbut the darkness consumed it.


    The fire shrank, its brilliance fading, swallowed by the abyss curling around it.


    A new flicker crackled in his palm.


    Not orange. Not red. But black.


    Riven''s breath slowed as he stared at the black flames flickering in his palm.


    The once-vibrant orange fire had been devoured, twisted by the abyss, leaving behind a flame unlike any he had ever seen. It didn''t burn like normal fire¡ªit pulsed, almost alive, shifting like liquid darkness while exuding the unmistakable heat of a true blaze.


    His shadows shivered beneath his skin, no longer restless but¡­ satisfied.


    As if they had been waiting for this.


    His heart pounded against his ribs as the realization sank in.


    This wasn''t just fire.


    This wasn''t just shadow.


    It was both.


    [[ New Skill Variant Discovered: Abyssal Flame ]]


    [[ A fusion between fire and abyssal mana, forming a unique dark flame that consumes both physical and magical energy upon contact. Unlike standard fire, Abyssal Flame does not spread¡ªit devours. ]]


    Riven''s fingers curled, watching the black flames dance across his knuckles. Devours? What a fitting adaption.


    The fire flickered toward his wrist, licking at his skin but pain never came.


    The dark flame did not burn him ¡ª Instead, it sank into him, absorbed like a natural part of his existence.


    His mana channels pulsed. Abyssal Flame was not a new element¡ªit was an extension of him.


    A smirk twitched at the corner of his lips.


    He turned his gaze back toward the Created Space notifications, the glowing text still hovering before him.


    [[ Training Scenario Concluded. ]]


    [[ Skill Proficiency: Wrathful Flame +15% ]]


    [[ Modified Skill Acquired: Abyssal Flame (Unranked) ]]


    [[ Would you like to generate a new training scenario? ]]


    Riven exhaled, feeling the weight of his discoveries settle into his bones.


    He wasn''t done yet.


    He tapped the menu.


    [[ Generate New Scenario: Advanced Combat Simulation ]]


    The space shuddered.


    The obsidian floor beneath his feet cracked, shifting as the battlefield rearranged itself. In the distance, towering rock formations erupted from the ground, forming jagged cliffs and unstable ledges. The sky above dimmed, storm clouds rolling into existence, crackling with veins of blue-white lightning.


    A new notification appeared.


    [[ Select Opponent Type: ]]


    [[ Mana Beasts ]]


    [[ Humanoid Opponent ]]


    [[ Hybrid Combat Challenge ]]


    Riven''s eyes gleamed.


    The last option caught his interest. Hybrid Combat Challenge?


    He selected it.


    [[ Generating Hybrid Opponent¡­ ]]


    [[ Randomizing Enemy Traits¡­ ]]


    [[ Enemy Class: Tier 3 Mana Beast ]]


    [[ Enemy Type: Elemental Aberration (Wind-Fire Affinity) ]]


    [[ Enemy Rank: Epic ]]


    The air warped.


    A low, guttural roar echoed through the battlefield.


    A creature materialized.


    It stood nearly ten feet tall, its body shifting between flickering flames and howling winds, its form ever-changing. Molten veins pulsed beneath its semi-transparent skin, while twin curved horns jutted from its skull.


    Its eyes¡ªburning blue orbs¡ªlocked onto Riven.


    It radiated power.


    Pure, unstable, elemental power.


    [[ Simulation Lock: Complete. Combat Start. ]]


    The beast lunged. sea??h th§× novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Wind howled, and flames exploded outward in a spiraling inferno.


    Riven moved.


    Faster than before.


    His Ember Cloak ignited, wrapping his body in burning armor, his speed surging as he twisted around the beast''s first attack.


    A single swipe of its massive claw sent a razor-thin arc of wind mana slicing through the air.


    Riven ducked and retaliated instantly, flicking his wrist.


    Chains of Scorching Flame erupted from the ground, snapping toward the beast''s legs, searing through the turbulent winds surrounding its form.


    But the creature broke free before they could take full hold, its molten form shifting.


    Its body morphed, flames condensing into dozens of floating fire spears.


    They launched.


    Riven dashed sideways, his Crimson Mirage activating mid-motion, creating afterimages as the spears struck.


    Explosions rocked the battlefield.


    One of the spears grazed him and pain flared across his side, but he ignored it.


    He needed to finish this.


    Now.


    Riven''s hands rose, mana surging to his fingertips.


    Fire roared.


    But this time, it wasn''t ordinary fire.


    Abyssal Flame coiled around his arms, licking at his fingertips like a living entity. The beast hesitated, as if it recognized something unnatural.


    Riven''s smirk sharpened.


    "Let''s see how well you handle this."


    His mana coalesced, compacting into a razor-thin point at his fingertips.


    [[ Infernal Burst: Abyssal Variant Activated ]]


    A beam of pure Abyssal Fire erupted from his palm, cutting through the air like a blade.


    The creature screeched.


    The beam struck, devouring the flames within the beast''s body, unraveling its elemental core.


    It tried to retaliate¡ªwind mana surged around it in a last-ditch effort¡ªbut the black flames ate through it, burning not only its form but its very essence.


    Within seconds, the beast collapsed.


    Then¡ª


    It disintegrated.


    A final roar¡ªthen silence.


    Riven stood still, breath measured, the black flames around his fingers fading.


    Then, a notification appeared.


    [[ Training Scenario Complete. ]]


    [[ Skill Proficiency Increased. ]]


    [[ Infernal Burst (Abyssal Variant): Unlocked. ]]


    Riven exhaled, his entire body thrumming with the rush of battle.


    He flexed his fingers and the black fire crackled beneath¡ªhis fire.


    This was beyond what he had ever imagined.

 Chapter 45 - 45: Primordial Wilds

    Time passed within the Created Space, where exhaustion, pain, and limits held no dominion over Riven.


    The battles were endless.


    One after another, enemies were summoned¡ªfought¡ªdestroyed.


    The system threw everything at him. Mana beasts with towering frames and elemental cores that burned like dying stars. Human-like warriors wielding magic so refined it could rival an elder''s. Creatures birthed from nightmares, dripping in shadows and malice.


    But Riven never stopped.


    His movements sharpened with every clash, his spells refined in the crucible of relentless combat.


    His flames¡ªonce bright and untamed¡ªturned darker, deadlier.


    Scorching Chain burned colder, its fiery bindings no longer just searing flesh but devouring the mana of those caught in its grasp.


    Ember Cloak, once a simple enhancement, transformed into something more¡ªa living armor of black fire that no longer just protected but lashed out, a second skin of destruction.


    Crimson Mirage evolved into a perfect deception¡ªheat-flickering afterimages that didn''t just fool the eye but warped mana perception itself, making it impossible for enemies to distinguish the real from the false.


    Infernal Burst¡ªhis most destructive attack¡ªbecame something far beyond a mere beam of condensed fire.


    It was a tear in reality, a lance of pure abyss, burning not with heat alone but with the void''s hunger.


    It pierced. It consumed. It erased.


    Hours blurred into days.


    The battlefield shifted countless times¡ªicy tundras, molten wastelands, gravity-defying arenas¡ªbut the outcome was always the same.


    Riven stood victorious.


    His black flames coiled around his limbs like obedient specters.


    By the time the system''s final notification flickered before him, he barely needed to read it.


    [[ Training Complete ]]


    [[ Wrathful Flame Set ¨C Mastered ]]


    [[ Abyssal Flame ¨C Integrated ]]


    [[ All Fire Skills Have Adapted to Abyssal Variants ]]


    Riven stood in the silent void of his training space, abyssal flames flickering at his fingertips. Cuts and bruises littered his body, dried blood clinging to his skin¡ªa testament to the relentless battles he had fought. But he hardly felt it. Pain had become background noise.


    ''System, take me back.''


    The Created Space shuddered, cracks splintering across the artificial sky. Then, like glass shattering, it disintegrated around him, the void swallowing everything before light surged back into his vision.


    Reality returned.


    The familiar training room materialized before him, the faint hum of mana stabilizing in the air.


    Nyx was already at his side, silent as ever, steadying him as he lowered himself onto a chair that Krux had dragged over.


    "You''ve grown stronger," Nyx observed, her obsidian eyes scanning him with quiet approval.


    Riven smirked, stretching out his sore limbs. "You could say that."


    The training had done more than refine his skills¡ªit had accelerated them beyond what he thought possible. The system''s estimated five days had been cut down to just three, but inside that space? It had felt like more than that. Countless days of nothing but battle, fire, and shadows.


    "I feel like I''m already falling behind, my liege," Krux muttered, his golden eyes glinting with barely restrained impatience. "Though I am grateful to exist in your shadow, my hands burn to hunt¡ªto kill."


    Riven let out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. "Don''t worry. I have plans for you both¡­ I just need some time to put them in motion."


    Nyx and Krux exchanged a look before sinking soundlessly into his shadow once more.


    Riven exhaled before slipping the keystone into his pocket. The room was still his for a few more days, and he intended to make use of it. But for now¡ª


    It was time to move.


    He stepped out of the training hall and made his way toward the Second-Year Market District once more. This time, he wasn''t just browsing¡ªhe was scouting. He retraced his steps from the previous day, weaving through the crowds, taking in the shops and stalls with a sharper eye.


    Had he missed anything? Something worth his attention?


    His pace slowed as he approached the Monolith of Power.


    The towering slab of obsidian stood as an unwavering pillar in the training grounds, its surface glowing faintly with shifting names.


    Riven''s gaze swept over the rankings.


    Names flickered, shifting positions. Some rising. Some falling.


    And then¡ªone, in particular, caught his attention.


    Kai Seren ¨C Rank 210


    Riven almost laughed aloud. S~ea??h the nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Kai, the arrogant second-year who had picked a fight with him back in the first year, wasn''t even within the top 200.


    For all his bravado, all his boasting¡ªhe was mediocre at best.


    His eyes flicked further down, scanning the list.


    Cole Drakar ¨C Rank 201


    ¡­Cole?


    Riven''s smirk widened into something dangerously amused. So his dear older brother was just one rank shy of breaking into the top 200.


    The thought sent a ripple of amusement through him. Cole, the golden son, the favored heir of House Drakar, struggling just to claw his way up.


    "Are you heading to the mana beast islands?"


    The casual chatter of two second-year girls caught Riven''s attention as they strolled past the training grounds'' exit. Their conversation was light, effortless¡ªyet the words they spoke carried exactly the kind of information he was looking for.


    "Yeah! I''m heading to the Arctic Wastes," one of them replied, her voice filled with excitement. "I need Snow Fox blood for a potion."


    Riven''s lips curled into his most charming smile as he turned on his heel, stepping smoothly into their path.


    "Excuse me," he said, his voice soft, polite¡ªdisarming.


    Both girls stopped abruptly, their eyes widening as they took in his presence.


    "Sorry to interrupt," he continued smoothly, his expression one of mild curiosity. "I''m new to the second year and couldn''t help but overhear you both discussing the mana beast islands. I was wondering¡ªhow do you enter them?"


    For a moment, silence stretched between them. Then, realization dawned in the eyes of the girl on the left.


    "Y-you just need to pay at the gates in the Navigation Hall," she stammered slightly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.


    "But your first entrance is free!" the other girl, the one heading to the Arctic Wastes, chimed in with a bright smile. "Just let them scan your talisman, and they''ll let you through."


    "We''re about to head there now. Do you want to come with us?" the first girl offered, her voice more confident this time.


    A few students nearby slowed their steps, some openly staring, others whispering behind cupped hands.


    "Did she just invite him?" someone murmured.


    "Wasn''t that Serena Deveroux?" another whispered in disbelief. "Why is she talking to him?"


    "He spoke to them first!" a male student hissed angrily. "How shameless! Does he actually think he can talk to the second year''s top beauty?!"


    Riven sighed internally. I see how it is.


    Smiling, he shook his head. "Thank you for the invitation, but I have a few things to take care of first.


    "Maybe next time, then." Serena winked, before the two girls giggled and walked off.


    Riven turned on his heel, making his way toward the Navigation Hall. Maybe talking to them was a mistake. The attention it brought was annoying, but in the end, it didn''t matter.


    He had the information he needed.


    His eyes flicked over the walls lined with teleportation gates, scanning the engraved plaques beside them until a few caught his attention.


    Mana Beast Islands¡ªAuthorized Entry Only.


    A slow smirk crept onto his lips.


    Riven''s gaze swept over the towering Navigation Hall, its walls lined with teleportation gates, each leading to a different corner of the academy''s vast territories. Carved into the obsidian pillars beside each portal were detailed descriptions of their destinations.


    He took his time, scanning through them.


    ¡ª Arctic Wastes: A frozen land teeming with cold-resistant mana beasts, ideal for ice-attribute mages seeking rare materials.


    ¡ª Blazing Rift: A volatile volcanic region filled with fire-elemental creatures and rich in emberstone deposits.


    ¡ª Serpent Marshlands: A humid, labyrinthine swamp, home to venomous serpents and water-affinity beasts.


    ¡ª Stormfront Peaks: A mountainous battlefield where wind-elemental creatures reign supreme, lightning storms constantly raging above.


    There were at least twenty islands listed, each one catering to different elemental affinities and ranking levels.


    But one, in particular, stood out.


    ¡ª Primordial Wilds: The largest and most diverse of all the Mana Beast Islands. An unrestricted hunting ground where creatures of all affinities roam freely. Dangerous and unpredictable. Only the strong survive.


    Riven''s smirk deepened.


    He wasn''t interested in standing out¡ªnot yet. If he chose the Blazing Rift, people might assume he was just another Drakar specializing in fire magic.


    But the Primordial Wilds? It was the perfect choice. Big enough to blend in. Dangerous enough to let him test his limits.


    He strode forward, stopping before the large teleportation gate labeled Primordial Wilds. The runes inscribed on its surface pulsed faintly, reacting to his presence.


    A staff member stood beside it, a bored expression on his face. "First time entering?"


    Riven nodded, retrieving his talisman.


    The man barely glanced at him before pressing a crystal plaque against the talisman''s surface. A faint hum of mana resonated through the air.


    "First entry is free," the man muttered. "After that, you''ll need to pay with merits or mana cores. Just follow the guidelines¡ªdon''t stray too deep if you don''t want to die."


    "Noted."


    With that, Riven stepped through the portal.


    The shift in space was instant.


    One moment, he was surrounded by the smooth, polished architecture of the academy. The next¡ª


    A dense, ancient forest stretched out before him, its towering trees so massive they disappeared into the mist above. The air was thick with mana, far richer and wilder than anything he had felt at the academy. The ground beneath his boots pulsed with latent energy, the soil itself saturated with magic.


    Distant roars echoed through the jungle, the cries of beasts hunting, fighting, surviving.


    Riven took a slow breath. This place¡­ was alive.


    Around him, groups of students had already scattered¡ªsome moving in squads, others venturing alone. The Primordial Wilds wasn''t just a training ground; it was a free-for-all battlefield.


    Perfect.


    He flexed his fingers, letting a small flicker of abyssal flame coil around his fingertips before vanishing. His flames were different now, more refined, more¡­ complete.


    Riven''s gaze swept across the dense underbrush before he stepped deeper into the forest. The moment he was certain no one else was nearby, he let the shadows unravel from his form.


    Nyx and Krux emerged soundlessly, their presence seamlessly blending into the untamed wilderness around them.


    "This place¡­" Nyx murmured, her obsidian eyes widening slightly as she scanned the towering trees, the thick foliage concealing countless unseen predators. "There are plenty of mana beasts here¡ªbut something else lingers too."


    Krux, on the other hand, grinned as he inhaled deeply, his golden eyes gleaming with excitement. "Ah, what a marvelous place! I can already taste the bloodlust in the air¡ªso many beasts just waiting to be slaughtered."


    Riven ignored his enthusiasm and got straight to the point. "I need both of you to gather as many mana cores as possible¡ªbut don''t let yourselves be seen." His tone was sharp, leaving no room for argument. "If I''m going to dominate the second year, I need currency¡ªand a lot of it."


    Krux''s grin widened. "Yes, my liege!" He unsheathed his sword, the blade gleaming even in the dim forest light, before vanishing into the shadows, his presence dissipating into the wild like a predator on the prowl.


    Nyx lingered for a moment, her expression calm yet watchful. Then, with a flick of her wrist, a tendril of shadow slithered from her fingertips, curling around Riven''s chest before sinking into his skin like liquid night.


    "I''m leaving a part of my shadow with you," she said softly, her voice carrying the slightest hint of concern. "If you face danger, I can return immediately."


    Riven arched a brow. "Won''t that leave you weaker?"


    A smirk played on Nyx''s lips. "I could leave more than half of my shadow behind and still wipe out every beast in this forest," she said smugly.


    Riven rolled his eyes. "Then don''t get too cocky and make a mistake."


    Her smirk deepened before her form dissolved into the darkness, merging with the surrounding shadows as she vanished into the depths of the forest.


    Riven advanced deeper into the Primordial Wilds, his steps barely disturbing the dense undergrowth. The air here was thick¡ªsaturated with mana¡ªpulsing through the soil, the trees, even the very wind.


    Above him, the towering canopy loomed, ancient branches stretching toward the sky, their shadows weaving an intricate tapestry of darkness. The scent of damp earth and mana-infused foliage clung to the air, a reminder that this land belonged to the beasts.


    A distant roar split through the silence.


    Deep. Guttural. Predatory.


    A second followed, this one sharper, filled with malice, like jagged claws raking against stone.


    Riven''s smirk deepened.


    The hunt had begun.


    ¡ªx¡ª


    Minutes bled into hours as he hunted.


    Riven was efficient¡ªmethodical. He didn''t just charge at anything that moved. Instead, he stalked, watching from the shadows, analyzing his prey before making his move.


    The first was a Flameclaw Panther, a sleek, mana-infused beast with dark crimson fur that shimmered like burning embers. It prowled through the undergrowth, its molten claws cutting through the foliage effortlessly.


    It never even saw him coming.


    One precise Scorching Chain, now blackened with abyssal fire, snapped around its limbs, binding it mid-leap. The moment it struggled, the flames devoured its mana, weakening it instantly.


    A single Infernal Burst¡ªa razor-thin, abyssal beam¡ªended it in an instant.


    The mana core still pulsed with heat when he pulled it from the corpse.


    The second was a pack of Nightfang Wolves, their fur blending seamlessly with the darkness, their movements calculated, predatory.


    But Riven? He was faster.


    Crimson Mirage scattered his afterimages across the clearing, confusing the wolves. They lunged at shadows, their fangs snapping at nothing.


    By the time they realized their mistake, it was too late.


    Ember Cloak flared to life, his body vanishing into a blur of black fire. He carved through them, each strike engulfing their bodies in devouring flames.


    Only their mana cores and ashes remained.


    The third was a Titan Basilisk, its emerald scales nearly impenetrable, its venom potent enough to melt through steel.


    Riven grinned. A real challenge.


    The basilisk lunged, its massive tail swinging in an arc that could crush trees but Riven dodged, flipping over the strike with effortless agility.


    The beast opened its maw¡ªpoisoned breath spilling forth.


    Abyssal Flame roared to life.He didn''t dodge. He didn''t need to.


    Instead, he raised his palm. The black fire ate the poison, devouring it before it could reach him.


    The basilisk hesitated, its glowing yellow eyes narrowing in confusion.


    Riven moved.


    With a flick of his wrist, Scorching Chain coiled around its thick neck, the abyssal fire burning deep into its mana-infused scales. The creature screeched, writhing as its own energy was leeched away.


    It thrashed. Tried to break free.


    But Riven was relentless. A final Infernal Burst¡ªthis time infused entirely with abyssal energy¡ªpierced through the beast''s skull, ending it instantly.


    The thud of its massive corpse hitting the ground sent a shockwave through the clearing.


    Riven exhaled as he bent over the corpse. The mana core he extracted from its chest was massive, swirling with condensed energy.


    [[ Epic Mana Core Aquired ]]


    Perfect.


    Time Passed, but Riven did not stop.


    One kill after another, he refined his abilities, pushed his limits, forced his new abyssal flames to adapt to everything.


    By the time night was beginning to settle over the Primordial Wilds, Riven felt exhaustion gnawing at his bones.


    He stood in a clearing, surrounded by ruin. The remains of mana beasts, nothing but scorched earth and ashes.


    His black flames flickered along his fingers, curling like living entities, obedient. Controlled.


    [[ System Notification ]]


    [[ Hunting Report ]]


    [[ Total Mana Cores Acquired: 47 Common, 16 Uncommon, 3 Rare and 1 Epic ]]


    "Not enough." Riven exhaled, his breath curling in the cool night air. With a flick of his wrist, a fireball flared to life, lazily orbiting him, its warm glow casting flickering shadows against the twisted trees. The flames burned a familiar orange¡ªuntouched by his abyssal corruption.


    For now, that was a good thing.


    This ordinary fire served a purpose: a lure, a distraction, a feint. To any watching predator, it was nothing more than a simple light source, a beacon of careless warmth.


    But the true danger lay elsewhere.


    The moment the fireball flickered into existence, the forest stirred. Eyes¡ªmany eyes¡ªglowed in the underbrush, reflections of hunger and malice as the beasts slithered, stalked, and crept forward. The air grew thick with anticipation, the unmistakable tension of creatures circling their prey.


    Riven''s grin sharpened.


    At his fingertips, black flames coiled and twisted, silent and insidious, writhing like living things.


    This was going to be a long night.


    And he was going to enjoy every second of it.

 Chapter 46 - 46: Elixir of Purification

    The first rays of dawn cut through the dense canopy, spilling golden light across the ruined clearing. Smoke and embers drifted lazily in the air, curling from scorched earth and shattered remains.


    Riven stood at the center of it all. His breathing steady, his flames flickering, his body covered in dried blood¡ªnone of it his own.


    He stretched his fingers, feeling the lingering heat of Abyssal Flames still curled at his fingertips. The primal energy of the Wilds had pushed him, forced him to test the limits of his new power.


    And it had been glorious.


    A soft hum flickered in his mind as the system chimed.


    [[ System Notification ]]


    [[ Hunting Report


    ¡ª Total Mana Cores Acquired: 92 Common, 34 Uncommon, 23 Rare, 2 Epic ]]


    A substantial haul.


    More than enough to establish himself.


    Riven exhaled and hung his head back, relishing in the now quiet forest. He had pushed his free day pass to its absolute limit¡ªany longer and the academy''s tracking spells would flag him. He couldn''t afford unnecessary attention, not yet.


    It was time to leave.


    Riven turned, his abyssal flames flickering out as he made his way toward the designated exit beacon, where a shimmering teleportation gate awaited. The normally busy area was currently empty ¡ª not everyone was crazy like him and staying overnight.


    He sent out a silent call and two figures materialized from the shadows.


    Nyx and Krux.


    They emerged as if stepping out of nothingness, their forms seamlessly blending with the shifting light of dawn.


    "How was your hunt?" Nyx asked, her dark gaze sparkling from the adrenaline of her own hunt.


    Riven rolled his shoulders, letting the last remnants of tension bleed from his muscles. His body was sore, but the weight of mana cores in his storage made it more than worth it.


    "Productive," he murmured, tossing a mana core in the air before catching it. "And yours?"


    Nyx smirked whilst transferring their mana cores directly into Rivens inventory. "Krux and I were efficient," she said smoothly. "Though, I had to stop him from drawing too much attention."


    Krux huffed, flipping his sword over his shoulder. "Bah, what does it matter if a few fools spot us? They wouldn''t have lived to tell the tale."


    Riven''s gaze sharpened. "It''s not time yet to make hasty decisions that could cause the academy to become suspicious ¡ª Hold back until I say otherwise."


    Krux let out a low chuckle but said nothing more.


    Riven shifted his attention back to the teleportation beacon. Time was running out¡ªhis free day pass was nearly spent, and he had no intention of paying unnecessary fees.


    "Hide for now," he said.


    They slipped back in Rivens shadows just as he stepped into the shimmering gateway, and in an instant, the dense wilds vanished.


    The world shifted.


    Riven stepped out of the teleportation gate, back into the polished halls of the Navigation Hall. The stark contrast between the dense, mana-rich wilderness of the Primordial Wilds and the academy''s structured order was jarring. The air here was clean, lacking the raw, untamed energy he had been surrounded by for hours.


    Despite the early hour, students were already filtering in, some preparing for their own hunts, others returning from overnight expeditions. A few glanced in his direction, their expressions ranging from mild curiosity to surprise.


    Riven didn''t linger.


    With smooth steps, he strode through the halls and out into the Second-Year Market District, his coat still dusted with dried blood. The scent of mana-infused goods filled the air¡ªherbs, potions, weapons, talismans¡ªall available for the right price.


    And for the first time, Riven had the currency to spend.


    His steps carried him toward one of the many potion stalls, its shelves lined with shimmering vials of various colors.


    As Riven''s gaze drifted over the rows of shimmering potions, a memory surfaced. The first time he had arrived in this world, he had used a detox potion¡ªa small but significant step that had refined his mana flow, making it more efficient.


    That had been before he had even formed his first Circle.


    Now, with his Second Circle fully established, his mana had evolved, becoming denser, stronger¡ªyet traces of old inefficiencies might still linger.


    If a detox potion had improved him back then, how much more could it enhance him now? It was worth finding out.


    The shopkeeper, a middle-aged woman with keen eyes, barely spared him a glance as he approached.


    "What do you need?" she asked briskly.


    Riven leaned against the counter, tapping his fingers against the polished wood. "Detox Potion. Strongest you have." Sear?h the n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    That caught her attention.


    She looked him over, eyes narrowing slightly. "Most students don''t request something that potent unless they''ve been stuck in a low-tier for too long or have overloaded their mana channels."


    Riven smiled faintly. "I like to be efficient."


    The shopkeeper hummed before reaching beneath the counter and pulling out a small, glass vial filled with thick, silver-blue liquid. Unlike the neatly arranged potions behind her, this one was sealed with intricate runes.


    "This is the Elixir of Purification, an Epic tiered potion." she said, setting it down between them. "Cleanses impurities, clears mana pathways, and breaks any lingering blockages from previous breakthroughs. But," she added, leveling him with a sharp look, "it''s strong. If your body isn''t ready, it will hurt."


    Riven''s fingers curled around the vial, feeling the cool glass beneath his fingertips. He wasn''t afraid of a little pain.


    "How much?" he asked.


    "Five rare Mana Cores and one Epic Core."


    Riven didn''t hesitate. He reached into his storage and pulled out the required cores, placing them on the counter. The shopkeeper raised a brow, clearly surprised at how quickly he produced them, but said nothing as she swept them into a storage pouch.


    "Pleasure doing business." She nodded, sliding the vial toward him.


    Riven pocketed it and turned away without another word.


    His next stop was a weapons vendor, where he browsed through various enchanted daggers, looking for something lightweight and discreet. While his Abyssal Flames were his main focus, he wasn''t so arrogant as to ignore the value of physical weapons. And whilst his legendary staff was still broken, he needed something that could substitute it for now.


    His eyes widened a fraction and he stilled as he remembered that he was still owed a day at the fire dense mana island courtesy of Elder Thorne.


    He would have to visit him later.


    He resumed his browsing, his gaze landing on a Blazebane Fang¡ªa short dagger forged from volcanic iron, its hilt imbued with an ever-burning ember core. The enchantment pulsed faintly, enhancing fire-affinity attacks and allowing the blade to ignite upon command. Expensive. But worth it.


    After securing a few more essential supplies¡ªrations, emergency recovery potions ¡ªRiven finally made his way back toward the dormitories.


    The market was beginning to fill with students by now, and more than a few whispers followed him.


    "Is that blood on him?"


    "Did he go to the Wilds alone?"


    "I thought he was a first-year just last week¡ªhow the hell does he look like that now?"


    Riven ignored them.


    He had what he needed. Now, it was time to purge his body of the remaining limitations.


    ¡ªx¡ª


    Riven entered his small room, closing the door behind him before tossing his newly acquired items onto the nearby desk. The weight of the mana cores in his storage and the Blazebane Fang at his side was reassuring, but for now, there was something more important to take care of.


    He turned toward the small adjoining bathing room and twisted the valve, letting hot water spill into the tub. Within moments, steam filled the space, curling against the walls and fogging the mirror.


    From his storage, he retrieved the Elixir of Purification. Uncorking the vial, he poured the entire contents into the steaming bath.


    The water shuddered as the elixir mixed in, tendrils of silver energy dispersing through the liquid before fading into an eerie transparency. A faint, sharp scent filled the air¡ªherbs, alchemical compounds, and something more potent beneath it.


    The purge was about to begin.


    Riven exhaled and undressed, stepping into the bath.


    The moment his skin met the water, a jolt of heat rushed through him, different from any flame he had ever felt. It wasn''t fire, wasn''t mana¡ªit was something deeper, something that dug into his very core.


    Then¡ªthe burning started.


    A searing heat crawled under his skin, sinking into his muscles, into his very bones. His mana channels flared, pulsing erratically as the detoxification process began.


    Impurities that even the previous detox potion couldn''t gather ¡ªyears of residual toxins, waste mana, stagnation¡ªall being forcefully purged from his body.


    Riven clenched his jaw as blackened veins briefly appeared along his arms, his body instinctively resisting the process. His abyssal flames flickered to life at his fingertips, reacting to the sudden upheaval inside him, but he forced them down.


    This pain was necessary and he welcomed it.


    His vision blurred for a moment as a wave of nausea hit him. Sweat mixed with the steam in the air, his breathing uneven. He could feel something being ripped away¡ªthe remnants of old trauma, traces of incomplete mana refinement, residual poisons from years of torment.


    Then¡ªhis body jerked.


    A dark, viscous substance seeped from his pores, dissolving into the water instantly. The bath around him darkened, faint whisps of energy rising from the surface.


    He exhaled sharply as his mana heart pulsed¡ªcleaner, sharper, more efficient.


    The burning eased, the pain fading into a strange, weightless sensation. His muscles felt lighter, his breath smoother.


    Then, something he hadn''t considered happened.


    His skin, once bearing faint remnants of battle scars, smoothed, imperfections fading as the detoxification process enhanced his natural healing. The rougher edges of his features¡ªsubtle remnants of exhaustio and strain¡ªsoftened, replaced by an almost unnatural sharpness.


    His hair, damp from the steam, darkened to an even deeper obsidian, strands shifting like liquid shadow in the low light. The once wine-red undertones, remnants of his Drakar bloodline, had deepened¡ªmore vivid, more pronounced.


    When he reached up to push his wet hair back, he caught a glimpse of his hand¡ªhis fingertips sharpened slightly, his nails carrying a faint, polished gleam. The detox had refined not just his mana channels but his physical body as well.


    His face felt lighter, as if years of strain had been stripped away, leaving behind something sleek, sharper, dangerously refined.


    He let out a slow breath and leaned back in the bath, letting the warmth settle over him.


    The elixir definitely lived up to its name - he was thoroughly purified.


    When he finally stepped out of the now blackened bathwater, steam clinging to his frame, his reflection in the mirror caught his eye.


    And for the first time in a long time since coming here, he barely recognized himself.


    His usual angular features now carried a sharper, unnatural symmetry¡ªlike something forged, rather than born. His eyes, already a striking shade of blue, now gleamed with an icy, predatory brilliance. The faintest glow of abyssal mana flickered within them, deep and consuming.


    His physique, forged from his previous Body Reforging had shed its final imperfections. Every muscle was lean, compact, and defined, his entire form perfectly balanced between grace and power.


    Riven ran a hand through his damp hair, smirking slightly.


    He looked¡­ inhumanly perfect.


    This was more than just purification¡ªit was transformation.


    Riven pulled his black robes over his shoulders, adjusting the fit before summoning Nyx and Krux from the depths of his shadow.


    The two materialized seamlessly and Krux let out a low whistle as he circled Riven, eyes flickering over his newly refined form. "That detox potion worked wonders, my liege. Perhaps I should get one as well." He flexed his arms, as if imagining his own transformation.


    Nyx smacked him lightly on the back of the head. "Don''t be greedy."


    Krux pouted but said nothing, rubbing the spot as he muttered under his breath.


    Riven, however, had already shifted his focus. His gaze turned sharp, calculating. "It''s time we make our move."


    At his words, both Nyx and Krux straightened, their casual banter replaced with absolute seriousness.


    "What are your orders, my liege?" Nyx asked, kneeling slightly in deference.


    Riven exhaled. "I''ll be training with the Archmage soon. When that happens, the king''s leash will tighten¡ªI''ll have even less freedom than I do now." His jaw clenched slightly. "I need to establish my influence beyond the kingdom before that happens."


    He sat on the edge of his bed, his brows furrowed in thought. "The problem is how."


    Nyx''s expression darkened, her eyes flickering with something distant¡ªmemories long buried. "The first step should be scouting the Shadow Kingdom."


    At Riven''s sharp look, she nodded and continued. "It''s been centuries since I last saw it, but I doubt much remains aside from ruins and wastelands. Still¡­" Her voice lowered, reverent. "It is our home. And more importantly, it is home to your people." She knelt fully now, one fist against her chest. "Some scattered, some hidden. Some waiting in the dark for your return."


    Riven''s expression hardened.


    The Shadow Kingdom. A land long lost, whispered only in myths. His people¡ªhis true bloodline¡ªhad been exiled, hunted, erased from history. He could feel the hunger in his mana, the pull toward something greater.


    But one issue remained.


    "I can''t leave the academy," Riven muttered. "Second-years aren''t permitted to travel freely. From what I understand, only third-years can leave for assignments, and I''m not close to forming my Third Circle, let alone my Fourth."


    A heavy silence settled over them.


    Then¡ª


    Krux scoffed, crossing his arms. "Why not just use your Shadow Clone?"


    Riven blinked. "What?"


    Nyx''s eyes widened before she let out a rare laugh, rubbing Krux on the head. "I knew you had a brain in there!" She turned back to Riven, excitement gleaming in her dark eyes. "Shadow Clone! It''s a lost necromancy ability¡ªone that Velmorian wielded. It would allow you to forge a copy of yourself and switch between your real body and the clone at will."


    Riven stilled, his mind racing.


    A perfect decoy. A way to be in two places at once.


    If he could find it and master it¡­


    It was the perfect solution.

 Chapter 47 - 47: Necromancy Skills

    The library remained open through the night, making it the perfect time for Riven to move unnoticed.


    He waited until the academy had fallen into deep silence before slipping out of his dorm. The corridors were eerily empty, save for the occasional staff member working late, their footsteps echoing faintly against the polished floors.


    By the time he reached the grand entrance of the library, only a handful of students remained on the first floor, hunched over thick tomes, lost in their studies. The air smelled of parchment and ink.


    Riven moved with purpose, passing through the dimly lit hall and making his way toward the back. He barely spared a glance at the guard stationed by the entrance to the upper levels, merely flashing his talisman in silent acknowledgment. A flicker of mana passed over him as his access was verified, and without hesitation, he ascended the stairs.


    The second floor was busier than the first, though only marginally. A few dedicated students still wandered between towering bookshelves, scanning for their next skill acquisition. Some were absorbed in their chosen tomes, while others whispered in hushed voices, discussing advanced techniques.


    Riven blended in effortlessly.


    His steps carried him deeper into the archives, past shelves lined with elemental spells and combat techniques. He moved as if he were simply another student browsing the vast collection.


    But he had only one objective.


    Necromancy skills.


    It was forbidden. Taboo. Knowledge that the academy refused to acknowledge officially, let alone teach. Yet Riven knew better¡ªthis library held a copy of every skill in existence. He had proof of it. His first necromancy skill, Puppeteer of the Dead, had been acquired from here.


    If one skill had slipped through the cracks, then there had to be more.


    ''System, scan for any necromancy books.'' The silent command left his thoughts like a ripple through the void.


    [[ Scanning¡­ ]]


    Riven pretended to browse, pulling out a random tome on fire-based incantations as he waited. He flipped through the pages idly, barely absorbing the text.


    A soft rustle of fabric caught his attention.


    An Acolyte passed behind him, their blindfolded gaze sweeping the room with eerie precision.


    Riven didn''t move.


    He remained still, feigning interest in the book in his hands, his breathing slow and controlled.


    The Acolyte paused for a fraction of a second before continuing down the aisle.


    Only when the presence faded did Riven allow himself to exhale.


    A faint unease curled in Riven''s stomach as the system took longer than usual to execute his command. The delay was abnormal¡ªtypically, the response was almost instantaneous.


    He was about to prompt the system again when his vision flickered.


    The library dimmed.


    A faint red glow pulsed at the edges of his sight, rhythmic, like a heartbeat.


    Riven''s breath stilled as he looked down.


    There¡ªfar beneath him, past the solid floor¡ªflickering motes of crimson light shimmered in the depths of the library. Not just one. Multiple.


    What the¡­?


    His pulse quickened. The glow wasn''t coming from a single level below¡ªit extended downward, deeper than the first floor. Multiple floors lower.


    But that didn''t make sense.


    The academy only listed the first floor of the library and upwards. Beyond that? Riven had heard in passing of whispers of hidden archives, of sealed knowledge buried beneath the academy''s foundation.


    And now, he was staring at proof of its existence.


    The necromancy books weren''t just hidden¡ªthey were buried.


    Riven''s fingers tightened around the book in his hands, his mind racing.


    Buried.


    Not misplaced. Not forgotten.


    Deliberately hidden.


    The academy hadn''t just banned necromancy¡ªthey had locked it away beneath layers of secrecy, deep within the foundations of the library. And yet, here it was, pulsing like a heartbeat, its presence unmistakable.


    No wonder they had been so shocked when the necromancy book appeared for Riven in the third trial.


    [[ Scan complete. ]]


    [[ Forbidden Archive detected. Depth unknown. ]]


    [[ Necromancy tomes detected: 7. ]]


    Seven.


    That was more than he had expected.


    Riven''s heartbeat steadied as his thoughts sharpened. If the books were locked away beneath the visible floors of the library, that meant there had to be a way down. A hidden staircase? A teleportation sigil? Some sort of mechanism built into the library?


    Whatever the case, he had to find it.


    But first, he needed to be careful.


    The library''s wards were strong, layered over centuries. If the academy had gone to such lengths to seal these books away, then getting to them wouldn''t be as simple as walking down a flight of stairs.


    A direct approach wasn''t an option.


    Riven exhaled slowly, closing the fire incantation book in his hands before slipping it back onto the shelf. He cast another glance around the second floor.


    The Acolyte was still patrolling, their blindfolded gaze unreadable as they moved in a slow, methodical path between the aisles.


    A few students remained scattered across the floor, their attention firmly rooted in their studies. None of them seemed to notice him.


    Good.


    He stepped away from the shelves and casually moved up to the above section where the rows of private training rooms were. Retrieving the key stone he still had from before, he pressed it against the panel. He felt the barrier on the door shimmer before unlocking with a soft click.


    The moment he stepped inside, he activated his shadows.


    Nyx and Krux emerged soundlessly, their forms materializing from the darkness around him.


    "What did you find?" Nyx''s voice was barely above a whisper, but her sharp gaze immediately locked onto his tense posture.


    "The books are hidden beneath the library," Riven murmured, keeping his voice low. "Deep beneath."


    Krux arched a brow, his golden eyes gleaming with interest. "They buried them? Interesting."


    Nyx folded her arms, her expression unreadable. "Then it won''t be easy to get them."


    Riven nodded. "I need to find the entrance first. But I can''t risk tripping any wards or alerting the Acolytes."


    Krux smirked. "So, we do this quietly."


    "Exactly." Riven turned back toward the door. "We start by looking for anomalies. Secret passages, misplaced mana flows, anything that doesn''t match the structure of the library."


    Nyx tilted her head. "And if there are wards?"


    "Then we disable them." Riven''s voice was calm, assured. "Or we go through them."


    A slow grin spread across Krux''s face. "Now you''re talking."


    Shadows began to coil around the two of them as they neared the door.


    "Don''t get caught." Was all Riven said before they stepped back out into the library.


    Nyx and Krux disappeared into the shadows and Riven began to make his way back down to the first floor of the library. The descent back was slow, deliberate.


    Riven kept his pace measured, moving between the towering bookshelves with an air of nonchalance. He passed a few students still lingering over their studies, their exhausted faces barely acknowledging him as he weaved through the aisles. The scent of old parchment and mana-infused ink was thick in the air, grounding him as he honed his focus.


    Every step was calculated.


    Every glance, every shift of movement, was part of the act.


    By the time he reached the ground floor, the library had grown quieter, the hour stretching deep into the night. The Acolytes moved in their slow, measured patrols, their blindfolded gazes sweeping over the space as they glided through the room like wraiths.


    Riven paid them no mind.


    He had more important things to worry about.


    ''System, map out any inconsistencies in the structure of the library.''


    The silent command sent a pulse through his vision, the mana-rich walls of the archives shimmering faintly as the system processed his request.


    [[ Scanning¡­ ]]


    A flicker of red traced across the polished floor beneath his feet.


    Riven stilled.


    There¡ªjust past the librarian''s desk¡ªwas an anomaly. A section of the floor that, to the untrained eye, appeared no different from the rest of the stone slabs. But to the system''s enhanced detection? It was off. The mana flowing through it was different. Disjointed.


    A hidden passage.


    Riven''s fingers twitched slightly, resisting the immediate urge to move.


    Not yet.


    If the entrance was so carefully disguised, there had to be protections in place. Wards, alarms¡ªpossibly even hidden triggers that would alert the academy if tampered with incorrectly.


    That meant he needed a way to test it without drawing attention.


    ''Nyx, Krux, status?''


    A ripple in his shadows responded almost instantly.


    ''No signs of movement below. No physical passage found yet. Wards are present¡ªsubtle, but layered. They''re old, but still active.'' The voice answered directly into his mind.


    Riven exhaled quietly. Sear?h the ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    That complicated things.


    If the entrance was still operational, it meant someone¡ªat some point¡ªhad accessed it. That meant there was a key, a method, a ritual. Something. And if it was still guarded after all this time, then whatever was down there was valuable enough for the academy to maintain its secrecy.


    He needed to be smart about this.


    Brute force would only get him so far.


    Riven moved toward a nearby shelf, selecting a random tome to blend in with the remaining students. His fingers traced the spine of the book absentmindedly as he considered his options.


    He could attempt to break the wards¡ªbut that would come with significant risk. If they were designed to alert the academy, it could bring scrutiny he wasn''t ready for yet.


    Or¡ª


    He could find someone who already had access.


    His mind worked through the possibilities. Who within the academy had reason to interact with the hidden archives? The Acolytes? An Elder, perhaps?


    The first option seemed like the best candidate seeing as they were here specifically here to guard and protect the library.


    Riven''s eyes narrowed slightly. His next move was clear. He needed to find a way to infiltrate the acolytes ¡ª If there was anyone in this academy who knew the way into the Forbidden Archive, it was them.


    But first¡ªhe had to leave without suspicion.


    Riven set the book back on the shelf and adjusted his posture, slipping seamlessly back into the role of a weary student. He made his way toward the exit, ignoring the lingering gazes of the few remaining scholars as he passed.


    The Acolytes didn''t stop him.


    The guards barely glanced his way.


    And just like that¡ªhe was gone.


    He made his way out to the back of the academy again, slipping into the underground mausoleum unnoticed. Nyx and Krux emerged soundlessly behind him.


    "Did you find anything?" Riven asked without turning, his voice low.


    Krux grinned, golden eyes gleaming faintly in the dim light. "Nothing useful¡ªunless you count an absurd collection of martial arts techniques. I must say, they have quite the extensive selection."


    Nyx exhaled sharply, pinching the bridge of her nose as if physically restraining herself from striking him. "I detected something¡ªa fluctuation in the mana flow, subtle but distinct. It''s centered behind the office area."


    Riven nodded. "I sensed it too."


    Nyx crossed her arms. "So, what''s the plan? It''s going to be difficult to even reach that place undetected let alone trying to enter it."


    Riven rubbed a hand over his face, frustration creeping in. "No, it won''t. But¡­" He let out a slow breath. "I have an idea. It''s reckless, risky, and has a good chance of going terribly wrong."


    Krux leaned forward, intrigued. "Sounds promising. Do tell."


    Riven''s gaze flickered toward them, his expression unreadable.


    "I''m going to kill an Acolyte."

 Chapter 48 - 48: Sana

    "I''m going to kill an Acolyte," Riven stated calmly. "Then use Puppeteer of the Dead to reanimate the body and infiltrate the library from the inside."


    Nyx and Krux stilled, their eyes sharpening as they processed his words.


    "I can use the Acolyte''s identity to access internal records," Riven continued. "There must be documents on the hidden passage and how to bypass its wards."


    Krux''s grin widened, golden eyes flashing with anticipation. "Now that is a strategy I can get behind, my liege."


    Nyx, ever the pragmatist, remained thoughtful. "Executing it won''t be easy. The Acolytes rarely leave the library, and if one goes missing, it''ll raise immediate suspicion."


    Riven smirked. "That''s why I''ve already chosen my target."


    Nyx raised a brow. "Oh?"


    "Sana," Riven said smoothly. "She was the one overseeing me during the third trial. She''s already aware of my connection to necromancy, and with the King keeping the staff on high alert for anything related to the undead, she won''t be able to ignore even the slightest hint of suspicion."


    Nyx''s eyes darkened with understanding. "So you''re going to bait her."


    "Exactly," Riven confirmed. "I''ll make it seem like I''m struggling with the necromancy skill I acquired when I was with her ¡ª she won''t be able to ignore it."


    Nyx crossed her arms. "Even if she takes the bait, getting rid of her quietly will be the real challenge."


    Riven''s smirk deepened. "Then I suppose I''ll just have to be very quiet."


    Nyx and Krux exchanged glances before shifting their focus back to Riven. The weight of his plan was sinking in¡ªevery step had to be calculated, flawless. A single mistake, and the entire academy would be on high alert.


    "We need to find out where she is first," Nyx murmured, her gaze sharp. "Acolytes don''t wander the academy aimlessly. If she''s stationed at the library, she''ll have a designated task or schedule."


    "I''ll ask for her directly," Riven decided. "If I act like a confused student seeking guidance on necromancy, she''ll have no reason to be suspicious. Ill have her meet me somewhere secluded and I''ll kill her swiftly."


    Nyx sighed, shaking her head. "It''s too late now ¡ª we should head out at dawn."


    Riven nodded. "Let''s use this time to plan exactly how this will be carried out."


    ¡ªx¡ª


    Riven strode into the academy''s library the next morning, his movements unhurried yet deliberate. The towering bookshelves stretched toward the vaulted ceiling, their shadows cast long by the first rays of dawn filtering through the high arched windows.


    He approached the front desk where a stern-looking acolyte was meticulously organizing scrolls. Without hesitation, he spoke.


    "I''m looking for Acolyte Sana."


    The clerk barely spared him a glance before flipping through a thick, rune-etched registry book. The pages shimmered with shifting names and schedules, constantly updating themselves in real-time.


    "Acolyte Sana is currently on duty within the second-floor archives," the clerk replied monotonously. "Do you require assistance with a request?"


    Riven shook his head. "No. I need to speak to her directly. It''s about the necromancy skill I received during the trials."


    That, at last, made the clerk pause.


    His gaze flicked up to Riven, assessing, then he nodded. "I will inform her."


    The clerk whispered a quick incantation, and a pulse of mana spread through the library like an unseen ripple.


    Moments later, soft footsteps echoed from the second-floor staircase.


    Acolyte Sana descended with the same eerie grace that all Acolytes carried¡ªsilent, almost ghostly. Her blindfolded gaze remained impassive, her robes flowing around her like shifting shadows.


    She stopped in front of him. "You sought me out."


    "I need to talk," Riven said, voice just the right mix of hesitant and urgent. "About my skill."


    A pause.


    Sana''s expression remained unreadable, but he could sense the shift in her demeanor. Curiosity. Wariness.


    "Go on," she said.


    Riven exhaled, feigning discomfort. "It''s¡­ begun to react strangely. I haven''t used it since I learned it but¡­ It keeps resonating with the mana in my body, but I don''t know why. You were there when I first acquired it. I thought you might understand."


    Another pause.


    Sana tilted her head slightly, considering. Riven knew she was running calculations in her mind¡ªassessing the risk, the importance, and most of all, whether this was something she should report.


    Which was precisely what Riven was counting on.


    "¡­When did this start?" she finally asked.


    "A few days ago. At first, I thought it was nothing, but it''s getting worse." He rubbed his arm as if discomforted. "I don''t want to report it to anyone higher up yet. Not without knowing what''s wrong."


    The moment the words left his lips, he saw the decision solidify in her expression.


    The King had undoubtedly ordered all staff to keep a close watch on him. Anything remotely unusual involving necromancy had to be reported.


    But in order to report it properly, she would have to investigate first and she knew that if she involved anyone else too soon, Riven might shut down completely.


    He watched the internal struggle unfold in her mind¡ªlogic, duty, suspicion.


    Then, she nodded. "I will assess the situation myself."


    Perfect.


    Riven kept his relief hidden beneath a furrowed brow. "Thank you. Meet me at the training fields this evening. I don''t want to risk any disturbances."


    Sana didn''t question it. "Very well. I will come alone."


    That was all he needed to hear.


    He gave her a small nod before turning and walking away, keeping his pace steady. As he exited the library, a slow smirk curled his lips.


    Hook, line, and sinker.


    ¡ªx¡ª


    Night fell swiftly over the academy, cloaking the training fields in a soft hush. The torches lining the pathways flickered, casting long shadows that twisted with the wind.


    Riven stood alone in the dim glow, his Abyssal Flames pulsing beneath his skin.


    Behind him, unseen, Nyx and Krux waited in the darkness.


    "She''ll be here soon," Nyx murmured, voice barely above a whisper.


    Riven didn''t respond. His hands flexed at his sides. He wasn''t nervous. No, this wasn''t a test¡ªit was a calculated execution.


    One that would change everything.


    Then, from the distance, he heard it. Soft, steady footsteps.


    Acolyte Sana arrived, her blindfolded gaze locked onto him even without sight.


    "I am here," she announced, stopping a few feet away. "Show me."


    Riven exhaled, letting his mana flicker chaotically¡ªjust enough to make it look unstable. His Abyssal Flames wove between his fingers, twisting unnaturally.


    Sana frowned. "That is¡­ unusual."


    She stepped closer.


    Closer.


    One more step.


    And then¡ª


    Nyx struck. A blade shone faintly in the moonlight.


    Sana''s blindfolded head snapped up, sensing the shift¡ªbut she was already too late.


    Nyx''s dagger sliced effortlessly across Sana''s throat, the blade whispering through flesh. A strangled gasp escaped her lips as she stumbled back, crimson spilling over her robes in violent contrast. Her hands shot up instinctively, pressing against the wound, but it was futile¡ªthe life was already draining from her eyes.


    Her knees buckled and she fell.


    Silence.


    Nyx wiped her blade, stepping back. "Swift and clean."


    Riven crouched beside the acolyte as the last flickers of life faded from her body.


    He felt nothing.


    Just another obstacle removed.


    He raised his hand over her still form and abyssal Flames coiled around his fingers.


    "Awaken." He sent out the command and a rush of mana crackled to life around them.


    [[ Attempting Skill: Puppeteer of the Dead ]]


    A shadowy aura coiled around her corpse, sinking into her flesh like unseen tendrils. Her lifeless body twitched violently, limbs jerking as if resisting before finally succumbing. With unnatural stiffness, she rose, the gaze beneath the blindfold now hollow and lifeless.


    [[ Subjugation successful ]]


    [[ Adding Acolyte Sana as an undead minion 2/5 ]]


    Sana''s body dropped awkwardly to one knee, her head tilted downward in a grotesque bow.


    "Maaaaaasterrrrrr¡­" Her mouth moved sluggishly, her voice rasping out in a hollow breath.


    Riven''s gaze flicked over her reanimated form, his brow furrowing. Her movements were stiff, unnatural¡ªfar too conspicuous for what he needed.


    "Hmm¡­ blending in might be a problem." He rubbed his chin, studying her carefully.


    With a sigh, he extended his hand, letting a single finger wreathed in abyssal flame graze her robes. The dark fire ignited instantly, burning with precise control, devouring every trace of blood that had stained the dark fabric without harming the material itself. The scent of iron and charred energy faded into the damp air.


    "Hide for now," Riven ordered. "We''ll deal with the next steps back at the mausoleum."


    Without hesitation, Sana''s undead form dissolved into the shifting void of his shadows. Riven and his warriors wasted no time, slipping through the forest to the back of the academy, using the cover of darkness to move unseen.


    They emerged only once they reached the forgotten depths of the mausoleum, its dust-ridden stone walls offering sanctuary from prying eyes.


    Riven turned to his subordinates without missing a beat. "Krux, scout the library from the shadows. Ensure no one is investigating Sana''s disappearance."


    Krux grinned, the anticipation of mischief gleaming in his golden eyes. "Consider it handled, my liege." With that, his form blurred into the darkness, vanishing from sight.


    "Nyx," Riven continued, his voice unwaverin. "Hold position at the entrance. If anyone comes near, alert me immediately."


    Nyx inclined her head, stepping into the shadows without a sound, her presence melting into the mausoleum''s ancient walls.


    Now alone, Riven exhaled, summoning the acolyte once more. He paced around her, keen eyes scanning her stiff posture, the unnatural way her limbs twitched.


    This won''t do.


    She needed refinement. Something beyond the crude, hollow shell of an undead servant.


    "System," he murmured, tapping his fingers against his forearm. "Is there a way to make her¡­ less corpse-like? More human?"


    [[ Query Processing¡­ ]]


    [[ Solution Found: Undead Advancement System Available ]]


    [[ Current Minion Rank: Basic Undead Minion ]]


    [[ Available Promotion: Undead Warrior ¡ª Requires direct infusion of Master''s mana. This will grant improved cognitive abilities, enhanced physical dexterity, and the ability to simulate human mannerisms. ]]


    Riven''s eyes glinted with intrigue as he studied the system prompt. An undead warrior? That was exactly what he needed. If he could refine Sana''s control and movements, she could pass as a normal Acolyte long enough to infiltrate the library unnoticed.


    He let out a slow exhale. "How much mana will it take?"


    [[ Estimated Cost: 15% of current reserves. Temporary exhaustion may occur depending on the subject''s compatibility. ]]


    Manageable.


    Riven flexed his fingers, his abyssal flames flickering to life at his fingertips. He didn''t hesitate¡ªhis mana surged forth, coiling into dark threads that slithered toward Sana''s still form.


    The moment the energy made contact, her body convulsed violently.


    A deep, guttural groan escaped her lips as the abyssal flames sank into her core, weaving into her very essence. Her limbs twitched, her posture straightening as the rigid stiffness of undeath melted away into something more¡­ fluid.


    Then, something changed.


    The air thickened.


    Sana''s dull, lifeless presence sharpened.


    Her fingers flexed. Her shoulders rolled back. The awkward, jerking motions she had displayed before were now smooth, almost too smooth. A deep breath¡ªthough unnecessary¡ªpassed through her lips, as if her body instinctively mimicked life.


    Her blindfolded head tilted up toward him, and when she spoke, the hollow rasp from before had been replaced with something eerily composed.


    "I¡­ hear you, Master," she murmured, her voice steady yet carrying an undertone of something darker. More aware.


    Riven narrowed his gaze. He could feel it¡ªher presence had shifted. She was no longer a simple puppet bound to raw commands. There was intelligence there now. Subservient. Loyal. But¡­ thinking.


    The system chimed again.


    [[ Promotion Complete: Undead Minion ¡ú Undead Warrior ]]


    [[ New Capabilities Unlocked:


    ¡ª Increased Dexterity and Reflexes


    ¡ª Ability to Simulate Human Speech and Expressions


    ¡ª Minor Mana Recovery Over Time


    ¡ª Enhanced Cognitive Functions ]]


    Riven crossed his arms, studying her intently.


    "Speak. Can you think for yourself?"


    Sana''s lips parted, and for the first time, there was no hesitation in her reply.


    "Yes, Master," she said smoothly. "My thoughts are¡­ clearer." A pause. "I am still bound to your will, but I can now¡­ interpret your desires rather than simply obeying without thought."


    Riven raised a brow at that. Interesting.


    He narrowed his eyes, an important question tugging at his brain. "Can you still access your memories from before your death?"


    Sana hesitated for a fraction of a second. Then, she slowly nodded. "Yes¡­ but they are¡­ faded. I remember my duties. My place in the academy. But my emotions¡­ they are distant, insignificant. I understand what I was, but I do not care for it anymore."


    Perfect. S§×arch* The novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Riven smirked. "Then we have work to do."


    He stepped back, letting his eyes drift toward the mausoleum''s towering walls. They had what they needed now¡ªan insider within the library itself. With Sana moving freely as an Acolyte, the rest of the infiltration could finally begin.


    But first¡ªshe needed a test.


    He turned back to her, sharp blue eyes gleaming under the dim torchlight.


    "Go back to the library," he ordered. "Resume your duties as if nothing has changed. Gather information on the internal archives¡ªfind out exactly how the hidden floors are sealed. If anyone asks why you were gone, improvise."


    Sana bowed her head in acknowledgment, her movements smooth, eerily human now. "Understood."


    "And Sana?" Riven''s voice dropped lower. "If anything goes wrong¡­ destroy all evidence of your presence."


    A pause.


    Then, a slow, almost unnatural smile curled at the edges of her lips.


    "As you wish, Master."


    Without another word, she turned and dissolved into the shadows, her form vanishing as she moved back toward the academy.


    Riven let out a breath, rolling his shoulders. That had been a success.


    Krux reappeared then, stepping from the shadows with his usual smug grin. "Well, I have good news. No one suspects a thing about the missing Acolyte. The library staff assumes she''s still on duty."


    Riven smirked. "Good. Then let''s see how well our little undead acolyte can do."

 Chapter 49 - 49: A Friendly Spar

    The night air hung thick with silence as Riven leaned against the cold stone of the mausoleum, his mind already churning through the next steps. Sana was in place, a perfect infiltrator, but she was still an unknown variable. The Undead Advancement System had given her cognitive abilities beyond a mere puppet, yet how much of her former self remained was uncertain.


    He had to be sure she would not falter.


    Closing his eyes, Riven focused inward, feeling the lingering threads of mana connecting him to his undead minions. His connection to Sana pulsed faintly, an echo of awareness tethering them together.


    What else can I do with this bond?


    The thought struck him like a slow, creeping realization. He had felt it, just for a moment, when she first awakened¡ªa flicker of something deeper than mere control.


    What if¡­


    He inhaled sharply, his abyssal flames flickered to life, wrapping around his fingers as he reached out¡ªnot with words, but with will. A soft ripple ran through the flames as they danced around his body, slowly pulsing as he pushed his consciousness outward.


    For a split second, nothing happened.


    Then, everything shifted.


    A disorienting lurch gripped him as his vision fractured. The darkness of the mausoleum vanished, replaced by something else entirely.


    A grand corridor.


    Dim torchlight flickered around the borders of his vision, something soft and dark fastened across his eyes.


    His field of view was slightly off, as though filtered through something not quite his own. Sound was muffled, distorted, the world sluggish yet unbearably sharp.


    Then¡ªhe heard it.


    The rustling of parchment. The whisper of robes brushing against stone.


    This¡­ this is Sana''s perspective.


    The realization was staggering. He wasn''t just commanding her¡ªhe was seeing through her eyes. Hearing what she was hearing.


    Riven fought the sudden nausea threatening to unsteady his mind. The experience was jarring, unnatural. The world tilted at strange angles, like peering through a lens that wasn''t meant for him.


    His vision blurred, static crackling at the edges.


    Not yet¡­ I can''t hold this for long.


    Still, he focused. He watched.


    Sana moved gracefully, unnervingly precise. She carried herself as an Acolyte would¡ªunhurried, silent, her presence barely a whisper among the other library attendants.


    And although she wore the black silk blindfold across her eyes, she could still see ¡ª just not in a normal sense. Soft outlines of people and objects appeared in her vision but she couldn''t see any specific details, just enough to be able to move around.


    No one looked at her twice as she moved ¡ª it was working.


    A pair of acolytes stood by the restricted archive doors, their hushed conversation barely discernible.


    "¡­Seals have been reinforced again¡­ after what happened last month¡­"


    "¡­Only the High Curator can access the lower chambers now¡­"


    "¡­Tome of Silent Oaths¡ªmoved it deeper¡­"


    Their words melted into static as Riven''s grip on the connection faltered.


    His head snapped back to reality.


    The mausoleum.


    His own body.


    His breath came ragged as the foreign sensations bled away, leaving him momentarily disoriented. His fingers twitched, the phantom echoes of Sana''s movements still clinging to his nerves.


    He exhaled sharply.


    That had been¡­ something else entirely.


    A grin slowly crept onto his face. He had only held it for a few seconds, but if he could train this¡ªif he could refine it¡ªthen he wouldn''t just be commanding his undead.


    He could become them.


    That changed everything.


    Footsteps approached from the darkness. Nyx emerged from her post, golden eyes flicking to his face.


    "You look pleased with yourself," she noted, cocking her head to the side.


    Riven chuckled, shaking the lingering haze from his mind. "I am."


    Krux appeared next, stretching lazily as he leaned against a stone pillar. "Did our dear undead Acolyte do well?"


    "She''s already inside, blending seamlessly," Riven confirmed. "And I saw through her eyes. Not just felt her presence¡ªI saw what she saw."


    Nyx''s brows lifted, and even Krux straightened slightly, his grin faltering.


    "¡­That''s new," Nyx murmured, folding her arms. "A side effect of the promotion?"


    "Maybe." Riven exhaled. "I could only hold it for a few moments, but I was there. I heard what she heard, saw what she saw." His lips curled into a smirk. "If I can extend that time, I won''t need scouts anymore. I''ll be my own informant."


    Krux let out a low whistle. "That''s one hell of an advantage."


    Nyx nodded. "But you''ll need practice. If it''s as unstable as you say, pushing too hard could cause some backlash."


    "I know." Riven ran a hand through his hair. "That''s why I won''t rely on it¡ªyet."


    His gaze sharpened.


    "But once I''ve mastered it?" His smirk deepened. "Then no secret in this academy will be beyond my reach."


    A knowing silence settled between them. They all understood the implication.


    The possibilities were endless. When they departed to survey the Shadow Kingdom, they could leave spies within the academy, ensuring a constant flow of information. Their reach could extend far beyond these walls¡ªsilent watchers embedded in every corner. This wasn''t just an advantage; it was a revolution.


    ¡ªx¡ª


    Riven spent the rest of the morning refining his connection with Sana, pushing the limits of his control. But when his latest attempt sent his head spinning, his stomach lurched violently. He barely had time to turn before he doubled over, retching onto the ground.


    "My liege, perhaps it''s time for a break." Nyx was at his side instantly, wiping his mouth with practiced efficiency. Krux steadied him, looping an arm around his shoulders to keep him upright.


    Riven exhaled shakily, his vision swimming. "Maintaining the connection¡­ is a lot harder than I thought." His voice was hoarse, his mind pounding with residual strain.


    "You can improve your mental fortitude, but it''s not easy¡ªfar from it," Krux said, arms crossed. "Martial artists like myself rely on an unshakable mind to execute our techniques at the highest level. I have my own method for strengthening the mind, a technique passed down through the generations. I can share it with you, but I''ll need some time to prepare."


    Riven''s brow arched in surprise. "A mind-strengthening technique? That could be invaluable." He nodded in appreciation. "I''d appreciate that, Krux."


    "Uhm¡ªof course! Haha!" Krux''s face flushed slightly before he burst into a hearty laugh. "Leave it to your number one General, my king! I won''t disappoint!" With a wide grin, he vanished in a swirl of shadows, his excitement almost palpable.


    Nyx watched him disappear, then scoffed, shaking her head. "That idiot''s going to be walking on air for the rest of the year after that praise."


    Riven let out a quiet chuckle as Nyx helped him lower himself onto a stone bench within the mausoleum.


    "A mind-strengthening technique," he murmured, the words lingering on his tongue as if testing their weight. "I didn''t even know such a thing was possible."


    Nyx gave him a knowing smile. "All things are possible, Riven. I''ve seen things¡ªexperienced things¡ªthat defy all reason. After witnessing the impossible enough times, you stop doubting what can be done."


    A thoughtful silence settled between them.


    For a brief moment, the sharp edge of Riven''s gaze softened. "I understand," he said simply.


    Leaning his head back against the cool stone, he allowed his turbulent thoughts to settle. The world felt clearer, more precise. His mind no longer raced with endless calculations¡ªit simply focused.


    Decision made.


    He stood abruptly.


    "I''ve decided what I''m going to do today," he announced, his voice steady as he stepped toward the mausoleum''s exit.


    Nyx fell into step beside him. "Oh?"


    "I''ll stop by the market district first," Riven said, a smirk tugging at his lips as anticipation stirred in his veins. "And then¡ªI''m going to pay Elder Thorne a visit."


    His smirk deepened, his pulse thrumming with a quiet excitement.


    "It''s time to claim what I''m owed."


    ¡ªx¡ª


    The midday sun broke through the shifting clouds, casting golden light across the familiar training grounds where Riven had once spent countless hours under Elder Thorne''s instruction. The scent of sweat and dried earth filled the air, punctuated by the rhythmic sounds of magic-infused strikes colliding against training dummies.


    "Huh? Riven?!"


    Lucenya was the first to notice him. She froze mid-motion, the wind blades she had been firing dissipating as she turned toward him. A grin stretched across her face, her green eyes alight with excitement.


    "I can finally see you again!" she exclaimed, jogging toward him, strands of her pale blonde hair sticking to her forehead from exertion. "I can''t believe you just disappeared after becoming a second-year like that." She pouted, crossing her arms.


    Riven chuckled at her expression. "I''ve been busy."


    "Tch."


    A familiar, irritated glare met him from across the training field. Valis barely spared Riven a glance before turning his focus back to his own training, striking at a practice target with aggressive precision.


    Lucenya leaned in slightly, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "You know, Valis was furious when he found out you ascended. His family has been spending a fortune buying up mana potions just to force his breakthrough to the second year."


    Riven smirked, amusement flickering in his gaze. "Is that so? How pathetic."


    "I know, right?" Lucenya scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Apparently, your father''s been rubbing it in Valis''s father''s face every chance he gets."


    The smirk on Riven''s lips faded for a fraction of a second, his expression hardening before he carefully schooled it back to neutrality.


    So his father was leeching off his success.


    Before he could dwell on it further, a new voice cut in.


    "Hey, Riven!"


    Jerrik jogged over, looking noticeably bulkier since the last time Riven had seen him. His sharp, stoic demeanor remained, but there was something new in his stance¡ªan air of confidence, of quiet anticipation.


    "Are you free for a moment?" Jerrik asked.


    Lucenya blinked, surprised that the usually aloof Jerrik was initiating conversation.


    Riven crossed his arms. "What''s up?"


    "Spar with me." Jerrik''s lips curled into a grin. "I want to see how I measure up against the first student in decades to ascend so quickly."


    Lucenya scowled. "Jerrik!"


    Riven, however, let out a low chuckle, a dangerous glint in his eyes. "Interesting."


    "What''s all the commotion?"


    A familiar deep voice carried across the grounds.


    Elder Thorne approached, his sharp, weathered features set in an expression of mild surprise. His gaze settled on Riven, and for a brief moment, something like approval flickered across his face.


    "Ah, you''re here, Riven." Elder Thorne folded his arms. "Congratulations on your ascension¡ªI haven''t seen you since you left."


    Riven inclined his head in acknowledgment. "I apologize. As you can imagine, I''ve had much to focus on."


    "Understandable." Elder Thorne gave a rare, faint smile before his expression turned serious. "So, what brings you back?"


    "I came to arrange my visit to the fire-dense mana island," Riven explained before gesturing toward Jerrik. "But I''ve also been challenged to a spar."


    Elder Thorne studied both of them for a moment, his keen gaze assessing. Then, he nodded. "Very well. Show us how much you''ve improved since your ascension."


    Jerrik''s grin widened as he stepped back, rolling his shoulders. Lucenya let out an exasperated sigh but moved out of the way, watching intently. Even Valis, despite his clear irritation, drifted closer, arms crossed as he observed.


    Jerrik cracked his knuckles. "Don''t hold back¡ªgive me everything you''ve got."


    Riven''s smirk sharpened. "Don''t blame me if you get hurt."


    The air around him shuddered.


    A pulse of unseen energy rippled through the training grounds as darkness curled at his fingertips. Then, with a slow, deliberate motion, abyssal flames flickered to life around his hands, licking at his skin.


    Lucenya inhaled sharply. "What¡­ are those flames?"


    Jerrik''s stance tensed.


    Elder Thorne said nothing, but his gaze darkened, sharpening like a blade. S§×ar?h the n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The atmosphere grew heavy.


    Riven simply tilted his head, abyssal fire crackling softly around him.


    Jerrik exhaled sharply, rolling his shoulders before dropping into a low stance. His muscles coiled like a drawn bow, his body completely still¡ªunnaturally so.


    Riven''s gaze sharpened.


    Jerrik had always been strong, his power honed through raw physical endurance intwined with mana¡­ but now? Now there was something refined about him, something deliberate. He wasn''t the same brute who relied on instinct and strength alone.


    A small smirk tugged at the corner of Riven''s lips.


    This would be interesting.


    "Begin." Elder Thorne''s voice rang clear.


    Jerrik moved.


    He shot forward like a blur, his foot barely brushing the ground before he was already in striking range. A palm strike, fast and precise, aimed for Riven''s chest.


    Fast. But not fast enough.


    Riven twisted his body at the last moment, his robes whipping around him as he sidestepped, narrowly avoiding the strike. The force of Jerrik''s palm grazed past him, stirring the air.


    A feint.


    Jerrik pivoted on his heel, using the missed strike as a setup for a devastating follow-up. His other hand clenched into a fist, driving upward toward Riven''s ribs.


    Riven''s abyssal flames surged.


    A flick of his wrist, and a tendril of black fire lashed out, intercepting Jerrik''s fist mid-strike. The force of the blow sent sparks flying as raw physical strength met abyssal energy.


    The moment of impact forced both of them to disengage, each leaping back to reassess.


    Jerrik grinned. "Not bad."


    Riven smirked. "Likewise."


    Lucenya, standing on the sidelines, had wide eyes. "He actually countered Riven''s flames¡­"


    Valis'' expression was unreadable, his arms crossed as he observed.


    Jerrik didn''t waste a second. He adjusted his stance, his breathing measured, before vanishing from sight again.


    He''s getting faster.


    Rivens abyssal flames coiled around him, responding to his will. This time, he didn''t wait for Jerrik to reach him.


    He moved first.


    The ground cracked beneath Riven''s feet as he lunged, meeting Jerrik head-on. Their strikes clashed in a blur of speed¡ªJerrik''s fists a storm of controlled aggression, Riven''s fire-laced counters precise and unrelenting.


    Palm strikes turned into elbow blows. Kicks into parries. Abyssal fire meeting raw physical power.


    Jerrik''s martial arts weren''t just brute force¡ªthey were adaptable. Fluid. He twisted through Riven''s flames, using his footwork to maneuver through gaps in the attacks.


    But Riven wasn''t just relying on his fire.


    He adjusted. He anticipated.


    Abyssal flames flickered before vanishing entirely.


    Jerrik''s next strike came fast, a knee aimed at Riven''s stomach.


    Too predictable.


    Riven sidestepped and pivoted, grabbing Jerrik''s arm mid-motion and using his own momentum against him. With a swift twist, he redirected the force¡ªsending Jerrik flying backward.


    Jerrik skidded across the dirt, but he caught himself with a roll, flipping back onto his feet.


    His grin widened. "You''re even faster than before."


    Riven straightened. "And you''re more refined than I expected."


    Elder Thorne watched them carefully, his gaze unreadable. "This is an excellent exchange. But¡­"


    His eyes flicked toward Jerrik. "Your breathing is starting to slip."


    Jerrik exhaled, realizing the same. His shoulders rose slightly with exertion. He was already burning stamina trying to keep up.


    Riven was barely winded.


    "You sure you don''t want to end this here?" Riven taunted, his smirk deepening.


    Jerrik scoffed. "Not a chance."


    He rushed in again, but this time, Riven could see the slight hesitation in his movements.


    He''s already tiring ¡ª It was time to finish this.


    As Jerrik closed the distance, Riven raised his hand.


    Abyssal flames roared to life, but instead of forming a direct attack, they split into dozens of small embers¡ªfloating, flickering, surrounding them both in a controlled field of fire.


    Jerrik didn''t falter. He lunged forward, fist cocked back. Just as planned.


    The moment he entered the range of the embers, Riven clenched his fingers.


    Crimson Mirage.


    The embers shimmered.


    And then¡ªRiven vanished.


    Jerrik''s fist struck nothing but air. His eyes widened.


    Riven reappeared behind him in a flicker of dark fire, his palm crackling with condensed abyssal energy.


    Before Jerrik could turn, Riven struck.


    His palm landed against Jerrik''s back¡ªnot as an attack, but as a controlled burst of abyssal force.


    The impact sent Jerrik staggering forward, his body momentarily freezing from the shockwave. It wasn''t painful, but it was over.


    Jerrik steadied himself, blinking. Then, he sighed. "Damn."


    The embers around them died down.


    Riven lowered his hand. "You would''ve lasted longer if you weren''t burning so much energy trying to keep up."


    Jerrik exhaled, rubbing the back of his head. "Guess I still have a long way to go."


    Lucenya let out a breath. "That¡­ was insane."


    Valis turned away without a word, but the tension in his jaw said everything.


    Elder Thorne finally spoke. "A well-fought match. Jerrik, you''ve improved significantly. Your technique is solid, but against someone like Riven, you need to focus on endurance and adaptability."


    Jerrik nodded. "Understood."


    The elder turned to Riven. "And you¡­"


    Riven tilted his head, waiting.


    "You are not the same student you were before," Elder Thorne mused. His gaze flickered to where the last remnants of abyssal flame faded from Riven''s fingertips.


    "I''d like to know more about those flames."


    Riven smirked. "Wouldn''t you?"

 Chapter 50 - 50: A Conversation of Fire and Shadows

    "Let''s have a chat, Riven." Elder Thorne flicked his wrist, summoning a swirling portal of violet and blue mana. The air crackled around it, the arcane energy humming softly. Without turning, he called over his shoulder, "The rest of you, continue training."


    Riven cast a quick glance at Jerrik, Lucenya, and even Valis before stepping forward. With a lazy wave of his fingers, he disappeared into the gate.


    The moment they emerged, Riven immediately recognized the room.


    Elder Thorne''s office.


    The same place he had been brought to after his fight with Cole. The scent of aged parchment and mana-infused incense lingered in the air, a familiar weight settling over the space. The bookshelves stood tall, each filled with tomes on magic, history, and war. The grand wooden desk was polished as ever, a testament to Thorne''s meticulous nature.


    Riven''s gaze flicked to the chair across from the desk, expecting Thorne to take his usual seat. Instead, the elder pulled a different chair beside it and sat down next to him.


    "Sit."


    Riven didn''t need to be told twice. He plopped down, crossing one leg over the other, his chin resting on his fist as he studied Thorne. The man''s posture was different¡ªmore relaxed than usual. It put Riven slightly on edge.


    Then came the inevitable question.


    "Well?" Thorne leaned back, his golden gaze sharp yet unreadable. "Are you going to tell me how you got those flames of yours?"


    Riven smirked. "What, so curious about a black-colored flame?" He shrugged, keeping his tone deliberately casual. "I''ve been refining my fire techniques, and my mana¡­ evolved, I suppose. Not sure how to explain it."


    Not a lie. But far from the full truth.


    Thorne didn''t respond immediately. Instead, he simply watched him.


    Silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken words.


    Then, with a quiet sigh, Thorne lifted his hand.


    A faint shimmer expanded outward, forming an invisible dome around the room. The air grew still, as if the outside world had been completely sealed off.


    "I''ve placed a silence spell," Thorne said, his voice lower now, almost measured. He leaned forward slightly, his piercing gaze never leaving Riven''s. "So why don''t you tell me where you really got those¡­ Abyssal Flames?"


    Riven froze.


    For just a fraction of a second, his carefully crafted mask cracked.


    He hadn''t expected Thorne to recognize them. Not so easily. Not so definitively.


    Elder Thorne chuckled at the look on his face. "Hah¡­ did you really think no one would know?" His expression shifted, something distant flickering behind his eyes. "Well, perhaps not many would. But I was there."


    His gaze drifted, as if looking past Riven¡ªthrough him¡ªinto something far beyond the confines of this room.


    "I fought in the war," Thorne murmured, his voice quieter now. "Against Velmorian and his Shadow Kingdom."


    Riven was caught completely off guard.


    For the first time in a long while, he had no immediate response. His lips parted slightly, but no words came out.


    He even knew of Velmorian?


    He forced himself to regain composure, masking his curiosity with feigned ignorance. "Velmorian?" he echoed, his brow furrowing just enough to look convincingly puzzled.


    Thorne exhaled, shaking his head. "I suppose you wouldn''t know," he said, almost to himself. Then, his gaze refocused, sharp once more. "Velmorian was the King of the Shadow Kingdom. He was the strongest Necromancer in the continent ¡ª no, the strongest Necromancer in the world."


    Riven''s pulse quickened¡ªbut he kept his face neutral.


    He wanted to ask what more Elder Thorne knew, but he knew better. If he seemed too interested, it would only draw suspicion.


    So instead, he leaned back in his chair, keeping his tone even. "And what does he have to do with me?"


    Elder Thorne studied him, silent for a long moment. Then, he gave a slow, almost knowing smile.


    "I''m not sure yet," he admitted. "But your flames¡­ they remind me of his shadows."


    Riven forced a casual shrug. "Shadows? But I wield fire. Sure it''s colour is slightly unusual ¡ª but it''s just fire at the end of the day."


    Thorne''s eyes glinted. "No," he said. "Not this fire."


    Riven said nothing.


    He wasn''t going to confirm. He wasn''t going to deny. He was just going to let the silence do the work for him.


    And Thorne, perceptive as ever, didn''t press further.


    At least not yet.


    Instead, Elder Thorne leaned back in his chair, his expression unreadable. "Regardless, you need to be careful," he said, his voice measured. "Not everyone here is an old man like myself who remembers the war. But some of the Elders here were there. And they fear necromantic power more than anything."


    Riven tilted his head slightly. "And you?" he asked, his voice deceptively light. But his eyes¡ªhis eyes told a different story. A quiet, unsettling intensity simmered beneath the surface. "Are you afraid of the Abyss?"


    For a fraction of a second, Elder Thorne froze.


    The color drained from his face as something shifted in the air.


    Riven wasn''t smiling anymore. He wasn''t smirking, wasn''t wearing his usual mask of amusement or calculated indifference.


    No.


    What stared back at Elder Thorne now was something entirely different.


    Cold. Unfeeling. Vast.


    A presence that was not meant to exist within a mere student.


    For the first time, Elder Thorne felt something foreign¡ªsomething he had not felt since the war.


    A pressure.


    No¡­ not just pressure. Authority.


    It wasn''t magic, not exactly. It was deeper than that. It was the kind of weight that pressed into the soul itself, the kind that demanded submission without a single word being spoken.


    For the briefest moment, his breath caught in his throat, and his instincts screamed at him to bow.


    Just¡­ just who was this boy?


    Then, as quickly as it had come, it vanished.


    Riven blinked, and the mask was back. His usual smirk returned, his posture relaxed, his tone gentle. "Elder? You alright?" he asked, feigning concern like a perfect student.


    Thorne exhaled sharply, shaking his head. Had he imagined it? Hallucinated it? He wasn''t sure anymore.


    "I¡­" He swallowed, forcing himself to settle. "I''m fine."


    Riven simply nodded, as if nothing had happened at all.


    Elder Thorne studied him for a long moment before speaking again, his voice quieter now. "Just remember¡ªkeep your guard up. Keep suspicion away."


    Riven gave a small, knowing smile. "Of course."


    "Give me your talisman," Elder Thorne said, his voice steady, though his hands trembled ever so slightly as he took the cool stone from Riven''s outstretched palm.


    A faint hum filled the air as Thorne pressed his own plaque against the talisman, mana flickering between them. The runes on the stone glowed briefly before dimming.


    "I''ve added enough merits to grant you a full day on the mana-dense island," Thorne said, handing it back.


    Riven took it, running his fingers over the smooth surface, feeling the subtle shift in energy. He smirked. "Much appreciated, Elder Thorne." With a small, almost playful bow, he added, "I''ll see myself out."


    And with that, the conversation was over.


    As Riven turned to leave, Elder Thorne remained seated, his hands tightening slightly into fists.


    He had seen something¡­ something impossible.


    And for the first time in decades¡­ he wasn''t sure if he wanted to know the truth.


    ¡ªx¡ª


    The door to Elder Thorne''s office shut behind Riven with a soft click, sealing away the tension that had thickened the air inside. He exhaled slowly, rolling the talisman between his fingers as he walked down the dimly lit corridor.


    That conversation had been¡­ enlightening.


    Velmorian. The Shadow Kingdom. Abyssal Flames.


    Thorne had come dangerously close to connecting the dots, yet he hadn''t pushed. Riven wasn''t sure if that was because the old man was truly uncertain, or if he was simply waiting¡ªwatching¡ªto see if Riven would slip up later.


    It doesn''t matter.


    Riven had danced along the knife''s edge before. He would do it again.


    As for now, he still had work to do.


    The quiet night air settled over the mausoleum as Riven and Nyx walked side by side, their footsteps barely making a sound against the ancient stone. The tension from his conversation with Elder Thorne still clung to him like a second skin, thoughts spiraling in different directions.


    Nyx broke the silence first, her voice low but laced with amusement. "That conversation was¡­ intense." She exhaled as they stepped into the main chamber. "Who would have thought there were still stubborn old mages lurking around from the war."


    Her obsidian eyes gleamed dangerously as her fingers curled slightly. "Maybe I should pay him a visit. Finish what was started over two hundred years ago."


    Riven smirked at her audacity but his mind was already elsewhere.


    "How is it that he''s still alive?" He asked, voicing the question that had been gnawing at him. "He barely looks over fifty, yet he fought in a war that ended centuries ago?"


    Nyx came to a sudden stop, blinking as she turned to look at him. "Riven¡­" A flicker of confusion crossed her features. "Did you not know? Once a mage reaches their sixth circle, aging slows significantly. As long as they continue absorbing mana, they remain at that age indefinitely."


    Riven raised a brow. "Huh. Immortality as a side effect of raw power. Not surprising, but¡­" He crossed his arms, mulling it over. "I am a little surprised that the old man''s a sixth-circle mage."


    Nyx''s lips curled slightly. "He hides it well, but he''s strong." There was an odd note in her voice¡ªsomething almost like respect. "Strong enough that it makes me want to fight him."


    Riven chuckled. "Is that so?" Then, as an idea formed, he tilted his head. "What circle does one need to reach to ascend to Varethun?"


    Nyx''s expression shifted, her gaze turning distant.


    "The tenth." Her voice softened, something reverent in her tone. "Velmorian reached it. I remember the exact moment because the ripple of his ascension was felt not only in this world but in the Abyss itself."


    She closed her eyes for a moment, as if recalling something vivid, something untouchable. "He shed his mortal shackles. It was the most glorious sight."


    Then her fingers clenched into fists.


    "But they cast him down," she spat, her voice trembling with something between sorrow and fury. "They rejected him. And though I grieve for what he suffered, is it¡­ is it wrong that I''m also glad? That from that pain, the Shadow Kingdom was born?"


    She turned to Riven then, her expression strangely human¡ªraw, vulnerable in a way she rarely allowed herself to be. "That I was born?"


    Riven exhaled through his nose, his smirk turning wry. "Of course it''s wrong."


    Nyx flinched slightly, but he continued before she could respond.


    "But greed is natural. It drives us, shapes us. And I''ve learned firsthand how dangerous it is to trust someone consumed by it."


    His voice dipped into something colder, something distant.


    Nyx stilled.


    She had never heard him speak like that.


    Not ever.


    For the first time, true fear edged into her mind¡ªnot fear of him, but fear of whatever past he was remembering.


    And then she saw it.


    The way his jaw clenched. The way his fingers twitched ever so slightly, as if suppressing something dark, something twisting.


    A flicker of a frenzied expression crossed his face, like a memory clawing at the surface of his mind.


    Nyx''s throat tightened.


    What happened to him?


    But before she could ask, Riven suddenly exhaled sharply, as if shaking off a phantom grip. He threw his head back, closing his eyes for a brief moment before murmuring, "I must be more exhausted than I thought."


    He inhaled deeply.


    Abyssal flames erupted around him.


    The dark fire coiled against his skin, pulsing, alive. His gaze flickered open¡ªdeep, black voids swallowing any trace of warmth.


    Nyx''s breath hitched.


    That presence.


    It was unmistakable.


    He''s changing.


    Riven''s voice was low, commanding. "Fight me."


    She didn''t hesitate.


    The first strike came fast¡ªNyx lunged, sword drawn, but Riven moved just as quickly. His flames surged in response, intercepting her attack mid-motion. A shockwave burst between them as steel met abyssal fire, the sheer force of the collision rattling the stone beneath them. Sear?h the N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Nyx grinned, exhilarated.


    She weaved through the flickering fire, dancing between the inferno as if it were second nature. But Riven anticipated every step, every maneuver, forcing her into a relentless exchange. His flames singed her skin, but she barely felt the pain.


    She thrived in this.


    Because in this moment, she could see it¡ªfeel it.


    Her King was becoming something more ¡ª something greater, and she couldn''t wait to see what he would become.

 Chapter 51 - 51: Strengthening the Mind

    Riven and Nyx clashed relentlessly, their movements a blur of steel and abyssal fire. Each strike was met with equal ferocity, neither holding back, neither yielding. The chamber echoed with the sharp crackle of flames and the sharp clang of steel meeting unnatural heat.


    By the time they finally staggered apart, their bodies bore the marks of battle¡ªbruises forming beneath torn clothing, shallow cuts tracing lines of red against pale skin.


    But Riven''s breathing had steadied. The storm that had surged within him, the quiet rage that had threatened to consume him, was finally satiated.


    If only for now.


    Riven exhaled, flexing his fingers as the last embers of abyssal fire flickered and faded from his fingertips. The echoes of the battle still lingered in the air¡ªNyx''s sharp breaths, the heat of their exchange, the faint scent of scorched stone.


    Nyx wiped a thin line of blood from her lip with the back of her hand, her obsidian eyes gleaming with something close to exhilaration. She was grinning. She enjoyed this.


    Riven smirked, shaking his head. "Satisfied?"


    Nyx''s grin widened as she sheathed her blade. "For now."


    Krux reappeared then, stepping from the shadows, his arms crossed as he surveyed the aftermath of their spar. He let out a low whistle, his golden eyes flicking between them. "Well, that was something."


    Nyx shot him a glare, but Riven merely chuckled. "Jealous, Krux?"


    Krux placed a hand over his chest, feigning injury. "Always, my liege. I have yet to spar with you."


    Nyx ignored them both, stepping closer to Riven, her expression sobering. "That fight¡­ you were different," she murmured, her voice tinged with curiosity. "You let go, even if it was only for a moment.


    Riven stilled. She wasn''t wrong.


    For those few minutes, he had felt something shift¡ªsomething raw and unrestrained clawing at the surface alongside his growing anger. His abyssal flames had responded, their hunger mirroring his own.


    And yet¡­ he had been in complete control. In fact, he enjoyed it.


    Riven glanced down at his palm, flexing his fingers as if expecting the abyss to still be there, coiling, waiting. But it was silent¡ª dormant once more as if its hunger had been satiated.


    "My liege," Krux said then, breaking Riven from his thoughts. "I''ve managed to compile this ¡ª forgive its messiness, I was in a rush to inscribe it."


    Riven took the messily put together book from Krux''s outstretched hand. Rivens brow furrowed as he felt how mana dense the book was. I flicked open a few pages and saw the hastily scribbled words. He ran his fingers over the letters and noticed that the words weren''t written with ink ¡ª they were engraved.


    ''System, how are skill books made?'' Riven sent out the question mentally, the thought never appearing till now.


    [[ Scanning for data¡­ ]]


    The system responded with a wave of information flooding Riven''s mind.


    [[ Skill Books are created through an advanced Inscription Technique. This process requires a strong mental foundation, precise mana control, and a specially treated medium known as Arcane Parchment. The process follows these steps:


    1.	Mental Projection ¨C The creator must first visualize the skill in its entirety, breaking it down into its core components. This requires a deep understanding of the technique.


    2.	Mana Inscription ¨C Using a concentrated form of their own mana, the inscriber weaves the technique into the Arcane Parchment, fusing knowledge with energy.


    3.	Seal of Permanence ¨C The final step requires a stabilizing mana formation to prevent the knowledge from dissipating, making the skill accessible to others.


    Warning: A weak mind or an unstable mana core can result in backlash, causing permanent damage to one''s cognition or mana pathways. Only advanced scholars or highly disciplined warriors attempt the craft.]]


    Riven blinked, absorbing the information. He traced the engraved words on the page again, his sharp gaze narrowing in thought.


    "You¡­" Riven''s gaze lifted to Krux, his sharp eyes narrowing as he took in the warrior''s appearance. He looked noticeably gaunt, exhaustion evident in the tightness of his features. "You can inscribe?"


    Krux''s grin didn''t falter, though his tired eyes squinted slightly. "Of course!" he declared, thumping his chest with his fist. "I told you, martial artists like me need a strong mind! Inscription''s just another form of discipline."


    Riven''s frown deepened, his skepticism plain. He tilted his head, as if reassessing Krux entirely. The idea that someone as boisterous¡ªand occasionally dense¡ªas Krux could master something as intricate as inscription seemed almost absurd.


    Krux''s smile faltered, his expression twisting into something halfway between offense and wounded pride. "Hey," he muttered, folding his arms. "You don''t have to look so doubtful, my liege. I do have a brain, you know."


    Nyx snorted, and Krux''s jaw tensed before he reached out to ruffle her hair in retaliation. The gesture barely lasted a second before Nyx''s fist slammed into his stomach with a sharp thud, forcing a grunt from his lips.


    What started as a harmless squabble escalated almost instantly. Krux retaliated with a sweeping leg feint, which Nyx dodged with a sharp pivot. In the span of a breath, they were fully engaged¡ªNyx weaving between Krux''s wide strikes, her movements precise and fluid, while Krux grinned through the skirmish, enjoying the challenge.


    Riven sighed, shaking his head as he left them to their antics. He took the book Krux had given him and moved to a quieter corner of the mausoleum, settling down on a worn stone bench.


    With a flick of his thumb, he opened the book.


    [[ You have obtained a Skill Book! ]]


    [[ Skill Book: Strengthening the Mind ]]


    [[ Once learned, you will understand how to access and strengthen your mental power. ]]


    [[ Would you like to learn this skill? ]]


    [[ Yes / No ]]


    Riven''s eyes flickered over the notification, the weight of the decision settling over him. Strengthening his mental power¡­ if this worked, it could mean refining his connection to the undead, extending the duration of his control over Sana, and perhaps even pushing his abyssal flames further.


    He didn''t hesitate.


    [[ Yes. ]]


    Riven expected the familiar sensation¡ªthe gentle lift of his body, the book hovering alongside him, both bound by an intricate web of mana, just as it had been when he learned his previous skills.


    But this time¡­ it was different.


    The moment Riven confirmed his choice, a deep, resonating pulse echoed through his mind.


    The world around him dimmed. The torches lining the mausoleum flickered, then vanished altogether as an unseen force pulled him inward¡ªdeeper.


    For a moment, he felt nothing.


    Then¡ªreality fractured.


    When his senses returned, he found himself standing in an unfamiliar space.


    A void stretched infinitely in all directions, not dark, not light¡ªjust empty. It wasn''t the abyss, nor was it the Created Space Training space ¡ª it was something else entirely. Something raw.


    He was in his own mind.


    Riven took a slow breath, steadying himself. The silence here wasn''t oppressive¡ªit was absolute.


    Then, his surroundings shifted.


    A shape emerged from the nothingness. At first, it was indistinct, but as Riven focused, it solidified¡ªa weathered grindstone, cracked and chipped with age. A foot pedal rested at its base, and the faintest glimmer of steel lay beside it.


    Riven stepped closer.


    An old, rusty sword rested next to the grindstone. Its blade was dulled, edges jagged from time, rust eating away at its once-proud steel. The hilt was worn, the leather wrapping barely holding together.


    It was his sword. Not in the literal sense¡ªhe had never wielded this blade before¡ªbut somehow, he knew.


    This was his mind. And the sword¡­ it was his will.


    A single realization settled over him.


    To strengthen the mind, one must sharpen the blade.


    He exhaled, reaching down to grasp the weapon. His fingers closed around the hilt, and for a brief moment, he felt the weight of it¡ªfar heavier than any sword he had ever held.


    Slowly, he lifted it, placing the rusted edge against the grindstone.


    The moment the blade made contact¡ªpain.


    A searing agony tore through his skull.


    It was unlike anything Riven had ever felt before. Not the burning of abyssal flames, not the raw tearing of mana backlash¡ªthis pain wasn''t physical.


    It was internal.


    Like something was clawing at his very mind, tearing through his thoughts, unraveling the foundation of his own consciousness.


    His vision blurred.


    For a moment, he saw himself. Flickering images¡ªhis past, his battles, the cold, uncaring faces of the Drakar family. The scorn in the maids eyes as they tormented him. The betrayal of his father from his previous life. The pain of rejection, of exile, of being deemed insufficient.


    The weight of all those memories crashed down on him like an avalanche.


    He staggered, nearly dropping the sword.


    His body screamed at him to stop.


    But he gritted his teeth, forcing his grip to tighten.


    This is the test.


    The pain was the rust. The weaknesses. The burdens he had carried all this time.


    And to strengthen the mind¡ªto sharpen the blade¡ªhe had to endure.


    Riven inhaled sharply and pressed his foot against the grindstone pedal.


    The wheel turned.


    Sparks flew as the rusted edge scraped against the stone, the sound grating and sharp. The pain doubled, a jagged bolt of agony lancing through his skull, but Riven did not stop.


    He pushed through it.


    Sparks turned to embers. The rust flaked away, revealing something beneath¡ªsteel, still dull, but purer than before.


    The pain was excruciating.


    It felt like his very existence was being reshaped.


    But Riven¡­ Riven was not weak.


    He had endured torment before. He had been cast aside, abandoned, underestimated.


    This was nothing.


    He ground the blade.


    Again.


    And again.


    And again.


    Each pass over the grindstone stripped away another layer of weakness. Of doubt. Of fear.


    The memories that once haunted him¡ªthe echoes of the past¡ªbegan to sharpen, reshaped and reforged by his own will.


    Until finally¡ª


    The pain lessened.


    The blade gleamed.


    It was still incomplete, still rough, but no longer buried under decay.


    Riven exhaled, stepping back. His vision flickered, the void around him shifting.


    He was returning. S§×ar?h the ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    ¡ªx¡ª


    His eyes snapped open.


    The mausoleum came back into focus.


    Riven was drenched in sweat, his breathing ragged, his entire body trembling despite the fact that he had not moved.


    Nyx and Krux were staring at him.


    Nyx looked slightly alarmed. "Uh¡­ you okay, my liege? You were convulsing."


    Riven let out a slow, controlled breath.


    His mind felt¡­ clearer.


    Lighter.


    He clenched his fists, testing his own focus. The world around him seemed sharper¡ªdetails he would have once overlooked now stood out in perfect clarity. The sensation of noise in his mind, the unnecessary distractions that always lurked in the back of his thoughts, was gone.


    His mental strength had increased. He knew it.


    A notification appeared before him.


    [[ Your mental fortitude has increased! ]]


    Riven''s lips curled into a slow smirk.


    "That is quite the skill, Krux." Riven gasped slightly and a flash of understanding flickered in Krux''s golden eyes.


    Krux''s grin widened, though there was something more knowing behind his usual boisterous confidence. "Told you, my liege. Martial artists aren''t all brawn. Strength of mind is just as important as strength of body."


    Riven flexed his fingers and then rubbed at the stiff muscles at his neck as the last vestiges of the experience faded.


    He noticed the subtle flicker of Nyx''s amused smirk¡ª something he might not have caught before. Now, it stood out as clear as a rune etched in stone.


    "You look different," Nyx mused, tilting her head. "More¡­ composed."


    Riven smirked. "I feel different."


    Nyx arched a brow. "In a good way?"


    "In the only way that matters." He stood, stretching slightly. "I feel stronger."


    He turned his focus back to Krux, considering the warrior for a moment. There was something there¡ªsomething he hadn''t noticed before. Beneath Krux''s usual bravado, there was a discipline. A sharpness.


    This man¡­ is more than he appears.


    "I''ll admit," Riven said slowly, crossing his arms. "I underestimated how useful this would be. You have my thanks, Krux."


    Krux straightened at those words, his entire body seeming to bristle with pride. "Haha! Of course! Leave it to your number one general to provide the best techniques!" He thumped his chest with an exaggerated grin before his expression softened slightly. "But¡­ be careful with it, my liege. Strengthening the mind isn''t just about focus. It''s about breaking down barriers. You''ll see things more clearly, but you''ll also feel more. Remember that."


    Riven absorbed those words, filing them away for later.


    He had already sensed it¡ªhis thoughts were sharper, but so were his emotions. They felt closer, more vivid. More tangible.


    It was something to be wary of.


    Nyx leaned against the mausoleum wall, arms crossed. "So, what now?"


    Riven exhaled, his mind already shifting to the next step. "We move forward. The library''s hidden archives are still my priority. Sana is in place and still remains undetected, and now¡­" He clenched his fist, feeling the renewed strength in his mind. "I have the tools to take this further."


    A smirk tugged at Nyx''s lips. "So we''re finally doing this?"


    Krux cracked his knuckles. "About time."


    Riven''s gaze darkened, his abyssal flames flickering to life around his fingertips.


    "It''s time," he murmured. "Let''s claim what''s mine."

 Chapter 52 - 52: The Infiltration Begins

    The weight of the mausoleum''s silence settled around Riven like a cloak. He closed his eyes, drawing in a slow breath. The sharpening of his mind had granted him an edge¡ªone he fully intended to test.


    With a flicker of thought, he reached outward, stretching his awareness beyond his own body, beyond the walls of the chamber.


    The bond with Sana pulsed in his mind, distant yet clear.


    She was inside the library.


    Standing. Waiting.


    Through the connection, Riven could sense her stillness, the eerie lack of breath, the way she blended seamlessly with the living Acolytes. If he hadn''t known better, he might have thought she was just another servant of the academy.


    Riven inhaled deeply, pushing his consciousness further until something in his mind shifted¡ªan invisible thread tightening. His vision flickered, and in the next instant, he was no longer in his own body.


    He felt it¡ªSana''s awareness.


    The world unfolded around him, not in shades of light and dark, but in pulses of mana. Every object, every structure, exuded its own unique signature, weaving a tapestry of presence and power. The restricted archives loomed before her¡ªnot as towering bookshelves and shadowed alcoves, but as a dense cluster of mana signatures, the knowledge within thrumming with dormant energy.


    So this was how the Acolytes perceived the world. He had always known that their blindfolds were a requirement for serving in the library¡ªa symbol of both privilege and restriction. They had access to the vast knowledge of magic and the kingdom''s secrets, yet they were forbidden from reading a single word with their own eyes.


    Instead, their sight was forged through mana. Deprived of vision, they had cultivated an acute sensitivity to its flow, navigating reality not through light and shadow, but through the ebb and pulse of raw energy itself.


    Scrolls glowed faintly with preserved spells ahead, ancient tomes radiated layered enchantments meant to deter intruders, and the very walls hummed with wards designed to repel unauthorized hands. Every trace of magic left behind by the acolytes was like an imprint on the air, a whisper of movement long faded. S§×arch* The N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Sana moved with careful precision.


    She knew what she was looking for¡ªfiles detailing the hidden archives beneath the academy.


    Riven''s command echoed within her mind:


    "Wait until they''re gone. No witnesses."


    And so she stood, motionless, waiting as time stretched on.


    Footsteps passed, Acolytes whispering to each other as they departed for the night.


    The glow of lanterns dimmed as the last of them exited the restricted section, the heavy door groaning shut behind them.


    Silence.


    ''Now.''


    Sana moved.


    Her steps made no sound as she drifted toward the towering shelves. Her fingers, cold and precise, trailed along the labeled spines, scanning quickly.


    Then, she found it.


    A row of aged documents, sealed with the emblem of the academy''s High Curators.


    She reached forward, her fingers ghosting over the edges.


    A shudder ran through the air.


    A ward.


    Riven, still connected to her mind, could see the delicate threads of mana woven around the files. A passive alarm¡ªnot an active defense, but a detection spell meant to alert the Curators if the seal was broken.


    A lesser infiltrator might have been caught, but Riven had already anticipated this.


    He reached through Sana''s consciousness, guiding her mana, weaving it like a thread through the structure of the ward.


    Unravel it.


    Sana''s fingers moved in precise patterns, tracing unseen sigils in the air. Slowly, the ward began to loosen, its mana shifting under her influence.


    The spell broke apart soundlessly and Riven smirked.


    She lifted the files from their place, slipping them into the folds of her robes.


    Step one was complete ¡ª Now came the real test.


    Sana turned, gliding through the dim corridors of the library, careful to avoid the last remaining patrols.


    She made her way toward the second floor, where private training rooms were located¡ªwhere Riven still had access. She reached the door without issue, using the acolyte keystone to bypass the lock.


    The moment she stepped inside, she moved to the farthest corner of the room, where stacks of discarded books lay forgotten for the day. With careful precision, she slipped the stolen files beneath them, making sure they blended into the surrounding clutter.


    Then, without hesitation, she turned and left.


    The door locked behind her with a soft click.


    Riven''s mind recoiled back into his own body, the sudden shift leaving his vision blurred for a heartbeat before clarity returned. He drew in a sharp breath, his fingers flexing as the weight of the mission''s success settled over him.


    "The files are in place," he murmured.


    Nyx straightened, pushing off the wall. "That easy?"


    Riven smirked. "We''re not done yet. I still have to retrieve them."


    Krux cracked his knuckles, his golden eyes gleaming. "Then let''s not waste time."


    Riven nodded.


    The real infiltration was about to begin.


    ¡ªx¡ª


    The academy''s library was quiet at this hour. Riven moved through the halls with calculated ease, his presence barely registering to the few remaining students still buried in their studies.


    The Acolyte at the entrance barely glanced at him as he passed through, scanning his talisman without question.


    He ascended to the second floor, his steps measured, precise.


    The private training rooms stood in a long, empty hallway. Riven reached for the keystone in his pocket, pressing it against the panel. A soft shimmer pulsed through the air as the barrier recognized his access.


    The door unlocked and Riven stepped inside.


    He moved toward the corner of the room, kneeling beside the abandoned books that had yet to be retrieved by the acolytes.


    His fingers brushed against the edge of the files.


    A faint pulse of magic still lingered over them, an aftershock of the ward he had broken through Sana.


    He picked up the documents, flipping through the first few pages.


    What he saw made his breath hitch.


    Hidden Archives: Sealed Remnants of the Shadow Kingdom.


    A cold chill ran down his spine. His fingers tensed around the parchment, a faint tremor betraying the storm surging beneath his calm exterior.


    Riven''s breath came slow and measured, but his grip on the pages was tight, knuckles pale against the aged parchment. The title alone had sent an eerie shiver down his spine, but it was the words that followed that made his blood run cold.


    After Velmorian''s disappearance, the Solis Kingdom declared the Shadow Kingdom a threat to the stability of the realm. Their armies descended upon its lands, not in conquest, but in complete and total eradication.


    Riven''s eyes flickered with abyssal flames for a split second before he forced himself to keep reading.


    The war did not end with Velmorian. It did not end when the last of his generals fell. The Solis Kingdom did not claim victory when the Shadow Army crumbled beneath their overwhelming forces. No, they continued onward, deeper into the kingdom''s heart, until every living remnant of it was purged.


    A slow, crawling sensation coiled in his chest as he turned the page.


    The civilians¡ªmen, women, and children¡ªwere not spared.


    Riven''s breathing stopped.


    Despite surrendering, despite pleading, despite having no part in the war, they were labeled as ''tainted'' by the influence of the Shadow King. Entire villages were burned to the ground, their inhabitants slaughtered in cold blood. Bloodlines were erased, histories rewritten, and the land itself salted to prevent even the memory of the Shadow Kingdom from taking root again.


    The grip on the parchment tightened until the edges of the page nearly crumpled.


    He had known¡ªsuspected, at the very least¡ªthat the Solis Kingdom had wiped out Velmorian''s forces. But this¡­ this was beyond mere war.


    This was genocide.


    A systematic destruction of everything the Shadow Kingdom once was.


    The next section made his stomach twist.


    Those who showed signs of necromantic affinity were executed on sight. The libraries, archives, and tombs of the Shadow Kingdom were raided, their contents deemed forbidden. All texts, artifacts, and remnants of Velmorian''s rule were sealed beneath the academy in the Hidden Archives, locked away with layered enchantments to ensure that none would ever see the light of day again.


    Riven''s pulse thrummed against his skull.


    That was the true purpose of the Hidden Archives. Not just a vault of knowledge, but a tomb¡ªa place where history was buried. Where the truth was silenced.


    A slow, bitter chuckle escaped his lips. Of course. Of course, the Solis Kingdom, so revered, so proud of its ''righteous rule,'' would hide its sins in a place no one could reach.


    Riven set the file down, his fingers still trembling, though his expression remained eerily calm. The silence of the training room pressed down on him, thick with the weight of revelation.


    So this was what they feared.


    Not necromancy itself. Not the return of Velmorian''s teachings.


    They feared the truth.


    The knowledge of what they had done.


    Riven exhaled through his nose, his expression darkening. His abyssal flames flickered along the edges of his fingertips, curling like shadows.


    His mind worked quickly.


    The Hidden Archives contained more than just forbidden skills¡ªthey contained the very foundation of the Shadow Kingdom. The records, the research and the former skills the shadow king and his court once wielded and taught.


    A treasure trove of power.


    A graveyard of the past.


    The last few documents were schematics of the hidden archive. Riven traced a finger over the information laid out before him. The ink was faded, the parchment brittle, but the information was clear. Beneath the grand library, hidden beyond layers of deception and centuries-old enchantments, the Hidden Archives waited.


    A tomb of knowledge. A graveyard of truth.


    Riven already knew that the entrance was disguised, not behind some grand concealed door or beneath a forgotten stairwell, but in plain sight¡ªbeneath the Acolyte''s desk on the first floor of the library. The very place where the blindfolded attendants processed records, issued tomes, and controlled access to restricted areas.


    A brilliant deception.


    No one would ever suspect that the very heart of the academy''s forbidden knowledge lay just beneath the feet of those who served it.


    His mind sharpened, pulling at the threads of his connection to Sana. She returned, briefly collecting the stolen files and returning them to their section, ensuring their absence would not be noticed.


    After a while, she returned to the front desk on the first floor. Through her sight, he saw the flowing currents of mana that laced the space beneath her.


    A hidden mechanism. A sealed hatch woven with protective enchantments. A lock that no key could open¡ªonly magic.


    Riven''s fingers tapped against his chin. The challenge wasn''t just getting inside; it was getting inside without alerting the entire academy.


    There were layers of wards. Some were passive¡ªmeant to obscure and misdirect. Others were active¡ªalarms that would trigger the moment unauthorized magic tampered with the seal.


    His mind churned.


    A frontal assault was out of the question. Even with his abyssal flames, brute force would trigger every safeguard in place. He needed precision. A way to deactivate the wards without leaving a trace.


    He exhaled sharply and summoned Nyx and Krux from his shadows, "We''re going to dismantle the wards one by one¡ªwithout triggering any alarms."


    Nyx smirked, crossing her arms. "Tch. And here I thought you''d say something reckless like ''burn the whole library down.''"


    Krux chuckled, but there was an edge to his usual bravado. "Alright, my liege. What''s the plan?"


    Riven quickly began to describe the layout to them.


    There were three layers.


    The first was an Illusion Ward, meant to obscure the hatch from ordinary sight. The second was a Recognition Barrier, a spell that only allowed authorized individuals¡ªHigh Curators and key Acolytes¡ªto bypass it. The final layer was an Alarm Seal, a delayed-trigger enchantment that would activate the moment someone attempted to dispel the first two without the proper authority.


    It was a perfect defense. If someone tried to brute-force their way through, the alarm would trigger before they even got past the first layer.


    He had seen how the wards over the restricted archives had been woven. If the Curators used a similar system, there was a way to sever their connection to the larger detection network¡ªturning the alarm into nothing more than a dead spell.


    But that would require precision.


    His mind raced, considering every possible countermeasure the academy might have. Then, finally, a plan took shape.


    "Nyx, you''ll handle the first ward. You''re attuned to shadow magic¡ªyou can manipulate its flow just enough to distort the illusion rather than dispel it outright."


    Nyx nodded, clenching her fists in anticipation.


    "Krux, you and I will deal with the second barrier. The Recognition Barrier is tied to the library''s Acolyte network, meaning we either need to mimic an authorized signature¡ªor break it entirely."


    Krux arched a brow. "You thinking of using Sana?"


    Riven''s lips curled. "Exactly. She''s still an Acolyte as far as their systems are concerned. She can be our key."


    "And the alarm ward?" Nyx asked, eyes sharp.


    Riven smirked, "That one''s mine."


    Nyx let out a quiet laugh. "Of course it is."


    They had their plan. Now, they just needed to execute.


    They moved carefully back to the first floor, Nyx and Krux hidden in his shadow.


    The library was quiet at this hour, the last lingering students having already departed. The remaining Acolytes moved in predictable patterns.


    Sana was at the front desk, unmoving as always.


    Riven tapped into their link.


    "Stand by. When I give the signal, tap into the Recognition Barrier. Just enough to distort it¡ªdon''t dispel it completely."


    Sana gave a silent acknowledgment through their bond.


    Nyx moved first.


    She moved with the grace of a whisper, stepping towards the Acolyte''s desk under the cover of her own shadows. She leaned against it lazily, her expression unreadable, her fingers tracing the polished wood in slow, idle movements.


    Riven saw it through his enhanced perception¡ªshadows seeping from her fingertips, curling like ink spreading through water. They laced through the surface of the desk, sinking into the mana currents that composed the Illusion Ward.


    She wasn''t dispelling it. She was shifting it.


    Rather than forcing the illusion to break, she wove her shadows into its construct, making it respond to her will.


    A heartbeat passed.


    The enchantment flickered, its edges rippling like disturbed water.


    The hatch beneath the desk began to reveal itself. Faintly¡ªonly for those who knew what to look for. To any outsider, the desk still appeared unremarkable. But to them, the spell''s veil had been lifted.


    Nyx''s lips curled slightly. "First one''s down."


    Riven tapped into Sana''s mind. "Now."


    Sana shifted ever so slightly. To the Acolytes nearby, it was nothing¡ªa mere adjustment in posture.


    But to the magic interwoven around the hatch, it was everything.


    She brushed against the Recognition Barrier, her mana aligning with its threads in perfect synchronization. Not to force her way through¡ªbut to mimic an authorized presence.


    For a split second, the barrier hesitated.


    That was all Krux and Riven needed.


    Krux pressed his palm against the desk, channeling a controlled burst of mana¡ªnot enough to disrupt the enchantment, but enough to weaken its structure.


    Riven''s abyssal flames slithered through the cracks, threading into the barrier like dark veins.


    Then¡ªhe severed the weave.


    The barrier crumbled, dissipating into scattered embers.


    Krux grinned. "That''s two."


    Riven crouched, his palm hovering over the hatch.


    The Alarm Seal pulsed beneath his touch.


    Unlike the previous wards, this one didn''t block entry¡ªit was designed to notify the academy''s High Curators the moment it was tampered with. If they failed here, their cover would be blown.


    Riven exhaled, closing his eyes.


    He didn''t just see the ward¡ªhe felt it.


    It was connected to the academy''s security network, an anchor linking it to a distant detection core. Most would try to disable the alarm directly¡ªbut that was a mistake.


    The better strategy? Sever the anchor.


    Riven''s consciousness plunged into the ward''s structure, following the web of mana to its source. He found it¡ªa thread buried deep within the enchantment, pulsing with latent energy.


    A delicate thing.


    One wrong move, and it would snap¡ªtriggering the alarm instantly.


    Riven exhaled and cut it.


    The ward''s mana flickered. Then died.


    No alarm. No signal.


    Nothing.


    It was over¡­ the hatch was unsealed.


    Nyx let out a low whistle. "Damn."


    Krux stretched his arms. "That could''ve been disastrous."


    Nyx tapped her foot against the hatch''s surface. "So? Are we going in or what?"


    Riven''s gaze darkened as he knelt, gripping the hatch''s handle. With a sharp pull, he wrenched it open.


    Beneath them, a dark passage spiraled downward. The air that wafted up was old¡ªstagnant. The scent of dust, parchment, and something else.


    Something ancient.


    Krux peered into the abyss. "Well, this looks cozy."


    Nyx rolled her shoulders. "If we get locked down there, I''m blaming you."


    Riven conjured a small fireball, its flickering glow casting shifting shadows as it hovered above his palm, illuminating the path descending into the depths.


    "Let''s find out what they buried."


    And with that, they descended into the Hidden Archives.

 Chapter 53 - 53: Echoes of the Past Part 1

    The descent was silent.


    Riven, Nyx, and Krux slipped into the darkness beneath the library, the hatch sealing behind them with a soft, final click.


    Cold air wrapped around them, thick with the weight of time. The scent of dust, damp parchment, and stale mana lingered in the air like a ghost of forgotten knowledge. The walls of the passage were tight, curving as they spiraled downward, deeper into the abyss of the Hidden Archives.


    Riven led the way, his flames casting flickering shadows along the stone.


    His mind pulsed with his connection to Sana. She remained stationed at the front desk above, still as a statue, ensuring no one would notice their absence. The deception held¡ªfor now.


    But the air was shifting.


    It was heavier now, thick with something unseen yet undeniable.


    Krux stopped first.


    His usual grin was nowhere to be found. He pressed a hand against the cold stone, his golden eyes darkening with something deep, something terrible.


    Nyx halted beside him, her expression unreadable, her fingers twitching at her sides.


    Riven frowned. "What is it?"


    Neither answered at first.


    Then, Krux exhaled, his voice quieter than usual. "It''s here."


    Nyx''s fingers curled into a fist. "The past."


    Riven''s lips parted to question them further¡ªbut then he felt it.


    A pull.


    It wasn''t magic. It wasn''t a spell or a trap.


    It was something older. Something woven into the very stones of this place.


    The air thickened.


    The world tilted.


    And suddenly, they weren''t in the passage anymore.


    Flames raged in the night, reaching toward the heavens in violent, hungry spirals.


    Screams tore through the air.


    A kingdom, once thriving¡ªwas burning.


    The Shadow Kingdom.


    Dark-cloaked figures fled through the streets, their faces twisted in terror. Mothers clutched their children. Fathers stood, shaking, their bodies riddled with arrows and divine fire.


    But there was no escape.


    The Solis Kingdom''s forces moved like an unstoppable tide, their golden armor gleaming beneath the blood-red sky.


    The warriors of the Shadow Kingdom fought.


    Necromantic magic twisted through the streets, raising the dead in desperate defiance, their skeletal hands clawing at invaders. Dark spells lashed through the air, shattering the ranks of the Solis Paladins.


    But it wasn''t enough.


    For every enemy that fell, two more took their place. The Solis Kingdom had come prepared¡ªarchmages wreathed in holy fire, their spells cutting through necrotic energy like a blade through silk.


    This wasn''t war.


    This was a purge.


    Krux stood at the heart of the slaughter.


    Not as he was now¡ªnot as the reckless warrior who laughed in the face of death¡ªbut as he had been then.


    A general of Velmorian''s army.


    A warrior standing amidst the ruins of his people.


    The battlefield stretched before him, the scent of burning flesh thick in the air. The cries of the dying had long since faded, swallowed by the triumphant roars of the Solis army.


    His sword was shattered. The once-pristine edge was now jagged, chipped, useless.


    Blood¡ªnot his own¡ªcoated his armor.


    His men were gone.


    His comrades, his soldiers, his brothers-in-arms¡ªall cut down before him.


    And he had failed them.


    Krux''s breath came ragged as he stood amidst the carnage, golden eyes burning as he watched the archmages drag the last of the necromancers into the open square.


    Their robes were torn, their faces smeared with soot and despair.


    Their hands were bound in radiant chains.


    There was no trial. No judgment.


    Only fire.


    The archmages didn''t hesitate as they set the necromancers alight.


    Krux did not scream.


    He did not beg.


    He only clenched his fists so tightly his gauntlets cracked, his fury an unspoken vow as he watched his people turn to ash.


    Nyx was there too.


    The royal palace¡ªthe very heart of the Shadow Kingdom¡ªlay in ruins.


    Its once-majestic towers had been shattered. Its grand halls lay in crumbled ruin, covered with smoke and the scent of death.


    She had stood in the throne room.


    A warrior. A general. A guardian of the throne.


    Her obsidian blade was slick with the blood of the invaders, her breath coming in sharp, ragged gasps.


    The last of the Shadow Court lay around her¡ªVelmorian''s most trusted advisors, his scholars, his strategists. Their bodies were strewn across the black marble floors.


    Velmorian himself was gone.


    And with his departure, he had taken a vast reservoir of Abyssal mana¡ªthe very lifeblood that had sustained their people and fueled the might of their armies.


    Still, Nyx had fought on.


    For her people. For her king. For the remnants of what was left.


    Until the Solis Paladins overwhelmed her.


    Their golden-clad warriors surged into the throne room like a relentless tide. Their divine magic burned through her defenses, their radiant blades cutting through armor and flesh as though she were nothing.


    She remembered the pain.


    The unbearable light searing through her veins, tearing away the abyssal power she had sworn to protect.


    Then¡ªthe cold.


    The silence.


    They had imprisoned her, shackled in divine chains, and cast her into the Abyss, condemned to centuries of silence and oblivion.


    Until Riven appeared.


    The visions faded as swiftly as they had come.


    The past retreated, peeling away like smoke until the cold, dark corridor of the Hidden Archives returned.


    But Krux and Nyx did not move.


    Their breath came sharp and uneven, their bodies rigid, caught between then and now.


    Krux exhaled first, a slow, shuddering breath.


    "¡­I had almost forgotten," he murmured, his voice hoarse. Not with anger.


    But with grief.


    Nyx did not speak. She only pressed a hand to her temple, fingers trembling for the barest moment before curling into a tight fist.


    Riven said nothing.


    He only watched.


    This was the truth the Solis Kingdom had tried to bury.


    It wasn''t just about conquest ¡ª It wasn''t just about power.


    They had erased an entire people. A kingdom. A legacy.


    Riven clenched his fists. The abyss inside him pulsed, slow and deep, like a heartbeat.


    The Solis Kingdom thought they had won ¡ª that they had burned away the past. sea??h th§× ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    But the past never truly disappeared.


    It simply waited.


    And now, Riven was here to reawaken it.


    The weight of the past still clung to the air, thick and suffocating. Krux and Nyx stood frozen in place, their breaths shallow, their eyes distant¡ªlost in the horrors they had once endured.


    But Riven could not afford to linger in their grief.


    He exhaled slowly, his flames dimming at his fingertips as he turned his attention forward. The corridor ahead stretched deeper into the archives, its walls lined with ancient engravings, sigils that pulsed faintly with restrained power.


    The knowledge of an entire kingdom lay buried here.


    And he intended to claim it.


    "Move." His voice was low, steady.


    Krux was the first to respond. He let out a sharp exhale, rolling his neck as if to shake off the weight of memories that threatened to drag him under. "Tch. Damn place plays tricks on your head," he muttered, his voice rough.


    Nyx didn''t speak. She simply nodded, her usual sharp focus returning as she fell back in step with Riven.


    The three pressed forward.


    The corridor tightened the deeper they went, the walls pressing in with an eerie, almost unnatural closeness. The further they descended, the stronger the mana in the air became¡ªa silent hum of restrained energy, a presence that coiled around them like unseen eyes watching their every step.


    Then, at last, the passage opened and the Hidden Archives revealed itself.


    The vast underground vault stretched before them, its towering walls lined with countless shelves, each filled with ancient tomes, scrolls, and relics of an era long erased. Black stone columns reached toward a ceiling so high it disappeared into the darkness. The faint glow of suspended orbs floated like dying stars, their dim light barely enough to illuminate the chamber''s vast expanse.


    At the far end of the room stood a single door. Massive ¡ª reinforced with layers of steel and Solis Kingdom sigils woven together in a twisted contradiction of power.


    A Vault.


    The final resting place of the Shadow Kingdom''s greatest secrets.


    "I knew we were coming for the necromancy skill books," Riven murmured as he took a slow step forward, his voice echoing slightly in the vast chamber. "But it feels like we''ve stumbled onto something more¡ªsomething worse."


    Nyx''s jaw tightened, her eyes fixed on the massive door before them. "I didn''t think the Solis Kingdom would keep anything from the Shadow Kingdom. They destroyed everything else¡ªwhy hold onto whatever is behind this door?" Her voice was sharp, but beneath it lay something colder. "It seems they wanted to keep trophies. A reminder of what they did."


    Krux scoffed, his golden eyes narrowing as he crossed his arms. "Hmm¡­ Well, one day soon, they will be reminded of the Shadow Kingdom once more. And when we rise, the world will never forget again."


    Riven barely heard them. Now standing directly before the vault door, he could feel the weight of the magic locked behind it¡ªa presence so immense it pressed against his senses, ancient and unrelenting. The mana pulsing from beyond the steel was unlike anything he had encountered before.


    It sent a shiver down his spine.


    Krux stepped forward, lowering his head slightly. "My liege, allow me." His voice was firm, but there was something deeper in his tone¡ªan unspoken resolve. "You''ve exhausted yourself enough tonight. Let me handle the wards and locks."


    Then, a hesitation. Just a fraction of a second before he spoke again, quieter this time.


    "I feel like¡­ this is my duty. As your general."


    Riven turned, studying him.


    Krux rarely spoke in such solemn tones. For all his boasting and reckless bravado, there was a warrior''s loyalty beneath it¡ªa loyalty forged in the fires of a kingdom that no longer existed.


    Riven nodded and took a step back.


    "Then do it."


    Krux inhaled, steadying himself before placing his hands against the door. His mana surged, gold-tinged energy sinking into the ancient locks.


    As he worked, Riven turned his gaze to Nyx.


    Her fingers were curled into trembling fists at her sides.


    "Are you alright?" His voice was lower now, a quiet question meant for her alone.


    Nyx exhaled sharply, unclenching her hands before crossing her arms. "I feel like¡­ something terrible is behind this door." Her voice wavered, just slightly, before she swallowed it down. "And I don''t know how to prepare for it."


    Riven''s gaze softened.


    "Whatever is behind this door needs to be found," he said. "Especially by me."


    Nyx looked up at him then, her dark eyes meeting his.


    "If I''m to become the next King of the Shadow Kingdom, I need to know everything¡ªthe victories, the failures¡­ the truth."


    Silence stretched between them for a moment.


    Then, Nyx exhaled slowly and nodded. "Then I suppose it''s time for you to learn it¡­ All of it."


    She turned away slightly, and Riven caught the flicker of something in her expression.


    A memory surfaced in his mind.


    That day¡ªwhen she had told him everything about Velmorian. About his rise, his fall, and the destruction of their kingdom.


    But there was one thing she never told him. One truth she refused to speak ¡ª How Velmorian had been destroyed.


    His eyes drifted back to the vault door.


    Perhaps the answer lay beyond it.


    A sharp breath pulled his attention back to Krux.


    "It''s done." Krux staggered slightly, his body drenched in sweat, his hands trembling at his sides.


    Riven reached out, gripping his arm firmly. "You did well," he said.


    Krux let out a breathless laugh and nodded.


    Then, together, they turned toward the door.


    And pushed.

 Chapter 54 - 54: Echoes of the Past Part 2

    The heavy stone door groaned as it swung open, revealing the depths of the forbidden vault.


    Cold air rushed past Riven, thick with the scent of decay and something far worse¡ªsomething lingering. The chamber beyond was vast, stretching into the darkness, the air dense with oppressive mana. Riven''s abyssal flames flickered in his palm, illuminating the towering shelves and rows of scrolls that lined the walls.


    The weight of history pressed down on them.


    Krux and Nyx stepped in behind him, their gazes hard as they took in the vault''s contents. This was the culmination of everything the Solis Kingdom had tried to bury.


    The truth.


    As they moved deeper, the reality of what lay within became clear.


    The records of genocide.


    Scrolls filled with the names of those massacred. Documents detailing the strategic extermination of the Shadow Kingdom''s people. Written orders from the highest-ranking Solis officials, all signed in golden ink, sanctioning the purge.


    Riven clenched his fists.


    These weren''t war documents.


    They were evidence.


    Proof that this had never been about ending Velmorian''s reign or quelling a threat¡ªit was about erasing an entire civilization. Not just necromancers, not just those loyal to the abyss, but innocent men, women, and children.


    Entire bloodlines wiped out.


    Krux lifted one of the scrolls, his fingers tightening as he read. His golden eyes darkened, a muscle in his jaw twitching. "They kept a record of every single execution," he muttered, voice taut. "Like it was some kind of achievement."


    Nyx stood before another shelf, her fingers skimming across a faded tome. She exhaled slowly. "It wasn''t just soldiers. They hunted down scholars, mages, and even farmers¡ªanyone with even a distant connection to the Shadow Kingdom."


    Riven moved forward, stepping past the records.


    Then he saw it.


    At the center of the vault, bound in a web of cursed chains, was a woman.


    She hung suspended in the air, her body wrapped in layers of dark iron, the metal etched with ancient sigils of confinement. The chains pulsed faintly, radiating power¡ªlocking her in an eternal prison.


    Her long hair, once silver, was matted and dull. Her skin, unnaturally pale, was marked with the same sigils carved into her restraints. Despite the centuries that had passed, her body remained untouched by time.


    Nyx inhaled sharply.


    That''s¡­" Nyx whispered, her voice trembling.


    Krux''s fists clenched at his sides, his golden eyes widening in disbelief. "Aria!"


    Riven''s gaze sharpened, drawn to the bound figure before him. His steps were slow, measured, as if approaching something fragile. A strange pull, something deep in his core, urged him forward. He lifted a hand, fingers brushing against the tangled silver-white strands of her hair, pushing them away from her face.


    She was gaunt, her skin pale beneath the dim glow of the vault. Dark lashes rested against hollow cheeks, and her body, though motionless, still exuded an aura of quiet strength¡ªone he recognized.


    The memory hit him like a bolt of lightning.


    The battle he had against all five of Velmorian''s generals. She had been there. An assassin who moved with the wind itself, her blade sharp enough to cut through mana, her presence like a phantom. He had faced her, clashed against her for mere moments when he was forging his second mana circle.


    His breath hitched.


    "She''s¡­ one of the generals?" Riven murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.


    Nyx''s expression was grim. "Yes. Velmorian''s Shadow Assasin. Aria."


    Riven''s hands curled into fists. "Why is she here? Bound like this?"


    Krux suddenly moved, his body breaking free from shock. "Aria!" He lunged forward, his hands reaching for the girl bound in chains.


    The moment his fingers grazed one of the shackles, a violent force slammed into him. Krux was thrown backward as if struck by an invisible hammer, his body skidding across the stone floor.


    Nyx was already at his side, gripping his arm and helping him up. "Cursed shackles," she muttered, her voice tight. "A divine treasure inscribed with ancient magic. They were forged to bind necromancers and creatures of the Abyss."


    Riven exhaled, his gaze drifting back to the chains that bound Aria. The magic carved into the metal pulsed faintly, radiating an oppressive energy. A prison. A seal. A torment that had lasted centuries.


    Without thinking, he reached out, tracing a single finger along one of the links.


    Nothing happened.


    No backlash. No force repelling him. Only the cold bite of metal beneath his touch.


    Nyx''s eyes widened. "Riven¡ª"


    But then¡ª


    A pulse.


    A surge of mana, dark and unrelenting, rippled through the air, not from the chains, but from something beneath Aria''s feet.


    Riven''s head snapped downward.


    A box.


    Nestled just beneath her hanging form, almost as if placed there as an offering¡ªor a warning.


    The moment his gaze locked onto it, his abyssal flames flared beneath his skin, coiling like a beast scenting prey.


    Something inside that box was alive.


    Riven crouched, hesitating for only a moment before lifting the lid.


    A deep wave of mana burst outward, thick and suffocating, carrying with it the scent of something ancient.


    Nyx''s breath caught in her throat. "Be careful, my Liege," she warned, her voice uneven.


    Riven''s fingers tightened on the lid. "What is it?"


    Nyx''s jaw tensed, her dark eyes flickering between him and the shimmering metal that lay within.


    "That¡­" she swallowed, her voice barely holding steady, "is Velmorian''s armor."


    Riven''s heart pounded.


    Inside the box, a suit of dark metal gleamed under the dim light, its surface lined with abyssal etchings that pulsed as if alive. The plates were sleek, fitted for a warrior whose presence alone could command the battlefield. The pauldrons curved like the wings of a raven, the gauntlets clawed, and the chest plate bore a sigil¡ªone Riven had only ever seen in the forgotten records of the Shadow Kingdom.


    Velmorian''s crest.


    A shiver ran down his spine.


    "It''s¡­" Nyx''s voice faltered. "It''s the armor he forged in the Abyss. He inscribed it himself."


    Krux, still steadying himself from the backlash, let out a slow exhale. "No one can wear it," he muttered, shaking his head. "No one but Velmorian."


    Riven didn''t hesitate.


    His fingers reached out, grazing the surface of the armour.


    The metal was warm.


    Alive.


    And then¡ª


    The armour launched itself at him, blacking out his mind.


    ¡ªx¡ª


    Riven stood in a chamber bathed in soft candlelight. The scent of jasmine filled the air and a warm breeze swept through the room from the open balcony.


    Riven realised almost instantly that he wasn''t himself¡­ he was Velmorian.


    His body moved, though it was not his will that guided it. Strong hands¡ªVelmorian''s hands¡ªrested upon the bare shoulders of a woman sitting before him.


    Long golden hair cascaded down her back, her delicate frame draped in silken sheets. She turned around to face Velmorian, her face ethereal and beautiful.


    Information came to him instantly and he knew who she was ¡ª which made this even more confusing.


    This woman was the Crown Princess of the Solis Kingdom.


    "Vel," she whispered, reaching up to touch his face. Her voice was soft, filled with a warmth that felt like a lie.


    He¡ªVelmorian¡ªleaned down, pressing a kiss to her lips, an embrace not of fleeting desire but something deeper.


    Something real.


    "I love you," she murmured against his mouth.


    And he believed her.


    The memory fractured.


    Now, he stood in the throne room of the Shadow Kingdom. Screams from outside began to echo through the walls.


    The doors burst open and y he golden banners of Solis streamed in like rivers of sunlight.


    And at the front of the invading army¡ª


    Her.


    Velmorian''s breath hitched. His love. His future. His queen.


    Draped in radiant armor, a divine blade in her hands.


    His world shattered.


    "Why?" Velmorian''s voice was raw.


    She did not answer.


    She only raised her sword and plunged it into his chest.


    Pain.


    Searing, blinding pain.


    The divine blade burned through his heart first¡ªthen his mana heart.


    His power ruptured. His strength faded.


    The woman who had sworn herself to him, who had whispered love into his ear, had led her armies to slaughter his people.


    Velmorian fell.


    Darkness swallowed him.


    The Shadow Kingdom burned.


    ¡ªx¡ª


    Riven gasped, staggering backward as the memory released him.


    His breath was ragged.


    The vault returned, the heavy air pressing against his lungs. The cursed armor still lay before him, gleaming as if it had never aged.


    Nyx was at his side in an instant. "Riven?" Her voice was urgent. "What happened?"


    His hands trembled.


    The betrayal. The agony. The truth.


    Velmorian had never planned war against the Solis Kingdom.


    He had planned to unite them.


    And he had been destroyed for it.


    Riven''s fists clenched, abyssal flames licking up his arms, twisting and writhing like serpents in the darkness.


    And then¡ª


    He laughed.


    At first, it was nothing more than a chuckle, low and humorless. But it grew, twisting into something raw and unhinged, reverberating through the vault like a haunting melody. His entire body shook, his shoulders trembling as the sound cracked through the heavy silence.


    Krux and Nyx could only watch as their king''s laughter spiraled into something almost deranged, echoing off the ancient walls, filling the air with something both terrifying and absolute.


    "Oh, this is fucking hilarious," Riven wheezed, gripping his stomach as his laughter burned through his muscles. His abyssal flames flickered wildly, feeding off the rage surging through his veins.


    "So this is how Velmorian fell?" His voice dropped, cold and venomous. "The great Shadow King, the feared ruler who nearly reached the peak of power¡ªfell in love with a Solis snake and was betrayed?"


    His laughter cut off abruptly. His gaze darkened, his abyssal eyes seething.


    "How pathetic."


    The last word was spat like poison.


    Betrayal.


    The word echoed in his mind, familiar and bitter, dredging up memories he had long buried.


    "It seems we both suffered such a fate," he murmured, his voice softer now, a quiet venom threading through his words.


    Nyx''s breath hitched. "You¡­ saw?"


    Riven''s smirk was sharp, cruel. "Oh, I saw. I saw your pathetic former king throw everything away for a woman who whispered sweet lies in his ear. I saw him let his kingdom burn because he was too blind to see the dagger aimed at his back." His voice was laced with contempt, with fury.


    Krux''s entire body tensed, his fists trembling at his sides. "Velmorian wasn''t blind!" he snapped. "He wanted peace! He wanted to unite the kingdoms, to end the bloodshed and create a future for both the Solis and Shadow Kingdoms."


    "And he failed."


    Riven''s words cut through the air like a blade, his voice devoid of anything but raw, seething anger.


    "He was cast down from Varethun. Then cast aside by the humans. And yet, he still trusted? Still believed in love? In peace?" Riven''s lips curled, his smirk twisting into something cruel.


    "He built his empire from the ashes, raised a kingdom that even the dragons began to fear, and yet what did he do? He buried himself between the legs of the first woman who batted her eyelashes at him."


    Krux''s rage boiled over. "Don''t speak of our king like that¡ª!"


    Riven moved before Krux could finish.


    His fist shot out like lightning, abyssal flames flaring as Krux was blasted backward, his body slamming into the stone walls of the vault.


    The impact sent cracks splintering through the floor beneath him.


    The air trembled.


    Nyx fell to her knees.


    The weight of Riven''s abyssal presence crashed down like a tidal wave, suffocating, consuming, absolute. The vault itself seemed to quake under his raw, unrestrained power.


    She pressed her forehead to the cold stone, hands splayed out in submission.


    "Forgive us, my King!" she gasped, her body trembling against the overwhelming force of his will.


    Riven said nothing at first. His abyssal eyes burned like dying stars, his presence swallowing the room whole.


    Then¡ªhe stepped forward.


    His hand shot out, gripping Krux by the throat, lifting him effortlessly into the air.


    Krux choked, his golden eyes wide, fingers clawing at Riven''s grip.


    "Do not compare me to that pathetic man," Riven said quietly, his voice deathly calm. His abyssal flames flickered at his fingertips, searing against Krux''s skin, but he did not let go.


    "I will never make the same mistakes as him." His grip tightened, a slow, crushing force. Krux''s breath hitched, his vision blurring at the edges.


    "Because I will never trust." Riven''s voice was quiet, a promise laced with abyssal fire. "I will do nothing but rise¡ªnothing but pursue power, until there is no one left above me."


    His abyssal power pulsed, black flames curling around them.


    "And I will never show mercy."


    Krux''s vision blurred.


    "I will rebuild the Shadow Kingdom," Riven whispered, his voice now an oath, dark and unbreakable. "Even if I must build it atop the corpses of those who stand in my way."


    His fingers tightened for one last second¡ª


    Then, he let go.


    Krux dropped to the ground, gasping for breath.


    He didn''t hesitate. He scrambled to his knees, bowing low beside Nyx, his forehead pressing against the cold stone.


    Riven turned away, his steps slow, deliberate, as he approached the center of the vault once more.


    The armor still shimmered inside the box, waiting. It''s dark every pulsing and rippling outwards as if excited by his approach. His abyssal flames crackled as he reached inside, his fingers curling around the cursed metal.


    It shuddered.


    Then, like living shadows, the armor moved.


    It slithered from the box like a living entity, twisting and coiling around him, piece by piece latching onto his body.


    It claimed him.


    And he claimed it.


    Riven exhaled, abyssal fire flickering through the blackened steel. His power surged, dark and consuming, as the armor settled into place.


    Then, without hesitation¡ª


    He turned to Aria.


    The cursed chains that bound her pulsed, the divine energy woven into them resisting the abyss.


    Riven''s fingers curled.


    And with a single, effortless motion, he unleashed his abyssal flames.


    The dark fire devoured the divine chains as if they were nothing. The bindings snapped, crumbling into dust.


    Aria''s body collapsed forward, weightless, her form frail from centuries of imprisonment.


    Riven caught her.


    His grip was steady, firm.


    He carried her toward the still-bowing generals, lowering her before them.


    Riven''s gaze flickered toward the walls. Shelves lined with forgotten knowledge. Scrolls. Records. The lost history of a kingdom erased from time.


    Then¡ª


    His eyes locked onto them.


    The necromancy skill books.


    Seven tomes, radiating with a familiar pulse, flickering with forbidden power.


    His fingers trailed along the spines before he plucked them from the shelves.


    Then, he turned back to his generals.


    "Once we leave this vault," Riven''s voice was quiet, lethal, absolute, "you will forget that pathetic man."


    Krux and Nyx did not hesitate.


    "Yes, my King!"


    Nyx''s mind was chaos. A storm of thoughts, of emotions she hadn''t yet named.


    When she first saw him, Riven was just a boy! He was someone with potential, yes¡ªbut not this.


    Not this.


    But now?


    Her lips parted, a slow, wild smile curling at the edges.


    She shivered.


    This was the King they had needed.


    Not Velmorian. Sear?h the N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Not a man who loved.


    But a man who would consume.


    Riven came to stand before them, his aura pressing down on them once more.


    Then he lifted his hand and snapped his fingers. Abyssal fire erupted, roaring through the vault. Everything burned. The records. The scrolls. The last remnants of the Shadow Kingdom''s past.


    It was time to erase what once was.


    To bury the failure of Velmorian.


    This was not his kingdom.


    This was Riven''s.


    And this time¡ª


    It would not fall.

 Chapter 55 - 55: Battle of Shadows

    The vault burned behind them.


    Abyssal flames roared, devouring centuries of history, erasing the remnants of Velmorian''s failures. The truth of the past had been laid bare, but it no longer mattered. Riven had seen all he needed to see.


    The cursed armor had claimed him, molding itself to his form as if it had always been waiting for him. Its abyssal engravings pulsed, feeding off the dark flames coursing through his veins. Every step he took resonated with power.


    At his feet, Aria lay still, her body frail from centuries of imprisonment. Her silver-white hair was matted, her once-sharp presence dulled by the weight of her suffering. Yet, even in her weakened state, the mana around her whispered of who she had been¡ªthe assassin of the Shadow Kingdom, the ghost who had once danced through battle with a set of blades like wind.


    Krux and Nyx still knelt before him, their heads bowed. They had learned their place. The past was gone¡ªVelmorian was gone. There was only one king now.


    Riven turned toward the exit.


    "Sana, it''s time." His voice carried through their mental link, quiet but absolute.


    In an instant, he felt her presence sharpen. A moment later, her voice drifted through their connection.


    "Understood, master."


    Above, where the library lay cloaked in silence, Sana moved unseen. Like the acolytes who roamed its halls, she glided toward the sealed hatch, her mana skimming the enchantments woven into the corridors. The wards had already been unraveled once¡ªSana''s touch was all that was needed to guide them aside once more.


    She didn''t break them.


    She didn''t dispel them.


    She simply¡­ bent them.


    A shift so minute it was imperceptible, a whisper in the flow of security. The threads of detection twisted just enough to weave around them, bypassing their presence entirely.


    He lifted Aria''s limp form, draping her over his shoulder with ease. Then, with a flick of his wrist, abyssal shadows unraveled from beneath him, stretching outward like living tendrils.


    Nyx and Krux vanished first, swallowed by the darkness.


    Then, Aria.


    And finally, himself.


    The shadows coiled inward, pulling them from the vault.


    A heartbeat later, they emerged from the depths of the library, slipping through the hatch like a wraith. The air shifted as Riven''s feet touched solid ground once more.


    For now, he concealed the armor within his inventory, avoiding any unnecessary attention. But he knew¡ªwhenever the moment demanded¡ªit would be at his command.


    He gave a brief nod to Sana, who silently set to work, sealing the hatch once more. As Riven stepped out of the library, a quiet sigh escaped him. The weight of the vault still lingered in his chest, a silent acknowledgment that the person who had entered those depths hours ago was not the same one now walking away.


    ¡ªx¡ª


    The mausoleum''s silence greeted him like an old friend.


    Riven stepped forward first. He placed Aria down against the stone, watching as her chest rose and fell in shallow, uneven breaths.


    Krux appeared from Riven''s shadow and knelt beside her, his fingers tightening. "She''s still alive."


    Nyx appeared then and exhaled, rubbing her arms as if shaking off the remnants of the vault''s lingering presence. "Barely."


    Riven studied Aria''s unconscious face. Even in her weakened state, there was something striking about her¡ªsomething dangerous, even now.


    A soft rustle echoed from the entrance.


    Sana emerged, her blindfold in place, her mana shifting like mist around her. She tilted her head toward Aria, her mana-sense picking up the bound woman''s presence instantly.


    "She''s been suffering for a long time." Her voice was quiet.


    Riven''s expression remained unreadable. "Can you wake her?"


    Sana hesitated. "I can try. But the divine chains may have left more than just physical wounds."


    Riven crouched, his abyssal flames crackling in his palm. He reached toward Aria''s chest, letting the fire skim over her skin, testing the extent of her damage.


    She barely reacted.


    He exhaled sharply. "Wake her."


    Sana nodded and knelt beside Aria, pressing her palm against the woman''s forehead. A faint pulse of mana rippled outward, like a breath of wind brushing through the crypt. Even though Sana was now only an Undead Warrior, her power was still impressive.


    The effect was immediate.


    Aria''s body jerked.


    Her lips parted, a sharp inhale tearing through her throat as her fingers twitched. A tremor ran through her, her silver lashes fluttering before her eyes shot open.


    They were a similar silver colour to her hair. But they were unfocused, hazy with the weight of centuries spent in darkness.


    Her breath hitched.


    Then¡ª


    Her body moved before her mind did.


    Faster than anyone could react, her hand shot up, fingers curling around Riven''s throat in a weak but vicious grip.


    A spark of recognition flickered in her eyes.


    Then, the confusion hit.


    Her grip loosened.


    "¡­Who¡­?" Her voice was hoarse, raw from disuse.


    Riven didn''t move, even as her trembling fingers hovered near his pulse. His abyssal flames flickered, but he let her process.


    Aria''s gaze swept over him.


    Over the abyssal flames licking at his skin.


    And then¡ª


    Her breath hitched.


    "¡­Velmorian?"


    The name left her lips in a whisper, filled with disbelief, with a kind of desperate hope that clawed its way into the air.


    Silence stretched.


    Then, Riven smiled.


    It wasn''t warm. It wasn''t kind.


    It was sharp. Dark. Absolute.


    "No," he said simply. His voice was a quiet blade, cutting through the heavy air.


    "I am not Velmorian."


    Aria''s fingers slipped from his throat.


    Riven rose to his full height, his presence looming over her, pressing down like an unseen force against her frail form. In Aria''s eyes, the world behind him wavered¡ªone moment, they stood within the mausoleum, the next, the abyss yawned open behind him, vast and all-consuming. "But I am the Shadow King now."


    Her expression twisted, her weakened body trembling. Emotions warred behind her eyes¡ªrecognition, grief, confusion.


    And then, finally, she bowed her head.


    "¡­My king."


    Nyx grinned, the tension leaving her shoulders as she watched Aria fall into place.


    Krux let out a slow breath, glancing at Riven.


    "¡­What now?"


    Riven''s abyssal flames curled along his fingers, flickering like shadows given form. He produced the seven skill books he had taken from the vault and spread them out on a small table to the side of the chamber.


    "See to Aria¡ªbring her up to speed on everything she''s missed," Riven ordered, his gaze fixed on the skill books laid out before him. "I''ll be focusing on mastering these. No one comes near this place. If they do¡ªdeal with them. Quietly."


    "Yes, my king," Krux and Nyx responded in unison before lifting Aria and guiding her into an adjoining chamber, leaving Riven in solitude. S§×ar?h the Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The flickering candlelight cast long shadows over the tomes before him. He exhaled slowly, his fingers trailing over the aged covers before settling on the one they had sought from the very beginning. With deliberate precision, he picked it up, flipping through the worn pages.


    [[ You have obtained a Skill Book! ]]


    [[ Skill Book: Shadow Clone ]]


    [[ Consume a steady flow of mana to create a flawless duplicate of yourself or a designated target. Can be enhanced to manifest stronger clones. ]]


    Riven''s eyes darkened as he read. Perfect.


    He set the book aside and began to read through the other skills.


    Riven sat alone in the flickering candlelight, the weight of the necromancy skill books before him pressing against his very soul. He exhaled, slow and measured, his abyssal flames curling idly at his fingertips.


    Everything had changed.


    The vault had burned. Velmorian''s failures had been erased. And now, here he was, holding the remnants of the knowledge that had once been lost¡ªknowledge that would shape his rise.


    His fingers skimmed the ancient tomes, each one exuding a whisper of the past. These were not just spells. They were weapons. The final pieces he needed to cement his rule.


    With a sharp inhale, he flipped the first book open.


    [[ Skill Book: Shadow Clone ]]


    [[ Consume a steady flow of mana to create a flawless duplicate of yourself or a designated target. Can be enhanced to manifest stronger clones. ]]


    Riven smirked. A clone of myself¡­ The applications were endless. He could deceive. He could overwhelm. He could be everywhere at once. Perfect.


    Setting it aside, he reached for the next.


    [[ Skill Book: Abyssal Nightmare ]]


    [[ Inflict a nightmarish illusion upon a target, pulling them into a realm of their deepest fears. The strength and intensity of the nightmare are determined by the caster''s mental fortitude and abyssal power. Weaker minds will be utterly consumed, unable to distinguish illusion from reality. Stronger opponents may resist, but prolonged exposure wears down even the most fortified minds. The effect can be amplified through direct physical contact. ]]


    Rivens eyebrows shot up. What an incredibly useful skill! He could torment his enemies with just a simple touch.


    The next book called to him, its aura thick with dark energy.


    [[ Skill Book: Abyssal Requiem ]]


    [[ Call upon the remnants of those who have perished, allowing them to manifest as wraiths bound to your will. The longer the spell is sustained, the more powerful the wraiths become. ]]


    Riven''s grin widened. So the souls of the dead are not wasted after all.


    One by one, he scanned through them all:


    [[ Skill Book: Phantom Step ]]


    [[ A technique that allows the user to shift between shadows instantly, making them untouchable for a brief moment. Advanced users can extend this duration or move greater distances. ]]


    [[ Skill Book: Death''s Pact ]]


    [[ Exchange a portion of your own vitality to temporarily amplify your necromantic abilities. A dangerous but rewarding gamble. ]]


    And finally, the last book¡ªa tome bound in thick, dark leather, pulsing with an eerie glow.


    [[ Skill Book: Soulforge: King''s Dominion ]]


    [[ A necromancer''s ultimate right¡ªto forge contracts with the souls of the departed, binding them permanently to his service. Only the strongest souls can resist this claim. ]]


    So he could finally even bound those who had been dead not only for a few minutes ¡ª but centuries.


    Riven''s fingers twitched as he traced the letters on the page. He could feel the weight of these skills¡ªthe sheer potential they carried. These weren''t just the abilities of a necromancer.


    They were the tools of a king.


    A true king.


    Slowly, he shut the last book.


    He had much to learn.


    He picked up the Shadow Clone book first, determining that was the most needed skill at the moment because it meant he could finally leave the academy without raising suspicion.


    [[ You have obtained a Skill Book! ]]


    [[ Skill Book: Shadow Clone ]]


    [[ Consume a steady flow of mana to create a flawless duplicate of yourself or a designated target. Can be enhanced to manifest stronger clones. ]]


    [[ Would you like to learn this skill? ]]


    [[ Yes/No ]]


    Riven clicked [Yes], and instantly, his body lifted off the ground. Shadows surged from the skill book, twisting around him like a web, their tendrils weaving between his limbs as if binding him to something unseen.


    ''System, initiate Created Space Training.''


    He barely finished the thought before the knowledge from the skill book surged toward him like a tidal wave. Anticipating the onslaught of pain, he surrendered himself to the pull.


    The world shattered.


    Fragments of reality collapsed around him, falling away like broken glass, until he was left in the vast, infinite space of his training realm. The realm stretched outward, endless and consuming, its depths alive with pulsing energy.


    [[ Created Space Training: Active ]]


    [[ Learning acceleration enabled. Increasing adaptation speed¡­ ]]


    Riven exhaled, rolling his shoulders. "Let''s see how this works."


    The void around him trembled.


    A deep rumble echoed from the shadows, vibrating through the air as the realm twisted, shifting into something darker. The ground beneath him cracked, black mist seeping through the fractures.


    [[ Generating Opponent¡­ ]]


    The shadows in front of him flickered¡ªwrithing, distorting, until they began to take shape. A figure emerged, its form unstable at first, flinching as it fought for definition.


    Then, with eerie fluidity, it solidified.


    Riven''s smirk sharpened.


    "Well," he murmured, abyssal fire flickering to life in his palms. "I suppose that makes sense."


    His opponent lifted its gaze, and Riven found himself staring into a pair of abyssal eyes¡ªhis own.


    A perfect reflection.


    A clone.


    His grip tightened, flames licking at his fingertips. "What better way to master a skill that allows me to create a shadow of myself¡­"


    The clone mirrored his stance, abyssal fire crackling in its hands, its smirk an exact match to his own.


    This wasn''t just a fight.


    It was a test ¡ª one he had no intention of failing.


    Riven stood still, his abyssal flames licking at his fingertips, casting a flickering eerie glow over his sharp features. The void stretched around him, silent and infinite. Only one thing stood before him.


    Himself.


    His shadow clone, summoned from the depths of the realm, stood motionless, abyssal fire curling around its body like a living entity. It was identical to him in every way¡ªhis stance, his smirk, the lethal glint in its abyssal eyes.


    And then¡ª


    The clone moved.


    It shot forward without hesitation, its speed blinding. Abyssal flames erupted around its arms, the heat warping the very air.


    Riven barely had a moment to react.


    He twisted his body, dodging the first strike as a fist coated in burning darkness grazed past his ribs. The force alone cracked the ground beneath him.


    Fast.


    His smirk widened. Good. The faster and stronger it is, the faster I learn.


    The clone didn''t pause. It was relentless¡ªjust as he himself would be.


    Another strike. Then another.


    Each attack was precise, powerful. Calculated.


    Riven barely blocked, his arms absorbing the impact as his own abyssal fire clashed against its twin. Sparks danced in the air as the force of their collision sent shockwaves rippling through the training realm.


    Fine.


    If it wants to fight at full strength¡ª


    Riven welcomed it.


    His Scorching Chain ignited in an instant.


    Flaming links of abyssal fire shot from his palm, snaking through the air like a burning serpent, aiming to wrap around the clone''s limbs.


    The clone anticipated it.


    It pivoted sharply, avoiding the first chain, but Riven was already adjusting. The second lash of his Scorching Chain snapped around its ankle, burning into its form with abyssal heat.


    The clone faltered¡ªonly for a fraction of a second¡ªbut that was all he needed.


    Riven moved.


    Abyssal fire surged up his body as he activated Ember Cloak.


    His speed doubled.


    Power surged through his limbs as he dashed forward, his burning fist aimed straight for his clone''s ribs.


    The strike landed clean. A shockwave burst outward as the clone was sent flying, its body skidding across the battlefield, tearing up the ground beneath it.


    But it wasn''t done.


    As soon as it crashed, it vanished.


    Riven''s eyes narrowed. Crimson Mirage.


    A flickering afterimage was left in its wake.


    "So it can use my illusion techniques, too." A smirk played at the corner of his lips. "Then let''s see if it can keep up."


    His abyssal fire surged again as he cast Crimson Mirage himself, his own form flickering¡ªmultiplying. Five Riven''s now stood on the battlefield, all identical, all shifting in and out of reality.


    The clone''s eyes darted between them, scanning.


    It wasn''t fooled.


    It lunged toward the correct Riven with pinpoint accuracy.


    Expected.


    Riven had already prepared.


    Flames condensed in his palm, swirling into a compact, destructive sphere. The heat intensified, the air growing heavy.


    A fiery explosion detonated between them. The shockwave sent the clone flying back again, the blast searing through the training realm. Smoke and embers filled the air as the ground cracked apart beneath them.


    Still¡ª


    It didn''t fall.


    The clone emerged from the smoke, battered, scorched¡ªbut still standing.


    Riven grinned. "Stubborn bastard."


    The battlefield quaked beneath them as they clashed again, abyssal flames colliding in an explosion of raw power. Their strikes came in rapid succession¡ªeach one mirrored perfectly, a dance of precision and ferocity.


    Every time Riven adapted, the clone did too. Every counter was met with another. Every strategy was undone before it could gain ground.


    It wasn''t just a reflection.


    It was him.


    His power. His instincts. His hunger.


    But Riven wasn''t here to fight an equal.


    He was here to dominate.


    His abyssal flames surged, twisting around his arms as he lunged forward¡ªfist crackling with infernal heat. He feinted left, forcing the clone to adjust, before twisting mid-air and striking right¡ªhis fist slamming into the clone''s ribs.


    The clone staggered.


    Riven pressed forward.


    Blackened chains burst from his hand, wrapping around the clone''s arms and legs, locking it in place.


    The clone struggled.


    Riven tightened his grip.


    "You''re strong," he admitted, abyssal fire licking at his fingertips. "But I don''t need an equal."


    His flames flared brighter.


    "I need a shadow that bends to me."


    Riven''s grin sharpened as he placed his fire-wreathed hand atop the clone''s head. Abyssal flames coiled hungrily around his fingers, flickering like starving serpents.


    "Devour."


    The clone''s body convulsed, its abyssal eyes widening in silent agony. No sound escaped its lips¡ªonly the crackling of flames as Riven''s fire sank its fangs into its form. Shadows writhed and twisted, desperately resisting¡ªonly to be consumed, piece by piece.


    The clone disintegrated, its body collapsing into blackened embers.


    Then, with one final flicker, it was gone¡ªleaving behind nothing but ash.


    [[ Congratulations! You have now learned the Skill: Shadow Clone ]]


    Riven exhaled as he prompted the system to return him to reality.


    As the last traces of the shadowy web between him and the book faded, a presence stirred beside him. Nyx had been standing watch, silent but vigilant. The moment the dark tendrils dissipated, she stepped forward, steadying him as his feet met the cold stone floor once more.


    "Congratulations, my king," Nyx murmured, her voice edged with quiet admiration.


    Riven flexed his fingers, rolling his shoulders as he adjusted to the lingering effects of the skill transfer. A dull stiffness clung to his muscles, but nothing he couldn''t shake off. He lifted his hand before him, channeling his newly acquired power.


    Darkness spilled forth from his palm, thick and fluid like ink.


    The shadows pulsed¡ªthen took shape.


    An exact replica of himself emerged from the swirling darkness, its form flickering before stabilizing into something eerily real. Every detail was perfect¡ªfrom the cut of his clothing to the sharp curve of his smirk.


    Krux let out a low whistle, stepping forward with open admiration. "You did it!" He circled the clone, his golden eyes gleaming as he took in every detail. "It''s so real! Right down to the damn smirk¡ª"


    A sharp crack rang through the chamber.


    Before anyone could react, Riven shot forward, his fist driving straight into the clone''s stomach.


    The clone''s expression flickered, its mouth parting in silent shock before it shot backwards, slamming into the chamber wall with a dull thud. Dust trickled from the impact, but the copy barely had time to process what had happened before it began to unravel, its form dissolving back into shadow.


    Riven shook out his hand, watching the last remnants of the clone flicker out of existence.


    "Smug little bastard," he muttered.


    A heavy silence filled the chamber.


    Krux, still standing with his mouth slightly agape, slowly closed it, his brow furrowing.


    Then, a voice¡ªsoft, yet disturbingly composed.


    "A wise decision, my liege," Aria''s voice drifted through the air. It was quiet, almost delicate. "It is always better to beat them into submission before they ever get the chance to fight back."


    Riven turned his gaze to her, brow arching.


    The words didn''t match the softness of her voice, nor the deceptively fragile frame she now carried. There was something darker beneath her silver gaze¡ªsomething cold.


    A slow chuckle rumbled from his chest.


    "I think we will get along just fine, Aria."

 Chapter 56 - 56: The Silver Fang Pavillion

    Riven''s stomach let out a deep, grumbling protest, the sound unexpectedly loud in the quiet chamber. He frowned, irritation flickering across his features. When was the last time he had actually sat down for a proper meal?


    Between the vault, the battle with his clone, and everything else that had consumed his time, he had barely thought about food. He had been running on nothing but sheer force of will¡ªand whatever scraps he had come across in passing.


    Nyx''s gaze snapped to him, her sharp eyes narrowing. "My king¡­" Her voice was quieter than usual, lacking its usual teasing lilt. "When was the last time you ate?"


    Riven exhaled sharply, brushing off the concern with a wave of his hand. "I''ve managed."


    Nyx, however, was not so easily deterred. She took a step closer, her expression darkening. "That''s not an answer."


    She crossed her arms, scanning him carefully. "You''ve barely rested, you''ve been using absurd amounts of mana, and now you''re pushing past exhaustion without even realizing it." Her voice turned firm, an unspoken challenge behind her words. "You''re strong, my king, but you still need to take care of your body."


    Riven''s jaw tightened, but he didn''t snap at her. Because deep down, he knew she was right. Power meant nothing if he burned himself out.


    Nyx sighed, shaking her head. "You should rest, even if just for a short while." Her expression softened just enough for concern to slip through. "Please? Just a few hours?"


    Riven sighed and then nodded his head slightly. "Fine." He said and stretched his limbs. "Help Aria begin to absorb some of the mana here and let me know if she requires any potions to aid her recovery."


    "Yes, my king." Nyx replied, bowing slightly. The other two bowed also and Riven took his leave.


    ¡ªx¡ª


    The second year market district was as lively as ever, bustling with merchants calling out their wares and students weaving through the crowd. The scent of fresh bread, sizzling meats, and spiced broth filled the air, tempting even the most disciplined of appetites.


    Riven had slept a solid number of hours, waking just before dawn. Before bed, he had eaten a simple snack bar¡ªjust enough to keep the hunger from gnawing at him. But now? Now, he needed something real.


    He was just about to make his way toward one of the food stalls when a soft voice called out behind him.


    "Riven?"


    He turned at the familiar voice.


    "Riven! It is you!"


    Ember hurried toward him, her cheeks slightly flushed as if she had been rushing to catch up.


    "So, you''re finally out of training, huh?" She scanned him up and down, arms crossed. "Well? Did you manage to learn those new spells successfully?"


    Riven offered her a polite smile. "Yes. Thanks again for buying them for me."


    "Ah? That''s nothing." Ember waved a hand dismissively, but then hesitated. She rocked back on her heels before clearing her throat, eyes flickering away shyly. "¡­Well, if you really want to say thanks, how about treating your elder sister to some food?"


    Riven sighed internally but kept his expression composed. He had been expecting something like this.


    "I was just about to get something to eat," Riven admitted, his gaze drifting over the various food vendors lining the street. "Do you have any recommendations?"


    Ember hummed, glancing around. "Well, there are plenty of food stalls here selling decent meals and snacks." Her eyes flickered toward a small vendor frying skewers over an open flame before shifting back to him. "But¡­" She leaned in slightly, lowering her voice. "There''s a restaurant just a street over. It''s pricey¡ªbut they serve mana beast meat."


    Riven''s brow arched. "Mana beast meat?" He repeated, intrigued but skeptical.


    "Yes! And it''s not just any mana beast meat," Ember said, her voice brimming with excitement. "They say one meal there can increase your mana by at least ten percent!"


    Riven blinked. If that was true¡­


    "It sounds like a place I should check out."


    Ember nodded eagerly. "But I wasn''t joking about the price. One meal costs at least five rare mana beast cores."


    Riven opened his inventory with a thought, quickly scanning his remaining resources. Thanks to everything he, Nyx, and Krux had gathered, his supply was still more than enough.


    "Show me."


    Ember froze for a moment, as if surprised by his immediate decision, before her lips curled into a grin. "Alright! Come on, I''ll take you there!"


    Before he could react, she grabbed him by the arm and dragged him into the crowd.


    Tch. Did she have to grab his arm every damn time?


    Ember led the way, weaving skillfully through the throngs of students and merchants alike, her grip firm around Riven''s arm.


    The street narrowed as they turned a corner, the noise fading slightly as they approached a more refined section of the market. The stalls were replaced with proper storefronts, their signs polished and elaborate. The crowd here was noticeably smaller, filled mostly with well-dressed students, likely those with deep pockets or powerful sponsors.


    Finally, Ember stopped in front of a sleek, black building with a silver emblem carved into its sign¡ªa roaring beast''s head framed by swirling mana sigils. The windows were tinted, the entrance guarded by a doorman dressed in elegant robes.


    [ The Silver Fang Pavilion ]


    "This is it." Ember grinned, nodding toward the entrance. "You''re lucky I know the owner, or else they''d never let someone dressed like you inside."


    Riven arched a brow but didn''t comment. He wasn''t exactly dressed in rags¡ªhis academy robes were simple but well-kept. Regardless, he didn''t care about appearances. What mattered was if the food was truly worth its price.


    The doorman gave Ember a brief nod of recognition before glancing at Riven, assessing him for a moment before stepping aside. "Welcome to the Silver Fang Pavilion," he intoned.


    As soon as they stepped inside, the atmosphere shifted. The air was noticeably denser, rich with mana. The restaurant''s interior was dimly lit, the walls lined with glowing crystal sconces that pulsed faintly, their luminescence synchronized with the energy flowing through the room. The hum of quiet conversation filled the space, but it was clear that every single person in this establishment was someone of power.


    Riven''s gaze flickered toward the private booths along the walls, their heavy silk curtains drawn shut. He could feel the mana radiating from those within. Some were strong¡ªridiculously so.


    Ember led him to an open table near the center of the restaurant. The chairs were cushioned, the wooden table polished to perfection. A young server arrived instantly, dressed in elegant robes, bowing slightly before handing them leather-bound menus.


    Riven opened his, scanning the contents. As expected, nearly every dish featured mana beast meat in some form, along with elaborate descriptions of their effects.


    [ Wyvern Rib Platter: Increases total mana capacity by 8% for 24 hours. 4 Rare Mana Beast Stones. ]


    [ Thunderfang Steak: Enhances spellcasting speed by 10% for 12 hours. 5 Rare Mana Beast Stones. ]


    [ Abyssal Serpent Soup: Grants temporary resistance to mana corruption. 7 Rare Mana Beast Stones. ]


    His gaze lingered on one dish.


    [ Emberheart Roasted Behemoth: Temporarily enhances overall mana flow and regeneration by 15%. 10 Rare Mana Beast Stones. ]


    Riven hummed in thought. Expensive, but if the effects were real¡­ it was worth it.


    Ember, having already placed her order, leaned forward. "Which one are you thinking about?"


    Riven tapped the Emberheart Roasted Behemoth.


    Her eyes widened. "You sure? That''s one of the most expensive things on the menu."


    "I have enough."


    Ember whistled. "Guess you really did well in the mana beast islands."


    The server took their orders and bowed before disappearing into the back.


    Riven leaned back, taking in his surroundings. His fingers idly traced the rim of his glass as he listened¡ªalways listening. The conversations around him were muffled, but every now and then, a name or a phrase stood out.


    "¡­Chancellor Orven is making moves again. They say he''s gathering support for¡­"


    "¡­The ranking battles this time will be different. Archmage Elara is personally observing¡­"


    "¡­That new comer, that illegitimate Drakar boy¡ª"


    His gaze sharpened slightly.


    Someone had just spoken of him.


    The voices came from a booth across the room, hidden behind silk curtains.


    Ember noticed the shift in his expression. "What is it?"


    "Nothing," Riven muttered, but he continued to listen.


    "¡­they say he''s stronger than anyone thought. Some believe he could challenge the top one hundred soon¡­"


    "¡­If the Archmage has her eye on him, then he''s already beyond ordinary¡­" S§×ar?h the N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Riven resisted the urge to smirk. So the rumors were spreading, huh? Good. Let them talk.


    Their food arrived moments later, the plates set down with meticulous care.


    The Emberheart Roasted Behemoth was plated beautifully¡ªtender, seared slices of crimson meat resting atop a bed of golden flamegrass. A faint heat radiated from the dish, the mana within it pulsing softly, waiting to be consumed.


    Riven wasted no time. He picked up his utensils and ate.


    The first bite sent a wave of warmth through his body, the mana-infused flavors sinking deep into his core. He felt it immediately¡ªa slow, steady surge of pure energy flowing through his veins, his own mana responding to it instinctively.


    Ember grinned as she watched him. "Told you it was worth it."


    Riven swallowed, exhaling slowly. "¡­It''s acceptable."


    Ember huffed. "Tch. Just say you like it."


    Before he could reply, a sudden shift in the restaurant''s atmosphere caught his attention.


    Outside, a burst of mana erupted.


    Riven''s gaze snapped toward the entrance as he sensed it¡ªtwo powerful mana signatures clashing violently, sending shockwaves rippling through the air.


    The restaurant grew silent. Conversations halted, students and merchants alike turning toward the street.


    Riven stood, moving toward the door.


    "Wait¡ª" Ember grabbed his sleeve. "Are you seriously going to check it out?"


    He glanced at her. "Aren''t you curious?"


    She hesitated. Then sighed. "¡­Fine. But if we get caught up in it, I''m blaming you."


    They stepped outside.


    The street was packed with students, all gathering near the center of the market. Two figures stood at the heart of the commotion, their mana clashing like colliding storms.


    One of them was a tall, broad-shouldered young man, his hands crackling with electric-blue energy. His uniform marked him as a top-ranked student in the second year.


    The other was a slender woman, her long red hair billowing behind her as flames coiled around her fingertips. Her expression was calm¡ªtoo calm.


    The moment Riven saw her, he understood.


    This wasn''t a random fight.


    This was a ranking battle.


    A high-level one.


    Ember whistled. "That''s Cain Rotherford and Selene Ashford¡­ both in the top fifty of the second year rankings."


    Riven remained still, his gaze never wavering from the battle before him. Cain''s Thunder Domain surged once more, the sheer pressure of his lightning-infused mana distorting the air, while Selene''s Blazing Lotus bloomed into existence, its fiery petals expanding outward in a deadly spiral.


    Two academy elders appeared suddenly, their robes billowing as they raised their hands, activating a powerful containment barrier around the battlefield. Golden glyphs formed an intricate dome overhead, stabilizing the mana surges before they could spiral out of control.


    The fight continued, the protective enchantments ensuring no stray spells tore through the surrounding marketplace.


    The intensity of their duel kept the crowds captive. Some students murmured in excitement, others whispered their bets under hushed breaths.


    Riven was focusing on the battlefield when a presence approached.


    A younger student hesitated beside him, shifting on his feet. His face was pale, his nervous energy practically radiating off of him.


    "R-Riven," the student stammered, clearly intimidated by the Riven''s mere presence. He swallowed hard before forcing himself to speak properly. "Archmage Elara requests your presence."


    The words cut through the surrounding noise like a blade.


    The air around them stilled.


    Ember stiffened at his side, her fingers pausing mid-motion as she tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.


    Riven barely reacted, save for the faint flicker of abyssal fire along his fingertips.


    "¡­Is that so?" His voice was calm, almost amused.


    The student stood firm, despite the tension pressing down on him. He didn''t dare meet Riven''s eyes directly, his fingers tightening at his sides.


    Silence stretched between them.


    Then, Riven exhaled, his gaze returning to the battlefield as Cain and Selene clashed once more, their spells colliding in a violent burst of fire and lightning.


    "Tell her I''m eating," Riven finally said, the words casual, yet carrying an unmistakable weight. "I''ll visit her later."


    The student''s expression faltered. He blinked once. Then again.


    "What?" His voice came out weak, disbelieving.


    Ember turned to stare at him outright, eyes wide. "You¡ªare you insane?"


    Riven didn''t answer. He simply tilted his head slightly, watching as Cain narrowly dodged Selene''s spear of fire, his counterattack surging forward like a roaring storm.


    The student''s face drained of color, as if he had just witnessed a death sentence being signed. "But¡­ but it''s Archmage Elara¡ª"


    "I heard you the first time." Riven''s voice was patient, but with an unmistakable finality. "She can wait."


    The student looked as if he wanted to argue further but, wisely, decided against it. Instead, he swallowed hard and gave a stiff nod before scurrying away, likely fearing that even standing too close to Riven for too long would bring consequences.


    Ember dragged a hand down her face. "You''re going to get yourself killed one day, I swear."


    Riven smirked slightly. "If I do, it won''t be because I refused a meal."


    She groaned. "I hope you have an actual reason for doing this and not just because you want to test how far you can push an Archmage''s patience."


    He didn''t answer.


    He did have a reason.


    A very good one.


    Elara had been watching him for a while now, ever since she had declared herself his new instructor. But something was off. Her timing, her sudden shift in interest¡ªwhy now, after all this time?


    More importantly¡ªwhy now, after he had discovered the vault?


    Her request for his presence wasn''t a coincidence and Riven didn''t like being summoned like a subordinate.


    If Elara wanted something from him, she could wait ¡ª Riven wouldn''t come running like a dog to its master every time she called for him.


    The battlefield crackled once more as Cain and Selene reached the final moments of their duel. Cain''s mana surged violently as he pulled the very lightning from the sky, condensing it into a single devastating Thunderstrike.


    Selene didn''t back down.


    She raised both hands, her Blazing Lotus folding in on itself before exploding outward in a pillar of flame.


    Their spells collided.


    A thunderous boom erupted within the containment barrier, causing the elders maintaining it to reinforce the structure with layered spells. The shockwave sent ripples through the air, forcing the watching students to shield their faces from the sheer force of their clashing mana.


    When the light faded, Cain remained standing.


    Selene had dropped to one knee, breathing hard.


    One of the elders finally stepped forward, raising a hand.


    "The match is decided," the elder announced, his voice carrying across the marketplace. "Cain Rotherford retains his rank."


    The murmurs among the spectators began immediately.


    Selene exhaled sharply but didn''t argue. She simply clenched her fists before rising to her feet, offering Cain a curt nod before turning away.


    Cain rolled his shoulders, looking completely unbothered. "Good fight."


    Riven turned away, uninterested in the aftermath.


    Ember let out a low whistle. "Damn. The top fifty really are monsters."


    He said nothing. Eventually, they would all be beneath him.


    Without another word, he stepped back into The Silver Fang Pavilion, leaving the murmuring crowd behind.


    ¡ªx¡ª


    The restaurant''s calm ambiance was a stark contrast to the chaos outside. Though a few diners were still whispering about the fight, most had returned to their meals, the air once again filled with the scent of mana-infused delicacies.


    Riven resumed his seat, expression impassive as the server immediately approached, refilling his drink with a respectful bow.


    His plate had gone cold.


    He frowned slightly before waving the server over again.


    "Bring me another one," he ordered. "And two more dishes¡ªThunderfang Steak and Golden Serpent Soup."


    The server hesitated for only a fraction of a second before bowing once more. "At once, my lord."


    Across from him, Ember nearly choked on her drink.


    "Two more?" she spluttered. "Are you seriously eating enough for an entire battalion?"


    Riven picked up his utensils, cutting into his food with precision. "Why not?"


    Ember blinked. "You must have a lot of mana cores now, huh?"


    He merely shrugged, taking another bite.


    The Thunderfang Steak arrived first, its mana-infused properties sending subtle jolts through his body, sharpening his senses. The Golden Serpent Soup followed, the rich broth settling into his mana circuits with a pleasant, slow-burning warmth.


    By the time he finished, he could already feel the difference.


    The additional mana surged within him, his control over his abyssal energy feeling smoother, more refined.


    Satisfied, he leaned back slightly, exhaling slowly.


    Ember watched him with an amused expression. "Alright, now that you''re finally done, are you going to go see Elara, or are you planning to keep her waiting until tomorrow?"


    Riven tilted his head, considering.


    Then, after a long pause, he stood, tossing a handful of mana beast cores onto the table to cover the bill.


    "No." Riven''s voice was calm, almost dismissive. Then, slowly, a grin spread across his face¡ªa sharp, almost feral smile, edged with something dangerously unhinged.


    "Now," he murmured, abyssal flames flickering at his fingertips, "I want to fight."

 Chapter 57 - 57: Cedric Alburn Rank 199

    "What?!" Ember sputtered, scrambling to keep up with him. "What do you mean fight? Fight who?!"


    Riven didn''t answer. His pace was steady, purposeful as he moved through the thickening crowd. Students murmured as he passed, some stepping aside instinctively, sensing the shift in the air around him.


    He reached the academy''s Record of Power, the massive monolith standing at the heart of the training grounds. The names etched into its surface glowed faintly, their positions shifting constantly as battles were fought and ranks were won or lost.


    Riven''s gaze swept over the rankings until he found his name¡ªstill near the bottom at Rank 218. He exhaled through his nose, his expression unreadable.


    Then, without hesitation, his eyes moved upward, scanning the names twenty places above him¡ªthe limit of who he was eligible to challenge.


    Riven frowned as he noticed Cole''s name was now at 186. He must have done some serious training since Riven beat him up.


    His eyes then flicked across the monolith, the names shifting and pulsing with faint light. Rank 198. Lucas Veltain. Ember noticed his line of eyesight and began to funnel him information ¡ªhe was a second-year specializing in wind magic, fast and agile, but ultimately just another stepping stone.


    No.


    Rank 203. Darius Grell. A brute-force brawler who infused raw mana into his fists. Not interesting.


    Riven''s gaze moved higher, until it finally landed on a name that made him pause.


    Rank 199. Cedric Alburn.


    A known duelist who had just secured his rank after a brutal win against another student. He was skilled, but more importantly¡ªhe was arrogant. Overconfident. The kind of opponent who would underestimate someone below him.


    Perfect.


    Riven smirked.


    "This one," he said, tapping Cedric''s name on the monolith.


    Ember groaned. "You''re seriously want to fight him?" She glanced at the ranking again and winced. "Cedric isn''t weak, you know."


    Riven rolled his shoulders, unfazed. "I know¡ª neither am I."


    Ember sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Alright, alright. If you''re really going to challenge someone, you can report to the elder stationed at the training grounds. Pay five mana beast cores, and they''ll summon your opponent."


    Riven nodded. Simple enough.


    As they made their way toward the duelling platforms, word began to spread. Whispers rippled through the crowd like wildfire¡ªstudents catching onto the fact that someone was issuing a formal challenge. By the time they reached the elder, a small crowd had already begun gathering.


    The stationed elder, a middle-aged man with graying hair, looked up as Riven approached. His eyes flicked to the glowing monolith, then back to Riven.


    "You wish to issue a challenge?" His voice was calm, but the weight behind it was undeniable.


    Riven withdrew five mana beast cores from his inventory, letting them drop into the Elder''s open palm.


    "Yes," he said smoothly. "Cedric Alburn number 199."


    The Elder studied him for a long moment before nodding. He lifted his hand, pressing his palm against the monolith. A pulse of golden mana spread outward, and the message was sent.


    A formal summons.


    The crowd stirred.


    "Oh, this is going to be good¡­"


    "Cedric''s been itching to fight again."


    "I don''t think this Riven guy stands a chance."


    Riven ignored the noise. He stood motionless, waiting.


    Minutes passed.


    Then, heavy footsteps echoed through the training grounds.


    Cedric arrived.


    He was tall and well-built. His short blond hair was tousled, his emerald eyes gleaming with amusement as he took in the scene.


    "You''re the one who challenged me?" Cedric scoffed, crossing his arms. "Really? You''re not even close to breaking into the one hundreds."


    Riven tilted his head slightly, expression unreadable. "Are you accepting or not?"


    Cedric smirked. "You must be desperate to climb the ranks. Fine. I''ll humor you."


    The elder stepped forward. "Both fighters, prepare yourselves."


    A shimmering barrier erupted around the training grounds, forming a protective dome. Several elders had arrived now, reinforcing the field to ensure no damage leaked outside the combat zone.


    The crowd pressed closer, eager to watch.


    Riven stepped onto the battlefield, his abyssal flames already curling beneath his skin, itching to be released.


    Cedric cracked his knuckles, his mana flaring to life¡ªa swirling mix of fire and wind. Sparks crackled through the air as flames twisted into razor-sharp currents.


    "You should''ve challenged someone weaker," Cedric said, rolling his shoulders. "Because I''m going to¡ª"


    Riven moved.


    His abyssal flames erupted.


    Black fire exploded outward in a violent surge, licking at the air, swallowing the arena in its searing void. The very ground beneath him blackened, the sheer force of his mana rippling like a storm.


    The entire crowd froze.


    Gasps rang through the air.


    "What the hell¡ª?!"


    "His fire¡ªit''s black?!"


    "That''s not just normal flames¡ª"


    An uproar broke out almost instantly. Students whispered, shouted, speculated.


    Cedric''s smirk vanished. His gaze darted between the abyssal flames flickering around Riven. His stance shifted, suddenly more cautious.


    The elders on the sidelines exchanged unreadable glances.


    Riven tilted his head, watching the reactions unfold.


    Hysteria over something so simple.


    "They''re just flames," he said flatly, his voice cutting through the chaos. "What? Black flames are enough to scare all of you like this?."


    Silence stretched for a heartbeat.


    Then¡ª


    A new presence arrived.


    A powerful, suffocating wave of mana pressed down on the training grounds.


    The murmurs died instantly.


    The crowd parted and Archmage Elara stepped forward.


    Her violet robes billowed slightly, the gold embroidery catching the light. Her dark purple eyes locked onto Riven with sharp interest, and though her expression remained composed, the weight of her scrutiny was undeniable.


    "Well," she said lightly. "That''s certainly an interesting flame."


    The tension in the air was suffocating.


    "Well?" She spread her gloved hands, a smirk tugging at her lips. "Go on, then. Continue."


    Riven smirked as he face Cedric once more. They stood on opposite ends of the dueling platform, their mana crackling in the charged atmosphere. Cedric hesitated for only a moment, but it was enough for Riven to chuckle.


    He''s already shaken.


    Riven wasted no time. He surged forward, abyssal flames exploding from his body, his black fire twisting and writhing like sentient creatures hungry for destruction. The ground beneath him cracked as he closed the distance in an instant.


    Cedric snapped out of his momentary daze, his instincts kicking in. He thrust his hands forward, wind and fire mana surging together. A whirlwind of searing flames erupted between them, meant to force Riven back.


    But Riven didn''t slow.


    His abyssal flames devoured the incoming fire, swallowing the heat like an endless void. He stepped through Cedric''s attack as if it was nothing, his smirk widening into something unhinged.


    Cedric''s eyes widened in horror. sea??h th§× N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "What¡ª?"


    Riven''s fist shot forward as he activated Crimson Mirage. The image of his attack flickered, multiple afterimages forming around Cedric. Unable to discern the real strike, Cedric flinched and braced himself.


    A mistake.


    Riven''s real attack slammed into his ribs, abyssal fire detonating upon impact.


    Cedric was sent flying across the arena, his body skidding against the reinforced platform. He coughed, struggling to rise, his breathing ragged.


    The crowd was deathly silent.


    Then, whispers broke out.


    "He walked through Cedric''s spell¡ª"


    "What kind of fire is that?!"


    "His mana¡ªit feels strange."


    Cedric pushed himself to his feet, gritting his teeth. He lifted his hands, his mana flaring wildly.


    A massive wave of wind and fire erupted from his palms, swirling into a typhoon of destruction. The flames spun rapidly, empowered by his wind element, turning into a spiraling inferno.


    It roared toward Riven.


    But Riven merely lifted a single hand.


    His abyssal flames pulsed.


    Then¡ªDevour.


    The moment Cedric''s attack reached him, it vanished.


    Riven''s black flames consumed it, tearing the mana apart as if it had never existed. The powerful attack that should''ve shaken the battlefield was reduced to nothing.


    Cedric stumbled backward in disbelief. "¡­That''s impossible."


    Riven sighed, tilting his head. "You talk too much."


    He moved again.


    Faster.


    Cedric barely had time to react before Riven appeared before him, his abyssal fire flaring.


    Riven''s palm met Cedric''s chest.


    Scorching Chain.


    Flaming chains erupted from his hand, wrapping around Cedric''s body, binding him in place. Cedric struggled, but the fire licked at his skin, draining his mana every time he resisted.


    Riven leaned in slightly, his voice calm.


    "You lost the moment you underestimated me."


    Then, he released.


    The abyssal flames surged in a final, overwhelming burst.


    Cedric screamed as his body was hurled backward, slamming into the reinforced barrier. The golden containment field trembled from the force, but it held.


    Cedric collapsed onto the ground, unmoving.


    Silence.


    The crowd was utterly stunned.


    The Elder overseeing the duel finally stepped forward, his expression unreadable. "Winner¡ªRiven."


    A heartbeat later, the crowd exploded into an uproar.


    "That¡ªhe¡ªhe destroyed Cedric!"


    "What was that black fire?!"


    "Did you see how it ate mana?! That''s not normal!"


    "He just jumped from Rank 218 to 199 in an instant¡ª!"


    The energy in the air was thick, overwhelming. Whispers and shouts filled the training grounds as students debated what they had just witnessed.


    But Riven ignored all of it.


    He dismissed his abyssal flames, turning away from Cedric''s unconscious form as if nothing had happened. His expression was calm, composed.


    Unbothered.


    But someone was watching him very closely.


    Archmage Elara.


    She stepped forward, her violet robes catching the light, her sharp eyes locked onto him.


    Riven felt the weight of her gaze¡ªcalculating, searching.


    She knew.


    Even though she hadn''t said a word yet, he could tell.


    She knew his flames were different. That they weren''t just "stronger fire." That they weren''t something normal.


    But¡ª


    She turned to the watching crowd, her voice ringing clear.


    "There is no need for this hysteria," she said smoothly. "His fire is simply a product of enhanced mana control. Fire magic is adaptable¡ªits color shifts with power, and his has simply evolved."


    Riven narrowed his eyes slightly.


    She was lying.


    Not to him¡ªbut to everyone else.


    The students quieted slightly, but unease still hung in the air.


    Elara turned back to him, her smirk faint. "Come, Riven."


    It wasn''t a request.


    It was an order.


    He exhaled slowly before stepping off the dueling platform, following her as she led him away from the training grounds.


    The whispers continued behind them, but none dared stop them.


    And as Riven walked alongside the Archmage, he knew one thing for certain.


    She had questions. A lot of them.

 Chapter 58 - 58: The Archmage’s Inquiry

    The air between them was thick with unspoken tension. Riven followed Archmage Elara through the training grounds, leaving behind the still-buzzing crowd. Every step felt like it carried weight, but he kept his expression neutral, his hands slipping into his pockets as if he weren''t being personally escorted by one of the most powerful figures in the academy.


    Elara didn''t speak immediately, her violet robes billowing behind her as she moved with purpose. She led him away from the open areas, past towering structures and quiet hallways, until finally, they arrived at an isolated courtyard deep within the academy grounds.


    A soft breeze rustled the leaves of the trees lining the space, their faint glow casting a gentle light over the cobblestone path. It was peaceful¡ªan eerie contrast to the battle that had just taken place.


    Elara finally stopped, turning to face him.


    "You never cease to surprise, Riven." Her voice was smooth, composed, but there was an unmistakable sharpness beneath the surface. "Black flames with the ability to devour mana as if it were nothing. Can you explain that to me?"


    Riven let a smirk tug at his lips, his abyssal flames flickering over his knuckles like restless shadows. "I thought you said it yourself¡ªthey''re just fire."


    Elara didn''t look amused. Her violet eyes sharpened, scrutinizing every flicker of expression that crossed his face. "You''re already under watch because of that necromancy skill." Her voice was calm, but there was weight behind it, a warning wrapped in silk. "I''m sure you''ve been told to keep a low profile, to avoid drawing unnecessary suspicion. And yet, you go out of your way to showcase these flames?"


    A soft glow pulsed in her irises, the faint hum of mana gathering around her as she continued. Then, she spoke again, and her words hit harder than any spell.


    "You might as well stand in the center of the academy and announce that you''re a necromancer."


    The courtyard fell silent. The wind rustled the leaves, but neither of them moved.


    Riven''s smirk didn''t falter. If anything, it grew more insufferable. He shrugged, the picture of casual indifference. "I have no idea what you''re talking about." His tone was equal parts smug and lazy, like he couldn''t be bothered with the conversation at all. "I only use fire mana. You know the necromancy book was forced onto me in the third trial."


    Elara didn''t react immediately. She only tilted her head slightly, and for some reason, that was more unsettling than if she had called his bluff outright.


    "Riven," she said at last, her voice soft, but sharp enough to cut through steel. "Do you really think that I, an Archmage of this academy, wouldn''t recognize Abyssal flames when I see them?"


    His smirk faltered¡ªjust slightly.


    She noticed.


    "Elder Thorne reported it to me the moment he recognized them," she continued, arms crossing over her chest. "Your flames aren''t just unusual. They''re dangerous. And you know it."


    Riven exhaled, dragging a hand through his hair. "That old fossil doesn''t know what he''s talking about."


    Elara raised an eyebrow.


    "Fine, fine!" He scowled, throwing up a hand in mock surrender. "Even though I haven''t used the necromancy skill, it''s still screwing with my mana. That''s why my flames are¡ªwhatever the hell they are now." He rolled his shoulders, his expression shifting to something more nonchalant. "It made my fire stronger, so what''s the harm in it?"


    A perfect lie. Smooth, effortless.


    Elara watched him for a long moment, unreadable.


    Then, to his surprise¡ªshe smirked.


    "I see," she murmured.


    But something in her gaze told him that she wasn''t fooled. Not for a second.


    Elara''s smirk lingered, but her eyes held something deeper¡ªcalculated amusement, sharp enough to carve through the space between them. She let the silence stretch, watching him like a puzzle she had almost, but not quite, solved.


    Riven said nothing, letting the moment hang. He wasn''t foolish enough to fill the quiet with unnecessary words.


    Finally, she exhaled, tilting her head slightly. "You know," she mused, "for someone who claims to have no idea what I''m talking about, you''re rather quick to defend yourself."


    Riven merely grinned. "I like to be thorough."


    Elara chuckled¡ªa soft, knowing sound. "And I like to be informed." Her fingers twitched slightly, and in an instant, a sigil of deep violet light formed between them. Ancient, intricate runes spun in a slow, deliberate orbit.


    Riven''s instincts tensed.


    He recognized that kind of spellwork¡ªit wasn''t an attack, but something more insidious. A truth-binding spell. A method high-ranking mages used to extract answers without forcing compliance outright.


    His expression didn''t change, but deep down, he was already preparing countermeasures.


    Elara''s gaze flicked to him, catching the briefest flicker of tension in his posture.


    Interesting.


    The sigil pulsed once before fading.


    She hadn''t activated it.


    Riven raised an eyebrow. "That was dramatic."


    Elara smiled, but there was something else there¡ªan unspoken test, a quiet challenge. "I wanted to see how you''d react." She let her arms fall to her sides, stepping closer, though there was no hostility in her movement. "Relax, Riven. If I wanted to force the truth from you, I would have done so already."


    He held his ground, unmoving. "Then why drag me here? If all you wanted was to ask me questions, you could''ve done that back at the training grounds."


    Elara hummed, considering. "Because I don''t trust public settings for conversations like this," she admitted. "And because, despite how much you pretend otherwise, I think you already know why I''m concerned."


    Riven gave a half-shrug. "I can take a guess."


    She studied him for another moment, then sighed. "I don''t intend to paint a target on your back, Riven. But you are making things¡­ difficult."


    "I''d argue I make things interesting."


    She rolled her eyes. "Oh, no doubt." Then, her expression shifted into something more serious. "But interesting isn''t always safe."


    For the first time since the conversation began, something in her voice wavered¡ªnot weakness, but something like genuine concern. Not just for the academy, but for him.


    That surprised him, considering she was the same person who had once offered to chain him to the king like a dog on a leash.


    "Listen to me," she continued. "You''ve already gained attention. Not just from me. Not just from the elders. There are others watching. And they aren''t as patient as I am."


    Riven''s smirk hardened slightly, but he already knew who it was. "Who?"


    Elara didn''t answer immediately. Instead, she extended her hand.


    For a moment, he thought she was offering some kind of pact.


    Then, shadows swirled in her palm, forming a single, rolled parchment.


    A summons.


    Riven frowned. "What''s this?"


    "A royal summons," Elara stated plainly. "One I suggest you take very seriously."


    Riven reached for the parchment but hesitated just before his fingers made contact. His gaze flicked up to meet hers. "And if I choose not to go?"


    Elara''s smirk deepened, but this time, there was an edge to it¡ªsomething cold, something final. "Then I''d be terribly saddened to see my student meet such a tragic end."


    Riven exhaled sharply before snatching the scroll from her grasp. The message was clear. If he ignored the summons, he wouldn''t live to regret it.


    Bastards.


    "Is that all?" he asked, irritation bleeding into his voice. "Or do you have more cryptic warnings to throw at me?"


    Elara merely chuckled, stepping back and folding her arms. Amusement danced in her violet eyes. "That''s all. You have tomorrow to prepare. Then, on Friday, you will attend the royal summons with me." Her smirk widened. "Don''t be late."


    Riven didn''t bother responding. He merely scoffed, turning on his heel and striding away, the summons clutched tightly in his grip.


    As he passed through the quiet courtyard, his voice was little more than a mutter under his breath.


    "Old hag."


    ¡ªx¡ª


    Riven strode through the academy''s dimly lit pathways, the royal summons clutched tightly in his grip. He wasn''t foolish enough to walk into this unprepared. Whatever justification they gave for summoning him, it was nothing more than a thinly veiled trial¡ªa test of control. The king wanted him leashed, and Riven had no intention of being anyone''s pawn.


    If they were going to force his hand, then he would make sure it was on his terms.


    By Friday, he would know exactly who held the strings in this game. And more importantly, how to cut them.


    And for that, he needed his people.


    By the time he reached the mausoleum, the air had shifted, thick with dark mana. The torches lining the underground walls flickered with eerie blue flames, responding to his presence. The stone chambers remained cold, the scent of age and death lingering in the dim corridors.


    His three generals¡ªNyx, Krux, and Aria¡ªstood waiting in the central chamber, Sana lingering at the entrance like a wraith in the dark.


    The moment he entered, Nyx''s golden eyes flickered with curiosity. "You''re back earlier than I expected," she said, stepping forward. "And looking more irritated than usual."


    Krux smirked. "Let me guess¡ªsomeone pissed you off."


    Aria simply tilted her head, arms crossed as she studied him. "What happened?"


    Riven exhaled sharply, tossing the scroll onto the nearby stone table. "A royal summons."


    The atmosphere in the mausoleum thickened as the implications of the summons settled over them. The torches along the walls flickered with an unnatural intensity, responding to the pulse of abyssal energy in the chamber.


    Nyx crossed her arms, her golden eyes narrowing. "So the Solis King is making his move."


    Riven exhaled through his nose, fingers drumming against the edge of the table. "Not just him. This isn''t a simple summons¡ªit''s a test. They want to see if I''ll kneel, if I can be controlled." His voice dropped slightly, a dangerous edge creeping in. "And if not, they''ll have contingencies."


    Aria''s silver gaze darkened. "Binding magic."


    Riven''s fingers curled into a fist. "Most likely." He had overheard the king before, speaking to his closest circle about leashing him like a dog. A binding spell¡ªone that would strip him of his own free will, ensuring that his life was tied to the throne. If the spell was placed, the king could kill him on a whim.


    "I need leverage," Riven continued, his tone even but sharp. "This summons isn''t just about me¡ªit''s about control. If they think they can keep me in check, they''ll try to put me in a corner. I won''t give them the chance."


    Nyx''s lips curled into something between a smirk and a sneer. "You want us to find out who has the real power in this gathering."


    Riven nodded. "Exactly. I need names. The main ones attending, the ones with the authority to tip the balance. If they have disputes, ambitions, weaknesses¡ªI want to know everything."


    Krux cracked his knuckles, a grin stretching across his face. "So, we''re digging up dirt."


    "Not just dirt." Aria''s voice was smooth, controlled. "We''re setting the stage."


    Nyx leaned forward, resting her hands on the table. "I''ll handle the noble factions. If they''re using you for something bigger, then the power shifts among them will tell me why."


    Krux stretched lazily. "I''ll hit the underground networks. There''s always someone willing to talk for the right price¡ªor persuasion."


    Aria''s silver eyes glowed faintly. "I''ll go straight to the palace district and see if I can find out any info there."


    Riven then turned to Sana, who had remained silent, her blindfolded gaze unreadable. "And you?"


    Sana tilted her head, as if listening to something beyond the room. "I will head back to the library and listen to the what the acolytes whisper."


    Riven smirked. "Good."


    With that, his generals dispersed, each fading into the shadows, slipping into the night with their respective tasks.


    Now, onto his own preparations.


    Riven moved through the dimly lit streets of the market district, ignoring the lingering whispers and glances sent his way. His name had spread far too quickly after his duel with Cedric¡ªtoo many eyes were on him.


    Good. Let them watch.


    He slipped into an alchemy shop tucked between two grander establishments. The scent of burning incense and raw mana greeted him as he stepped inside, shelves stacked with shimmering potions and enchanted artifacts.


    The shopkeeper, an older man with keen eyes, looked up from behind the counter. "Welcome."


    Riven placed a pouch of mana beast cores onto the counter. "High-grade mana potions. Ten."


    The shopkeeper chuckled, weighing the mana cores in his palm. "It''s always the newcomers who have the deepest pockets."


    Riven didn''t respond, simply watching as the man pulled out a set of crystal vials filled with liquid that shimmered like molten sapphire.


    "These are the best you''ll find," the shopkeeper said, sliding them across the counter.


    Riven took them without hesitation, storing them in his inventory. "Pleasure doing business."


    And with that, he left, his mind already on his next destination.


    ¡ªx¡ª


    Riven strode into the navigation hall, his gaze briefly flicking over the glowing sigils marking the various teleportation gates. Without hesitation, he scanned his talisman at the entrance labeled "Fire-Dense Mana Island" and stepped through.


    The change was immediate.


    The air pressed down on him, thick with raw, unrestrained mana.


    Then came the heat.


    Not just warmth, but an all-consuming, suffocating blaze that wrapped around him like a living thing, seeping into his very bones.


    Riven stepped onto solid ground, the air thick with embers and shifting mana. The sky above was stained in hues of molten orange, swirling with flickering sparks. Lava rivers twisted through the landscape like glowing veins, feeding into great fissures of burning rock.


    The island thrived in destruction.


    Riven took a slow breath, feeling the fire mana pulse around him, seeping into his skin. His abyssal flames flickered in response, curling around his fingers like sentient shadows.


    Perfect.


    The ground beneath him cracked as he stepped forward, the island reacting to his presence. The mana here was dense, wild. Normal flames twisted unnaturally, bending toward him as if recognizing something familiar.


    Riven exhaled slowly, his body already adjusting to the overwhelming presence of fire mana in the air. Every breath he took was infused with raw energy, scorching yet invigorating. The sheer density of fire mana here was unlike anything he had experienced before.


    A perfect place to grow stronger.


    He reached into his inventory, pulling out one of the high-grade mana potions. The liquid shimmered like gold-flecked blood under the island''s unnatural light. Without hesitation, he uncorked it and drank.


    A surge of mana flooded his veins, hot and powerful.


    [[ Absorbing Mana: (+40%) ]]


    [[ 1%¡­ ]]


    [[ 2%¡­ ]]


    Riven sat down, crossing his legs as he activated meditation mode. The abyssal flames within him flickered, stretching outward like hungry tendrils, eager to consume the raw mana surrounding him.


    His system adjusted instantly.


    [[ Fire-Dense Environment Detected: Mana Absorption Rate Increased ]]


    [[ Additional Bonus: Abyssal Flames Adaptation +15% Efficiency ]]


    [[ 10%¡­ 12%¡­ 15%¡­ ]]


    The heat of the island intensified, but Riven barely noticed. He let his body relax, drawing the mana into himself. The flames within him pulsed, his mana heart expanding, his reserves deepening with every passing second.


    But he needed more.


    Reaching into his inventory, he withdrew the Staff of Ignis.


    The moment his fingers curled around the broken artifact, it trembled in his grasp, reacting to the overwhelming fire mana in the air. A deep, resonant hum vibrated through his bones as the ancient staff greedily pulled in mana from its surroundings.


    [[ Item: Staff of Ignis (Rank: Legendary) ]]


    [[ (Broken) (Repair 0 of 3) ]] Sear?h the N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    [[ Effect Activated: Fire Mana Surge Detected ¨C Passive Repair Initiated ]]


    The fractured runes along the staff''s surface flickered with dull crimson light, like embers struggling to reignite.


    A grin curled at Riven''s lips. "So you still have some life in you."


    [[ Effect Activated: +25% Mana Absorption ]]


    He gripped the staff tightly, pressing its base into the scorched earth. The moment it made contact, the ground pulsed, veins of molten energy surging toward him in jagged, erratic patterns.


    [[ 20%¡­ 24%¡­ 30%¡­ ]]


    The fire mana swirled violently, responding not only to him but to the artifact itself. The staff drank deeply, drawing power directly from the island''s core.


    Crack.


    A sudden, sharp noise echoed through the air.


    Riven''s eyes snapped open.


    The staff in his hands pulsed, a single fracture repairing itself, the broken engravings glowing momentarily before dimming.


    [[ Staff of Ignis: Repair Progress (1/3) ]]


    His grip tightened. It wasn''t fully restored yet, but this proved something¡ªthis island was exactly what he needed.


    With his mana still surging, he reached for another mana potion, downing it without hesitation.


    [[ 40%¡­ 45%¡­ 50%¡­ ]]


    The more he absorbed, the stronger his reserves became. The king wanted to put him in chains? Let them try. By the time this summons came, he would be on an entirely different level.


    The air around him wavered from the intensity of his abyssal flames, and the very ground beneath him cracked apart, unable to withstand the sheer force of his growing power.


    Riven continued his meditation, letting the mana flood into his mana heart. His abyssal flames pulsed in rhythm with his breathing, swirling around him like living shadows, hungrily devouring the fire mana saturating the air.


    [[ 60%¡­ 65%¡­ 70%¡­ ]]


    The more he absorbed, the heavier the island''s pressure became. His body felt like it was burning from the inside out, the fire mana seeping into his very bones, stretching his reserves to their limits.


    His fingers tightened around the Staff of Ignis, the artifact vibrating in his grasp, drinking in the mana at a terrifying rate. The crimson engravings pulsed brighter, greedily siphoning power straight from the island''s core.


    Crack.


    Another fracture along the staff''s surface mended itself, molten energy surging through the artifact like veins of liquid fire.


    [[ Staff of Ignis: Repair Progress (2/3) ]]


    Riven exhaled sharply, his vision swimming for a moment.


    Too much.


    The staff had consumed more of the ambient mana than he had anticipated. It wasn''t just restoring itself¡ªit was stealing from his absorption rate.


    His system adjusted accordingly.


    [[ Mana Absorption Rate Reduced (Staff of Ignis Interference) ]]


    [[ 75%¡­ 78%¡­ 80%¡­ ]]


    Then, the notification changed.


    [[ Skill Unlocked: Dragon Eyes (Passive Skill) ]]


    A sudden shift in his vision hit him like a tidal wave.


    The world around him shifted, no longer bound by normal perception. His surroundings burned with heat signatures, glowing specters of raw temperature layered over reality. He could see the flow of mana in the air, the twisting paths of heat that wove through the landscape like invisible rivers.


    Even the flames around him¡ªhis own abyssal fire¡ªhad a shape beyond what normal eyes could perceive.


    Riven blinked.


    The entire island was alive in ways he had never noticed before.


    Molten veins pulsed beneath the ground, currents of fire mana twisting in complex patterns. Tiny creatures¡ªelemental wisps, barely visible to the naked eye¡ªfloated within the embers, moving through the currents of heat like fish in water.


    And beyond that¡ªshadows.


    Not just heat, but the absence of it.


    Something¡ªor someone¡ªwas watching him.


    A flicker of cold in a place where only fire should exist.


    Riven didn''t react immediately. His expression remained impassive, his breathing steady as if nothing had changed.


    But internally?


    His mind was already racing.


    Something else was here. Something that did not belong.


    And now, thanks to his newly awakened Dragon Eyes, he could see it.


    A slow smirk formed at the corner of his lips.


    Interesting.


    Let''s see who was foolish enough to stalk him here.

 Chapter 59 - 59: The Assassin

    Riven remained seated, unmoving. The fire-dense island roared around him, heat pressing against his skin like a living entity. But amid all that infernal energy, he could feel it¡ªa flicker of cold, a presence that did not belong.


    A silhouette crouched behind the jagged obsidian rock formations, their form almost indistinguishable from the waves of heat radiating around them.


    Almost.


    Riven''s eyes narrowed.


    His fingers drummed against the Staff of Ignis, the artifact still pulsing with raw energy. How long had they been here? Watching? Waiting?


    And who sent them?


    The king wouldn''t risk sending an assassin before the royal summons¡ªthat was a political game that required patience. The academy wouldn''t be foolish enough to eliminate him outright. That left one person left who hated him enough to want to kill him.


    Riven chuckled under his breath and with one slow motion, he raised his right hand.


    And snapped his fingers.


    BOOM.


    A surge of abyssal fire exploded toward the intruder''s location with violent speed. The inferno swallowed the rock formation, melting obsidian into a molten pool, twisting the air into a shimmer of black and crimson flames.


    For a moment, there was nothing but heat and destruction.


    Then¡ªmovement.


    A shadow darted out of the blaze, moving unnaturally fast. Too fast for a human.


    But not too fast for him.


    Riven''s Dragon Eyes tracked every movement, the assassin flickering in and out of sight, their form shifting with dark enchantments¡ªstealth magic.


    It would have worked on anyone else.


    But Riven wasn''t just anyone.


    With a flick of his wrist, his abyssal flames twisted outward, spreading like grasping hands. The heat in the air compressed unnaturally, his mana focusing with dangerous precision.


    Then¡ªhe clenched his fist.


    The flames collapsed.


    Like a trap snapping shut.


    A choked gasp came from the intruder as blackened fire coiled around their limbs, locking them in place mid-dash.


    They collapsed onto the scorched earth, twitching.


    The assassin''s cloak burned away in places, revealing a lean, armored figure beneath. A mask covered the lower half of their face, enchanted runes glowing faintly across the metal. Their pale silver eyes glared at him with thinly veiled hatred.


    Riven approached, slow, deliberate.


    He crouched beside them, elbows resting on his knees, watching them like a predator toying with its prey.


    "Let''s skip the introductions," he mused, his voice low, almost lazy. "You wouldn''t be here unless you were sent by someone important."


    The assassin didn''t respond.


    Riven smiled.


    "You were watching me for a while, weren''t you?" He reached out, plucking the dagger strapped to their thigh. A sleek, curved blade¡ªrunes etched into its hilt, humming with poison magic.


    He whistled. "Lethal stuff. You weren''t just watching, were you?"


    The assassin jerked forward, trying to move¡ªtrying to kill him.


    They failed.


    Riven pressed a single finger against their forehead. Abyssal fire ignited.


    The assassin screamed.


    Their body convulsed violently as black fire ate into their armor, burning just enough to make the pain agonizing¡ªbut not enough to kill.


    Not yet.


    Riven leaned in, his smirk never faltering. "I only need one answer," he murmured. "Who sent you?"


    No response.


    Riven exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. "I was hoping you''d be smarter than this."


    With a sharp flick of his wrist, abyssal fire slithered from his fingertips, seeping into the assassin''s body like a living entity. The moment it latched onto their mana veins, the real agony began.


    The assassin convulsed violently, their muscles locking as the fire burrowed deep, burning from the inside out. It wasn''t just pain¡ªit was destruction laced into every fiber of their being, crawling through their bloodstream like molten venom. Their veins glowed black beneath their skin, the corrupted fire coiling tighter around their mana heart, suffocating it.


    A strangled scream tore from their throat, their body writhing, but there was no escape. Riven watched impassively, his abyssal flames eating away at them from within.


    Then¡ªfinally¡ªthey cracked.


    "T-The Countess!" they gasped. "She sent me!"


    Riven went still.


    For a long moment, there was nothing but the crackle of flames.


    Then, his smirk widened into something sharp.


    Riven tilted his head, watching as the assassin writhed beneath the weight of his abyssal flames. Their body trembled, the black fire carving through them like searing brands, yet he kept the pain precise¡ªcontrolled. Just enough to make them understand the depths of their mistake.


    The Countess¡­ he knew it.


    His dear stepmother, who had locked him away like a caged beast, who had stripped him of everything and tormented him just for existing. And now, when she had finally learned that her perfect little son had been humiliated, she had acted.


    Sending an assassin?


    It was almost disappointing.


    Riven exhaled through his nose, his smirk fading into something colder. "So, she''s finally decided to deal with me herself."


    The assassin panted, their breaths ragged, but despite the agony ravaging their body, Riven could see it¡ªthe glint of defiance still burning in their eyes.


    Loyalty.


    Misplaced, useless loyalty.


    Riven''s fingers twitched, and the flames surged deeper, wrapping tighter around the assassin''s mana heart. A sickening crack echoed as the abyssal fire dug into their very core.


    The assassin choked on a scream, their body arching in torment.


    Riven crouched lower, voice quiet. "You weren''t even given a chance, were you? Sent to die without realizing who you were dealing with." He let out a mock sigh, shaking his head. "Pathetic."


    His abyssal fire flickered hungrily, the tendrils tightening around the assassin''s mana circuits, siphoning the very essence from them. If they had been a worthy opponent, perhaps Riven would have considered raising them into something useful.


    But this one?


    They weren''t even worth turning into one of his undead.


    "Hah¡­ what a waste." Riven murmured.


    And with that, he clenched his fist.


    The assassin''s body convulsed violently as the abyssal flames consumed them from the inside out. Their veins ruptured under the sheer force of the corruption, their mana heart collapsing as fire swallowed them whole. A scream barely escaped before their form was reduced to nothing but flickering embers, their existence erased from reality.


    Riven rose to his feet, rolling his shoulders as the last remnants of the assassin''s ashes faded into the air. The infernal heat of the island welcomed the destruction, as if the land itself had devoured the soul that dared trespass.


    He stared at the empty space where the assassin had been, his expression unreadable.


    His stepmother thought this would be enough?


    A single assassin?


    Riven chuckled darkly.


    If she truly wanted him dead, she should have sent an army.


    He flexed his fingers, the abyssal fire crackling in response. This was just the beginning. If she had taken this step, then she would try again. And again.


    That was fine.


    Because once the royal summons was over, once he was finished dealing with the king''s attempt to bind him¡ª


    He would take a visit home ¡ª and when he did?


    The Countess would regret ever letting him live.


    ¡ªx¡ª


    Thursday morning arrived with a creeping stillness. The sky was draped in deep violet hues, the final remnants of the night stubbornly clinging to the horizon. Riven stepped through the darkened pathways of the academy, his robes billowing in the cool morning air.


    His time on the Fire-Dense Mana Island had been productive. His mana reserves had expanded far beyond their previous limits and he was almost at the threshold of forming his third circle.


    With quiet, measured steps, he made his way toward the mausoleum, slipping through the underground passageways. The scent of old stone and death greeted him like an old companion.


    His Generals were already waiting.


    In the dim chamber, Nyx sat lazily atop Krux''s broad back, her legs crossed as if he were nothing more than a living bench. Krux, to his credit, grumbled under his breath but continued his push-ups, muscles straining beneath his shirt as he kept pace with her silent, unspoken demand. Sear?h the nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Fifty more," Nyx mused, resting her chin in her palm. "Maybe then I''ll consider letting you breathe."


    Krux let out a scoff between push-ups. "One of these days, Nyx¡­"


    "Hmm?" She yawned, stretching luxuriously. "You''ll what? Drop and disappoint me?"


    Krux just grunted and kept going.


    At the far end of the chamber, Aria sat with perfect poise, a porcelain teacup cradled between her fingers, steam curling from its surface. The scent of jasmine and something subtly spiced drifted through the air, a sharp contrast against the dust and death that clung to the mausoleum''s walls. It was as if she had pulled the delicate drink out of thin air, untouched by the grim reality surrounding them.


    Sana, as always, lingered near the entrance, her blindfolded gaze unreadable. Unlike the others, she neither teased nor indulged in idle amusement¡ªshe merely listened, her head tilted ever so slightly, as if attuned to something beyond their senses.


    Riven strode forward, his boots echoing against the stone floor. He ran a hand through his hair, revealing the sharp glint in his eyes.


    "Well?" he said, his voice calm but commanding. "What did you find?"


    They all moved to stand before him, their heads inclining in silent acknowledgment. Nyx was the first to break the silence.


    "The noble factions are restless," she said, tapping her fingers against the hilt of her sword. "Word is spreading fast about your duel with Cedric. Some are impressed. Others? They''re worried. The ones in power don''t like unpredictability, and you being an illegitimate son makes them uncomfortable."


    Riven smirked. "Good."


    "Here''s a list of all the nobles attending the summons." Nyx handed him a scroll, her expression unreadable. "But the one worth focusing on is Duke Deveroux. He controls the merchant guild and, by extension, most of the kingdom''s trade. Win his favor, and the rest of the nobles will follow his lead."


    Riven unrolled the scroll, his sharp eyes flicking over the names, each one carrying weight in the empire''s tangled web of politics. Many were familiar¡ªnoble houses clinging to their old power, ambitious upstarts looking for opportunities, and those who thrived in the shadows of court politics.


    Duke Deveroux.


    That was the one that mattered.


    He was more than just a noble¡ªhe was the linchpin of the empire''s economy. The merchant guilds operated under his command, and through them, he controlled everything from food supplies to rare magical artifacts. If Deveroux backed him, the others wouldn''t just tolerate his presence¡ªthey would actively seek his favor.


    "Deveroux, huh?" Riven mused, rolling the scroll back up. "What''s his angle?"


    Nyx smirked, folding her arms. "Pragmatic and greedy. He doesn''t care about bloodlines, only about who can make him richer. He''s already wary of the crown raising taxes on trade to fund the northern campaign. If we give him an alternative¡ªsomething he can profit from¡ªhe''ll listen."


    Riven nodded. "Then he''s the key to turning the nobility in my favor."


    Aria took a sip of her tea before speaking, her tone smooth. "The king knows that as well. That''s why the Deveroux family has been given additional privileges at court. They''re being pulled into the royal faction, but Deveroux himself isn''t entirely convinced yet. He prefers to have more than one option."


    Riven''s smirk deepened. "Then I''ll give him a better one."


    Nyx chuckled. "That''s what I was hoping you''d say."


    Riven turned to Krux. "And the underground?"


    Krux stretched his arms with a lazy grin. "They''re listening. The duel put you on their radar, but it''s your connections to the academy and nobility that make you interesting. No one''s sure if you''re playing the noble game or planning something else. Some want to back you, others are waiting to see how you move."


    Riven raised an eyebrow. "And if I want control?"


    Krux''s smirk sharpened. "Then we make an example. The underworld respects power, but they bow to dominance. If you want them under your heel, we take out someone important. Someone they fear."


    Riven considered it. A direct show of strength could solidify his position, but it would have to be the right target. Not just a statement of power¡ªbut a shift in control.


    "I''ll think on it," he said finally. "We''ll move after the summons."


    Krux nodded, satisfied.


    Finally, Riven turned to Aria. "The palace district?"


    She placed her teacup down with quiet precision. "The king is watching, but he''s not acting¡ªyet. There''s rumours of war brewing between the Solis Kingdom and the Danu Empire which is keeping his focus divided. That''s the only reason we have any breathing room. But he''s preparing a counter to your rise."


    "Oh?" Riven arched an eyebrow, amusement flickering in his eyes. "And what exactly is that?"


    Aria exhaled, setting her teacup down with quiet precision. "You already know." Her voice was measured, calm, but beneath it was something colder. "The king has acquired an incredibly rare and costly binding pact scroll. He plans to use it on you tomorrow." She met his gaze evenly. "It''s as if he''s already decided the outcome of the summons before it''s even begun."


    Riven let out a low chuckle, tilting his head back as a wry grin tugged at his lips. "What a bastard." His abyssal flames flickered at his fingertips, shadows curling between his knuckles like restless serpents. He took a slow, measured breath, forcing down the simmering rage coiling in his chest, though the fire in his veins refused to fully settle.


    "The headmaster will be in attendance tomorrow," Sana said softly. "I heard some of the upper Acolytes confirm it today."


    "Ah, that relic only cares about the academy''s reputation," Riven said with a smirk. "If the tide shifts in my favor, he''ll adapt. I''m a rising star here¡ªhe''d rather nurture that potential than see it extinguished prematurely."


    "So, our best move is targeting the Duke," Krux mused, stroking his chin, his brows drawn together in deep thought.


    "Exactly." Riven nodded, and with a flick of his wrist, a skill book materialized in his palm, its cover pulsing faintly with power. A smirk played at his lips. "And I have just the skill to win him over."

 Chapter 60 - 60: Nightmare

    Riven sat cross-legged in the mausoleum''s dim chamber, the skill book floating just above his outstretched palm. Its cover pulsed with an eerie glow, the inky runes shifting as if they were alive.


    [[ You have obtained a Skill Book! ]]


    [[ Skill Book: Abyssal Nightmare ]]


    [[ Inflict a nightmarish illusion upon a target, pulling them into a realm of their deepest fears. The strength and intensity of the nightmare are determined by the caster''s mental fortitude and abyssal power. Weaker minds will be utterly consumed, unable to distinguish illusion from reality. Stronger opponents may resist, but prolonged exposure wears down even the most fortified minds. The effect can be amplified through direct physical contact. ]]


    [[ Would you like to learn this skill? ]]


    [[ Yes / No ]]


    Riven''s gaze flickered over the description, his smirk deepening. A skill like this wasn''t just about deception¡ªit was domination. It forced its victims into their own suffering, leaving them at the mercy of their own subconscious. It was the perfect tool for what he had in mind.


    But power always had a price.


    He knew that unlocking a skill of this level would require more than just absorbing the knowledge.


    He was going to have to enter his own nightmare and conquer it ¡ª and he had to do it within less than a day.


    "Guard this place well," Riven commanded to his Generals. "Don''t let anyone disturb me. Sana," his gaze flickered to the Acolyte. "If I''m still not awake past the designated time, I need you to wake me up no matter what."


    "Understood, master." Sana bowed and the rest of them followed suit.


    He took a deep breath before selecting [[Yes]].


    Darkness consumed him.


    ¡ªx¡ª


    A shrill alarm shattered the early morning silence, grating against his ears. Riven groaned, rolling onto his side, his hand blindly fumbling across the nightstand until his fingers finally smacked against the stop button.


    The sudden quiet was almost worse.


    With a weary sigh, he forced himself upright, stretching until his joints popped, a yawn escaping him. Monday. The most important day of the week. Delivery day. The bakery''s goods had to be sent out to the local shops before sunrise.


    Moving on autopilot, he washed up, dressed quickly, and grabbed a slice of toast, barely tasting it as he stuffed it into his mouth. His eyes flicked to the clock¡ª4:57 AM.


    His frown deepened as his gaze drifted toward his parents'' bedroom door, still shut.


    Figures.


    "Guess I''m on my own again," he muttered, not even surprised.


    Shrugging off the familiar disappointment, he grabbed his things and stepped out into the cool morning air. The streets were quiet, still wrapped in the last whispers of night. His boots tapped against the pavement as he made his usual trek toward the family bakery.


    Yet, something felt¡­ wrong.


    A weight settled in his chest, an odd sense of unease prickling at the back of his mind. Like he was forgetting something important.


    Riven slowed his pace, his brows furrowing as he tried to grasp the thought slipping just out of reach. His breath curled in the chill, his surroundings unchanged, yet¡ª


    His gaze lowered.


    His shadow stretched along the pavement, pooling beneath him unnaturally deep, unnervingly dark.


    Had it always been like that?


    Riven''s steps faltered. His eyes remained locked on the shadow beneath him, the way it stretched unnaturally along the pavement. It wasn''t just the early morning light playing tricks on him¡ªthis was something else.


    Something wrong.


    A flicker of irritation crossed his mind. He shook his head, exhaling sharply. Focus. He was overthinking. He had a long day ahead, and the last thing he needed was to start seeing things.


    Still, the unease gnawed at him.


    He turned his gaze away from the distorted shadow and continued down the familiar path toward the bakery. It was the same as always¡ªthe cracked pavement, the dim glow of streetlights flickering overhead, the faint scent of fresh bread lingering in the cold morning air.


    And yet¡­


    It felt off.


    The silence pressed against him. No distant hum of cars, no early risers, no stray dogs barking in the distance. Just him. Alone.


    Riven''s brows furrowed. His memories of this place were clear, too clear, yet something about it felt manufactured. Like a replica of his past rather than the real thing.


    Then he saw it.


    The bakery.


    His family''s name scrawled in peeling paint above the entrance, the same chipped wooden door, the same dim interior light that barely illuminated the inside.


    He stared at it.


    His fingers twitched at his sides.


    Why was he hesitating?


    This was routine. He did this every Monday. He walked up to that door, turned the lock, and stepped inside to begin work before the morning rush.


    So why do I feel like I shouldn''t go in?


    His chest tightened. The unease clawed at him, but he shoved it down, forcing himself to move. One foot in front of the other.


    The door creaked open.


    The scent of flour and yeast filled his nostrils, familiar and yet strangely suffocating. He stepped inside, the wooden floorboards creaking beneath his weight.


    Everything was exactly where it should be. The trays of dough waiting to be baked. The shelves lined with loaves of bread and pastries. The faint hum of the refrigerator in the back.


    It was the same.


    And that was the problem.


    He stood there, gripping the edge of the counter, his pulse beginning to pick up. This wasn''t real. He knew this wasn''t real.


    But he couldn''t remember why.


    The bell above the door chimed.


    His body tensed instinctively.


    Two figures walked in.


    Riven turned slowly. S§×ar?h the N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Ugh, slacking again, Riven?" His mother''s cold, disapproving gaze pierced through him, her tone sharp and biting. She stood in the doorway, arms crossed, her expression twisted in familiar disdain.


    His father followed, scowling. "Useless brat! Why haven''t you started yet?!" His voice boomed through the bakery, filled with the same contempt Riven had known his entire life.


    But something was wrong.


    The way they moved¡ªit wasn''t natural. Their steps were stiff, jerky, as if their joints weren''t working properly. Their limbs twitched unnaturally with every motion, a grotesque mockery of human movement.


    A cold dread settled in his stomach.


    Their mouths moved, spewing the same insults he had heard countless times before, but their voices warped, distorted, like echoes bouncing through an empty void.


    His mother sneered, stepping closer. His father''s presence loomed over him.


    Riven stumbled back, his instincts screaming at him.


    Riven squeezed his eyes shut, hands clamping over his ears as the relentless barrage of insults pounded against him. His body trembled, shrinking beneath the weight of their words, just as he always had.


    But in the suffocating darkness behind his eyelids, something shifted.


    A presence.


    A pair of dark blue eyes emerged from the void¡ªcold, piercing, ancient. Flames, darker than the abyss itself, flickered at their edges, casting eerie shadows across his vision.


    Riven''s breath hitched as the outline of a man took shape. Towering. Commanding. Cloaked in an endless void of shifting shadows, an obsidian crown rested upon his brow like a symbol of dominion over darkness itself.


    And he was smirking.


    The Shadow King''s gaze locked onto him, searing straight through the illusion. Slowly, deliberately, he lifted a hand, fingers outstretched toward Riven.


    An invitation. A command. A choice.


    Riven''s breath shuddered as he stared at the outstretched hand, the dark flames licking at the figure''s fingertips. The weight of the bakery, of his past, of the nightmare pressing in around him¡ªit all felt suffocating.


    But those eyes.


    They cut through the illusion like a blade.


    His trembling hands lowered from his ears. The voices of his parents droned on, their insults sharp and ceaseless, but they sounded¡­ dull now. Like echoes trapped in a void, meaningless noise trying to claw at him but unable to reach.


    The Shadow King remained, his presence unwavering.


    Riven swallowed hard. His heart pounded in his chest, his breath coming faster. He knew what this was now.


    A nightmare.


    His nightmare.


    But that meant¡­


    Riven''s lips parted, his voice hoarse. "I''ve already escaped this."


    The bakery wavered. His parents twitched, their movements distorting, glitching, as if something was trying to keep the illusion intact.


    His father''s hand shot out, grabbing Riven by the collar. "What did you say?"


    For the first time, Riven didn''t flinch. His hands clenched into fists, his abyssal flames flickering at his fingertips. "You''re not real." His voice steadied, stronger. "None of this is."


    His father''s grip tightened, but Riven didn''t feel it.


    His mother stepped forward, her face twisting in rage. "Insolent little¡ª"


    Riven exhaled. "Burn."


    The abyssal flames erupted from his body in a violent surge, engulfing the entire bakery in black fire. The shelves, the counters, the walls¡ªeverything was consumed in an instant. His parents'' forms twisted, their faces stretching in silent, gaping horror as the flames devoured them, reducing them to nothing but ash.


    The bakery around him warped, the illusion shattering like glass. The distorted world cracked, revealing the void beneath, a sea of endless shadows writhing like living things.


    And through it all, the Shadow King stood unbothered, still holding out his hand.


    Riven stared at it, his breath heavy. His flames flickered in the empty void, but the fear¡ªthe suffocating helplessness¡ªwas gone.


    He wasn''t the same person who had died here.


    Slowly, deliberately, Riven reached out and grasped the Shadow King''s hand.


    The moment their fingers touched, the void collapsed.


    ¡ªx¡ª


    Pain.


    A deep, searing agony shot through his skull as he gasped awake. His body jolted, drenched in sweat, his breath ragged.


    He was back in the mausoleum.


    His abyssal flames flickered weakly around him, his mind reeling from the intensity of the illusion. He forced himself to steady his breathing, his vision clearing.


    A notification hovered before him.


    [[ Skill Unlocked: Abyssal Nightmare ]]


    Riven let out a slow, dark chuckle, running a hand through his damp hair.


    He had conquered his own nightmare.


    Now, it was time to create them for others.

 Chapter 61 - 61: The Duke’s Nightmare Part 1

    The last remnants of his nightmare clung to Riven''s skin like a lingering shadow. His breath evened, his heartbeat settling into its steady, controlled rhythm. The weight of the mausoleum returned¡ªstone, dust, and silence. His generals stood at the edges of the chamber, waiting.


    "Good, you''re awake," Nyx said, arms crossed, her dark eyes flicking over him. "Are you alright?"


    Riven rubbed his neck, the phantom weight of the nightmare still pressing against his skin. The skill had latched onto his subconscious like a leech, pulling forth memories he had buried long ago. Abyssal Nightmare was powerful¡ªfar stronger than he had anticipated.


    "I''m fine." Riven sighed after a moment. "At least I know now that it works¡­ perhaps a little too well."


    Nyx reached down and pulled Riven to his feet with ease, her grip firm yet careful. Before he could fully regain his bearings, Aria was already at his side, a delicate handkerchief¡ªembroidered with fine silver thread¡ªmaterializing in her grasp as if summoned from thin air. Without hesitation, she dabbed away the sweat clinging to his skin, her movements smooth and practiced.


    Riven arched a brow at her. Where does she even keep these things?


    "That''s great news, my liege," Krux said, flashing a sharp grin. "While you were wrestling with that nightmare, we were working out the finer details of how to get you out of the academy unseen and how we''re breaking into the Duke''s estate."


    Riven took the cool crystal cup Aria handed him¡ªfilled with refreshingly chilled water, of course¡ªand took a slow sip. The moment the cold liquid touched his tongue, he cast a sidelong glance at her.


    "¡­And where exactly are you getting all of this?"


    Aria merely smiled, sipping from her own delicate teacup as if that answered everything.


    Nyx chuckled. "Don''t question it. Just accept it."


    Riven shook his head, setting the cup down before fixing his gaze on them. "Alright, and did you actually come up with a working plan?"


    Nyx''s smirk widened. "Of course. Everything is in place."


    "Alright," he said, his voice regaining its usual sharpness. "Let''s hear it."


    Nyx leaned against the stone table, arms folded. "The academy''s wards are strong, but not impenetrable. Sana found a weak point near the eastern wall¡ªa section where the enchantments are old and fraying. It''s the perfect exit."


    Sana stepped forward, her voice as smooth as ever. "The library is close to that section, and it''s training rooms are open all night. If you send a shadow clone there to make it seem like you''re training, no one will question it."


    "Simple misdirection," Aria added, setting her teacup down with a quiet clink. "Your presence will be accounted for, and if anyone does happen to check, they''ll find your clone hard at work."


    Krux grinned. "And while your little illusion keeps the academy busy, we slip out through the weakened ward and make our way to the Duke''s estate. Quick, clean, and no one even knows you''re gone."


    Riven nodded, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Not bad." His gaze flicked to Sana. "And the security in the capital? What are we dealing with?"


    She tilted her head slightly. "The city gates won''t be an issue. The academy''s insignia allows free movement for students, and my sources confirm that tonight''s guard shift is particularly lax. Once you''re inside, Deveroux''s estate will be the only challenge."


    Nyx tapped a map she had unrolled on the table. "The Duke''s mansion is well-guarded, but nothing we can''t handle. His security detail is standard¡ªmercenaries mixed with a few low mana circle guards. The biggest problem is the enchanted barriers around his personal quarters."


    Aria traced a finger over the map''s markings. "They''re strong but not complex. Given enough time, I can disable them."


    Krux cracked his knuckles. "Or I can just smash through."


    Nyx shot him a deadpan look. "Yes, because breaking into the Duke''s estate by brute force won''t make him suspicious at all."


    Krux grinned. "Just saying, if subtlety fails, we have options."


    Riven chuckled. "Let''s keep that as Plan B."


    His mind raced through the strategy, weighing each detail. The plan was solid. Nyx says Deveroux is known for his pragmatism¡ªhe wouldn''t listen to empty promises, but he would listen to power. That''s where Abyssal Nightmare came in.


    If the Duke doubted him, he''d make sure the man had no choice but to believe.


    Riven exhaled, his decision made. "Alright. Let''s move."


    ¡ªx¡ª


    They moved through the academy grounds like ghosts, slipping between the shadows cast by the towering buildings. The night was their cover, the dim torchlight flickering across the stone walls failing to catch their silent movements.


    Only once Riven reached the concealed corner near the library entrance did he raise his hand. The inky darkness coiled at his fingertips before unfurling like a living entity, seeping from his palm and taking shape.


    A perfect replica of himself emerged, its features identical, but its posture reeked of that insufferable arrogance his shadow clones always seemed to have. It tilted its head, eyes gleaming with faint amusement before rolling its eyes, feigning disinterest.


    Riven barely resisted the urge to punch it.


    Instead, he clenched his fist and exhaled through his nose. Not worth the mana waste. His clone gave him one last lazy glance before striding into the library without hesitation.


    Reaching out through their connection, Riven tapped into the clone''s vision. His senses flickered, shifting as he observed through its eyes. The moment it stepped inside, heads turned¡ªstudents, scholars, and mages-in-training casting curious glances.


    Nothing unusual. He was used to the stares.


    The clone moved with deliberate ease, its every action a careful mimicry of Riven''s usual behavior. It strode up to the guards, brushing its talisman across their plaques. A brief shimmer of runic light passed over before granting access.


    With practiced nonchalance, the clone ascended the staircase, its gaze drifting over the bookshelves as if searching for something. Then, after pausing just long enough to avoid suspicion, it veered toward the higher-level training rooms.


    Inside, it made a show of flipping through a few spell tomes before settling into a corner, its posture relaxed but purposeful.


    Only once Riven confirmed the clone was in place did he sever the link, his breath leaving him in a slow exhale. The drain on his mana remained steady, but with the clone stationary, the depletion would remain manageable.


    Sana slipped into the library soon after, her movements fluid and silent, gliding through the aisles like a wraith. She drifted past students and scholars unnoticed, her presence a mere whisper in the grand halls. With her senses sharpened, she monitored the space, searching for the slightest disturbance.


    Finding none, she sent a quiet pulse through their mental link. "All is well, Master."


    Riven acknowledged her with the faintest nod before turning on his heel. His Generals followed without a word, their pace swift and calculated as they turned and slipped deeper into the forests that lined the academy.


    They moved with purpose, navigating the maze of trees and concealed pathways until they reached their destination¡ªthe weak point in the academy''s outer wall.


    Before them stood an imposing barrier of thick grey stone, its surface pulsing with ancient runes and intricate magic circles. The wards glowed faintly in the darkness, a silent warning to any who dared attempt an escape.


    Aria stepped forward without hesitation, her gaze sweeping over the runes with practiced precision. She had done this countless times before¡ªbreaking in, breaking out, slipping through cracks in defenses that others never even noticed.


    She pressed her palm lightly against the wall, fingers ghosting over the worn-out enchantments. "The academy''s wards are sophisticated," she murmured, more to herself than the others. "But they''ve been layered over each other for centuries. Some of the old magic is interfering with the newer protections¡­ which gives us an opening."


    Riven crossed his arms, watching as Aria pulled out a small dagger, its blade etched with faint sigils. With a flick of her wrist, she cut a shallow line across her palm, and a thin stream of blood welled up before she pressed it against the runes.


    The magic pulsed in response, flickering erratically like a candle struggling against the wind.


    "This will take a moment," she muttered, kneeling down to trace her free hand along the lower edge of the wall. Her movements were quick and precise, the careful dismantling of a lock rather than the brute force of breaking through.


    Krux crouched beside her, watching with barely concealed impatience. "You sure you don''t want me to just¡ª"


    "Shut up, Krux," Nyx interrupted, rolling her eyes. "Let the professional work."


    Aria didn''t even acknowledge the exchange. Her lips moved in a silent chant, the energy in the air shifting as the runes began to unravel. The glow dimmed, then flickered once more before finally dying out.


    With a soft click, the magic sealing the section of the wall fractured, leaving nothing but inert stone behind.


    She stood, wiping the blood from her palm with an effortless grace. "It''s open," she announced simply, stepping back.


    Riven nodded, placing a hand against the cold stone. Without the runes reinforcing it, the weakened section of the wall began to crack and crumble beneath his touch. Small fractures spread across the surface, and with a few careful tugs, they were able to pull away several loose stones, widening the gap.


    Dust and debris fell at their feet, but soon, the opening was just large enough for them to slip through. One by one, they passed to the other side, vanishing into the darkness beyond.


    The cold night air greeted them as they emerged on the other side of the academy wall, the towering structure now behind them. A heavy silence settled over the group, the weight of the mission ahead pressing upon them.


    Riven took a steadying breath before gesturing forward. "Stay in the shadows. We don''t engage unless necessary."


    Nyx nodded, her gaze scanning the dimly lit streets ahead. The capital was alive, even at this hour. Lanterns flickered along the cobblestone roads, the faint hum of distant conversations and laughter drifting from the more populated areas. But here, in the quieter parts, their presence would stand out if they weren''t careful.


    They moved like wraiths, hugging the alleyways and keeping to the darkest corners, avoiding the main thoroughfares where patrolling guards roamed. The capital was vast, its streets winding and sprawling, but they had memorized the layout beforehand. Every turn was calculated, every step measured.


    Aria took the lead, her senses sharper than most. With each turn, she subtly signaled when to stop and when to move. Pedestrians still roamed the streets¡ªsome civilians, others dressed in cloaks that marked them as merchants or travelers. But there were a few whose presence burned like beacons against Riven''s own senses.


    Mana users.


    Likely mages, guards, or nobles with mana hearts ¡ªones that would definitely detect their presence if they got too close.


    "We take the long way," Nyx murmured, her tone clipped. "Too much risk of detection."


    Riven gave a short nod, following her lead. The longer route took them through a winding series of alleyways, past the backs of shops and smaller estates. There were no enchanted lamps here, only the moon''s pale glow casting elongated shadows across the walls.


    A sudden burst of laughter echoed from a nearby street, forcing them all to freeze.


    Riven narrowed his eyes, signaling for the others to stay low as a trio of drunken noblemen stumbled past, a single escort trailing behind them. The man''s mana was weak, barely more than a flicker, but they waited until the group had disappeared before pressing forward.


    Minutes bled into what felt like an hour, but soon, the noble district came into view. Unlike the tightly packed streets of the capital, this area was vast, designed to showcase wealth and power. Each estate was grand, their towering gates and sprawling gardens a stark contrast to the rest of the city. But among them, one structure loomed above the rest. S§×arch* The novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Calling it a mansion would be an insult. It was a fortress of opulence, more akin to a castle than a noble''s residence. Its sprawling grounds stretched across a vast portion of the district, enclosed by a towering blackstone wall reinforced with layers of protective magic. At its heart, the main estate stood like a monument of wealth and influence, its white marble fa?ade gleaming even beneath the moonlight, its numerous towers and spires piercing into the sky like the fingers of some ancient giant.


    Massive iron gates sealed off the entrance, their elaborate design laced with golden runes that shimmered with layered enchantments. Beyond them, the estate grounds unfolded like a royal palace, with statues carved from obsidian and jade, manicured gardens sprawling with exotic flowers, and fountains made of enchanted crystal, their water glowing faintly in the dark.


    Even from this distance, Riven could sense it¡ªthe weight of wealth, of power, of a kingdom within a kingdom.


    He smirked. Let''s see how unshakable Deveroux really is.

 Chapter 62 - 62: The Duke’s Nightmare Part 2

    Aria stepped forward, her sharp gaze sweeping over the intricate runes woven into the iron gate. They had found a secluded section of the fence behind the Duke''s estate, shrouded by towering trees and dense foliage.


    Her fingers ghosted over the markings, tracing them with practiced ease, feeling the faint hum of magic beneath her touch.


    "Same as the academy wall¡ªold enchantments layered over new ones," she murmured. "Whoever maintains these defenses doesn''t know what they''re doing. They''re overlapping conflicting sigils¡­ which makes them weak."


    She knelt, producing a small vial from the folds of her cloak. The liquid inside was a shimmering silver, thick and viscous.


    Krux arched an eyebrow. "What''s that?"


    "Solvent for weak magical bindings," she replied simply, dipping the tip of a thin dagger into the shimmering liquid. "The wards here may be weak, but they''re still a step above the academy''s."


    The moment the blade made contact with the runes, they reacted violently¡ªpulsing erratically, their golden glow flickering like a dying flame, struggling to hold form before beginning to unravel.


    Riven watched with interest as the magic began to unravel before his eyes, like frayed threads coming undone.


    Nyx smirked. "One of these days, you''re going to have to teach me how to do that."


    Aria didn''t even glance up. "You don''t have the patience."


    Krux chuckled. "She''s got a point."


    The final rune sputtered and died, its golden light fading into nothing. The faintly glowing barrier that had traced the edges of the fence flickered unsteadily before vanishing entirely in this section, leaving the path unguarded.


    Aria straightened, wiping the dagger clean against her glove. "We''re in."


    One by one, they vaulted over the now-unshielded section of the fence, landing soundlessly on the soft earth below. Moving with practiced ease, they slipped into the cover of the nearby trees, their forms blending seamlessly with the shadows.


    Riven''s dragon gaze swept over the estate grounds, sharp and calculating. A handful of guards patrolled the perimeter, their movements slow and unhurried. Complacency. That was the weakness of the powerful¡ªthe belief that their wealth and influence would shield them from all threats.


    A fatal mistake.


    He gestured to his generals, signaling for them to keep close as they navigated the sprawling estate. The path ahead was lined with perfectly manicured hedges and ornate statues, their shadowed forms offering natural cover. Aria moved ahead, a whisper of motion in the darkness, her every step measured, her senses stretched to detect any hidden traps or magical alarms.


    Nyx closed her eyes, focusing. "Two guards at the east veranda, another three near the study''s balcony. They''re lightly armed¡ªmercenaries, not elite knights."


    Riven nodded. "Good. We''ll go in quiet."


    The group moved swiftly, slipping between patches of darkness, their presence a mere ripple in the still night. Aria led them toward a side entrance, her fingers tracing the edge of the doorframe.


    "Enchanted," she muttered. "But they didn''t account for someone like me."


    She withdrew a set of thin metal tools, barely visible in the dim light, and set to work. The lock itself was mundane¡ªornate, but easily bypassed. It was the spell woven into it that posed the real challenge. A lesser thief would have triggered an alarm. Aria, however, was far from ordinary.


    The air around the lock shimmered faintly as she worked, the runes resisting her intrusion. But she was patient, methodical. A minute passed, then another. Finally, with a muted click, the barrier spell collapsed.


    Aria gave a satisfied nod. "We''re in."


    Riven pushed the door open, stepping into the lavish interior. The air was thick with the scent of polished wood and aged parchment. Velvet drapes cascaded from the high ceilings, and a grand chandelier hung above them, its crystal ornaments gleaming in the dim candlelight.


    Everywhere, excess and wealth.


    Riven scoffed. The nobility always had a way of hoarding luxury while the rest of the kingdom struggled.


    "The Duke is still in his study. The door is guarded, but no additional wards." Aria said softly.


    Riven smirked. "Perfect."


    They moved with precision, slipping through the grand hallways undetected. Servants were scarce at this hour, and the guards, while present, were positioned only at key points. The Duke''s arrogance was evident¡ªhe relied more on reputation and fear than actual security.


    A mistake that Riven would exploit.


    As they approached the northern wing, the glow of candlelight seeped from beneath a heavy oak door¡ªthe Duke''s study. Two guards flanked it, their posture straight, their expressions unreadable.


    Riven exhaled softly. "Go."


    Aria was already moving.


    In a blur of motion, she emerged from the shadows, her daggers whispering through the air. A flick of her wrist, and the first guard collapsed, his throat slit before he even had a chance to cry out. The second turned, eyes widening¡ªbut before he could reach for his sword, Krux''s massive hand clamped over his mouth, dragging him into the darkness. A sickening snap followed, and the body went limp.


    Clean. Efficient.


    Riven stepped forward, pressing his palm against the study door. A faint pulse of magic lingered, a detection spell meant to alert the Duke if forced entry was attempted.


    How careless.


    He let his abyssal energy seep into the door''s enchantment, twisting it, consuming it like a slow-burning fire. The spell shuddered, then collapsed entirely.


    He turned the handle and pushed the door open.


    Duke Deveroux sat at his grand desk, a quill in hand, his brows furrowed in thought. He barely looked up, assuming it was one of his attendants.


    "Get out," he muttered. "I said I didn''t want to be disturbed¡ª"


    He froze mid-sentence.


    Riven stepped inside, his presence like a shadow stretching across the room. His abyssal flames flickered at his fingertips, casting eerie patterns across the luxurious furnishings.


    The Duke''s hand tightened around his quill. "Who¡ª"


    "Let''s not waste time," Riven interrupted smoothly. "You know who I am."


    Deveroux''s expression shifted, sharp calculation flickering behind his eyes. He wasn''t a fool. The rumors had reached him¡ªRiven''s rapid ascent, his unsettling power, and, most importantly, the king''s growing hostility toward him. Unlike most nobles, Deveroux understood the king''s nature intimately. He knew the man''s loathing for anything related to dark power ran deeper than mere politics¡ªit was personal. The fact that Riven showcased his black flames for all to see and still walked free was like an insult to the throne itself.


    "Interesting," the Duke murmured, leaning back in his chair. "And what, exactly, does the infamous illegitimate son of Count Drakar want with me?"


    Riven''s smirk was razor-sharp. "Your support."


    Deveroux chuckled. "Support? You assume much, boy. I have nothing to gain from backing a wild card like you."


    "I believe a mutually beneficial friendship is in order," Riven mused, exhaling softly as he strolled leisurely around the office. His fingers traced absentmindedly over the spines of the books lining the shelves, his tone casual yet deliberate. "I happen to have access to something you''ve been after for quite some time."


    "Oh? And what is that?" The Duke asked crossing his arms.


    "I can secure you a direct trade route to the Danu Empire," Riven said smoothly, a knowing smile playing on his lips. The Duke stiffened, his expression betraying a flicker of surprise. "With tensions rising between the Solis Kingdom and the Danu Empire, it''s no secret that all trade between them has been severed."


    Deveroux''s fingers tightened subtly on the armrest of his chair. His expression remained composed, but Riven saw the flicker of temptation beneath his calculating gaze.


    Trade with the Danu Empire was a prize beyond measure. Their rare minerals, enchanted textiles, and advanced alchemy techniques were all but lost to the Solis Kingdom after relations crumbled. Any merchant who could reestablish that link would secure wealth and influence that not even the royal family could ignore.


    But the Duke was no fool. He leaned back, studying Riven with the shrewd gaze of a man who had spent decades navigating treacherous waters. "That''s quite the claim, boy," he said slowly. "And yet, the last I checked, you hold no authority over international trade agreements. What exactly makes you think you can deliver on such a promise?"


    Riven smirked, settling himself into the chair across from Deveroux as if he had all the time in the world. "Let''s just say¡­ I have connections in places most people can''t reach. And I assure you, when the time comes, I''ll be the only one capable of bridging that gap."


    The Duke exhaled sharply through his nose, unimpressed. "Vague words and empty promises. You came all this way to tell me that?" He tapped his fingers against his desk, his voice growing colder. "You expect me to risk my standing, my resources, my reputation, for something that doesn''t even exist yet?" S§×ar?h the Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Riven''s smirk didn''t falter. "Not risk. Invest."


    The Duke scoffed. "Invest in what?"


    "In me." Riven leaned forward slightly, his abyssal energy flickering in the dim candlelight. "All I need from you is a simple favor at tomorrow''s royal summons. The king will attempt to use my black flames as a means to label me a necromancer, to brand me as something dangerous. But you¡ª" He tilted his head. "You, Duke Deveroux, can dismiss those claims entirely."


    The Duke''s eyes narrowed slightly. "And why would I do that?"


    "Because you, of all people, know the truth," Riven said smoothly. "You spent years as a merchant before rising to nobility, traveling beyond this kingdom''s borders. You''ve seen magic in all its forms¡ªflames that burn blue, green, even silver. You know that black fire is just another variation of elemental magic." He leaned forward slightly, his smirk sharpening. "At least¡­ that''s the story you''ll tell them."


    His voice dipped into something almost conspiratorial. "With your reputation, your knowledge, no one will question you. You can dismantle the king''s accusations in a single breath."


    Silence stretched between them.


    Riven could see the gears turning in Deveroux''s mind. The man was considering it. He had no loyalty to the king¡ªhis true allegiance was to power and wealth.


    But doubt still lingered in his eyes.


    Riven sighed, shaking his head as he slowly stood. "You''re hesitating. That''s unfortunate." He raised a hand, fingers twitching as abyssal energy coiled around them. "Let''s make this decision easier for you."


    Before Deveroux could react, Riven snapped his fingers.


    The shadows in the room lengthened unnaturally. The candlelight dimmed, the flickering flames seeming to distort, warping into something twisted and wrong.


    The Duke''s breath caught in his throat. The air grew heavy, oppressive. The walls of his grand study blurred at the edges, and then¡ª


    Everything shattered.


    ¡ªx¡ª


    Deveroux''s world twisted violently.


    One moment, he was in his lavish study, the scent of parchment and aged whiskey lingering in the air. The next, he was somewhere else entirely.


    The cold hit him first.


    A harsh wind howled through the empty streets, biting through his fine robes as though they were nothing. His hands instinctively reached for the warmth of his robes, but all he felt was the rough, tattered fabric of something unfamiliar.


    Rags.


    His clothes had been reduced to filthy, threadbare layers. His once-pristine boots were gone, replaced by thin, worn-out soles barely keeping his feet from the frozen cobblestones beneath him. Panic flared in his chest as he stumbled forward, eyes darting around.


    This was¡­ the capital? No¡ªsome ruined, decayed version of it.


    The grand noble district was gone, replaced by crumbling buildings and streets filled with filth. The scent of rot and desperation clung to the air, suffocating him. In the distance, the towering spires of his estate were nowhere to be seen.


    He turned a corner and nearly collided with a figure¡ªa beggar, hunched over, cloaked in tattered cloth, their skeletal fingers outstretched toward him.


    "Please¡­ spare a coin, my lord," the beggar croaked.


    Deveroux recoiled in disgust¡ªuntil he saw the man''s face.


    His own.


    His breath caught, horror clawing at his throat as he stepped back, shaking his head. No. No, this wasn''t real. This wasn''t happening.


    He turned, frantic, his feet slipping on the icy ground. More beggars lined the streets, but they weren''t strangers.


    They were him.


    Dozens of versions of himself¡ªhollow-eyed, gaunt, clothed in rags, crawling through the gutters like starving rats. Their voices overlapped, whispering, begging, pleading.


    "Please, just a single gold coin¡ª"


    "Just one more deal, one more trade¡ª"


    "I used to be a Duke¡ªdon''t you recognize me?"


    Deveroux clutched his head, his heartbeat hammering against his skull. This was impossible. This was a trick.


    Then, from the corner of his eye, he saw it.


    A procession of shadow-cloaked riders moved through the streets, their steeds silent, their presence suffocating. At their center, a grand carriage, its blackened metal frame adorned with twisting, abyssal runes, rolled forward with an eerie grace. The wheels did not grind against the cobblestone¡ªthey glided, untouched, as if the very ground bowed before them.


    The crest emblazoned upon the side was unfamiliar to the common folk, but to Deveroux, it was unmistakable. He was one of the few that remembered.


    The Shadow Kingdom.


    The carriage door did not simply open¡ªit dissolved into swirling shadows, parting like a veil of night itself. From within, a figure emerged, wrapped in an aura of seething darkness.


    Riven stepped onto the streets, his presence eclipsing all else.


    He was not dressed in gold or silk like mortal kings. No, his robes were woven from the void, shifting like living shadows against his form. A dark crown¡ªan impossible, writhing thing¡ªrested upon his brow, its edges flickering as though caught between reality and nightmare. The air around him warped, heavy with an unseen weight, an authority that needed no announcement.


    The nobles who lined the streets fell to their knees without hesitation.


    They did not bow in deference. They knelt in fear.


    Abyssal flames coiled at his fingertips, a power restrained, yet undeniable. His gaze swept the street, cold and impassive, until it landed upon Deveroux.


    He did not speak. He did not need to.


    The weight of his gaze alone was enough to strip away Deveroux''s breath, pressing upon him like an unseen force, suffocating and absolute.


    Then, with a flick of his wrist, a single coin materialized from the shadows, gleaming in the unnatural dimness.


    It tumbled through the air, slow, deliberate.


    With a hollow clink, it landed at Deveroux''s feet.


    The streets fell into utter silence.


    And in that moment, as the Dark King turned away, Deveroux understood¡ª


    This was not merely a nightmare.


    This was inevitable.


    His knees buckled.


    The beggars around him reached for the coin scrambling, clawing at the frozen stone as if that single coin was salvation itself. Their wails filled the air, their hands grabbing at his robes, pulling him down into the filth.


    He tried to scream, but the weight of his own failures crushed the air from his lungs.


    Then¡ª


    Darkness.


    ¡ªx¡ª


    The Duke gasped awake.


    He was back.


    His study was as it had been, the warmth of the fireplace crackling behind him. His hands flew to his chest, gripping at his fine robes, his breaths coming in ragged, panicked bursts.


    It took him several moments to register Riven''s presence.


    The young man was still there, sitting across from him, his expression calm. Relaxed. His abyssal flames flickered softly at his fingertips as he observed the Duke''s reaction with the faintest trace of amusement.


    "What¡­ what did you do to me?" Deveroux rasped, his throat dry.


    Riven tilted his head slightly, his voice as smooth as silk. "I merely showed you a possibility. A future that could happen."


    Deveroux swallowed thickly. He could still feel it¡ªthe biting cold, the desperation, the crushing weight of loss. He had lived years in that nightmare, clawing at the edges of his own failure, watching as everything he had built crumbled into nothing.


    Yet, he had only been unconscious for mere seconds.


    His fingers trembled as he rubbed at his temple. He couldn''t afford to show weakness, but his body betrayed him.


    Riven leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand. "Now," he murmured, his voice dangerously quiet, "shall we reconsider our little arrangement?"


    The Duke''s throat bobbed as he swallowed hard. The room felt unbearably small, suffocating.


    He had no choice.


    His pride screamed at him to resist, but the nightmare still clawed at the edges of his mind, reminding him of what would happen if he chose wrong.


    His jaw clenched. "Fine," he ground out. "I will¡­ support your claim. At tomorrow''s summons, I will discredit the king''s accusations."


    Riven''s smirk returned, slow and victorious. "Good," he murmured, standing to his full height. "I knew you were a reasonable man, Duke Deveroux."


    The Duke exhaled shakily, his fingers tightening around the armrests of his chair. He would play along¡ªfor now.


    But deep down, he knew.


    Riven wasn''t just another noble seeking favor.


    He was something else entirely.


    And the kingdom had no idea what was coming.

 Chapter 63 - 63: Royal Summons

    The morning sun barely peeked over the horizon, casting long, hesitant shadows across the capital. The air was thick with the tension of the impending summons, but Riven moved through the city with an easy grace, dressed in simple black student robes. His presence alone was enough to attract whispers, but without the usual grandeur of noble attire, he was merely another figure in the crowd.


    His generals, however, played their roles perfectly.


    Krux, clad in worn mercenary gear, lingered near the academy gates like a common sellsword waiting for their employer. Nyx, draped in a traveler''s cloak, remained perched on a rooftop nearby, her sharp eyes scanning the city streets for any sign of trouble. Aria, unseen but ever-present, walked in the shadows, her daggers concealed beneath the folds of her cloak.


    The illusion was perfect.


    To any observer, Riven was merely a noble student taking extra precautions, his ''hired guards'' standing at a respectful distance.


    It was all calculated.


    And yet, as Riven approached the looming entrance of Drakar Estate, he knew this next act would require more than just strategy.


    It required performance.


    The estate was unchanged from his last visit¡ªlooming stone walls, banners of deep crimson fluttering in the wind. It was a fortress masquerading as a home, much like the man who ruled it.


    As he entered the main hall, Count Drakar stood waiting.


    The man was a relic of a bygone era¡ªtall and broad-shouldered, his graying hair meticulously combed back, a testament to his unwavering discipline. His lone crimson eye, the other concealed beneath a sleek black eyepatch, fixed on Riven with quiet intensity. There was no outright hostility in his gaze, only sharp calculation, the measured scrutiny of a man who weighed everything by its worth. For now, Riven had proven himself useful, and so Count Drakar''s regard held a rare, if fleeting, favor.


    And beside him, like a poised dagger waiting to strike, stood Lady Etna Drakar.


    The tension was immediate.


    Riven strode forward with measured steps, his expression composed, unreadable. He had played this game before¡ªstepping into the lion''s den, maneuvering through veiled hostility, twisting the rules to suit him. Today would be no different.


    Lady Etna Drakar''s presence was as insufferable as ever. She stood at her husband''s side, poised with the elegance of a viper, her fine crimson gown tailored to perfection. Every detail of her was carefully curated to exude power, but her eyes¡ªthose sharp, icy things¡ªbetrayed her displeasure at the sight of him.


    Riven had long since learned not to rise to the bait.


    "Father." He inclined his head respectfully, his tone carrying just the right amount of deference. "I trust the preparations for today''s summons have been smooth."


    Count Drakar regarded him for a long moment before giving a slow nod. "Everything is in place." His voice was as steady as ever¡ªcalm, measured. "We will be traveling to the palace together. A show of unity."


    A show of power, more like. Riven knew the Count well enough to understand his every move served a purpose. Presenting himself as a father willing to stand behind all his sons¡ªlegitimate or otherwise¡ªwas a calculated display. It gave the impression that Drakar blood was worth something, that even an outcast could be reclaimed should they prove themselves.


    "Of course," Riven replied smoothly. "It would be an honor."


    A scoff came from the side.


    Cole Drakar.


    Riven''s half-brother leaned against the marble railing of the staircase, arms crossed, a smirk tugging at his lips. The arrogance in his posture was unmistakable. He was dressed in fine noble attire, crimson and black, a deliberate contrast to Riven''s humble student robes.


    "And here I thought you''d be groveling at the King''s feet by now," Cole mused, his voice dripping with condescension. "You do realize this summons isn''t a reward, don''t you? The King isn''t calling you to congratulate you."


    Riven barely glanced at him, instead turning his gaze back to Count Drakar. "Cole seems rather concerned for my well-being. How thoughtful."


    Cole''s smirk faltered.


    Count Drakar''s gaze flicked toward his eldest son, unimpressed. "Enough, Cole."


    "But¡ª"


    Drakar cut him off with a sharp look. "I will not have petty squabbles before the royal summons. You will hold your tongue."


    Cole''s expression darkened, but he bit back his words. His frustration simmered beneath the surface, barely restrained, and Riven relished the subtle victory.


    Still, he wasn''t done.


    Riven allowed a slow, almost amused smile to curl at the corner of his lips. "My brother is right, of course. The King is not calling me for praise." He turned his gaze back to Cole, watching as his brother straightened at the shift in his tone. "That is why I must be prepared¡ªto ensure our family''s name is not tarnished by baseless accusations."


    Cole''s jaw clenched, realizing too late that Riven had twisted his words into something that made him seem both dutiful and responsible. Lady Etna, standing ever so still, exhaled sharply through her nose, clearly displeased by how easily Riven had maneuvered the conversation.


    Count Drakar studied him for a beat longer, then gave a slight nod. "Good. Then let us not waste time."


    He turned on his heel, leading them toward the waiting carriages. Riven followed with the same measured grace, his mind already a step ahead, already prepared for whatever lay beyond the palace gates.


    ¡ªx¡ª


    The streets of the capital were alive with murmurs as the Drakar carriage rolled steadily toward the palace. Heavy banners of deep crimson, emblazoned with the sigil of House Drakar, rippled in the wind¡ªa silent proclamation of their power. Onlookers watched, some whispering in hushed tones, others daring to stare openly at the noble house known for its ruthless ambition.


    Inside the carriage, the tension was almost suffocating.


    Riven sat beside Count Drakar, his posture poised, his expression carefully neutral. Across from him sat Lady Etna and Cole, their presence as stifling as ever. But this time, there was another figure sitting beside Cole¡ªhis half-sister, Ember Drakar.


    Unlike her younger brother, Ember''s expression wasn''t marred by arrogance or disdain. Unlike Cole, she had actually spent time with Riven, growing familiar with him as he joined the second year. There was an understanding between them, one built not on blood, but on something quieter¡ªacknowledgment. As their father and stepmother remained impassive, and Cole stewed in his usual irritation, Ember allowed herself the smallest of smiles. Subtle, fleeting¡ªjust enough for Riven to catch, yet not enough to draw their family''s attention. A silent show of support.


    The Count, as always, was the first to break the silence.


    "Tell me, Riven," he said, his voice low yet firm. "How do you intend to handle today''s accusations?"


    There was no question of if accusations would come. It was an inevitability.


    Riven met his father''s gaze steadily. "I already have something in place."


    A flicker of something unreadable passed through the Count''s single crimson eye, his other still hidden beneath his sleek black eyepatch. After a brief pause, he gave a small nod. "You''ve grown." The words were simple, but they carried weight. It was not mere observation¡ªit was an acknowledgment, a subtle recognition that Riven had changed since first leaving for the academy.


    Cole scoffed, shifting irritably in his seat. "Empty words," he muttered, his arms crossing over his chest. "The King doesn''t play games. He will make an example of you for whatever you''ve done."


    Riven tilted his head ever so slightly, his expression calm, composed. "An example?" he echoed, as if turning the thought over in his mind. Then, with a measured ease, he smiled. "Curious. I was under the impression that the King values strength above all else. And yet, you speak as though he is eager to cast aside those who prove themselves capable."


    Cole''s scowl deepened. "Your flames are unnatural," he spat. "You flaunt them as if they are something to be proud of, but everyone knows what black fire truly is."


    "Oh?" Riven hummed, resting his hands lightly on his lap. "And what would that be, brother? Enlighten me."


    Cole''s jaw clenched, the words unspoken but thick in the air.


    Necromancy.


    It was what the King suspected. What the court whispered. What every noble sought to confirm. Black fire was rare¡ªfeared¡ªassociated with abyssal arts, death, and ruin. It was not something tolerated within Solis, not when the King himself had spent years ensuring that such magic remained a myth of the past.


    And yet, here Riven was.


    Ember''s gaze flickered between them, her hands folded neatly in her lap, but Riven did not miss the tension in her shoulders. Unlike Cole, she wasn''t looking at him with fear or disgust. If anything, there was a quiet curiosity, a subtle concern buried beneath the surface.


    Lady Etna, however, had no such reservations. Her lips pressed into a thin line, and though she remained silent, the barely concealed contempt in her eyes spoke volumes.


    Count Drakar exhaled through his nose, his single crimson eye sharp with consideration. Then, he turned his gaze toward Cole, his tone clipped. "Enough."


    Cole''s fingers curled into fists, his frustration barely restrained, but he obeyed. He always obeyed.


    Drakar shifted his focus back to Riven. "You understand the weight of today''s audience," he said, his voice measured. "If the King deems you a threat, you will not walk away unscathed."


    Riven met his father''s gaze evenly. "Then I suppose I must give him no reason to." S§×ar?h the N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    A flicker of something unreadable passed through the Count''s expression¡ªapproval, perhaps. Or interest.


    "You truly have grown," Drakar murmured, more to himself than to Riven. Then, after a pause, he leaned back against the carriage seat. "See that you do not waste the opportunity."


    Riven inclined his head in quiet acknowledgment.


    The carriage rolled to a slow stop.


    Outside, the towering gates of the royal palace loomed, their gold and obsidian filigree glinting under the mid-morning sun. The capital''s nobility had already begun to gather in the vast courtyard, their fine silks and embroidered robes a striking contrast to the armed guards stationed at every corner.


    The moment Riven stepped out of the carriage, whispers began.


    He did not flinch under the weight of the stares. He did not acknowledge the hushed voices that carried his name, nor the sideways glances filled with suspicion and curiosity alike.


    Instead, he merely exhaled, adjusting his black student robes.


    The King was waiting.


    ¡ªx¡ª


    The throne room was a vast chamber of white marble and gilded columns, its high ceilings adorned with banners displaying the crest of Solis¡ªthe radiant sun wreathed in gold and crimson. Torches lined the walls, their flames flickering with an eerie steadiness, casting long shadows across the room.


    At the far end of the chamber, seated upon his throne of white and gold, was King Aldric of Solis.


    His presence was commanding, his golden eyes sharp beneath the weight of his crown. His golden hair, a stark contrast to the dark red of his attire, framed a face carved by time and war. Though his posture was regal, there was an unmistakable tension in the way he rested one hand against the armrest of his throne¡ªfingers tapping idly against the gilded surface.


    He was waiting.


    For Riven.


    As the murmurs faded, one of the royal attendants stepped forward.


    "Riven Drakar," the man announced, his voice carrying through the chamber. "You stand before His Majesty, King Aldric of Solis. Speak your name and station."


    Riven took a slow step forward, the weight of the court''s gaze pressing down on him.


    "Riven Drakar," he said smoothly. "Second-year student of the Academy."


    Not a noble. Not an heir. Not a son of Drakar.


    A student.


    A deliberate choice.


    The King regarded him in silence. Then, with a slow, measured breath, he leaned forward, his gaze piercing.


    "Tell me," Aldric said, his voice deceptively calm, "why does my court speak of a student wielding flames that should not exist?"


    The question hung in the air, heavy with implication.


    Riven did not falter.


    He smiled.


    "Because fear is a powerful thing, Your Majesty," he said. "And people fear what they do not understand."

 Chapter 64 - 64: It’s time

    Silence followed Riven''s words, stretching long and taut, a held breath across the throne room.


    Then, murmurs rippled through the assembled nobility¡ªhushed whispers laced with unease, curiosity, and barely veiled scorn.


    Riven remained still, his hands folded neatly before him, his posture relaxed but deliberate. His simple black student robes, devoid of excessive embroidery or gold embellishments, contrasted starkly with the ostentatious finery of the court. It was not a display of humility, but of control. He had dressed as a student because that was what they had summoned.


    Not a noble.


    Not a threat.


    The King observed him for a long, assessing moment, golden eyes like burning embers beneath the weight of his crown.


    Then he spoke.


    "You believe this is a matter of fear?" His tone was calm, but there was something simmering beneath it, something old and sharpened by experience. "That my court cowers simply because they do not understand?"


    Riven smiled just enough to be polite. "It is the foundation of many rumors, Your Majesty. Fear thrives in ignorance, and the unknown is often mistaken for danger." His gaze flickered, sweeping the room, making sure every noble present knew he spoke of them. "It is easier to whisper of dark arts and forbidden power than to consider something new. Easier to fear than to question."


    The murmurs rose again¡ªmore fervent this time.


    Riven let them.


    He needed them unsettled.


    The King exhaled slowly, his fingers still tapping idly against the gilded armrest of his throne. "And what, then, do you claim your magic to be, Riven Drakar?"


    Now, this was the true test.


    Riven knew the King had already formed an opinion of him. Aldric was not a man who acted on impulse¡ªhe was a ruler shaped by war and politics, by the constant demand to balance power in a court filled with vipers. If the King believed, even for a second, that Riven''s power could not be controlled, the summons would end with an execution.


    Or worse.


    Riven met his gaze, steady and unwavering.


    "It''s nothing more than fire magic," he said effortlessly. "As you know, I am the son of House Drakar, a lineage renowned for mastering pyro magic for generations. While it''s true that my flames are an unusual color, there are documented cases of fire attuned to more than just heat¡ªflames that burn blue, silver, even violet. The hue is merely a reflection of the caster''s mana composition."


    "Then tell me," the King said, leaning forward slightly, his golden eyes narrowing, "why is it that my court mages¡ªscholars who have spent their entire lives studying elemental affinities¡ªcannot name a single precedent for black fire except for a time when dark magic corrupted this continent?"


    A well-laid trap.


    A test of composure.


    Riven did not take the bait.


    "Because knowledge is limited to those willing to seek it, Your Majesty," he answered evenly. "There are lands beyond Solis where magic manifests differently, where fire takes on more than the hues of red and gold. There are tomes and scrolls¡ªhidden, lost, or dismissed¡ªthat detail such variations. It is not a matter of impossibility, but of reluctance to look beyond what is already known."


    He allowed the weight of his words to settle.


    Then, for good measure, he added, "I would be happy to present such records to your court if given the opportunity."


    A silence more dangerous than any outburst followed.


    A calculated risk.


    If he suggested that the King''s scholars lacked knowledge, he risked offense.


    But if he suggested the King''s court had not properly investigated before summoning him¡­ then suddenly, it was not his credibility on trial.


    It was theirs.


    King Aldric regarded him with the look of a man who was rarely challenged so delicately. Then, slowly, he leaned back in his throne.


    "Interesting," he murmured.


    The tension in the room remained thick, but now it was different. The focus had shifted¡ªnot away from Riven entirely, but toward the murmuring nobles. The scholars, the mages, the advisors¡ªmen and women who were now keenly aware that their King was considering Riven''s words.


    Riven almost smiled.


    He wasn''t out of danger.


    "But is it not true that you have acquired a necromancy skill?" The king''s words were slow and deliberate, each syllable carrying a weight that threatened to crush.


    The nobles held their breath, tension thick in the air as all eyes turned to Riven.


    "Yes, I have learned a necromancy skill," Riven declared. The court teetered on the brink of an uproar, but before the chaos could break loose, he continued swiftly. "But is it not also true that I had no choice in the matter? The skill was assigned to me during the academy''s third trial. Without accepting it, I would have never secured my place in the academy."


    "I''ve never even used the skill¡ªhonestly, I''m still rather wounded by the fact that I was forced to learn it without any understanding of its consequences." Riven adopted a look of feigned sorrow as he spoke.


    Before anyone else could speak, another voice sliced through the silence like tempered steel.


    "Magic is not in question here," Duke Deveroux announced, stepping forward from where he had been standing amongst the nobility. His voice carried the confidence of a man who had already planned his words carefully. "The boy speaks well, but there is more to this matter than what his flames are."


    Riven turned his head slightly, meeting the Duke''s gaze.


    The very same Duke who had woken in a cold sweat last night, the taste of desperation and poverty still lingering on his tongue.


    The Duke hesitated, if only for a fraction of a second.


    Then he recovered.


    His expression was calm. His posture was perfect.


    But Riven saw it.


    The slight tension in his jaw.


    The way his fingers curled subtly, as if remembering the feeling of frozen cobblestone beneath them.


    A man who had once stood in his nightmare and feared it.


    The Duke exhaled through his nose. "The concern, Your Majesty, is whether or not this flame¡ªwhatever its nature¡ªposes a danger to the Kingdom."


    Riven tilted his head, as if considering.


    "Then perhaps we should clarify, Duke Deveroux," he said smoothly. "What exactly do you believe I have done that threatens the Kingdom?"


    Deveroux''s expression didn''t shift. He was too experienced for that.


    But there was a long pause.


    Because there was no crime.


    No evidence.


    No dark rituals, no resurrected corpses, no sacrificial offerings laid bare before the court.


    The silence stretched once more, thick with the weight of expectation. The nobles, the scholars, the mages¡ªthey all waited, some for the Duke to strike, others to see if Riven would falter.


    But Duke Deveroux was a merchant before he was a noble, and a merchant knew when to cut losses and shift the game.


    "I have traveled far beyond the borders of Solis," the Duke said at last, his voice measured, controlled. "I have seen flames that do not burn red. I have spoken to mages who wield fire in shades unseen in our kingdom. The boy is not lying."


    A murmur rippled through the court, hushed but undeniable. Riven allowed himself the smallest flicker of amusement¡ªDeveroux had chosen his words carefully. The boy is not lying, not the boy is innocent. A distinction that left the Duke room to maneuver should the tide turn against Riven.


    The King''s golden eyes sharpened, focusing on the Duke. "You swear this to be true?"


    "I do," Deveroux affirmed, bowing his head just enough to show respect without subservience. "I have witnessed it myself. Different lands cultivate different magics. We would be fools to assume that what is unknown to us is unnatural."


    Riven did not miss the way some nobles stiffened, their egos bristling at the implication.


    The King studied Deveroux for a long moment before exhaling. He leaned back once more, fingers resuming their idle tapping against the gilded armrest. "Then the matter of his flames is settled. But the necromancy skill remains."


    Another test. Another snare.


    Riven met the King''s gaze head-on. "I have never used it, nor have I had any intent to. As I said before, I was given no choice in acquiring it. I could have refused, certainly, but then I would not be standing here today, a student of the Academy. That was the nature of the trial."


    "And yet," the King mused, "it is part of you now."


    Riven did not flinch. "As many things are, Your Majesty. A man may wield a sword and never take a life. A scholar may learn of poisons and never brew a vial. A merchant may trade in knowledge of war without ever lifting a blade. Possession does not equal intent."


    The murmurs returned¡ªsome intrigued, some doubtful. The nobles were split now, caught between reason and suspicion.


    The King, however, was not so easily swayed. "But magic is not a sword. It is not a trade. It is an extension of the self. A man can put aside steel, but can you put aside this skill?"


    A dangerous question.


    Riven let a beat pass before answering. "Perhaps not, Your Majesty. But neither can I change the fact that it was forced upon me. Would you have me executed for something I have not done? Would you burn me for a crime I have yet to commit?"


    The court bristled. The air tightened.


    Riven had just turned the question on its head. If the King ruled against him now, it would not be for his actions¡ªit would be for potential. A dangerous precedent to set.


    A long silence followed.


    Then the King did something unexpected.


    He laughed.


    A single exhale of amusement, quiet but unmistakable. "You argue well," he admitted. His gaze flickered across the court, noting the nobles who had begun to shift uncomfortably. "You have made a great many people think today, Riven Drakar."


    A pause. Then¡ª


    "I will not punish a man for a crime not yet committed."


    The words rang through the hall like a hammer striking an anvil.


    Relief washed over some faces. Others darkened with frustration. But none dared to object.


    The King''s eyes settled back on Riven, unreadable. "You will remain under watch while you study at the Academy. Should you give me reason to doubt you, I will act. Is that understood?"


    Riven bowed slightly. "Perfectly, Your Majesty."


    The King regarded him for a moment longer, then waved a hand. "This court is adjourned."


    The tension in the room broke like a snapped thread. Nobles turned to whisper amongst themselves, some already moving toward the exits.


    Riven exhaled slowly, steadying himself. He had won¡ªthis battle, at least.


    As he turned, he caught Duke Deveroux watching him, expression unreadable.


    The Duke inclined his head ever so slightly.


    An unspoken message.


    ''I have upheld my end of the deal, now you must uphold yours.''


    ¡ªx¡ª


    The carriage ride back to Drakar Manor was silent.


    Riven sat across from Ember, his hands folded neatly in his lap as the city streets blurred past the window. Their father, Count Drakar, sat beside him, his expression unreadable as ever.


    Across from him, Lady Etna Drakar remained poised, her delicate fingers tracing the rim of a crystal goblet she had brought from the estate¡ªan indulgence, as always, to remind those around her of her refinement.


    Cole was brooding in his corner, his arms crossed, his jaw clenched so tight Riven thought he''d crack a tooth.


    The weight of the King''s ruling still lingered.


    He was not declared a heretic. Not a criminal.


    But he was being watched.


    That alone was enough to unsettle the balance within their house.


    As they reached the manor, the servants were already prepared. The dining hall had been set with the finest silverware, the long wooden table adorned with dark red silks and candlelight. House Drakar did not host extravagant feasts¡ªsuch displays were for lesser nobles who needed to prove their wealth. No, their power was in control, in precision, in the mere fact that everything was arranged exactly as it should be.


    The meal was served swiftly. Roast venison seasoned with rare herbs, flame-seared salmon, and a selection of dark fruits native to the northern regions. The wine, deep and spiced, was poured into each goblet in measured amounts.


    The Count did not speak until the first few bites had been taken.


    Then, finally, he set his knife down and looked at Riven.


    "You handled yourself well," he said, his tone as steady as ever. "The King did not execute you. That is an achievement."


    Lady Etna inhaled sharply, but did not interrupt.


    Riven, unfazed, wiped the corner of his mouth with his napkin before answering. "I did what was necessary."


    The Count studied him for a moment before giving a slow nod. "So you did."


    Cole scoffed, stabbing his fork into his venison. "Is that all? He stood before the King accused of necromancy, and you reward him with praise?"


    The Count''s gaze flicked to his other son, unimpressed. "The King has spoken. He has not ruled Riven guilty, nor has he removed him from the Academy. That means he is still valuable."


    Cole''s scowl deepened, but he did not argue further.


    Ember, for the first time that evening, spoke up. "Still, it was close," she murmured, swirling her goblet of wine. "The court will not forget. And neither will the other noble houses." Her crimson eyes met Riven''s, keen with curiosity. "You know that, don''t you?"


    Riven inclined his head. "I would be a fool not to."


    Ember smiled slightly and leaned back in her chair. "Which means you must tread carefully," she said, "No more reckless decisions, no more surprises."


    Riven smiled slightly. "I would never be reckless."


    She snorted, shaking her head. "Liar."


    The Count tapped his fingers against the table, drawing attention back to him. "Regardless of what the court thinks, you are still my son," he said, his voice calm but firm. "House Drakar will stand by you. But do not mistake my support for complacency." He leaned forward slightly, his crimson eye glinting in the candlelight. "If your actions threaten this house, I will handle the matter myself."


    A warning.


    A promise.


    Riven met his father''s gaze evenly. "Understood."


    A silence settled over the table, thick and deliberate.


    Then, his stepmother, who had remained silent until now, set her goblet down with a soft clink. "Do you truly expect us to pretend this disgrace never happened?" Her voice was smooth, but beneath it lurked a sharp edge of barely veiled contempt. "Do you think the court will simply overlook what they witnessed today? We will be made a spectacle!"


    The Count glanced at her briefly before returning to his meal. "The court will forget when something more interesting happens. That is the way of power."


    Lady Etna''s lips pressed into a thin line, but she did not argue further.


    Riven resisted the urge to smile.


    ¡ªx¡ª


    By nightfall, it was time to return to the Academy.


    The carriage was readied once more, though this time, only Riven and Ember would be making the journey back. Cole¡ªthankfully¡ªrefused to share the same space and opted for a separate carriage instead.


    As they stood outside the grand entrance, the Count watched them with his usual calculating gaze. "You have bought yourself time," he said, his words directed at Riven. "Use it well."


    Riven nodded once.


    The Count exhaled, then turned without another word, disappearing back into the manor. Lady Etna had already retreated earlier, clearly unwilling to see them off.


    Back in the dimly lit mausoleum, Riven was met with the eager gazes of his generals.


    "That was exhausting," he sighed, sinking onto a crumbling stone bench. "It felt like being trapped in a den of vipers."


    His generals crowded around him, their once-feared presence softened by unrestrained excitement like little puppies.


    "But you did it!" Nyx beamed. "The King won''t push any further¡ªat least for now."


    Riven chuckled, glancing at the shining, hopeful eyes of warriors meant to be feared, not wide-eyed with anticipation like eager apprentices. "Yes," he murmured. "We''ve bought ourselves some time."


    Krux practically vibrated with excitement. "Which means¡­" S§×ar?h the novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Riven exhaled, a rare, genuine smile curling his lips¡ªone not born from strategy or calculation, but from something deeper. Something real.


    "Yes," he said, voice steady with conviction. "It''s time to rebuild our Shadow Kingdom¡ªour home."

 Chapter 65 - 65: The Departure Begins

    Rumors spread like wildfire around the academy after the royal summons.


    Whispers filled the corridors, speculation twisting into wild tales¡ªsome claimed Riven had barely escaped execution, others insisted he had been marked by the King himself, cursed to be watched until the day he slipped up. A few dared to say he had challenged the King outright and survived, though those who truly understood politics knew such a thing was impossible.


    But among the more sinister whispers, a new rumor began to take root¡ªone far darker, far more dangerous.


    They said Riven was truly a necromancer.


    That his fire was not fire at all, but something unnatural. That he had deceived the King, tricked the court, and that he was the one that was leading the undead to attack the kingdom.


    Fear spread with each retelling, with each exaggerated account of black flames and whispered power. Students who once spoke freely in his presence now hesitated. Some avoided his gaze entirely.


    A few even flinched when he walked past.


    Riven noticed.


    He did not acknowledge it, did not seek to correct them. He let the fear settle, let it take root, let it become something greater than truth.


    Fear was a powerful thing.


    And it would serve him well.


    Through it all, he moved with the same calculated ease he always did. He answered no questions, entertained no gossip, and let the mystery thicken around him.


    Because soon, he would be gone.


    And when the truth was finally revealed, it would already be too late.


    ¡ªx¡ª


    Late at night, under the solemn hush of the academy''s grand library, Riven stood before Sana¡ªthe acolyte who had become his first undead warrior.


    "You understand your role?" he asked, voice low.


    Sana, cloaked in the deep gray of her order, nodded, her gaze steady under the blindfold, despite the weight of the task he was leaving her with. "I will remain here," she confirmed. "Maintain appearances. Gather what knowledge I can and oversee your shadow clone. If anything changes, you will know."


    Riven studied Sana carefully, ensuring she understood the weight of her task. This wasn''t just about maintaining an illusion¡ªit was about securing his escape and ensuring no one suspected a thing. If anyone realized he was missing before his preparations were complete, it could unravel everything.


    "You are the only one who will interact with the shadow clone," Riven instructed, his voice low but firm. "No one else. Not the instructors, not the students. If they ask why I''m keeping to myself, you''ll say I''ve been preoccupied with training."


    Sana nodded, her posture unwavering. "And if someone grows too suspicious?"


    "Divert them," Riven said smoothly. "You are still an acolyte of the library. Use that authority to keep people at a distance. If necessary, plant rumors¡ªsuggest that I am seeking rare tomes, that my magic has become unstable, that I require solitude to control it." He smirked. "People already fear me. Let them make their own excuses."


    Sana tilted her head slightly, as if considering his words from every possible angle. "And if someone directly challenges the clone?"


    Riven exhaled slowly. That was the true risk. His shadow clone was incredibly advanced¡ªalmost indistinguishable from the real him in both mannerisms and energy signature¡ªbut they had limits. Prolonged combat or any situation that required independent thought would drain Riven''s mana and the clone would cease to exist.


    "If it comes to that," he said, "delay them. Stall for as long as you can and inform me immediately." His fingers curled slightly, the abyssal flames flickering to life at his fingertips. "If I need to return to maintain the illusion, I will. But only if absolutely necessary."


    Sana nodded again, the blindfold concealing any hint of hesitation. "Understood, Master."


    Riven studied her a moment longer, then finally exhaled. She was reliable. Unwavering. And most importantly¡ªloyal.


    With one last glance at the vast, dimly lit library around them, he turned on his heel. "Then we begin."


    He raised his hand, and the darkness coiled around his palm, stretching outward like a living thing. Shadows rippled across the stone floor as his abyssal energy surged, coalescing into a perfect replica of himself¡ªdown to the last detail.


    The clone blinked, stretching its fingers as if testing its own existence. Then, with an infuriatingly lazy smirk, it flicked its gaze toward Riven.


    "Took you long enough," the clone drawled, rolling its shoulders. "I was starting to think you were getting sentimental."


    Riven''s expression remained blank. "You know your role."


    The clone smirked. "Of course I do. Sit in the training hall, look intimidating, throw around some fire if needed, and occasionally glare at people so they think you''re brooding. Easy."


    Sana remained quiet, but Riven could sense the faintest trace of amusement in her aura.


    He exhaled sharply. "Just don''t speak more than necessary. The last thing I need is my own clone being too charismatic."


    The clone snickered but gave a lazy salute. "Fine, fine. I''ll keep my stunning personality to myself."


    Riven rolled his eyes before turning back to Sana. "Ensure he stays in character."


    She nodded. "It will be done."


    With that final confirmation, Riven stepped back into the shadows. The weight of his plan settled over him¡ªnot as doubt, but as certainty.


    ¡ªx¡ª


    Nyx, Krux, and Aria were waiting for him at the rendezvous point beyond the walls. But first, he needed to make his exit clean.


    Riven retraced his steps from the other night, his boots moving soundlessly over the worn path until he reached the crumbling section of the academy''s outer wall.


    He paused.


    A strange weight settled in his bones as he stared at the fractured stone. Once he passed through, there would be no turning back¡ªnot for a while.


    Since awakening in this world, his life had been confined to two places: House Drakar and the Academy. Walls had always surrounded him, whether physical or invisible, shaping the limits of his existence. But now¡­ those limits no longer applied.


    Beyond this broken wall lay something new. A world untouched. A future unwritten. A kingdom waiting to be reclaimed.


    Riven exhaled, taking one last look towards the academy. Then, with quiet finality, he stepped through the gap.


    The moment he emerged, he was met with the familiar scent of damp earth and the cool night air of the nearby forest.


    Nyx was the first to spot him, perched on a low-hanging branch, her sharp eyes flickering with amusement. "Took you long enough."


    Krux, leaning lazily against a tree, grinned. "Thought you got caught for a second."


    Aria, ever composed, merely gave him a once-over before nodding. "No complications?"


    "None," Riven confirmed, dusting off his robes. "The clone is in place, and Sana will ensure no one notices my absence."


    Nyx smirked. "So we''re really doing this."


    Riven''s lips curled into a slow smile. "Yes. It''s time."


    Krux stretched, cracking his knuckles. "Finally. No more sneaking around halls filled with self-important nobles. I was getting bored."


    Aria adjusted the straps on her satchel, her expression thoughtful. "We''ll need to move quickly. The sooner we reach the remnants of the Shadow Kingdom, the better."


    Riven nodded. Their journey was just beginning.


    Beyond the capital, past the vast stretches of untamed wilderness, lay the ruins of a once-mighty nation. A kingdom swallowed by history, forgotten by time.


    But after Riven reclaimed his throne once more, none shall ever forget it again.


    ¡ªx¡ª


    The outskirts of the capital were quiet at this hour, the streets near empty save for a few weary travelers and merchants preparing for the morning market. The deeper into the outskirts they went, the less refined the roads became¡ªcobblestone giving way to packed dirt, elegant lanterns replaced by dim torches flickering against the cold wind.


    Riven''s group moved with purpose, keeping to the shadows where necessary, yet never appearing as if they were sneaking. Suspicion was drawn to those who acted as if they didn''t belong. Instead, they walked with the ease of seasoned travelers, blending into the quiet hum of the city''s edge.


    A small stable came into view, nestled between a rundown tavern and an old trading post. It wasn''t the grand establishments that serviced noble houses, nor the well-guarded posts that supplied the royal cavalry. This was a place for those who wanted speed over papers, for those who didn''t want their transactions recorded.


    Exactly what they needed.


    Riven approached first, his steps slow, measured. A single stable hand¡ªan older man with weathered skin and a sharp, calculating gaze¡ªleaned against one of the wooden posts, his arms crossed as if he had been expecting them.


    "You don''t look like the usual sort that comes ''round here," the man mused, glancing over the group. "And you don''t have the look of someone who''d be bringing back what he borrows."


    Riven smirked slightly, reaching into his inventory and pulling out a small pouch. It hit the man''s palm with a satisfying clink¡ªnot the hollow weight of coppers, but the heavy weight of pure gold.


    The stable hand weighed it carefully in his palm before peering inside, his eyes narrowing. He exhaled through his nose, clearly pleased.


    "I take it you need more than one."


    "Four," Riven said smoothly. "Fast. Sturdy."


    The man studied him for a moment longer before jerking his head toward the stables. "Follow me."


    Inside, the scent of hay and damp wood lingered in the air. Rows of stalls lined the interior, filled with various breeds¡ªsome lean and built for speed, others strong and meant for long-haul endurance. The stable hand led them toward a set of well-bred warhorses¡ªclearly taken from old cavalry units or stolen from noble stables.


    "These''ll take you far, provided you don''t run them into the ground," the man said. "Tack and saddlebags are included in the price."


    "Good," Riven said, passing him another smaller pouch¡ªenough to ensure the man didn''t mention their faces should anyone come asking.


    The stable hand grinned, pocketing the gold. "Pleasure doing business."


    Riven and the others wasted no time saddling their mounts. Nyx ran her fingers along the mane of a sleek black stallion, grinning. "Not bad."


    Krux, already atop his own mount, snorted. "As long as it doesn''t throw me off, I don''t care."


    Aria mounted gracefully, adjusting the strap on her satchel. "We should move. The longer we linger, the higher the risk."


    Riven swung himself onto his own horse, taking the reins with ease. The others followed suit, and within moments, they were already moving. Sear?h the N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The city gates loomed ahead.


    Even at this hour, the guards stood vigilant, but the academy''s insignia embroidered on Riven''s cloak ensured that they wouldn''t be stopped. To the soldiers, they were nothing more than third year students heading out for practical fieldwork¡ªa common enough occurrence.


    The guards barely gave them a second glance as they passed.


    And just like that, the city was behind them.


    The open road stretched ahead, winding through rolling hills and thick forests, illuminated only by the pale glow of the moon. The city''s towering walls faded into the distance, swallowed by the night.


    Riven exhaled, his grip on the reins tightening briefly. The unfamiliar strain in his legs reminded him that he was still adjusting to the saddle, his muscles already protesting. But as the wind rushed past him, tousling his hair and carrying the crisp scent of the open road, a rare feeling settled in his chest.


    Freedom.


    For the first time, he was truly free.

 Chapter 66 - 66: The Demon

    They rode hard through the night, their horses'' hooves pounding against the dirt road as the capital faded into the distance. The dense forests surrounding the city gave way to open fields, bathed in the pale glow of the moon. The air was crisp and carried the scent of damp earth and wildflowers, a stark contrast to the thick, incense-laden atmosphere of the academy.


    They stopped only when necessary¡ªbrief moments to rest their mounts, refill their waterskins from clear-running streams, or stretch their legs when the strain of riding for hours grew unbearable. But they never lingered long.


    Riven barely spoke, lost in his own thoughts as they pressed forward. This was the first time in his new life that he had been beyond the controlled walls of nobility or academia. He had memorized maps, read accounts of the land, but nothing compared to seeing it firsthand.


    The roads were winding, uneven in places, carved through dense wilderness. Strange birds called in the distance, and on occasion, they passed the remnants of old, abandoned settlements¡ªsmall villages swallowed by time, their stone walls crumbling, their existence nothing more than whispers of history.


    By midday, they reached a crossroads where an old milestone stood, its surface worn and cracked with age. The engraved lettering was barely legible, eroded by time and weather, but the directions remained clear. The northern path led to the frozen cliffs of Myrdal, a land of ice and unforgiving winds. To the east, the merchant hubs along the Serpent River promised bustling trade and wealth.


    And to the west¡ªtoward the Forgotten Wastes.


    A land abandoned, whispered about in passing but rarely spoken of in detail. Maps marked it as little more than uncharted wilderness, a place where travelers seldom returned. Official records claimed it was barren, lifeless. But Riven knew better.


    Their destination lay beyond those desolate lands. Hidden in the ruins of what the world had chosen to forget.


    They pushed forward.


    By evening, the terrain began to change. The forests thinned slightly, giving way to well-trodden roads lined with tall oaks and neatly stacked stone markers¡ªsigns of a maintained trade route. The road curved gently downward, leading toward the warm glow of lanterns flickering in the distance.


    A town.


    Not a grand city, but more than just a traveler''s rest. A waypoint, bustling enough to see regular trade but small enough to avoid the political weight of the capital. The buildings were sturdy, built from stone and dark timber, their roofs sloped to withstand heavy rains. Cobblestone streets wound between shops and homes, and iron lanterns hung from posts, casting steady pools of golden light.


    Smoke curled from chimneys, carrying the scent of roasting meat and fresh bread. Somewhere, the faint melody of a fiddle wove through the evening air, blending with the murmur of voices spilling from the town''s heart¡ªthe tavern.


    The town was alive, but not in the way the capital had been. Here, the atmosphere was grounded¡ªlacking the elaborate decadence of noble affairs, but rich in something else. Stability. The people moved with purpose, merchants closing their stalls for the night, travelers leading their mounts to the stables, blacksmiths hammering out the last of the day''s work.


    Riven and his group dismounted near the entrance, their horses lathered from the long ride. A stable hand¡ªa boy no older than fourteen with straw-blonde hair¡ªrushed over, eyeing their well-bred mounts with open curiosity.


    "Need ''em fed and rested?" he asked, already reaching for the reins of Nyx''s stallion.


    Riven tossed him a silver coin. "And brushed down properly."


    The boy''s eyes widened at the payment, and he nodded quickly, leading the horses toward the stables.


    Nyx stretched and yawned. "Never thought I''d say this, but I miss real beds."


    Krux cracked his neck. "I miss real food."


    Aria had already moved ahead, her sharp gaze sweeping over the bustling tavern at the town''s center. The Iron Hart, if the carved wooden sign was to be believed. The three-story structure stood firm among its smaller neighbors, its windows glowing with warm light, laughter and the clinking of tankards spilling out onto the cobblestone streets.


    She turned to Riven. "We should gather information before setting out again. We don''t know what lies ahead in the Wastes, and it wouldn''t hurt to hear what the locals think."


    Riven nodded. "Agreed. Let''s keep a low profile."


    They stepped inside.


    ¡ªx¡ª


    The Iron Hart was exactly what a frontier tavern should be¡ªloud, warm, and filled with the scent of spiced ale and roasting meat. A massive hearth crackled against the far wall, its flames casting flickering shadows over the worn wooden floors. Travelers and locals alike filled the space, some seated at long communal tables, others huddled in smaller booths, engaged in quiet conversation.


    The barkeep, a burly man with a thick beard and shrewd eyes, polished a tankard behind the counter, his gaze flicking briefly toward them as they entered. He didn''t react beyond that, merely noting their presence before returning to his work.


    Good. That meant they hadn''t drawn too much attention.


    Krux wasted no time in striding toward an empty table near the back. "I don''t care what it is, I just need food." He plopped into a seat with a heavy sigh.


    Riven took the seat across from him, his eyes scanning the room with calculated ease. No one seemed to pay them much mind, but he wasn''t naive enough to lower his guard. Aria, ever observant, leaned in slightly.


    "I''ll listen around," she murmured. "If this town has any recent news about the western roads, I''ll find it."


    Riven inclined his head. "Be subtle."


    She gave him a look.


    "When am I not?"


    Before he could respond, a barmaid approached, balancing a tray of empty mugs. She was young, her auburn hair braided over one shoulder, her green eyes sharp and assessing. "Evening, travelers," she greeted, her voice tinged with curiosity. "You look like you''ve had a long ride."


    "We have," Riven said smoothly. "Something warm to eat and drink would be appreciated."


    She nodded, jotting something down. "Stew''s fresh, and the cider''s strong. That work for you?"


    Krux grinned. "Works perfectly."


    The barmaid smirked. "I''ll be back with your orders."


    As she disappeared into the crowd, Riven leaned back slightly in his chair. The warmth of the tavern was a stark contrast to the cold night outside, but his thoughts remained sharp.


    The warmth of the Iron Hart settled around them, the steady hum of conversation blending with the occasional burst of laughter or the scrape of chairs against the wooden floor. Riven remained still, listening, observing. The townsfolk here were comfortable, but not careless. This was a place where people paid attention, where information moved quickly¡ªjust like he needed it to.


    It wasn''t long before the barmaid returned, balancing a tray laden with steaming bowls of thick, hearty stew, dark bread, and tankards of cider. The scent of roasted meat and spices filled the air as she set everything down.


    "There you go." She wiped her hands on her apron and glanced at them. "Need anything else?"


    Riven offered her a polite, measured smile. "Just the food, for now."


    The barmaid lingered a moment, curiosity in her eyes, but she didn''t press. With a nod, she moved on to another table.


    Krux wasted no time, immediately digging into his stew with unrestrained enthusiasm. "I don''t even care what''s in this," he muttered between bites, "it''s good." S§×ar?h the Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Nyx smirked, tearing off a piece of bread. "I''d make fun of you, but I''m too hungry."


    Riven ate slower, his mind still focused on the task at hand. As they worked through their meal, Aria slipped back into her seat, her expression unreadable.


    She waited for a moment before speaking, her voice low. "We have a problem."


    Riven set his spoon down. "Go on."


    Aria leaned in, her sharp eyes scanning the tavern before she continued. "The western path isn''t as empty as we thought. A group has taken up residence in the Wastes¡ªno one seems to know exactly who they are, but the word is they''re dangerous."


    Krux slowed his chewing. "Dangerous how?"


    "Bandits?" Nyx asked.


    Aria shook her head. "More than that. They''re organized. No one crosses into the Wastes without their permission anymore. Merchants trying to take the old roads either disappear or turn back with warnings burned into their wagons. People are calling them a gang, but it''s bigger than that."


    Riven frowned. "And no one''s dealt with them?"


    Aria gave him a pointed look. "It''s the Wastes. The Kingdom barely acknowledges it exists. No lords claim it, no army patrols it. There''s no one to deal with them."


    That was a problem.


    It meant whoever had moved in wasn''t just some passing group of criminals. They had a foothold, a base of operations. And that meant they had a reason for being there.


    Riven tapped his fingers lightly against the table. "Anything else?"


    Aria nodded. "Something¡­ interesting." She hesitated for a beat before continuing. "There''s a fighting ring not far from here. People from all over come to watch, but lately, one name keeps coming up." She glanced at Riven. "They call him The Demon."


    Nyx arched a brow. "Dramatic."


    Krux grinned. "Sounds like my kind of guy."


    Aria ignored him. "No one''s been able to beat him. Not once. He''s brutal¡ªfast, strong, and terrifyingly efficient. And here''s the part that caught my attention: he''s connected to the group in the Wastes."


    Riven''s gaze sharpened. "Connected how?"


    "No one knows exactly. Some say he''s their leader. Others say he''s their enforcer. But he''s not just some fighter¡ªthey respect him. Or fear him." Aria''s voice was quiet, thoughtful. "Either way, he''s important."


    The table fell silent.


    Riven processed the new information quickly. A group powerful enough to claim the Wastes. A fighter undefeated in the rings. And some connection between the two.


    Coincidence? No. Too much was lining up.


    Krux leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. "So what''s the plan? Are we avoiding them or getting involved?"


    Nyx smirked. "You know we''re getting involved."


    Riven exhaled slowly, tilting his head.


    "We need to see this Demon for ourselves," he said at last. His voice was steady, decisive. "If he''s part of the group in the Wastes, then he knows what''s happening there. If we''re going to move through their territory, we need to understand who we''re dealing with." His fingers curled slightly. "Or make them understand who we are."


    Nyx grinned. "Now you''re talking."


    Aria nodded. "The fights are held in a pit outside the town. Tomorrow night."


    Riven smirked. "Then tomorrow, we meet a Demon."


    ¡ªx¡ª


    The morning in Stonebrook, as they learned the town was called, was brisk and filled with movement. The scent of fresh bread and morning dew clung to the cool air as the town''s merchants began setting up their stalls. The marketplace, nestled in the heart of the town, bustled with traders selling everything from dried meats and herbs to enchanted trinkets of questionable authenticity.


    Riven and his group moved through the narrow streets at a casual pace, blending in with the other travelers. They used the chance to replenish their supplies properly before heading into unknown territory.


    Krux took the lead in acquiring provisions¡ªdried rations, fresh water, and extra medical supplies, though he insisted on slipping in a few bottles of whiskey for "emergency purposes."


    Nyx bartered with a weaponsmith, trading a few enchanted trinkets for extra daggers and throwing knives, while Aria secured new cloaks to replace their dust-ridden travel gear.


    Riven remained silent for the most part, taking in the way the town operated. Information moved quickly here, but not carelessly. People gossiped in careful whispers, exchanging news at a measured pace, careful not to speak too loudly lest the wrong ears overheard.


    A sign of a town that knew how to survive.


    By mid-afternoon, they had everything they needed.


    "All set?" Nyx asked, adjusting her new cloak.


    Riven gave a short nod. "Let''s find out what makes this ''Demon'' so special."


    ¡ªx¡ª


    By nightfall, the outskirts of Stonebrook had transformed.


    Torches lined a crude pathway leading deeper into the woods, their flames flickering against the darkened trees. The distant hum of cheering voices and the clash of steel grew louder as they approached, the unmistakable energy of fighting thick in the air.


    The pit itself was a sunken arena carved into the earth, ringed by jagged stone and makeshift wooden platforms where spectators loomed over the fights. Rough-built torches were staked into the ground, casting long shadows across the dirt floor.


    A crowd had gathered, merchants, mercenaries, and outlaws alike, all eager to see the night''s main event.


    At the center of the pit, two men fought savagely, their bodies already battered and bloodied. The larger of the two¡ªa thickly built warrior wielding twin axes¡ªlunged forward, his strike meant to end it.


    But his opponent was faster.


    With a swift, almost effortless movement, the smaller fighter sidestepped, catching the larger man''s wrist in an iron grip before twisting it at an unnatural angle.


    A sickening snap echoed through the pit.


    The ax-wielding fighter screamed, dropping his weapon as he crumpled to his knees.


    The match was over.


    A roar erupted from the crowd, a mix of cheers and groans, as wagers were either won or lost.


    A man¡ªclearly the announcer¡ªstepped forward, raising a hand to silence the crowd.


    "And once again, the undefeated champion remains standing!" he bellowed.


    He gestured toward the far end of the pit, where a large iron gate slowly began to rise.


    "And now, what you''ve all been waiting for¡ªthe final fight of the night!"


    The tension in the air shifted.


    The spectators pressed closer, whispering excitedly.


    The announcer grinned. "I give you¡­ The Demon!"


    Heavy boots struck the dirt and a figure emerged.


    At first, he was just a silhouette¡ªtall, broad-shouldered, powerful. Then, as he stepped into the torchlight, his features became clear.


    He was handsome, strikingly so, with sharp cheekbones, a strong jawline, and dark, shoulder-length hair. His skin was tanned, scarred in places, telling the story of countless battles. His build was thick with muscle, his posture exuding raw strength and control.


    But what stood out most were the two small, curved horns protruding from his forehead, barely peeking through his unruly dark hair.


    The crowd cheered wildly, some chanting his name, others calling out bets on whether he would win once again.


    But at Riven''s table¡ªsilence.


    His Generals were frozen.


    Nyx had stiffened, her usually sharp expression slack with shock.


    Aria''s fingers tightened around the edge of the table, her breathing controlled but undeniably shaken.


    And Krux¡ªKrux, who rarely showed anything but confidence or amusement¡ªwas gripping his tankard so hard it cracked.


    Riven''s gaze flicked between them.


    "You know him."


    It wasn''t a question.


    Krux exhaled sharply. "Know him?" His voice was hoarse, disbelieving. "That''s one of your Generals!"


    Riven''s eyes narrowed.


    "That''s stupid meat head!" Nyx seethed in fury. "I told him that his king awaits him, and he''s been wasting his time here?!"


    The announcer''s voice cut through the roaring crowd, his theatrics feeding the excitement.


    "And now, who dares to challenge The Demon?"


    The pit hummed with anticipation. The spectators pushed closer, waiting to see if anyone would be foolish¡ªor arrogant¡ªenough to step forward.


    At Riven''s table, his Generals were still locked in stunned disbelief.


    Nyx''s hands had curled into tight fists, her usually sharp smirk replaced with a look of sheer aggravation. "Unbelievable. We went through the Abyss to find this bastard."


    Krux muttered something under his breath, rubbing a hand down his face. "I thought he''d been trying his best to climb back to the human world." His voice was still thick with something between relief and irritation.


    Aria was quieter, her fingers tapping against the wooden table in slow, deliberate beats. "If he''s been here this whole time¡­" Her eyes flicked toward the arena. "Then he ignored the summons."


    Nyx''s expression darkened. "I''m gonna kill that bastard."


    Riven''s gaze remained locked on the so-called Demon. His General.


    He analyzed him carefully¡ªthe sheer strength in his stance, the way his muscles barely tensed as he stood waiting, like he was bored of the whole spectacle. But there was power there, undeniable and raw.


    It was clear why no one had beaten him yet.


    But Riven didn''t care about that. What he cared about was why.


    Why had his General remained here, fighting in some pointless pit, when the return of his King had already been whispered through the Abyss?


    The Demon was his.


    And he had forgotten that.


    Riven pushed back his chair. The legs scraped against the wooden floor, the small sound barely noticeable over the roaring crowd. But at his table, his Generals felt the shift.


    They turned to him immediately.


    Nyx''s grin was feral. "Oh, this is gonna be fun."


    Krux exhaled, shaking his head. "He''s not gonna see this coming."


    Aria''s sharp gaze flicked between Riven and the pit, already understanding what was about to happen. "Don''t kill him."


    Riven said nothing.


    Then, he stepped forward.


    The moment his boots hit the dirt, the announcer perked up, sensing a new surge of excitement.


    "Well, well, we have a challenger!"


    The crowd erupted into cheers, drunken shouts, and murmurs. But the Demon didn''t react at first. He simply turned his head, his sharp red eyes flicking toward Riven as if finally acknowledging his presence.


    Then, something amused flickered across his features.


    He studied Riven like he was some new prey. Like he had no idea who he was looking at.


    The announcer, grinning wide, lifted his arms. "A bold challenger! But will he survive?" He turned toward the Demon. "What say you, Champion?"


    The Demon rolled his shoulders, lazily stepping forward. "I say¡­ he better not bore me."


    The crowd cheered.


    Riven simply smiled.


    He stepped into the pit, the earth solid beneath his feet, the weight of inevitability pressing into the air around them.


    The moment the announcer signaled the fight, the Demon smirked and moved first.


    Fast.


    Unnaturally fast.


    He closed the distance in a breath, throwing a heavy, bone-crushing punch meant to send Riven sprawling.


    But it never landed.


    In a blur, Riven shifted to the side, graceful and unbothered, his movements precise. The Demon''s fist hit nothing but air.


    For the first time, the crowd stilled.


    The Demon''s red eyes narrowed.


    Riven smiled. "Too slow."


    Then, he struck.


    Faster than the crowd could track, faster than the Demon could react.


    A single, crushing blow to the gut.


    The impact sent a shockwave through the pit.


    The Demon staggered.


    His breath hitched, the force of the blow forcing him back a step. The crowd gasped¡ªno one had ever made the Demon stagger.


    Yet, Riven wasn''t done.


    The flames beneath his skin burned, eager to be unleashed. But he held them back, keeping them just below the surface, fueling his movements, strengthening his strikes without exposing his abyssal nature. Using his fire here¡ªrevealing what he truly was¡ªwould bring the kind of attention he didn''t need.


    Instead, he let his fists do the talking.


    Another hit¡ªthis time to the ribs. A sickening crack filled the air as Riven twisted on his heel, driving his fist into the Demon''s side. The man barely managed to bring up his guard, his arms tightening against the force of the attack.


    But it didn''t matter.


    Riven was faster. Stronger.


    The Demon barely regained his footing before Riven''s palm slammed into his chest, sending him skidding backward across the dirt.


    And still, Riven advanced. Unrelenting.


    "You forgot your king," Riven said coldly, his voice just loud enough for the Demon to hear over the stunned crowd.


    The Demon''s expression twisted into something caught between pain and realization.


    His red eyes¡ªwide now, filled with something almost human¡ªflickered with recognition.


    As if he was finally seeing who stood before him.


    Riven didn''t let him breathe.


    A sharp elbow to the jaw sent the Demon''s head snapping to the side, blood flying from his mouth as he barely caught himself. He staggered, spitting onto the dirt floor.


    He growled low, finally baring his teeth like a cornered animal.


    "You¡ª"


    Riven didn''t let him finish.


    His fist cracked against the Demon''s cheekbone, sending him reeling. The horns on his head gleamed under the firelight as he stumbled, the weight of Riven''s blows crushing down on him like a storm.


    Riven leaned in, his breath calm, controlled.


    "You forgot your king." Another blow.


    "You abandoned your duty." A second.


    "You let yourself rot in the dirt¡ª"


    CRACK.


    The Demon hit the ground and the entire pit went silent.The great, undefeated champion lay sprawled in the dirt, his chest heaving, his face bloodied, his pride shattered.


    Riven stood over him, his presence looming, suffocating, undeniable.


    His abyssal flames licked beneath his skin, a silent reminder of what he could do if he truly wanted to end this.


    But he didn''t need to.


    Because the Demon was already beaten.


    The crowd¡ªwho had roared with anticipation¡ªwere speechless. The announcer, stunned beyond words, stared at the impossible sight before him.


    Riven lowered himself slightly, his voice quiet but lethal.


    "You were supposed to come when called."


    The Demon''s fingers curled into fists against the dirt. His jaw clenched.


    Riven tilted his head, his abyssal flames flaring just slightly, enough that the Demon felt the searing heat ghosting over his skin.


    Red eyes met his.


    Riven''s next words were not a request.


    "Kneel."

 Chapter 67 - 67: Damon

    The Demon gritted his teeth, his body trembling as he fought against the crushing force bearing down on him¡ªnot just from Riven''s blows, but from something far worse.


    The air thickened, charged with an unseen power that pressed down like the weight of a collapsing sky. It coiled around him, suffocating, inescapable. Each breath felt like dragging air through stone, his limbs sluggish, his thoughts drowning in a slow, creeping haze.


    A sharp, primal dread curled through his spine.


    He willed his body to move, to rise, to resist¡ªbut it would not obey.


    The weight was too much. The presence was too vast.


    The crowd saw none of this.


    To them, the Demon was simply dazed from the fight, struggling to his feet. They did not feel what he did ¡ª They did not feel Him.


    Riven stood above him, his abyssal fire writhing beneath his skin, just barely contained. It flickered at the edges of his aura, unseen by mortal eyes but suffocating to those who could sense power¡ªtrue, unrelenting power.


    And then, Riven let it loose.


    The pit darkened.


    A pressure unlike anything this world had ever known crashed down upon the arena. The torches flickered violently, their once steady flames straining against something colder, something deeper, something vaster. The very ground beneath them trembled, as if the earth itself knew who stood upon it.


    The spectators¡ªloud and unruly just moments ago¡ªfroze. Their laughter died. Their drinks stilled in shaking hands. None of them understood why, but every instinct screamed the same thing.


    Run.


    They couldn''t see it. Couldn''t name it. Couldn''t grasp it with their fragile, human understanding.


    But they felt it.


    It was the feeling of standing at the edge of a cliff, the wind whispering treacherously against their backs. The sensation of stepping into the ocean and knowing¡ªwith certainty¡ªthat something waited in the depths, unseen, ancient, watching. It was the slow, dawning horror of being prey before a predator, of being lesser before something great.


    Of standing before a King.


    Riven''s true aura bled into existence, unfurling like a storm breaking across the sky. This wasn''t just power. It was authority. The weight of the Abyss itself. It surged outward, swallowing the pit, bearing down upon one man with the full force of an unyielding tide.


    And the Demon¡ªthe undefeated monster of the pits¡ªbuckled.


    His body betrayed him, instinct forcing him to submit. He gritted his teeth, hands clawing at the dirt, resisting, fighting it with everything he had. He refused to kneel, refused to surrender, refused to bow his head like the countless men who had fallen before him.


    But then, he made the mistake of looking up.


    And he saw Riven''s eyes.


    Not the cold calculation of a fighter. Not the fiery determination of a warrior.


    But something far, far worse.


    The Abyss stared back at him.


    Endless. Hollow. Eternal.


    His muscles burned, his bones groaned in protest, his instincts howled at him to stop. But he pushed anyway, planting his foot against the dirt, forcing his battered body upward.


    A last act of defiance. A final grasp at control.


    Riven had seen enough.


    He didn''t move with anger. He didn''t lash out with fury. His expression remained cold, unreadable, untouched by the spectacle of struggle before him. His aura did not waver.


    He simply moved.


    One step.


    Then another.


    And then¡ªa final blow.


    A single, brutal strike to the Demon''s temple.


    The impact was absolute.


    The Demon''s world shattered.


    The last thing he saw was Riven''s abyssal gaze¡ªtwo voids, endless and consuming, staring into the very depths of his soul.


    Then¡ªdarkness.


    His body crashed into the dirt, unmoving.


    The undefeated champion of the pits¡ªthe terror of countless battles, the man who had stood unchallenged¡ªhad fallen.


    And the crowd¡ªhundreds of voices that had once roared with life¡ªstood in horrified silence.


    Riven exhaled slowly, rolling his shoulders as if brushing off dust. His aura retracted, sealing itself once more beneath his skin, leaving only the unsettling aftershock of something that should not exist in this world.


    He turned, glancing toward his table.


    Nyx was grinning¡ªferal, delighted, eyes glinting like a predator who had just witnessed carnage.


    Krux let out a slow breath, shaking his head with a mix of amusement and exasperation. "So much for keeping a low profile," he muttered, his tone hovering somewhere between awe and resignation.


    Aria didn''t speak. She didn''t need to. Her gaze, sharp and unblinking, never left Riven.


    She had felt it. The others had felt it. Even suppressed, even hidden beneath the surface, Riven''s presence was undeniable.


    Riven exhaled, the tension in the air thick, suffocating. Then, with no more care than one would give to a discarded object, he turned his back on the unconscious Demon.


    "Get him," he said simply.


    Krux smirked, standing from his seat. "With pleasure."


    No one stopped them.


    No one dared to.


    No one moved as the Shadow King took back what was his. S~ea??h the N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    ¡ªx¡ª


    After slipping the announcer a generous sum¡ªenough to ensure his silence and a little extra to keep the crowd entertained with another round of drinks¡ªthe fight between Riven and The Demon faded into the background, as if it had never happened at all.


    With Krux and Nyx each taking a side, they hauled the Demon''s heavy form into the dense forest that bordered the small town, the thick canopy swallowing them in darkness as they moved deeper into the trees.


    Reaching a small clearing, they unceremoniously dropped the Demon''s body to the ground with a heavy thud. The impact stirred him, a low groan escaping his lips as he began to regain consciousness.


    Nyx wasted no time. She nudged him sharply with the tip of her boot, her expression twisting with renewed irritation. "Yeah, wake up, you piece of shit," she snapped, crossing her arms. "You''ve got some explaining to do."


    Damon groaned as he pushed himself upright, blinking blearily as he took in his surroundings. His vision settled on Nyx first, his dazed expression quickly morphing into delight. "Nyx¡­ is that you?!" His head snapped to the side, eyes going wide as he recognized the others. "Krux and Aria too! Ah, it''s so good to see you all again!" His grin was bright, completely at odds with the bruises forming on his face, like an overgrown child who had just found his lost friends.


    "Shut it, Damon," Krux grumbled, arms crossed over his chest, his usual easy smirk absent. "You''re gonna tell us why the hell you''re in this backwater town, wasting your time beating up nobodies." His irritation sharpened, his voice edged with anger. "Your king summoned you, you idiot."


    Damon¡ªwho until that moment had been positively beaming¡ªfroze. The happiness in his face dimmed as guilt settled into his features, his fists clenching at his sides. "Mal and I ascended to the human realm a little over a month ago," he muttered, not meeting their eyes. "I wanted to go to our king right away, but Mal insisted we had to do something first¡ªsomething that would make us worthy of standing before him again."


    Nyx sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Of course Mal did. That bastard always had to go above and beyond. What stupid plan did he come up with this time?"


    Damon hesitated. "We''ve been gathering the lost. The ones who scattered when the kingdom fell." He finally lifted his head, his face grim but determined. "We''re rebuilding, Nyx. We''ve gathered a strong following¡ªthose who still believe in our king. We''ve given them a purpose again ¡ª hope. But¡­ it took longer than we thought."


    Aria, who had been silently putting the pieces together, narrowed her eyes. "The group in the Wastes¡ªthe one that''s been controlling the roads, burning warnings into merchants'' wagons¡­ That''s you and Mal, isn''t it?"


    Damon nodded, his expression serious. "We''ve been building up supplies to keep everyone fed ¡ª the crowd is growing bigger by the day."


    Silence settled over them.


    Riven, who had kept his distance, allowing his generals to extract information first, finally stepped forward. His presence shifted the air¡ªheavy, commanding. Damon stiffened immediately, his instincts flaring even before he fully processed what was happening.


    "Who," Riven spoke, his voice deceptively calm, "asked you to do that?" He tilted his head slightly, his expression unreadable.


    Damon turned to look at him for the first time.


    And froze.


    Recognition dawned, quickly followed by sheer, unfiltered terror. His red eyes widened, his limbs locking up as a violent tremor ran through his entire body. He had faced countless warriors, monsters, and horrors. He had stood unchallenged in battle, his strength feared.


    None of it compared to the fear that seized him now.


    "M-My King!" Damon choked out, his voice raw as he dropped to his knees, bowing so low his forehead pressed against the earth. "Forgive this foolish general for not recognizing you!"


    Riven''s boots stopped just in front of him. Damon dared not look up.


    Then, without warning, something heavy pressed down on the back of his head.


    Riven''s boot.


    He applied just enough pressure to force Damon''s face further into the dirt, his tone still eerily calm. "I asked you a question."


    Damon''s fingers dug into the ground as pain flared through his skull. "Urk¡ª! I¡­ I followed Mal because I thought it would please you, my liege!" His voice was strained, but he forced the words out.


    "You ignored your king''s summons," Riven mused, as if considering the thought. Then, with a quiet, humorless chuckle, he leaned down, resting his arm lazily over the knee of the leg still pressing Damon into the dirt. "And you thought that would please me?"


    Damon''s breath hitched. "I-I only wished to prove our worth! To show you that we¡ª"


    "You assumed I needed proving." Riven''s voice was soft, but it cut like a blade. "I don''t need men who do as they please. I don''t need those who ignore my command. I certainly don''t need disobedient fools acting without my permission."


    He lifted his boot and turned away. "Be gone."


    Damon''s heart stopped.


    His blood ran cold.


    Panic clawed at his throat, ripping through his body in a way no physical blow ever had. "N-No! No¡ªplease, my king!" His voice cracked as he scrambled forward, clawing at the dirt, desperate. "Please, grant me forgiveness! If you would only see what we''ve built¡ªwhat we''ve done in the Wastes¡ªyou would be impressed! I swear it! Please, my king, forgive Mal and I just this once!"


    Riven did not respond.


    He did not slow.


    He did not acknowledge the pleading.


    Then¡ªthree consecutive thuds sounded behind him.


    Riven halted, turning slowly.


    Damon wasn''t the only one kneeling anymore.


    Nyx, Krux, and Aria had all dropped to the ground, their heads pressed low, their hands outstretched in unison.


    "Please, grant your forgiveness just this once."


    Their voices rang through the clearing.


    "Please, grant your forgiveness just this once."


    Again.


    Over and over.


    The chant did not waver.


    Riven''s expression darkened.


    He stepped closer, gaze sweeping over the bowed figures of his generals. "What is this?" His voice was low, unimpressed. "You think if you all grovel together, I won''t cast you all aside?"


    "We dare not assume anything, my liege," Krux answered immediately, his voice quick, cautious. "But Damon is not without use. He possesses Earth mana¡ªhis abilities are tied to nature itself. He can build, shape, and fortify structures with ease. Think of what he could do in rebuilding your kingdom."


    "Please, grant your forgiveness just this once," they echoed again.


    "He is also invaluable in battle," Nyx added, her voice steady despite the tension. "Once he regains his full strength, he can take a ridiculous amount of damage¡ªhe''s a shield, a frontline warrior. He may be an idiot, but his usefulness outweighs his stupidity."


    "Please, grant your forgiveness just this once."


    Riven inhaled deeply, exhaling through his nose. His gaze swept over them, and for a moment, he wondered if he had somehow acquired four loyal dogs instead of generals.


    Silence stretched.


    Then, finally, he sighed. "Take me to Mal," he ordered, voice flat. "Let me see what has been so important that it was worth ignoring my summons."


    Damon''s breath caught, his head snapping up. "Y-Yes! Right away, my liege!" He scrambled to his feet so fast he nearly tripped.


    The other three generals released slow, relieved exhales as they rose to stand.


    But Riven wasn''t done.


    His gaze flicked to them, sharp, warning. "I have told you before¡ªI do not give mercy. Do not test me again."


    The weight of his words settled over them.


    "Yes, my liege," they responded in unison.


    Riven ran a hand over his face before turning back to Damon, flicking his fingers in an impatient gesture.


    "Lead the way."

 Chapter 68 - 68: Mal

    Damon, still shaking from the ordeal, scrambled to his feet. His red eyes darted to the others, searching for reassurance, but all he found was silent expectation. He swallowed thickly before reaching into the leather pouch at his waist, fingers trembling slightly as he retrieved a rolled parchment. The moment he unfurled it, a faint glow of deep violet runes flickered across the aged surface, the arcane markings pulsing with restrained power.


    "A teleportation scroll," Aria murmured, eyes narrowing as she took in the complexity of the inscriptions. "This is high-tier work."


    Damon nodded quickly. "Mal created it. He''s¡­ well, he''s gotten good at inscription magic. Really good. We''ve needed something reliable to move our people without being detected."


    Riven''s eyes flickered with the faintest trace of curiosity. High-tier inscription magic wasn''t common. Creating a scroll like this required not only talent, but an incredible amount of mental strength.


    Damon hesitated, glancing between them before holding out the scroll. "It''ll take us straight to the encampment. It''s safe, I promise."


    Riven didn''t speak. He merely stepped forward and placed a hand over the scroll, his abyssal aura flaring just enough to test its integrity. The magic embedded in the parchment trembled, but it held firm. Satisfied, he withdrew his hand and gave a curt nod.


    "Activate it."


    Damon pressed his palm against the scroll, and immediately, the runes ignited with brilliant light. The magic surged outward, forming a swirling vortex of deep, shadowy blue. The air around them trembled, the edges of the clearing distorting as the spell took hold.


    Then, the world warped.


    ¡ªx¡ª


    They landed with an abrupt jolt.


    The air was thick with the scent of decay.


    The teleportation had been seamless, but the moment they arrived, the shift in atmosphere was suffocating. The sky above was heavy with rolling clouds, dark and swollen as if mourning the land beneath it. The once-proud capital of the Shadow Kingdom lay in ruins before them¡ªa graveyard of shattered stone, collapsed spires, and roads choked with creeping vines and ash.


    What had once been a city brimming with power and grandeur was now a wasteland of broken history.


    Yet, amidst the wreckage, life stirred.


    A small encampment had been erected within the heart of the ruins. Makeshift tents and stone structures formed a defensive perimeter, their arrangement strategic and efficient. Fires burned in controlled pits, illuminating the figures moving within. Warriors stood guard at the edges, their armor mismatched but their posture disciplined. Some were sharpening weapons, others tending to wounded, and beyond them, civilians¡ªchildren, elderly, bloodlines of those who had once belonged to the kingdom¡ªhuddled together in the meager shelter they had carved out for themselves.


    Riven''s gaze swept over them, his mind calculating.


    These were his people.


    The lost. The abandoned. The remnants of his fallen kingdom.


    The moment the guards noticed them, hands flew to weapons, eyes widening as they took in the unfamiliar figures. But before any action could be taken, a figure stepped forward from the center of the encampment.


    And Riven stilled.


    A young man, dressed in dark robes embroidered with ancient sigils, strode toward them. His silver eyes¡ªsharp, intelligent, unyielding¡ªlocked onto Riven''s with something akin to curiosity. His hair was long and almost white in colour. His features were delicate, ethereal, holding an unsettling beauty that seemed almost inhuman in the dim light.


    The young man stopped a few feet away, his gaze flickering over the group before settling on Damon. "You took longer than expected," he said, his voice smooth, quiet, yet carrying weight.


    Damon scratched the back of his head, shifting awkwardly. "Yeah, well¡­ ran into some complications."


    The young man''s gaze finally slid back to Riven. He studied him, unreadable, before exhaling softly. "So. You''re finally here."


    Aria, who had been silent, stepped forward. "Mal."


    Mal''s head snapped toward her, his expression shifting for the first time. Something raw flashed across his face¡ªa deep, buried emotion that flickered too fast to name. "Aria," he breathed, voice lower now, softer.


    Riven''s eyes narrowed slightly.


    Aria''s hand twitched at her side, fingers curling as she regarded him. "You''ve changed."


    Mal''s lips quirked, but there was no humor in it. "So have you."


    Riven, who had been taking everything in with quiet observation, exhaled slowly. "So¡­ you two know each other?"


    A tense silence.


    Then Mal turned to Riven and tilted his head slightly. "Of course we do," he said simply. "She''s my sister."


    Riven''s gaze sharpened, the weight of his stare pressing down on Mal like an unspoken command for explanation. He had not expected this. Aria¡ªhis cold, calculating assassin¡ªhad never once mentioned family, let alone a brother. Yet now, standing before him, was a man who not only carried the same silver-eyed intensity but possessed magic that reeked of something eerily familiar.


    A necromancer.


    Riven''s thoughts slowed, calculating. It was the first time in this life he had encountered another of his kind. And worse¡ªhe hadn''t seen it coming.


    Aria''s expression was unreadable, but the tension in her posture was unmistakable. She and Mal stood mere feet apart, yet the distance between them felt impossibly vast.


    "You should have told me," Riven said finally, his voice cool, but edged with something unreadable.


    Aria didn''t flinch. "It wasn''t relevant."


    Riven let the words hang in the air for a moment longer before shifting his attention back to Mal. "You ignored my summons."


    Mal met his gaze without flinching. "We were preparing for you."


    Riven exhaled through his nose, irritation creeping into his otherwise measured composure. "Is that what you call it?" His voice lowered, dark and commanding. "I summon my generals, and instead of coming, you disappear into the ruins of my fallen kingdom, rallying people under my name without my approval?"


    Mal held his ground, though Damon took a cautious step back.


    "We did what needed to be done," Mal answered evenly, though his fingers twitched slightly at his sides. "People who once lived here can sense a change in the air. Even if you didn''t announce it yourself, the people of the Shadow Kingdom can feel your presence once more¡ª I just wanted to give them some sort of hope and assurance that what they felt was real."


    Riven remained silent, his piercing blue eyes fixed on Mal with a look that sent a chill through the air. The weight of his presence alone was suffocating, pressing against the young necromancer like an unseen force.


    "Hope?" Riven''s voice was soft, yet razor-sharp, slicing through the heavy silence like a blade against stone. "Assurance?" He took a slow, measured step forward, and Mal, despite his best efforts, instinctively tensed. "Did you think I needed you to grant them hope in my name?"


    Mal held firm, though his fingers twitched at his sides, betraying the fraying edge of his composure. "No, my King," he admitted, his voice steady despite the weight pressing down on him. "But the people¡ªyour people¡ªneeded to hear it before it was too late."


    Riven exhaled, irritation curling at the edges of his control. "The people needed only one thing," he said, voice dropping into something colder, heavier. "Their King."


    Another step forward, and the air thickened, suffocating. The abyssal energy slumbering beneath his skin stirred, unfurling into the world around him. Shadows trembled at his feet, slithering toward him, bending, stretching unnaturally as if drawn to his presence.


    "I''ve fought tirelessly to return to my kingdom," Riven continued, his tone still composed, but dark with something unrelenting, something vast. "Nyx, Krux, and now Aria have been at my side since the moment they were summoned¡ªwithout question, without hesitation." S§×arch* The Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    He took another step, abyssal flames whispering up his arms, their dark tendrils flickering and coiling like hungry serpents.


    "But where," he said, his voice laced with quiet fury, "were you?"


    The words hit like a thunderclap.


    Mal''s breath hitched slightly. His shoulders were rigid, his body motionless, but for the first time, uncertainty flickered across his silver eyes.


    "Where were you," Riven pressed, stepping closer, his presence overwhelming, "when I needed my most loyal generals? Where were you when I actually needed your strength?"


    With every step, the weight of his presence grew heavier. The ground trembled beneath them, and the very air crackled with raw, untamed power. The survivors who had gathered began to whisper, murmurs of unease and awe rippling through them as the sheer force of Riven''s fury became palpable.


    Mal struggled to keep his breathing steady. A bead of sweat rolled down his temple, his body instinctively recoiling under the crushing force of his King''s presence. He forced himself to meet Riven''s gaze¡ªthose endless, abyssal blue eyes that swallowed the light.


    "I¡­" Mal''s voice faltered, caught in his throat as the abyss surged around him. His lungs felt too tight, as though the air itself had turned against him. "I¡­ have failed you."


    Riven stopped only inches away, towering over him, the flames at his arms flickering violently. Mal could feel the heat, feel the sheer pressure radiating from his King''s body. His mind screamed at him to lower his gaze, to fall back, to submit¡ªbut he held on, barely.


    Until Riven spoke again.


    "Kneel."


    The command wasn''t loud. It didn''t need to be.


    It echoed across the ruined wasteland, reaching into every hollow space of the kingdom, stretching out like a shadow with no end. A shudder rippled through the very air, and finally, the last fragile thread of resistance within Mal snapped.


    His knees hit the ground before he even realized he was falling.


    His body buckled under the sheer force pressing down on him, his arms trembling as his breath left him in a sharp exhale. The moment he collapsed, something deeper shifted.


    One by one, the gathered survivors, the scattered remnants of the Shadow Kingdom, felt the call of their King. The weight of his authority¡ªhis undeniable existence¡ªsettled into their bones.


    And they, too, fell to their knees.


    Wails filled the air, the sounds of desperate relief, of shattered hope reforging itself anew.


    "The King has returned!"


    "Long live the Shadow King!"


    "We''re finally saved!"


    Their voices rose into a crescendo, a frenzied devotion pouring from lips that had long since forgotten what it meant to hope.


    Riven stood amidst the chaos, his expression unreadable, his abyssal fire still flickering like a storm barely contained. His gaze swept over the kneeling masses¡ªhis people¡ªbefore settling back on Mal, who remained bowed at his feet.


    For a long, weighted moment, Riven simply stared at him.


    Then, finally, he spoke.


    "Do not fail me again."

 Chapter 69 - 69: Purifying the Land

    Mal''s breathing was steady, but the weight of Riven''s presence lingered like a brand against his skin. He kept his head bowed, feeling the heavy silence pressing in from all sides as the remnants of the kingdom chanted their devotion. The sound carried through the ruins, a mixture of desperation and worship, a people clinging to the promise of their king''s return.


    Riven let the moment stretch, allowing them all to feel the gravity of it. Then, his abyssal flames flickered and receded, the pressure in the air easing slightly. The murmurs of the gathered crowd softened, and Mal finally lifted his head, silver eyes unreadable.


    "Show me," Riven commanded. "If you and Damon have truly done anything worth keeping, then show me."


    Mal hesitated for only a second before nodding sharply. He rose, brushing off the dust from his dark robes, and motioned for them to follow.


    "This way," he said, his voice returning to its usual smooth control, though there was an unmistakable weight in it now. A lesson learned.


    Damon fell into step beside him, clearly relieved that his own punishment had passed¡ªfor now. Krux and Nyx trailed behind, exchanging glances, while Aria moved without a word, her gaze lingering on her brother.


    They walked through the ruins, the skeletal remains of the once-mighty Shadow Kingdom surrounding them. The air was thick with the scent of damp stone and decay, yet beneath it, there was something else. Life.


    It became clearer the deeper they went into the heart of the encampment. What had seemed like a gathering of survivors on the outskirts was only the beginning. Tents and hastily built structures gave way to reinforced stonework, salvaged from the ruins. Old tunnels had been cleared, leading to underground chambers where supplies were stored. The remnants of ancient towers had been turned into watchpoints, manned by trained sentries.


    Mal led them through narrow streets lined with makeshift dwellings. People parted as they passed, eyes wide, some whispering, others too overwhelmed to speak. They were warriors, mages, healers, and refugees¡ªthose who had refused to abandon the land even after its fall.


    "I did what I could in the time I had," Mal said quietly. "We arrived in the human realm with nothing but the clothes on our backs. It took time to find the remnants of our people, to secure what little land was still salvageable. This¡­ is all that remains."


    Riven''s expression remained impassive as he observed the encampment. His kingdom¡ªhis throne¡ªhad once commanded fear and respect, its reach extending far beyond these ruined walls. Now, it was a shattered fragment of what it had been, barely surviving on the fringes.


    Still, he could see the bones of something greater beneath the ruin.


    "How many?" Riven asked, eyes scanning the camp.


    Mal didn''t hesitate. "Roughly three thousand, but not all are warriors. Many are non-combatants¡ªcivilians, elders, children. Those who fled when the capital fell, those who were hunted but managed to survive. We have maybe five hundred fighters fit for battle, though only half are properly trained."


    "Numbers are weak," Krux muttered, crossing his arms. "And the ones that aren''t fighters¡­ How many of them are even strong enough to withstand a war?"


    Mal''s jaw tightened. "Not many. Which is why we''ve been focusing on securing food, shelter, and defenses rather than pointless battles." He glanced at Riven. "Our land is dead. The Solis Kingdom made sure of that when they salted the fields after the war. Nothing grows here. If we can''t fix that, it doesn''t matter how many people we have."


    The mention of the Solis Kingdom brought a sharp silence over the group.


    Salted earth.


    A cruel, deliberate tactic.


    It was a final insult¡ªa way to ensure that even if the Shadow Kingdom''s people returned, they would have nothing left.


    Riven''s fingers twitched. His abyssal fire surged at the edges of his control, the very thought of Solis daring to believe they had the right to destroy what was his igniting something dark in his core.


    "Fixing the land isn''t an option," Nyx muttered. "Once soil is poisoned, it''s dead. No amount of waiting will change that."


    Mal shook his head. "Not necessarily. There are ways to counteract the damage, but it would take time. We need either powerful earth mages or an alternative method to create sustainable agriculture." His gaze flickered toward Damon. "We''ve tried what little earth magic we have, but it''s not enough."


    Damon sighed. "I can shift the ground, clear debris, strengthen foundations. But reversing something like this?" He shook his head. "I ain''t strong enough for that. We need something else."


    Riven''s gaze turned toward the darkened landscape stretching beyond the encampment. A kingdom was more than just its people¡ªit needed land, resources, power. Without fertile land, rebuilding was meaningless.


    But he refused to let Solis dictate the fate of his kingdom.


    Riven''s thoughts stirred as he considered the poisoned land beneath his feet. He hadn''t relied on the system in some time, but now, as he faced the monumental task of restoring his kingdom, he knew it was a resource he couldn''t ignore.


    ''System,'' he commanded silently, ''is there a way to reverse the damage to the soil?''


    For a moment, there was no response. Then, the familiar, mechanical voice resonated in his mind.


    [[ Analysis required. Please provide a sample of the affected soil. ]]


    Riven exhaled through his nose, already moving. Without a word, he stepped past the boundaries of the encampment, his boots crunching against the brittle, lifeless earth. The others followed at a distance, sensing something unspoken unfolding.


    Stopping a few paces into the barren wasteland, Riven knelt. He scooped up a handful, letting the grains slip through his fingers before tightening his grip on what remained.


    [[ Scanning¡­ ]]


    A shift in the air.


    Riven felt it immediately¡ªa pulse of unseen energy gathering around his hand. The system''s magic surged, tendrils of deep, spectral mana weaving through his fingers, analyzing, dissecting. The ruined soil pulsed faintly in response, as if the land itself was reacting to the foreign presence.


    The air around Riven shimmered faintly as the system''s energy continued to pulse, weaving into the grains of dead earth in his palm. The others stood behind him, watching in silence, their expressions unreadable.


    Then, the system spoke.


    [[ Analysis complete. Identified contamination: High concentration of salt-based alchemical compounds, residual necrotic energy, and elemental disruption. Restoration possible via targeted purification process. ]]


    Riven''s grip tightened around the brittle soil. "Explain."


    [[ Two primary solutions detected: ]]


    [[ Option 1: Large-scale purification using Earth and Water elemental magic in tandem with high-tier alchemical neutralization. Estimated timeframe: Multiple years with available resources. ]]


    [[ Option 2: Forced regeneration via Abyssal Authority. Estimated timeframe: Immediate. Warning: Unstable results possible due to abyssal interference with natural order. ]]


    Riven''s fingers tightened around the brittle earth, his mind already weighing the two options. The first was safe but slow¡ªtoo slow. Years of waiting would only leave his people vulnerable, struggling for survival in a land that offered them nothing. The second was immediate but dangerous, carrying an unpredictable cost.


    He exhaled through his nose. There was no real choice.


    ''Expand on Option 2.''


    [[ Abyssal Authority can forcibly overwrite the corrupted state of the land, expelling foreign contaminants with Abyssal Flames and reestablishing the soil''s fertility. However, due to abyssal energy''s chaotic nature, the outcome is not guaranteed to mimic natural regeneration. There is a high probability of anomalous growth, unexpected mana fluctuations, or structural instability within the ecosystem. ]]


    Unexpected mana fluctuations.


    Riven''s gaze flicked to Mal, the only other necromancer he had ever encountered, before shifting toward Damon, the only true earth mage among them. They were both limited¡ªMal''s magic was tied to death, Damon''s to shaping the land but not reviving it. If Riven were to take this on, he would be doing it alone.


    He considered his next words carefully. "Damon."


    Damon straightened at the sound of his name, his golden eyes narrowing slightly. "Yeah?"


    "How deep does your earth magic go? Can you sense what''s under us?"


    Damon knelt, pressing his palm against the ground. A faint tremor passed through the soil beneath them, like an invisible pulse of awareness. His brow furrowed. "It''s bad. The salt poisoning is deep, not just the surface. If I had a decade, I might be able to fix it naturally, but¡­" He shook his head. "This land''s got no life left in it. It won''t recover on its own."


    Riven looked back down at the soil in his palm. ''If I use Abyssal Authority, what''s the worst possible outcome?''


    [[ Complete rejection of the land''s natural mana, leading to an unstable zone. Possible side effects: accelerated decay, mutated flora, or partial erosion of planar boundaries. ]]


    Riven''s jaw tensed slightly. ''And the best?''


    [[ Full restoration, albeit with unpredictable mana enhancements. ]]


    It was a gamble. One he was willing to take.


    He let the soil fall from his fingers and stood. "We begin now."


    Nyx shot him a look. "Now? Just like that?"


    Riven ignored her and took a step forward, slightly stretching his limbs as he let his abyssal flames stir beneath his skin. "Mal, stay at the perimeter of the test zone. If anything unexpected happens, contain it."


    Mal hesitated before nodding, moving a few paces back and beginning to trace runes into the dirt with practiced precision.


    "Damon," Riven continued, "reinforce the land, make sure it doesn''t collapse if the abyss destabilizes the structure."


    Damon grunted. "No pressure or anything." Still, he placed his hands against the ground once more, closing his eyes as he channeled his magic deep into the earth.


    Riven exhaled, closing his own eyes for a brief moment before reaching inward.


    The abyss answered.


    Riven felt it stir within him, a vast and endless hunger, coiling around his soul like a living entity. The moment he allowed it to surface, the air thickened with its presence. Shadows stretched unnaturally, slithering along the poisoned earth as if tasting it, seeking, searching. Sear?h the ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Then, the fire came.


    Abyssal flames erupted from Riven''s hands, black as the void, streaked with veins of deep blue and violet. They did not burn in the way normal fire did. They consumed. They devoured. They purged.


    Riven pressed his palm to the ground.


    The fire lunged.


    It sank into the earth like a living thing, spreading outward in a web of searing veins. Dark energy surged through the brittle soil, pulsing in slow, rhythmic waves as it carved its way deeper, stripping away the salt, the necrotic remnants, the alchemical corruption that had poisoned the land.


    The ground trembled violently.


    A deep, guttural crack echoed through the wasteland as the abyssal flames slithered outward, fusing with the very essence of the Shadow Kingdom''s soil. It was an unnatural process¡ªdestruction and rebirth entwined in a single, chaotic force.


    Riven grit his teeth. The toll was immediate.


    The abyss was not meant for creation.


    A sharp, searing ache pulsed through his bones, spreading like molten iron beneath his skin. His veins burned, his mana twisting violently as he force-fed his abyssal energy into something it was never meant to heal. His breath hitched, but he did not stop.


    The ground beneath them shuddered.


    The blackened veins of fire burrowed deeper, drinking the corruption from the land. The salt was obliterated, turned to nothing but fine mist that dissolved into the air. The necrotic remnants of Solis'' curse were devoured, stripped from the soil''s core. Where the flames touched, the land shifted, darkening, thickening, regaining an eerie vitality.


    Then, something changed.


    A pulse. A ripple of power that spread outward in a violent wave.


    The abyss did not simply heal the land¡ªit remade it.


    Grass sprouted in an instant, but not the pale golden fields of the past. The blades were darker, deeper, lined with faint streaks of midnight blue. Strange, ethereal flowers bloomed, their petals curling with veins of abyssal energy, pulsing faintly like beating hearts. The soil thickened, rich and fertile¡ªbut laced with something other, something born of the void.


    Riven''s vision blurred for a moment. The strain was immense, the weight of the abyss clawing at his very being. He felt the land shifting beneath him, not just in body but in spirit. He had changed it¡ªnot just purified it, but claimed it.


    And it had claimed him back.


    A violent shudder ran through him. The darkness surged at the edges of his vision, hunger gnawing at his core, demanding more.


    But Riven did not yield.


    With sheer force of will, he wrenched his power back, severing the final connection just as another wave of abyssal energy threatened to lash out.


    The land settled.


    The earth, once dead, was now alive.


    Riven exhaled sharply, his vision wavering as a sudden wave of dizziness threatened to pull him under. A sharp, searing pain lanced through his skull, his body protesting the sheer force of what he had just unleashed. His fingers curled into fists, his nails biting into his palms as he fought to steady himself.


    Before he could falter, hands were there¡ªsolid, grounding. Krux was at his side, a firm grip under his arm, steadying his balance. Nyx''s hand pressed against his back, her touch light but unwavering, a quiet reassurance. Neither spoke, but their presence alone was enough.


    The silence that followed was deafening.


    Then¡ª


    "Holy shit." Damon was the first to break it, his voice a mix of awe and unease. His golden eyes swept over the newly formed field, the strange, shimmering grass shifting slightly in an unseen wind. "What the hell is that?"


    Mal took a cautious step forward, silver eyes narrowing. He crouched, running his fingers through the new soil, feeling its mana, its presence. "¡­It''s not just purified," he murmured. "It''s been reforged."


    Riven let out a slow, measured breath, willing the exhaustion from his limbs. His vision still swam at the edges, the abyss clawing at the corners of his mind, but he forced himself to stay upright. This was not the time for weakness.


    "This is only the beginning," he said, voice steady despite the weight pressing down on him. His piercing blue eyes swept over the transformed land before flicking back to Mal. "Can it be used?"


    Mal hesitated, still running his fingers through the strange soil. "It''s fertile," he admitted, but his silver eyes flickered with something unreadable. "But it''s also¡­ changed. The mana here isn''t the same as before. Whatever grows in this soil will be infused with abyssal energy." He glanced at Riven. "It''s your power holding it together."


    Riven already knew that. He could feel it. The land wasn''t just renewed¡ªit was bound to him. He had reforged it in his own image, and in doing so, it had become something new. A fragment of the abyss, tethered to the material world.


    "It''ll grow crops," Mal continued, carefully choosing his words. "But we''ll need to test them before feeding them to the people."


    "We don''t have the luxury of hesitation," Riven replied coolly. "This is the first step. However imperfect, it''s enough to begin."


    Damon let out a low whistle, arms crossed as he surveyed the changed landscape. "Enough, yeah," he muttered. "But we''re talking about a single field, boss. It''s a start, but we need a whole damn kingdom''s worth of this."


    Riven didn''t respond immediately. He already knew that restoring the entire Shadow Kingdom would take time¡ªmore time than he had. The strain of purifying even this one small field had nearly brought him to his knees. To attempt the same process on a large scale would be reckless.


    He would need to find another way.


    "We begin here," Riven finally said, his tone brokering no argument. "We plant. We harvest. We learn how this land reacts to what we grow."


    Mal gave a curt nod. "I''ll oversee it."


    Riven''s gaze lingered on him for a moment before he turned to Damon. "Reinforce the area. Make sure the land holds."


    Damon grunted in acknowledgement and moved toward the edge of the field, already channeling his earth magic into the soil.


    "Nyx, Krux," Riven continued, shifting his focus to the two at his side. "We still have more land to reclaim. We''ll need to scout further, see what other remnants of the kingdom can be salvaged."


    Krux nodded, ever the soldier. "I''ll gather a unit."


    Nyx crossed her arms, her sharp gaze flickering toward Riven. "And you?"


    Riven exhaled, the faintest hint of strain creeping into his expression. "I''ll recover."


    "My liege, please follow me for a moment," Mal said softly.


    Riven regarded him for a moment before giving a slow nod, following Mal as he led him through the encampment. The night was quiet, the murmurs of the camp hushed in reverence as they passed. Eventually, they reached a slightly larger tent¡ªone that stood apart from the others in its subtle grandeur.


    Mal stepped aside, lifting the flap to allow Riven inside. "I''ve been preparing this for your arrival, my king," he murmured, his voice steady but tinged with something unspoken¡ªlingering hurt from earlier.


    Riven stepped in, eyes sweeping over the space.


    The tent was modest, but thoughtful. Thick beast hides lined the floor, providing insulation against the cold earth. A large bed, far more comfortable than any makeshift cot, sat at the center. Along the edges of the tent, sturdy shelves and bookcases held neatly arranged supplies¡ªvarious tomes, parchment, and most notably, an assortment of glass vials filled with glowing liquids.


    Mal moved toward the shelves, fingers trailing over the labeled bottles. "I''ve been brewing various potions for you, just in case," he said, bowing his head slightly. "Please use them as you see fit. There''s plenty for the others, so you don''t need to worry."


    Riven''s gaze flickered over the rows of potions. A quiet pang of guilt settled in his chest¡ªMal had done all of this while he had been absent, and yet, Riven had still scolded him. He exhaled, tension leaking from his shoulders.


    "Thank you," Riven said, his voice softer than before. Exhaustion was settling in fast, creeping up his spine like a dull weight. "I''ll use them well."


    But even as he spoke, his vision blurred at the edges. His balance faltered.


    Before he could stumble, Mal was at his side, steadying him with firm hands. "Careful," Mal murmured, his grip unwavering as he guided Riven toward the bed. The necromancer lowered him gently, his expression unreadable, but the concern in his silver eyes was clear.


    Without hesitation, Mal grabbed a handful of vials from the shelf and uncorked them. "These are health potions," he explained, pressing the first to Riven''s lips. Riven drank without argument, the bitter liquid burning its way down his throat. Heat spread through his veins as the magic took hold, a faint glow pulsing beneath his skin.


    [[ You have ingested a health potion. ]]


    [[ Healing in progress¡­ ]]


    Mal retrieved another vial, this one shimmering a deep blue. "And these are mana potions," he continued, offering it to Riven. Without pausing, Riven swallowed them one by one, the cold rush of mana flooding his system.


    [[ You have ingested a mana potion. ]]


    [[ Please assume a meditative state for optimal restoration. ]]


    The system''s words buzzed in the back of his mind, but Riven ignored them. His body was still aching, his very soul strained from channeling abyssal energy into the land. Sleep tugged at him, heavy and insistent.


    "I think I''ll rest for a while," he muttered.


    Mal inclined his head slightly. "Of course, my liege."


    Riven barely heard the words. His eyelids drooped, the silver gleam of Mal''s watchful gaze the last thing he saw before sleep claimed him.


    The system continued its quiet hum of notifications in the back of his mind, but he was already too far gone to pay them any attention.

 Chapter 70 - 70: It’s time to rebuild

    Riven stirred.


    A gentle warmth seeped into his body, spreading through his limbs like sunlight filtering through the canopy of a dense forest. It was a foreign sensation¡ªsoothing, almost comforting¡ªso unlike the raw, consuming power of the abyss that usually coursed through him.


    His eyelids fluttered open, his vision hazy at first before sharpening into focus. Above him, Damon stood, his face drawn in deep concentration. A soft green glow radiated from his hands, its energy sinking into Riven''s chest like threads of warmth weaving through his body.


    Riven''s brows furrowed, confusion pressing against the edges of his still-groggy mind. "¡­What?" His voice was rough, edged with fatigue.


    Damon''s golden eyes snapped to his, widening in surprise before his entire expression shifted¡ªfirst to shock, then to pure, unrestrained relief. His lips split into a wide grin, his magic flaring briefly as his excitement momentarily disrupted his focus.


    "Ah! You''re awake!"


    "What happened?" Riven asked, his voice steadier now as his mind fully emerged from the haze of sleep. He pushed himself upright, surprised to find his body no longer aching¡ªthe exhaustion that had weighed him down before had lifted almost entirely.


    Damon exhaled heavily, rubbing the back of his neck as he reached out to steady Riven. "You''ve been out for a full week," he said, his tone caught somewhere between exasperation and relief.


    Riven''s head snapped up, his sharp gaze locking onto Damon. "Seven days?" He repeated, disbelief threading through his voice. His mind churned, racing to process the lost time.


    Before he could dwell on it, the flap of the tent was thrown open. A blur of movement followed as his generals poured in, their expressions shifting from disbelief to overwhelming relief the moment their eyes landed on him.


    Aria was the first to reach him, her silver eyes glistening as she stood stiffly at his side, the only sign of emotion in the way her fingers twitched at her sides. Krux and Nyx weren''t far behind, both of them uncharacteristically silent. Even Mal, usually composed, looked shaken, his piercing gaze scanning Riven as if to reassure himself that their king was truly awake.


    The tension in the tent was thick, but for the first time in a long while, it wasn''t from fear or uncertainty. It was something else¡ªsomething heavier.


    Relief.


    "It seems purifying the land took more out of me than I thought," Riven sighed, rubbing his temples.


    Nyx scoffed, though there was something thick in her voice¡ªsomething almost like relief. "You did the impossible in a matter of moments. What did you expect?"


    "You did more than that!" Krux added, his grin wide and full of admiration. "You created some kind of god-touched land! It''s only natural you''d feel drained after something like that."


    Riven arched a brow. "God-touched?"


    The group exchanged knowing glances, their excitement barely contained.


    "You need to see it for yourself," Damon said, his golden eyes gleaming.


    Without another word, they led him out of the tent. The moment Riven stepped into the open air, he felt it¡ªsomething in the atmosphere had shifted. The encampment was different from the last time he had seen it. The people moved with renewed energy, their expressions lighter, their postures stronger. As Riven passed, they stepped aside, bowing their heads, their smiles warm and full of something he hadn''t seen in a long time.


    Hope.


    He didn''t stop, but the sight left a strange weight in his chest.


    They reached the field, and Riven froze.


    The land he had reforged was no longer just soil and potential. It had flourished into something surreal. Rows of crops stretched out before him¡ªwheat swaying under an invisible breeze, thick green vines bearing heavy vegetables, baskets already brimming with golden potatoes. Laughter rang through the air as young girls dug up massive roots, giggling as they passed them off to a man who struggled to keep up with the overflowing harvest.


    "What¡­" The words barely formed as he took in the sight. "How is this possible?"


    It had only been a week.


    And yet, the field was teeming with life. S§×arch* The N?velFire(.)net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Mal stepped forward, his silver eyes sharp with understanding. "We knew there would be¡­ anomalies due to the abyssal power," he began carefully. "But what''s happening here goes beyond what I predicted."


    He crouched, running his fingers through the darkened soil, feeling the energy beneath the surface. "There''s a temporal distortion woven into the land," he explained. "Time flows differently here."


    Riven''s brows furrowed. "Because of the abyss?"


    Mal nodded. "It''s the only explanation that makes sense. The soil isn''t just infused with your power¡ªit''s bound to it. And the Abyss¡­ it doesn''t follow normal rules. If time moves differently there, it makes sense that it would extend to whatever you''ve created here."


    "That''s¡­" Riven exhaled. "Unbelievable."


    "And yet, here it is." Krux chuckled.


    "This is already the third harvest this week," Aria added.


    Riven''s mind reeled. Three harvests? In a single week? This wasn''t just fertile land¡ªit was a miracle. If they could expand this, if they could replicate it across the kingdom¡­


    "But," he said, voice leveling, "it''s still not enough."


    Mal sighed, shaking his head. "No, it''s not. Especially with the number of new arrivals each day."


    Riven stared at the people tending the fields, their faces alight with something close to joy. For the first time since the fall of the kingdom, they weren''t just surviving.


    They were living.


    An idea began to take shape in his mind.


    "If crops grow at this rate," Riven murmured, rubbing his chin, "I wonder if medicinal plants would do the same."


    Mal''s head snapped toward him, something sparking in his silver eyes. "There''s no reason they wouldn''t."


    Riven nodded slowly. "If we can cultivate medicinal herbs alongside food, we wouldn''t just have a self-sustaining supply¡ªwe''d have something of value. A trade commodity."


    Nyx folded her arms. "Herbs like that would sell fast. There''s always demand for good alchemical ingredients."


    "Exactly." Riven''s mind was already racing ahead. "But we can''t just start trading yet. The Shadow Kingdom has no formal merchant routes, no supply chains. And beyond that¡­" He gestured to the ruins around them. "No one''s going to want to come here when it looks like this."


    The group followed his gaze, taking in the crumbling remnants of the once-mighty kingdom. The wasteland stretched far and wide, jagged ruins like broken bones protruding from the earth.


    Nyx hummed in agreement. "You''re right. Until we can produce excess crops for trade, we need to focus on stabilizing our food supply."


    Damon cracked his knuckles, a smirk playing on his lips. "So we''re cleaning the place up, huh? About time."


    Riven crossed his arms, already formulating the next steps. "We rebuild." His voice was firm, carrying the weight of command. "Krux, Damon¡ªI want you to gather anyone with construction skills. Bricklayers, carpenters, blacksmiths. Start drawing up plans for permanent housing."


    Krux nodded sharply. "Understood."


    Damon grinned. "You''ve got something in mind, don''t you?"


    Riven allowed a smirk to flicker across his lips. "Come to me for the blueprints. I have a specific vision for the kingdom''s reconstruction."


    Damon clapped his hands together. "Now that I gotta see."


    "Nyx," Riven continued, "rally the warriors. We''ll need them to transport materials and provide security."


    Nyx''s golden eyes gleamed with approval. "Consider it done."


    "Aria, I need you to take over scouting operations. With our focus on rebuilding, we can''t afford to be blind to outside threats. Report anything unusual."


    She gave a small nod. "I''ll handle it."


    Riven turned to Mal last. "You and I are mapping out potential trade routes. Villages, towns, independent merchants¡ªwhoever will listen."


    Mal smirked. "Looking to open negotiations already?"


    Riven''s gaze swept over the growing field, the laughing children, the murmuring workers. His people.


    "We''re not just rebuilding," Riven said, his voice steady, carrying the weight of certainty. "We''re going to rise beyond what we once were."


    ¡ªx¡ª


    The large command tent was dimly lit, the flickering glow of lanterns casting elongated shadows against the canvas walls. A long wooden table sat at the center, its surface covered with maps, parchment, and hastily drawn plans. Riven stood at its head, hands braced against the edges, his piercing blue eyes scanning the rough sketches before him.


    Krux and Damon sat across from him, their expressions a mix of curiosity and skepticism.


    "So," Damon drawled, leaning back with his arms crossed, "what exactly are we looking at here, boss? Because this sure as hell doesn''t look like any building I''ve ever seen."


    Krux grunted in agreement. "These¡­ structures. They''re taller than anything we''ve ever built before. And there are multiple dwellings inside each? You''re saying this one building houses dozens of people?"


    Riven smirked slightly, amused by their confusion. Of course they wouldn''t understand¡ªnot yet. This world hadn''t conceived the idea of apartment buildings, hadn''t thought beyond traditional homes or castles. But he had seen it before.


    Finally his memories from his previous life were beginning to have some use to him.


    "This is the future," he said simply, tapping a finger against the largest blueprint on the table.


    The design was intricate, layered with careful detailing¡ªlines and measurements meticulously marked. The buildings stretched upward, with stacked living quarters, reinforced foundations, and communal spaces.


    "This," Riven continued, "is how we house our people efficiently. Right now, we''re struggling with space, aren''t we? Thousands of refugees crammed into tents and makeshift shelters, with no proper infrastructure. Instead of sprawling out across the land, wasting valuable land, we build up."


    Damon whistled low. "Tall buildings, multiple families inside, shared spaces¡­ You''re saying this is better than separate homes?"


    "For the numbers we''re working with? Absolutely," Riven said without hesitation. He gestured to another sketch, detailing the internal structure. "This is a five-story residential building. Each floor contains six to eight living quarters, sturdy enough to withstand harsh weather and enemy attacks. Instead of every family fending for themselves in scattered houses, we centralize resources. Shared wells, communal kitchens, storage, even internal heating powered by mana."


    Krux frowned slightly, eyes narrowing as he studied the blueprints. "You''re suggesting we stack homes. Wouldn''t that make them more vulnerable?"


    "No," Riven countered. "It makes them stronger. If we reinforce the foundation and use the right materials, these buildings will be sturdier than anything Solis has. Instead of a collection of scattered homes, we create a fortified city. A kingdom of stone and steel, efficient and defensible."


    Krux exhaled through his nose, considering. "And how long would it take to build something like this?"


    "That''s why I called you two here," Riven said. "I need every stonemason, carpenter, and craftsman at our disposal. Damon, with your earth magic, you can shape the foundations faster than traditional methods. Krux, you''ll oversee and organise."


    Damon scratched his head, looking between the blueprints and Riven. "I''ll be real with you, boss. I''ve never built something like this before. Hell, I don''t think anyone in this continent has."


    "You''ll learn," Riven said simply.


    Damon let out a rough chuckle. "That easy, huh?"


    Riven smirked. "Nothing worth doing is ever easy." He tapped the blueprint again, his expression unwavering. "But this isn''t just about building houses. It''s about creating a city that lasts."


    Damon exhaled, rubbing his jaw as he leaned in closer to the sketches. "Alright, say we do this. Say we stack these homes and make them as sturdy as you claim. What about the logistics? Materials? Labor? I can reinforce the stone, shape the foundations, but this is going to take a hell of a lot of manpower."


    Krux nodded. "And coordination. If we''re moving this many resources, we''ll need supply lines, proper storage, a system to distribute materials efficiently."


    Riven had expected this. He''d anticipated their doubts, their concerns. But he also knew the strength of his people¡ªthe sheer will they carried.


    "We start small," Riven said, pulling out a second sheet of parchment. This one depicted a simpler structure¡ªonly three stories, a prototype of sorts. "This will be the first. A test. We build this, work out the flaws, adjust accordingly. Once we have the method perfected, we scale up."


    Krux traced a finger over the lines, nodding slowly. "A test run."


    Riven inclined his head. "Exactly. The first building will house key personnel¡ªskilled workers, craftsmen, healers. People essential to the rebuilding effort."


    "And once we know it works?" Damon asked.


    "Then we expand," Riven said, his tone carrying a certainty that left no room for doubt. "We lay the foundation for a city unlike anything this world has seen."


    Damon let out a low whistle, shaking his head. "You don''t think small, boss."


    "No," Riven agreed, "I don''t."


    Krux exhaled, still staring at the design as if trying to see past the ink and into the reality Riven envisioned. "If we do this, we''ll need more than just manpower. We''ll need better tools, better techniques. We''ll need to innovate."


    Riven nodded. "That''s where Mal comes in. With his knowledge of alchemy and runic enhancements, we can reinforce our materials, make the construction process faster. And once we establish trade routes, we can bring in outside resources."


    Damon glanced at Riven, something unreadable flickering in his eyes. "You''re planning long-term."


    "Yes," Riven said simply. "This isn''t just about survival anymore. We''re not just rebuilding¡ªwe''re reclaiming our future."


    The words hung in the air for a moment, the weight of them settling over the table like an unspoken promise.


    Krux finally nodded, his expression resolved. "Then let''s begin."


    Damon grinned, cracking his knuckles. "Damn right."


    Riven allowed himself a rare moment of satisfaction. This was only the beginning¡ªbut it was a beginning that would change everything.

 Chapter 71 - 71: Abyssal Cultivation

    The morning air was crisp, laced with the scent of freshly tilled earth and the distant crackle of cooking fires. The Shadow Kingdom''s encampment, once burdened by desperation, now pulsed with new life. Warriors honed their blades with purpose, children laughed as they played¡ªno longer weighed down by hunger¡ªand groups of builders clustered together, murmuring about the grand vision their king had laid before them.


    Riven stood at the edge of the newly cultivated field, arms crossed, silently taking it all in. It had been little more than a week since he reforged the land, and already the transformation was undeniable. Rows of darkened soil, rich with abyssal energy, stretched before him, teeming with crops that shouldn''t have flourished so soon.


    Yet, despite the abundance, his thoughts were elsewhere.


    Mal''s approach was soundless, his black robes whispering against the dirt as he stopped beside Riven. "The maps are ready," he announced, extending a rolled parchment. "I''ve marked every known village, town, and potential trade hub within reach."


    Riven accepted it, unrolling the map and scanning the routes with a keen gaze. The Shadow Kingdom remained isolated, its lands still scarred from ruin, but beyond its crumbling borders, civilization thrived. Towns that had once sworn fealty to him now operated independently, their allegiances swayed by time and the influence of rival kingdoms¡ªparticularly Solis.


    That would change.


    "The closest town is Eldrin''s Crossing," Mal continued, his tone measured. "It''s a mid-sized trade post, neutral in allegiance. They have no ties to any kingdom, which means their merchants are open to the highest bidder."


    "Or the most persuasive threat," Krux muttered as he stepped up on Riven''s other side.


    Riven''s lips curled slightly. "We won''t need to force their hand. Not yet." He turned to Mal. "You said the herbs would grow as quickly as the crops?"


    Mal nodded, his silver eyes gleaming. "If the temporal distortion in the soil remains stable, then yes. The growth rate will be exponentially faster than anywhere else."


    "Then that''s our opening." Riven rolled the map back up and set his gaze on the field ahead. "Before we reclaim the kingdom, before we expand, we secure a trade route. We produce goods no one else can. And we make them need us."


    Nyx smirked. "Turning the world''s greed into our leverage. I like it."


    Damon let out a low whistle, arms crossed. "If we control the supply of something rare, the merchants will come to us¡ªwhether they trust the Shadow Kingdom or not."


    "They''ll come," Riven said, his voice a low promise. "And once they do, we decide who prospers¡­ and who doesn''t."


    The weight of his words settled over them like a shifting tide. This was more than rebuilding. It was the beginning of something greater. Power. Influence. Control.


    Mal exhaled, nodding once. "So, how do we start?"


    "For now, we split the field." Riven''s sharp eyes swept over the abyss-forged farmland. "Half remains for food. We can''t risk shortages. The other half will be dedicated to medicinal herbs. Once we have a supply ready, we approach the merchants."


    "A solid plan," Mal agreed. "I''ve compiled a list of the most valuable herbs on the market¡ªsome require specific climates, but if the Abyss Field bends the rules of nature, it may not matter."


    "We''ll have to test it," Riven said. "See what takes root."


    Mal reached for a pouch at his waist, unclasping it and handing it over. "These are the rarest seeds we''ve managed to acquire. Some were salvaged from old alchemical stores, others brought in nearby towns."


    Riven loosened the drawstring, peering inside. Small, dark seeds nestled in his palm, unassuming yet brimming with untapped potential. These weren''t just plants¡ªthey were the foundation of their futures.


    Mal gestured to the pouch in Riven''s hand, his silver eyes gleaming with something close to excitement. "Each of these seeds has the potential to be invaluable," he began. "If the Abyss Field''s properties hold, we might be able to cultivate something that not even the great alchemists of Solis can match."


    He reached into the pouch, plucking out a small, deep violet seed. "This is Nightshade Marrow¡ªan herb known for its powerful sedative and numbing effects. Used in potions for pain relief, but in high doses? It can render someone unconscious for hours." He turned it over between his fingers. "It usually requires deep caves and absolute darkness to grow, but I have a feeling that won''t be an issue here."


    Riven nodded, committing the information to memory. Mal pulled another seed, this one pale and almost translucent, as if carved from glass.


    "This is Etherbloom, one of the rarest ingredients in high-tier mana potions. The plant absorbs ambient mana from its surroundings and refines it into a concentrated liquid within its petals." Mal exhaled, shaking his head. "Most alchemists pay ridiculous sums for even a single blossom."


    He selected a third¡ªa dark red, almost black seed, veined with golden lines.


    "Bloodroot," he said grimly. "This one''s¡­ volatile. It''s used in both healing elixirs and deadly poisons. The sap has regenerative properties, but if mishandled, it can also kill within seconds." Mal flicked his gaze up. "A double-edged sword, but one worth cultivating."


    The next seed was unlike the others¡ªshimmering with an eerie, almost abyssal glow. Riven immediately felt something shift in the air as Mal held it up.


    "This is Void Thistle." Mal''s voice dropped slightly, as if even speaking its name carried weight. "It''s incredibly rare¡ªsaid to only grow in the deepest ruins where mana has stagnated for centuries. It''s an amplifier. Any potion mixed with Void Thistle has its effects enhanced tenfold¡­ at a cost." He glanced at Riven, his expression unreadable. "Too much of it can cause mana instability, sometimes even corruption."


    Riven hummed. Dangerous, but useful. S§×ar?h the n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Finally, Mal withdrew a small, unremarkable brown seed. But as soon as Riven looked at it, something about it felt off¡ªas if it didn''t quite belong in this world.


    "This last one," Mal murmured, "is Ashen Sage. A legend among alchemists. Said to purify any poison, neutralize curses, even extend life. The problem?" He turned the seed in his palm. "It''s never been successfully cultivated. It only grows in lands that have ''embraced death and rebirth''."


    Riven studied the seed. His land had been ruined, then reforged by the Abyss. If anywhere could grow Ashen Sage, it was here.


    He closed the pouch and turned toward the field, his mind already set. "We plant them all."


    Mal inclined his head. "Let''s see what the Abyss decides to bless."


    The field was alive with movement as farmers and volunteers prepared the land. Sections had already been divided, half for food, half for the experimental herbs. Riven walked among them, his presence alone enough to keep the work moving at a steady pace.


    One by one, the seeds were placed into the soil, careful hands covering them with dark earth, infused with abyssal energy.


    Riven knelt, pressing his palm against the ground. The moment his skin met the soil, something shifted.


    A surge of mana pulsed beneath his fingertips, crawling up his arm like a living force.


    Then¡ª


    [[ NEW SYSTEM FUNCTION UNLOCKED: ABYSSAL CULTIVATION ]]


    [[ You have gained the ability to oversee and influence the growth of abyss-touched flora. ]]


    [[ Current Functions: ]]


    ¡ú Plant Status: Allows you to check the health, growth rate, and properties of any plant within the Abyss Field.


    ¡ú Abyssal Expansion: Siphon mana and use abyssal energy to expand the farmland. Warning: Requires Third Circle Power to activate.


    Riven''s breath hitched.


    This¡­ was new.


    His mind raced as he processed the implications. Not only could he monitor the plants'' conditions, but he could expand the field itself¡ªif he had enough power.


    "The Abyss really does bend the rules," he muttered under his breath.


    "What?" Mal looked over, noticing the strange expression on Riven''s face.


    Riven exhaled slowly, flexing his fingers against the soil. "The land¡­ it responds to me."


    Mal frowned slightly. "What do you mean?"


    Instead of answering, Riven willed the system''s new function into action. Instantly, a translucent screen appeared in his vision, detailing the status of each seed they had just planted.


    [ NIGHTSHADE MARROW: Germination in progress. Estimated full growth: 24 hours. ]


    [ ETHERBLOOM: Absorbing ambient mana. Estimated full growth: 48 hours. ]


    [ BLOODROOT: Unstable reaction detected. Potential mutation: High. ]


    [ VOID THISTLE: Abyssal energy detected. Mutation in progress. ]


    [ ASHEN SAGE: Growth conditions met. Potential unknown. ]


    Riven''s fingers twitched. The Void Thistle and Bloodroot were already reacting to the Abyss, mutating into something new. And Ashen Sage¡­


    It was actually growing.


    A sharp thrill shot through him. This was beyond anything he had anticipated.


    "What is it?" Mal pressed.


    He rose to his feet, brushing his hands against his coat as if the soil itself had given him the answer he needed. "It''s going to work," he said simply, his voice carrying the quiet confidence of a ruler who knew his will would shape reality.


    Mal narrowed his eyes slightly. "You sound certain."


    Riven met his gaze, unreadable. "I am."


    For a moment, Mal studied him as if weighing whether to press further. But whatever he saw in Riven''s expression was enough to make him exhale and nod. "Then we wait."


    Riven turned his gaze toward the horizon, where the ruins of his once-mighty kingdom stood in the distance. The weight of expectation settled on his shoulders, but it did not drag him down. It only sharpened his resolve.


    He moved through the field, observing the way the farmers worked with careful precision. They had once been mere survivors, clinging to existence in a broken land. Now, they were builders of something greater. The change was subtle, but undeniable.


    Krux approached from the side, arms crossed. "If these herbs grow as fast as you say, we''ll have something worth trading within days." He gave Riven a measuring look. "And you really think the merchants won''t question how we''re doing this?"


    "They will," Riven admitted, his expression unreadable. "But greed will silence doubt faster than any blade. If they see profit, they won''t care about the source."


    Krux huffed, half-impressed, half-skeptical. "And if they do?"


    "Then we make them need us more than they fear us." Riven''s voice was cool, absolute.


    Damon strolled up, glancing between them. "So what''s next? We just sit around and wait for the miracle plants to sprout?"


    "Hardly," Riven said. "While the crops grow, we prepare for the next step. That means securing the roads leading here, gathering intelligence on the nearby trade routes, and ensuring that when we''re ready to negotiate, we do it on our terms."


    Nyx had been standing silently nearby, watching with an amused expression. "And here I thought you were just going to use brute force to reclaim the kingdom."


    Riven smirked. "Brute force has its place. But power isn''t just about war, Nyx. It''s about control. Influence. The ability to dictate how the world moves without ever needing to lift a blade."


    Mal exhaled, shaking his head. "You always seem to be thinking three steps ahead."


    "And yet, it''s still not enough," Riven murmured. "There''s much more to be done."


    The group stood in quiet contemplation for a moment, watching as the last of the seeds were planted. The land hummed with a quiet, unnatural energy¡ªsomething on the verge of awakening.


    It was only a matter of time.

 Chapter 72 - 72: The King’s Bath

    The sun had barely begun its ascent when the first changes in the abyss-touched field became apparent.


    Riven stood at the edge, arms crossed, watching as the air above the soil shimmered faintly. The crops, infused with abyssal energy, pulsed with an unnatural vibrancy. Already, tiny sprouts had begun to push through the earth, some of them dark-veined, others radiating a faint glow.


    "They shouldn''t be growing this fast," Mal murmured, his silver eyes scanning the field with open fascination. "Even with the temporal distortion, this is¡­ accelerated."


    Riven didn''t respond immediately. He could feel it¡ªthe subtle pull of the land, the way it reacted to his presence. The Abyss had not only claimed this soil, but it had also begun molding it to his will.


    "They''re growing," he finally said. "That''s all that matters."


    Damon let out a low whistle as he crouched down near the edge of the field. "That''s one way to put it. This is beyond anything I''ve seen before." He tapped one of the sprouts gently. "You think they''ll be safe to use?"


    Mal shrugged. "The properties may have changed, but until we test them, we won''t know how. We''ll need an alchemist."


    "Which we don''t have," Nyx pointed out dryly.


    "We will soon," Riven said simply.


    The others shared a glance. He was always like this¡ªmaking decisions with unwavering certainty, as if the world itself would bend to his will. And, more often than not, it did.


    Aria stepped forward, her silver hair catching the morning light. She knelt beside one of the Void Thistle sprouts, running delicate fingers along its stem. "It''s already absorbing abyssal energy," she noted, voice quiet but assured. "If this continues, it may not even resemble normal Void Thistle by the time it''s fully grown."


    Riven exhaled. "Good."


    Mal arched a brow. "You want them to mutate?"


    "If the world wanted normal crops, they''d look elsewhere," Riven said, his abyssal-blue eyes gleaming. "But something unique? Something they can only get here? That''s how we make ourselves indispensable."


    Mal let out a low chuckle. "You''re playing a dangerous game."


    "I always do." He chuckled. He turned from the field, his gaze sweeping over the encampment. The makeshift tents and temporary structures were beginning to shift into something more permanent. The first prototype of the apartment complex¡ªhis vision¡ªwas already taking shape in the heart of the settlement.


    Workers hauled bricks, reinforced foundations, and began raising the skeletal framework of what would become the first true housing in the reborn kingdom. Unlike the sprawling homes of the past, this building would rise upward, a fortress of efficiency. It was new, foreign, but already it commanded attention.


    Damon came to Riven''s side, his red eyes flicking between the half-built structure and Riven. "I''ll admit, when you pulled out those blueprints, I thought you were full of shit. But now?" He shook his head, smirking. "This is actually happening."


    Riven arched a brow. "You doubted me?"


    "Of course!" Damon shot back, grinning. "Makes it more entertaining when you prove me wrong."


    Krux, who stood nearby overseeing the construction efforts, crossed his arms, his golden eyes sharp with focus. "The foundation is holding strong, and the stone reinforcement is working better than expected. It''s sturdy." He gave Riven an impressed look.


    Nyx stepped forward then, her sharp obsidian eyes gleaming with interest. "And what of the roads? The builders are already starting to carve out a proper path leading to Eldrin''s Crossing." She tilted her head. "That wasn''t part of the original plan this early, was it?"


    Riven glanced toward the stretch of dirt now being flattened and reinforced. The workers, under Krux''s and Damon''s orders, had begun clearing the way for a proper road¡ªone that would connect them to the outside world.


    "We need a trade route," Riven said simply. "A direct line between us and civilization. The merchants will come, but they''ll come faster if we make it easy for them."


    Mal folded his arms. "Risky. If we make ourselves too visible too soon, the wrong people might notice."


    "They''ll notice either way," Riven countered. "Better to be prepared for when they do."


    Silence followed his words, the weight of them settling over the group. They all knew what he meant. The Solis Kingdom. Rival warlords. Opportunists seeking to take what they had rebuilt. The Shadow Kingdom was no longer just a forgotten ruin.


    Krux exhaled through his nose, nodding. "Then we''ll make sure it''s a road fit for a kingdom, not just another dirt path."


    Damon grinned, cracking his knuckles. "This means more work, huh?"


    "We''re all gonna be working hard for the foreseeable future." Riven said with chuckle and made his way back towards his tent.


    Riven entered his tent, letting the fabric flap fall behind him, blocking out the steady hum of construction and murmuring voices outside. The encampment was shifting, evolving, but for the Shadow Kingdom to truly rise, he needed more than strategy, more than innovation.


    He needed power.


    The Third Circle.


    His fingers twitched at his sides as he rolled his shoulders. He had been avoiding this step, not out of fear¡ªhe had none¡ªbut because everything else had demanded his attention. But now, with his kingdom on the cusp of change, there was no excuse.


    No guarantee of safety.


    No way of knowing what was coming.


    Only the certainty that when it did, he would not be caught unprepared.


    Riven reached for the mana vials, fingers curling around the glass as he lifted one to the dim light of the lanterns. The liquid inside shimmered, a deep blue, thick with concentrated energy.


    He sat crossed legged on the floor, closing his eyes and beginning to absorb mana.


    [[ Absorbing Mana: (+40%) ]]


    [[ 81%¡­ ]]


    [[ 82%¡­ ]]


    He took the first mana potions, uncorked the bottle and downed it in one swift motion.


    Heat surged through his veins.


    [[ You''ve ingested a Mana Potion! ]]


    [[ Mana gained +3% ]]


    [[ 85%¡­ ]]


    His mana heart pulsed violently in response to the potion, the energy flooding his system in rapid waves. His breathing hitched slightly, but he didn''t falter. S§×ar?h the N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    He grabbed another vial.


    [[ You''ve ingested a Mana Potion! ]]


    [[ Mana gained +3% ]]


    [[ 88%¡­ ]]


    And another.


    [[ You''ve ingested a Mana Potion! ]]


    [[ Mana gained +3% ]]


    [[91%¡­ ]]


    He knocked back the last two potions, his body being flooded with an uncomfortable heat each time. Sweat beaded at his brow as he continued to guide the mana through his veins and into the confines of his mana heart.


    The mana heart thundered rapidly in his chest, the two circles orbiting it spinning wildly as it adjusted to the surge of mana.


    [[ You''ve ingested a Mana Potion! ]]


    [[ Mana gained +3% ]]


    [[ 97%¡­ ]]


    Riven exhaled sharply, letting the empty glass slip from his grip. His robes clung uncomfortably to his skin, damp with sweat, while his blood-red hair curled at the edges, sticking to his face. He had pushed himself to the brink, coming just shy of breaking into the Third Circle. But exhaustion weighed heavy in his limbs, and he knew better than to force the advancement now¡ªnot when he had no idea what kind of trial awaited him on the other side.


    Pulling himself up, he stepped toward the tent entrance, pushing aside the flap. The encampment outside was still alive with movement despite the setting sun. Workers labored tirelessly on the rising apartment structure, their silhouettes outlined against the torchlight. Cooking fires crackled in the distance, pots simmering with the rich scent of stew.


    Nearby, a small group of children laughed as they kicked around a bundle of cloth tied together into a makeshift ball.


    Riven made his way over. "Hey."


    The children froze mid-play, their wide eyes darting up at him.


    "I need to ask you something." He gestured for them to come closer.


    They hesitated, glancing at each other nervously before shuffling forward, their tiny feet barely making a sound in the dirt.


    "H-Hello, my king," one of the boys stammered.


    Beside him, a girl nudged him sharply with her elbow. "You have to bow! Bow!" she hissed.


    Immediately, the children scrambled into clumsy bows, some nearly falling over in the process.


    Riven waved them off. "Forget the bowing, it''s fine." He crossed his arms. "I just need to know where the bathing chambers are. Can you show me?"


    Their tension melted instantly. Realizing they weren''t about to be scolded¡ªor worse, punished¡ªtheir expressions brightened.


    "Oh! Yeah! We know where it is!" A boy grinned.


    "It''s this way!"


    "Come on, mister King!"


    Before he could react, tiny hands grabbed at the edges of his robes, tugging him forward. With surprising strength, the children half-dragged him through the encampment, chattering nonstop about everything and anything.


    People glanced up as they passed, amused smiles and quiet laughter following in their wake.


    A rare, soft smirk pulled at Riven''s lips. It reminded him of the past. A life before the world he was in now. Back in the bakery, when children would barge in, rambling nonsense, distracting him¡ªjust for a moment¡ªfrom a life that had felt so small.


    "Here it is, mister King!" The girl, clearly the ringleader, came to a stop before a large tent. Wisps of steam curled from beneath the entrance flap.


    "Thanks," Riven smiled and held out his hand, drawing a few silver coins from his inventory. "Here''s payment for your hard work."


    The moment the coins landed in their palms, the children squealed with excitement, clutching their rewards like treasures.


    "Thanks, mister King!" They called as they darted off, eager to tell their families.


    Riven chuckled as he turned toward the bath tent¡ªonly to hear a familiar voice from behind him.


    "The terrifying Shadow King being nice to children? Should I be worried?"


    He sighed and glanced over his shoulder. Nyx stood there, arms folded, a teasing grin playing at her lips.


    "Do you really think I''m so evil that I''d be cruel to kids?" Riven arched a brow.


    Nyx tilted her head, pretending to consider. "Yes," she deadpanned.


    Riven resisted the urge to kick her.


    Instead, he turned back toward the tent, stepping inside. The air was thick with heat, steam swirling lazily through the dimly lit space. Rows of wooden tubs lined the walls, separated by a hastily constructed partition to divide the genders. A lone guard stood watch near the entrance, ensuring order.


    An elderly woman moved between the tubs, her wrinkled hands occasionally dipping into the water. A faint crimson magic circle flickered across her palm, and within seconds, the water beneath her touch bubbled with warmth.


    "You''re a mage," Riven noted.


    The old woman looked up sharply. Her eyes widened in recognition before she dropped into a deep bow. "My king!"


    Before she could lower herself further, Riven caught her by the arm with a sigh. "Enough with the bowing."


    She hesitated, then straightened, lowering her head respectfully. "Thank you." A faint smile tugged at her lips, though she seemed almost embarrassed. "It''s a stretch to call me a mage, but I know a few weak spells that are useful."


    "Useful is still useful," Riven said. "A warm bath is a luxury in times like these."


    She chuckled softly. "Then I suppose I have my purpose."


    Riven hummed and moved toward one of the empty tubs, the warmth already beckoning him. The scent of herbs mixed with the steam¡ªlavender and something sharper, meant to soothe aching muscles.


    He peeled off his sweat-drenched robes, sinking into the heated water with a satisfied exhale.


    Tomorrow, he would continue pushing forward.


    Tonight, he allowed himself a moment to breathe.

 Chapter 73 - 73: A Final Goodbye

    The next morning arrived with the sharp scent of damp earth and the distant hum of construction echoing across the encampment. The first beams of sunlight stretched over the horizon, casting long shadows over the growing settlement.


    Riven emerged from his tent, his robes loose over his shoulders, his blood-red hair still slightly damp from the bath the night before. His body felt rested, but the tension remained¡ªa constant thrumming just beneath his skin. He was too close now.


    One more push.


    He needed to reach the Third Circle.


    His eyes swept over the encampment, where workers were already hauling supplies to the unfinished apartment. The skeletal framework of the towering structure loomed over the settlement, a sign that the Shadow Kingdom was no longer a graveyard, but something rising anew.


    Further ahead, the road project continued. The dirt path leading toward Eldrin''s Crossing was slowly being shaped into something more permanent, lined with stone reinforcements to prevent erosion. The workers moved with a quiet determination, their actions fueled by more than just orders¡ªthey had a future to build.


    But for now, Riven had his own goal.


    He turned toward Mal''s tent.


    The Shadow General had taken up residence in the farthest section of the encampment, away from the noise. His tent was unassuming, but the air around it hummed faintly with lingering magic. Riven pushed aside the entrance flap without hesitation.


    Inside, Mal was hunched over a table littered with parchment, ink bottles, and vials filled with various substances. His silver eyes flicked up immediately, surprised.


    "My king, what can I do for you?" Mal asked as he rose to his feet.


    "I need another mana potion," Riven said. "If you have any to spare." He had no intention of wasting time traveling to a nearby town when he was this close to breaking through.


    Mal studied Riven for a long moment, his silver eyes sharp with understanding. He didn''t need to ask why¡ªhe could see it in the way Riven carried himself, the barely restrained energy simmering beneath his skin.


    Wordlessly, Mal reached down and pulled open a wooden chest at his side, rummaging through carefully arranged bottles before plucking out a small glass vial filled with a deep, swirling blue liquid.


    "This is the last of my high-grade stock," Mal said, rolling the vial between his fingers before handing it over. "It''s more potent than the ones you''ve been using, but that also means the mana rush will hit harder."


    Riven took the vial, weighing it in his palm. The liquid inside pulsed faintly, a concentrated force of raw energy.


    "That''s exactly what I need," he said simply.


    Mal smirked slightly. "You''re pushing yourself hard for this breakthrough. You sure you''re ready?"


    "I don''t have the luxury of waiting," Riven replied.


    "Then allow me to oversee your breakthrough," Mal said, already moving toward the tent entrance and pulling the flap aside. "Everyone else is occupied, and the medicinal plants are still in their growth phase. I have time."


    Riven considered for a brief moment before nodding. "Very well."


    Together, they made their way back to his tent. Riven settled onto the bed, crossing his legs, the mana potion cool in his grip. He exhaled slowly, steadying himself before uncorking the vial and downing it in one smooth motion.


    The moment the liquid hit his stomach, the surge was instantaneous.


    [[ You''ve ingested a Mana Potion! ]]


    [[ Mana gained +10% ]]


    [[ Mana Heart Expansion Ready! ]]


    [[ Upgrade will take 15 Hours ]]


    [[ Would you like to proceed? ]]


    [[ Yes/No ]]


    Mal''s voice reached him through the haze. "Good luck, my king."


    Riven took a final breath before selecting [[ Yes ]].


    The world around him dissolved into darkness.


    ¡ªx¡ª


    Golden light pooled behind Riven''s closed eyelids, and he blinked against it. When his vision cleared, he found himself staring up at an elaborate ceiling of polished obsidian, its dark surface glimmering faintly with veins of silver that pulsed like slow-moving starlight. It stretched high above him, the sheer grandeur of it impossible to ignore.


    As he pushed himself upright, his boots met cool stone, and he took in his surroundings. The chamber was vast¡ªelegant yet imposing. The walls, like the ceiling, were crafted from polished obsidian, but they gleamed with intricate silver inlays, swirling patterns that seemed almost alive under the warm golden glow of floating lanterns. Towering moonstone pillars lined the room, their smooth, pale surfaces reflecting the light with an ethereal sheen. The contrast between dark and light, shadow and brilliance, was seamless, woven together in a way that made the space feel both regal and ancient.


    The walls themselves were lined with open balconies, carved from the same moonstone as the pillars, their edges adorned with delicate filigree. The fabric of the silk drapes billowed softly, caught in the steady currents of wind that carried the scent of something rich and intoxicating¡ªlike rain on hot stone, with the faintest hint of night-blooming flowers.


    A strange urge pulled him to one of the balconies and his steps slowed as he reached the edge. The moment his eyes landed on the city stretched before him, his breath caught.


    It was incredible.


    Unlike the clustered stonework of Solis or the crude defenses of lesser kingdoms he had seen in his past life, this city sprawled in perfect harmony¡ªboth elegant and fortified. Streets wove together with precision, lined with dark marble buildings veined with silver, their rooftops arched in graceful curves. Spires of black quartz pierced the sky, adorned with intricate carvings and shimmering sigils, a testament to a civilization that had been far beyond what any other kingdom had achieved.


    Bridges, sculpted from the same black quartz, arched over glimmering canals that cut through the city like veins, reflecting the glow of floating lanterns. The market squares stretched wide, bustling with shadowy figures, their stalls overflowing with silks, rare gemstones, and mana-infused artifacts pulsing with latent power. The streets hummed with life¡ªa kingdom thriving, powerful, untouchable. sea??h th§× N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Even without understanding how, Riven knew.


    This was what the Shadow Kingdom had looked like.


    "It''s beautiful, isn''t it?"


    A deep voice cut through the silence behind him and Riven stilled.


    "It is," he admitted, exhaling slowly. Then his gaze hardened. "A shame you let it fall over something as naive as love."


    The words landed sharp, deliberate. He didn''t care if they stung.


    Velmorian chuckled, stepping forward to lean against the railing beside him. "Yes," he murmured. "A shame indeed." The humor in his voice faded as his violet eyes swept over the city¡ªhis city.


    Riven studied him. No battle this time? No trials?


    "No harsh lessons today, Velmorian?" He raised a brow.


    The former king sighed. His silver hair stirred in the warm wind, his tired gaze never leaving the kingdom below.


    "Not this time," Velmorian said quietly. "I''ve sensed you''ve reached the Shadow Kingdom." His fingers clenched against the stone. "I''ve seen your memories. What''s left of it¡­ the ruins, the waste, the bones of my people." His voice dipped lower. "My city¡­ is gone."


    A shadow passed over his face, but then¡ªa spark of something else.


    "But I have also seen what you''ve done," Velmorian continued. "You''ve begun to rebuild. Bigger. Stronger. You tore yourself apart to heal even a fraction of the land¡ªso that my people, your people, could eat." His gaze shifted, meeting Riven''s fully for the first time. "You''ve worked hard."


    Riven said nothing, but he didn''t need to. The weight of Velmorian''s words settled between them.


    "You call me a fool for believing in love," Velmorian sighed. "And perhaps I was. But when you''ve lived for centuries, when all you''ve known is loneliness and regret, you start to hope. To think¡ªmaybe, just once, it could be different."


    "You should have learned," Riven cut in, his voice colder. "People don''t change. Betrayal comes again and again. Instead of clinging to some foolish hope, you should have relied on those who were actually there for you¡ªyour generals, your family."


    Velmorian flinched. The words hit, each one carving into old wounds. But instead of anger, his expression softened with something closer to understanding.


    "This is why I chose you."


    His hand reached out, grasping Riven''s wrist. His grip was firm, but his touch was fleeting¡ªlike something fading.


    "When what little of my soul remained saw you in the Abyss, I knew immediately," Velmorian murmured. "You were the one who would inherit my kingdom. I saw your pain, your own betrayal. But more than that¡ªI saw what it did to you. How it reforged you. Hardened you. Your soul is the strongest and most bloodthirsty I''ve ever seen."


    He let out a dry chuckle. "Everything I wasn''t. Everything I should have been as the Shadow King."


    Riven''s eyes narrowed slightly as Velmorian continued.


    "That''s why I gave my system and my bloodline to you. Why I placed you in the Drakar family''s youngest son. The original Riven''s mother was a descendant of the Shadow Kingdom¡ªher blood carried my lineage. Your bodies were nearly identical. It was¡­ fate, in a way."


    Riven inhaled deeply, understanding settling over him at last.


    Velmorian watched him, his expression unreadable. "So," he exhaled. "I can rest now." His voice was quiet, but final. "I can leave knowing that the Shadow Kingdom is in your hands."


    Silence stretched between them.


    Riven looked over the city once more¡ªthe legacy that had been lost, the power that had been wasted. He exhaled sharply.


    "You failed your people," he said at last. "You let them burn for something as fragile as love. I detest you for that."


    Velmorian bowed his head. "I know."


    But then¡ª


    "¡­Thank you."


    Velmorian''s eyes snapped up, wide with surprise.


    Riven''s expression remained unreadable, but his voice was steady. "It''s still a fact that you pulled me from the Abyss and gave me another chance at life after my first ended so pitifully." He exhaled, looking back over the city. "So¡­ thank you."


    Velmorian blinked, stunned. Then, slowly¡ªhis features softened. For the first time, true relief flickered across his face, as if something deep inside him had finally unburdened.


    "I''ll leave it to you, then."


    The former Shadow King dropped to his knees, bowing low.


    And as the world around them began to crumble, dissolving into shadow and light¡ª


    His final words echoed through the void.


    "Long live the Shadow King."


    And then¡ª


    Everything fell apart.


    ¡ªx¡ª


    [[ Congratulations! ]]


    [[ Mana Heart Upgrade Successful! ]]


    [[ Mana Heart: Abyss Mana Heart (+3 Circles) ]]


    Riven''s body jerked as reality snapped back into focus. A sharp crack echoed in his chest, reverberating through his core. Looking inward, he saw it¡ªa third circle, faint at first, sluggish in its orbit around his mana heart. But then, with a surge, it quickened. Faster. Stronger.


    The air in his tent trembled. Mana stirred, as if called to him, bending to his will. A low wind picked up from nowhere, swirling around him.


    Above his chest, a vortex formed¡ªa spiraling pull of energy greedy and insatiable. The third circle pulsed, drinking in every trace of mana in the air.


    "My god¡­" Mal breathed.


    Then¡ªa rush of movement.


    His generals burst into the tent, weapons drawn, their bodies tense with the instinct to fight whatever force had just rattled their senses.


    "What the hell is going on?" Krux demanded, his golden eyes narrowing at the sight before him.


    Nyx''s stare was sharp with disbelief. "Did he just break through? Already?"


    Riven barely heard them. His body trembled as his mana heart continued to devour everything in its reach, pulling hungrily, recklessly. It wasn''t enough.


    "There''s not much mana in the Wastes right now," Aria observed, her voice steady but urgent. She moved swiftly to Riven''s side, kneeling behind him. "We need to supply him with more."


    Without hesitation, the others sheathed their weapons and stepped forward.


    One by one, they placed their hands on his back.


    Warmth exploded through him. Raw mana¡ªpoured into his body from their own reserves. A surge of energy so intense it nearly blinded him.


    Riven''s head snapped back, his spine arching as power flooded through him, igniting every nerve, every fiber of his being. His mana heart thundered, the third circle stabilizing, spinning at a speed that nearly sent his body into shock.


    The shadows in the tent flickered, bending toward him as if pulled by something unseen.


    And then¡ªsilence.


    The vortex collapsed. The mana stilled. The world settled.


    Riven slumped forward, catching himself on his hands. His heart still pounded.


    The generals withdrew their hands, their faces paler, their breathing heavier¡ªbut they knelt before him, heads bowed.


    "Congratulations on your breakthrough, my liege."


    Riven inhaled deeply, steadying himself. He lifted his hands, flexing his fingers. Abyssal fire curled around them, purer and stronger than before. His mana reserves overflowed.


    "Thank you," he said simply, motioning for them to stand.


    "Nyx, come take a walk with me."


    Nyx''s face, though ashen from the energy she had given, showed no surprise. She already knew.


    They walked in silence along the perimeter of the encampment. The morning air was crisp, carrying the scent of earth and burning wood. The sounds of construction echoed faintly from a distance.


    "You know about the system Velmorian left for me," Riven said at last. His tone was level, but his gaze was piercing. "You''ve overridden it before. Annoyingly, I might add."


    Nyx let out a small chuckle. "Annoyingly?"


    "Yes."


    She didn''t deny it. Instead, she exhaled softly. "When I returned to the Abyss, he appeared before me¡ªjust for a moment. He told me he had found his successor, that he needed my help to guide you." Her voice was distant, eyes lost in memory. "At first, I thought he had finally lost it. That there was no way he had found someone capable of bringing the Shadow Kingdom back from ruin."


    She turned to him then, smirking slightly. "Especially not some stubborn, reckless kid like you."


    Riven rolled his eyes.


    Nyx chuckled. "But then I saw you. I saw you fighting in the Abyss, battling against forces that should have consumed you. I saw how you bent the shadows to your will, how you refused to break. And I knew¡ª" she stopped walking and faced him fully. "That I would follow you. That my loyalty belonged to you."


    Her voice was firm. Absolute.


    "From that moment," she said, "I never saw you as anything other than my Shadow King."


    A beat of silence passed between them. Then¡ª


    Riven placed a hand on her shoulder. Nyx stiffened slightly, startled by the friendly gesture.


    "He''s gone," Riven said quietly.


    Her body tensed.


    "But you already know that, don''t you?"


    Nyx inhaled sharply. "I felt it¡­ when you broke through." Her voice wavered just slightly.


    Riven nodded. "His last ties to this world are gone."


    She closed her eyes for a moment. "I know."


    "Are you sad?"


    Nyx exhaled, then¡ªwithout hesitation¡ªreached up and squeezed his hand. "No. Not anymore."


    Riven studied her for a moment before giving a small nod. He squeezed her shoulder lightly before stepping away.


    Nyx watched him go, expression unreadable. Then, slowly, she tilted her head toward the sky.


    And with a quiet breath, she whispered her final goodbye to her former king.

 Chapter 74 - 74: Medicinal Plants

    The morning air was crisp, tinged with the scent of damp earth and lingering embers from the cookfires. The sky stretched clear and pale, streaked with gold as the first light of dawn cast long shadows over the encampment.


    Riven stood at the edge of the Abyssal-forged farmlands, his hands resting loosely at his sides. The land before him¡ªonce barren, cracked, and starved of life¡ªnow pulsed with something otherworldly.


    Rows of medicinal plants thrived in the abyss-touched soil, their dark leaves glistening faintly under the rising sun. Some of the crops bore subtle mutations, the results of the unnatural energy coursing through them¡ªVoid Thistle shimmered with an eerie glow, Bloodroot''s veins pulsed darker than normal, and Etherbloom swayed gently even without a breeze. The Ashen Sage, however, was the most striking¡ªa single stalk stood among the rest, its silver petals edged in black, as if kissed by the Abyss itself.


    It had worked. They had grown.


    Mal knelt nearby, carefully inspecting one of the stalks of Nightshade Marrow. He plucked a single leaf, rolling it between his fingers before holding it up to the light. "The mana saturation in these plants is¡­ extreme," he mused, his silver eyes flicking toward Riven. "If their properties have shifted even slightly, we might be dealing with something completely new."


    "We''ll find out soon enough." Riven crouched beside him, his abyss-blue gaze sweeping across the field. "Are they ready for harvest?"


    Mal nodded. "Most of them, yes. But we''ll need to run tests before we start trading them." He paused, glancing toward the Ashen Sage. "That one, though¡­ we should be careful with it."


    Riven followed his gaze to the lone stalk, something ancient stirring in his gut. "We''ll harvest it last."


    Mal hummed in agreement before turning to the gathered workers. "Alright. Be careful with the cutting. If these herbs are anything like their original counterparts, even the wrong touch can be dangerous."


    The workers nodded, moving carefully through the fields, blades slicing through stalks with precision. Bundles of herbs were placed into woven baskets, handled as delicately as treasure.


    Riven watched in silence, satisfaction curling in his chest. This was progress. The first step toward turning the Shadow Kingdom into something more than just a forgotten wasteland.


    But he wasn''t finished yet.


    Now that he had reached the Third Circle, he could expand.


    He exhaled slowly, closing his eyes as he reached inward, feeling the steady pulse of his newly strengthened mana heart. Power coiled beneath his skin, sharper, richer, more ravenous than before.


    He raised a hand.


    [[ System Function Unlocked: Abyssal Expansion ]]


    [[ Absorb surrounding mana and use abyssal energy to extend the farmland. ]]


    A deep hum resonated through the ground.


    The abyss-touched soil trembled.


    The shadows of the field twisted, stretching outward as if reaching for something unseen. The dry, dead land at the borders of the field shifted¡ªthe cracked ground darkened, as if drinking in the Abyss itself. Slowly, inch by inch, the farmland expanded.


    The air grew heavier. The mana thickened.


    Whispers of shadow curled along Riven''s fingers, his veins burning with power as he pushed the Abyss further into the land.


    The workers froze, their eyes widening as the field grew before them.


    Mal let out a low exhale. "So that''s your new ability."


    "It is," Riven muttered, his breath coming slower than before. His fingers trembled slightly as he flexed them, the lingering strain of expansion weighing down his limbs.


    The farmland had grown¡ªbut only a few feet.


    The toll it took was sharper than expected. The Abyss had responded, but the cost of forcing the land to change was greater than he anticipated. His mana reserves had dipped, a slow ache forming from the strain.


    Krux, who had been overseeing the harvest, frowned as he took in Riven''s stance. "You look like hell."


    Riven exhaled, shaking his head. "It''s slower than I thought," he admitted. "I can do it¡ªbut not all at once."


    Aria crouched near the newly expanded soil, running her fingers through it. "It''s something," she murmured. "Even if you can only do it little by little, the land is still changing. That in itself is a miracle."


    Mal studied Riven carefully before nodding. "Pushing too hard will only make it worse," he said. "For now, we work with what we have." He turned his attention back to the herbs. "How long until we can test these?"


    Mal rubbed his chin, considering. "We should know by tonight. I''ll set up a lab and analyze their properties." His silver eyes gleamed with something sharp. "If they''re even half as potent as they look, the merchants will crawl to us."


    Riven exhaled, steadying himself. The expansion had drained him, but it was progress¡ªslow, painful, but real.


    Riven rolled his neck, willing the fatigue away as he turned from the farmland. The expansion had taken its toll, but there was no time to rest.


    Progress didn''t wait.


    His gaze swept toward the heart of the encampment, where the skeletal framework of the apartment complex loomed. The first true structure of the new Shadow Kingdom. A home, not just for warriors and soldiers, but for the people who would live under his rule.


    "Let''s see how the construction is coming along," he said, already moving.


    Krux fell into step beside him, rolling his shoulders. "You sure you don''t need to sit down before you drop?"


    "I''ll drop when I''m dead."


    Krux huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head. S§×ar?h the novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    As they neared the site, the sound of chisels striking stone and wooden beams being hoisted into place filled the air. Workers moved with purpose, hauling bricks and reinforcing the foundation.


    Damon, overseeing the laborers, caught sight of them and smirked. "Look who''s finally taking an interest."


    Riven arched a brow. "I''ve been interested since the start."


    "You sure? You''ve been busy playing with dirt and shadows."


    Riven ignored him, instead taking in the progress. The lower level of the building was nearly complete, its reinforced stone walls standing solid. The second level was being framed, wooden supports in place where future rooms would be built. Unlike sprawling estates or clustered hovels, this building rose upward¡ªefficient, compact, and strong.


    "You''re moving fast," Riven noted.


    "Hard to slack off when the king himself keeps looming over our shoulders," Damon said, crossing his arms. "Krux has been running them into the ground, too."


    Krux shrugged, unapologetic. "They''ll thank me when they''re not sleeping under torn tents in the middle of winter."


    Riven stepped forward, running a hand along the stonework. Sturdy. Good quality.


    "This will hold," he said.


    Damon snorted. "You say that like we''d let it fall apart."


    Riven turned to him. "And the layout? Will it function as planned?"


    "Yeah, yeah. First floor''s mostly communal¡ªkitchen, storage, gathering hall. Second floor will be private quarters. We''re leaving space for future expansion. Once we get more resources, we''ll build up."


    "Good," Riven nodded. "With autumn nearly fully upon us, securing proper housing is the top priority."


    Krux studied him. "You''re really committed to this, aren''t you?"


    Riven met his gaze. "If we want to be taken seriously, we need more than just warriors and farmland. We need a foundation¡ªa kingdom people will want to belong to."


    Silence hung between them for a moment before Damon gave a rare, approving nod. "Then we''d better keep building."


    Riven let them return to their work. The apartment was coming together, but it wasn''t the only thing that needed attention.


    He turned toward the outer edges of the settlement, where the new road was being carved into the barren land.


    The road project was ambitious, but necessary. If they wanted merchants to come, they had to make it easy for them.


    Riven strode toward the worksite, Nyx falling into step beside him this time.


    "You''re not letting yourself rest at all, are you?" she mused.


    Riven smirked. "Should I?"


    She gave him a look but didn''t argue.


    The road stretched ahead, a clear path being carved into the once-broken land. Stones were laid to reinforce the dirt, making it sturdy, lasting. Unlike the crude, uneven trails that once marked this place, this would be a proper road¡ªsomething that spoke of order, stability, permanence.


    Workers hauled stone, breaking and setting them into place, slowly but surely forming the spine of the Shadow Kingdom''s connection to the outside world.


    Damon had been overseeing this part as well, working with a group of builders to plan the best path toward Eldrin''s Crossing.


    "It''s slower than I''d like," Damon admitted as he approached Riven and Nyx. "But it''s holding up. Won''t be long before it stretches all the way to the crossing."


    Riven studied the road. "And security?"


    Krux, who had also just arrived from the construction site, answered. "We''ll set up patrols. The last thing we need is some bandits deciding to claim our new trade route for themselves."


    "They won''t get the chance," Riven said coolly. "If anyone tries, we make an example of them."


    Damon smirked. "Now you''re talking."


    Mal approached, his silver eyes gleaming with excitement. "I just got word from Aria¡ªshe''s picked up news about an auction happening in Eldrin''s Crossing in three days," he said, slightly breathless. "This is the perfect opportunity to make serious coin and draw in potential merchant alliances."


    Riven turned to him fully, interest sparking. "What''s your plan?"


    "We introduce the herbs in controlled batches," Mal explained. "The auction house verifies all listed goods, so there won''t be any doubt about their authenticity. A single batch of these herbs is rare enough, but when they see multiple waves of them¡ªconsistently¡ªthey''ll be stunned." His grin sharpened. "That''s when they''ll start coming to us."


    Riven''s abyss-blue eyes flickered, amusement curling at the edges of his lips. "Perfect," he said, the weight of strategy already forming in his mind. "We''ll attend in disguise¡ªas merchants of the Shadow Kingdom."


    "I''ll start testing the plants immediately!" Mal said, his silver eyes gleaming as he practically sprinted toward his tent, already deep in thought.


    Krux let out a low chuckle beside Riven. "I don''t think I''ve ever seen Mal this excited before."


    Riven smirked, watching the alchemist disappear into his workspace. The energy in the air was palpable, and even he could feel the anticipation thrumming through his veins.


    Everything was falling into place.


    ¡ªx¡ª


    As the sun dipped beneath the horizon, the encampment settled into a steady rhythm. The sounds of hammering and stonework from the construction site faded, replaced by the distant crackle of cookfires and murmured conversations. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and mana-rich crops, a stark contrast to the lifeless wasteland this place had once been.


    Riven made his way toward Mal''s makeshift lab, positioned at the far end of the settlement. The tent, reinforced with dark cloth and lined with subtle enchantments, radiated a quiet hum of magic. The closer he got, the sharper the scents became¡ªburning herbs, concentrated mana, the faint acrid tang of alchemical reactions at work.


    He pushed aside the entrance flap, stepping into a space filled with controlled chaos.


    Mal stood at the center, surrounded by an array of glass vials, parchment notes, and bubbling cauldrons. The table before him was covered in neatly arranged herbs, each separated into their own sections. Several open books lay scattered, filled with scribbled observations and transmutation equations.


    Across the tent, Aria leaned against the wooden support beam, arms crossed, watching the process unfold with a quiet intensity. At the far end, a small cauldron emitted a swirling violet mist, its glow casting ghostly shadows against the canvas walls.


    "You''ve been at this for hours," Riven noted, stepping closer.


    Mal barely glanced up, too engrossed in his work. "Of course," he muttered. "You don''t throw unknown abyss-infused herbs into the market without knowing what they''ll do."


    Riven smirked slightly. "Find anything interesting?"


    Mal set down a vial of deep blue liquid, his silver eyes gleaming with excitement. "Oh, you have no idea."


    He gestured toward the table, where several vials were neatly arranged, each labeled with careful precision.


    Mal started with the first sample, holding up a vial containing a thick, dark purple extract.


    "Nightshade Marrow," he said. "Already known for its sedative properties, but after growing in abyss-infused soil? It''s at least four times stronger than normal. A single leaf in a potion will put someone to sleep for half a day. In higher doses, it could be used for something¡­ less peaceful." His smirk was sharp.


    Riven hummed, considering the implications.


    Next, Mal lifted a vial of shimmering liquid, nearly translucent.


    "This one is Etherbloom. Typically, it refines ambient mana into concentrated energy, used in high-tier mana potions. Our version?" He swirled the vial, watching as it pulsed faintly. "It''s so potent that even a diluted dose could rival the best potions in the Solis Kingdom. If we sell these to the right people, we''ll have a monopoly."


    Riven''s eyes gleamed. High-tier mana potions were always in demand¡ªby warriors, mages, even royalty. If they controlled the supply, they controlled the leverage.


    Mal moved to the next vial, holding up a deep crimson liquid that pulsed faintly.


    "Bloodroot." His expression grew more serious. "This one¡­ is unpredictable."


    Riven stepped closer, intrigued. "How so?"


    Mal carefully uncorked the vial, letting a thin wisp of mana drift toward it.


    Instantly, the liquid inside reacted¡ªdarkening, thickening, the golden veins within twisting as if alive.


    "It binds to mana," Mal explained, recorking the vial quickly. "Normally, Bloodroot is used to stop bleeding¡ªcoagulating blood and enhancing natural regeneration. But this strain reacts directly with mana. If used correctly, it could heal wounds faster than anything we''ve seen. But if misused, or introduced into a body with unstable mana reserves¡­" He shook his head. "It would do the opposite. Instead of healing, it could clog a person''s mana pathways. Kill them instantly."


    Riven studied the vial, weighing the risks. "This herb was already known to be a poison, so as long as we label the warnings correctly it will be fine to sell."


    Mal nodded. "Agreed."


    Moving on, he picked up another vial, this one containing a swirling dark mist.


    "Void Thistle." Mal''s tone dropped slightly. "An amplifier. Any potion mixed with this has its effects multiplied tenfold. Healing potions become miracles. Poisons become death sentences."


    Riven arched a brow. "And the risk?"


    Mal tapped the glass. "Too much exposure causes mana instability. Corrupts the user if they''re not careful."


    Riven smirked. "Sounds useful."


    Mal exhaled. "Depends on how we use it."


    Finally, Mal turned to the last sample¡ªthe Ashen Sage. A single silver petal lay on a black cloth, pulsing faintly, as if absorbing something unseen.


    "This," Mal said, voice quieter, "is the real anomaly."


    Riven watched as Mal lifted the petal with a pair of enchanted tongs.


    "Ashen Sage is rumored to purify curses, toxins, even death itself," Mal murmured. "But this one¡­ it doesn''t neutralize. It doesn''t cleanse." He hesitated. "It consumes."


    Riven''s gaze sharpened. "Consumes?"


    Mal nodded grimly. "It doesn''t just draw out poisons. It feeds on them. If used carefully, it could be revolutionary¡ªcapable of purging diseases or clearing mana corruption. But if misused?" He set the petal down carefully. "It could drain more than just impurities. It could take life force. Or worse¡ª consume mana hearts."


    Riven stared at the delicate petal, a realization settling over him.


    This wasn''t just medicine.


    This was a weapon.


    "Keep it hidden," Riven ordered. "We''ll deal with it later."


    Mal locked the sample away, sealing it with an enchanted sigil. "Understood."


    Aria, who had remained silent until now, finally spoke. "So what''s the move?"


    Riven turned to her. "We take a controlled fee batches to the auction in Eldrin''s Crossing. Let the merchants see the effects for themselves. We don''t give them everything¡ªjust enough to make them desperate."


    Mal grinned. "A taste of power, and they''ll be begging for more."


    Riven''s smirk mirrored his. "Exactly."


    He turned to Aria. "You leave at dawn. Gather intel on the merchants, the auction house, and who our biggest competitors will be."


    She gave a curt nod. "I''ll return before nightfall."


    Riven glanced back at Mal. "Prepare the auction samples. I want them ready when we leave."


    Mal bowed slightly. "Consider it done."


    With that, the meeting was concluded.


    Riven stepped out of the tent, inhaling the cool night air. The encampment was quiet now, the distant glow of torches flickering in the dark.


    The first step had been taken.


    The herbs had changed.


    The merchants would come.


    And soon, the Shadow Kingdom would make its first move in the world.

 Chapter 75 - 75: Journey to Eldrin’s Crossing

    The next few days passed in a relentless cycle. Seeds were planted, harvested, and planted again.


    Riven pushed his mana reserves to their limit, expanding the farmlands inch by inch. Each time he drained himself, he''d restore his energy with the new Etherbloom-infused mana potions Mal had crafted, only to push himself again. The process was exhausting, but the results spoke for themselves.


    By the end of it, the once-barren fields stretched farther than before, rich with abyss-touched crops. The storage room Krux had constructed¡ªsturdy, reinforced, and designed to preserve the herbs'' potency¡ªwas filled to the brim with carefully packed bundles. Rows of Nightshade Marrow, Bloodroot, Etherbloom, and Void Thistle were stacked neatly in crates, each labeled and sorted.


    Finally, when the last batch had been secured, Riven allowed himself to collapse into a chair near the cookfire, surrounded by his generals. His entire body ached from the days of relentless work, his mana reserves a constant cycle of depletion and restoration.


    Across from him, Nyx let out a groan, dropping onto the dirt floor as if her body had given out entirely. "Gods, I feel like I''m dying."


    "Tell me about it," Damon muttered, crouching near the fire to warm his dirt-streaked hands. His usual smirk was gone, replaced with exhaustion. "I don''t think I''ve built something so fast in my entire life."


    Riven glanced up at their handiwork¡ªthe towering three-story apartment block that now loomed over the encampment. It was modern, its structure inspired by the buildings he had seen in his previous life, yet adorned with intricate carvings and embellishments that gave it an unmistakable presence in this world.


    For a moment, the contrast struck him. A grand, sturdy building standing among the scattered tents and barren wasteland. It looked out of place¡ªyet at the same time, it was a symbol of what was coming.


    A future that would no longer be dust and ruins.


    Damon sighed, stretching out his legs. "The walls are still drying, but by tomorrow, you should be able to take a proper look around. If everything holds up, we can start moving some families in by nightfall. Give it a trial run."


    Riven nodded, closing his eyes as he let his head rest against the back of his chair. "Sounds good."


    The scent of rich spices and simmering meat filled the air, drawing everyone''s attention as Vera approached with a steaming pot of stew. As one of the people responsible for managing food distribution, she took her role seriously¡ªand the warm smile on her face told them she knew exactly how much they needed this meal.


    "Food''s ready," she announced, beginning to ladle out portions into wooden bowls.


    Riven sat up slightly, accepting his portion with a grateful nod. "Thank you, Vera."


    The woman leaned in slightly, lowering her voice as she handed him his bowl. "I gave you an extra scoop, my liege," she said warmly. "You''ve been working too hard."


    Before Riven could respond, Krux let out an exaggerated huff from across the fire. "Hey! I''ve been working hard too!"


    "Yeah, don''t be stingy, Vera!" Nyx chimed in, waving her empty bowl expectantly.


    Vera let out a laugh, shaking her head. "Alright, alright." She set the ladle down and walked over to a side crate, pulling out something wrapped in cloth. "I actually managed to arrange something special to celebrate the auction and the new homes."


    She unwrapped the bundle, revealing several wooden tankards filled with a sweet-smelling amber liquid.


    Mead.


    A rare commodity in the wastelands.


    The group perked up instantly.


    "Can I kiss you, Vera?" Nyx asked, deadpan, as she grabbed a tankard.


    "Me too! Me too!" Damon grinned before downing a long gulp of the drink, sighing in satisfaction.


    Aria accepted hers with a small smile, giving Vera a nod of appreciation. Beside her, Mal simply took his with a quiet "Thank you," though the exhaustion in his posture was evident. His under-eyes were darkened, the toll of staying up for two nights straight to ensure the herbs were properly packaged showing clearly.


    Riven took a sip of the mead, the warmth of the alcohol spreading through his tired body. It wasn''t strong, but it was smooth, sweetened with honey and something faintly spiced. A rare indulgence¡ªbut one they had all earned.


    Vera wagged a finger at them. "Now eat quickly before the food gets cold. And don''t forget¡ªtonight, you''re all getting a full night''s rest."


    "Yes, Vera," they all replied in unison, even Riven, before digging into the food.


    The warmth of the meal, the clinking of tankards, and the rare moment of respite settled over the group like a comforting blanket. For the first time in days, the weight of rebuilding didn''t feel quite so crushing.


    Riven leaned back in his chair, letting the warmth of the stew spread through his body. The exhaustion was still there, but for now, it was manageable. Across the fire, Nyx had half-curled into herself, her tankard balanced precariously on her knee as she took slow sips. Damon, now on his second serving of mead, had finally relaxed enough to stretch out his legs and lean back on his elbows.


    Krux wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "So, what''s the plan for tomorrow?" he asked, turning to Riven.


    Riven tapped his fingers against the arm of his chair, considering. "First, we inspect the apartment building and ensure everything is structurally sound before moving people in. Then, we finalize the auction details."


    Mal, who had been absentmindedly swirling his mead, nodded. "I''ll do another round of checks on the herbs tonight. We''ve already confirmed their potency, but I want to ensure they''re properly sealed before we transport them."


    "I''ll help," Aria offered, shifting slightly. "No offense, but you look like you might pass out before you finish."


    Mal smirked but didn''t argue.


    "The road is also coming along," Damon added, tilting his head toward Riven. "I have patrol rotations set up, but we should check it before we leave for Eldrin''s Crossing."


    Riven exhaled, running a hand through his hair. There was still much to be done, but they were close.


    So close.


    Nyx raised her tankard lazily. "To the auction, then?"


    Damon lifted his. "To gold in our pockets."


    Aria clinked hers against Mal''s. "To making the merchants beg."


    Krux grinned. "To the Shadow Kingdom."


    Riven hesitated, then lifted his own tankard.


    "To our future," he said.


    They drank.


    The night stretched on, conversation flowing easily, the fire crackling against the cool evening air. For a while, it almost felt normal. As if they weren''t in the middle of a rebuilding effort, as if they weren''t surrounded by ruins and hardship. Just a group of warriors, survivors, and leaders sharing a drink under the open sky.


    One by one, they drifted to their tents, exhaustion winning out over celebration.


    Riven stayed behind a moment longer, his gaze lingering on the encampment. The apartment complex loomed in the distance, solid and real. The fields, now thriving with abyss-touched crops, pulsed faintly under the moonlight. The road leading to Eldrin''s Crossing stretched further than it had days ago.


    The Shadow Kingdom was no longer a forgotten ruin.


    It was rising.


    And soon, the world would know it.


    With that final thought, Riven exhaled and stood, making his way toward his tent.


    Tomorrow, the next step of their plan would begin.


    And he was ready.


    ¡ªx¡ª


    The morning air was crisp and cool, carrying the scent of damp earth and freshly tilled soil. A faint mist clung to the farmland as Riven stepped out of his tent, stretching his sore limbs. The exhaustion from the last few days still lingered, but after a full night''s rest, his mind was sharp, and his body¡ªthough aching¡ªfelt steady.


    Today marked the final preparations before their departure to Eldrin''s Crossing.


    He exhaled, stretching his limbs once more before heading towards the apartment complex. The three-story building stood solid against the barren landscape, a stark contrast to the temporary tents scattered throughout the encampment. Workers bustled around the site, reinforcing the structure and cleaning up debris.


    Damon was already there, overseeing the final touches. He leaned against a half-assembled railing on the second floor, barking orders to the builders below. When he spotted Riven, he gave a mock salute.


    "Your Majesty finally decides to check my masterpiece?" Damon grinned as he hopped down the half-built staircase.


    Riven arched a brow. "Your masterpiece?"


    Damon huffed. "You might have drawn up the blueprints, but I''m the one who turned them into reality."


    Riven crossed his arms, glancing over the building. "And? Will it hold?"


    Damon scoffed. "Of course. I''d never put my name on shoddy work. The stone reinforcements are holding strong, and we ran tests on the support beams¡ªeverything''s sturdy. The first families can move in tonight." sea??h th§× n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Riven nodded in approval. "Then let''s make sure they''re settled before we leave."


    Damon''s smirk widened as he dropped into a dramatic bow. "Of course, my liege."


    Riven ignored him and turned towards the farmland, where Mal and Aria were busy loading crates of herbs onto reinforced carts. The storage room, once overflowing, had been neatly sorted, with only the best batches prepared for transport.


    Mal looked up as Riven approached, his silver eyes bright with focus despite the dark circles beneath them. "Everything''s packed," he said, wiping his hands on a cloth. "We''ll take two carts¡ªone for the Etherbloom and Nightshade Marrow and another for the Void Thistle and Bloodroot."


    Riven eyed the crates, noting the reinforced seals and protective enchantments drawn over them. "You''ve tested everything?"


    Mal nodded. "Aria helped last night. Each herb is in peak condition. The merchants won''t have any doubt about their quality."


    Aria, leaning against the cart, smirked. "Once they see the potency of our stock, they''ll be begging to buy."


    Riven''s gaze darkened slightly. "That''s the goal."


    Nyx joined them then, tying her hair back into a loose knot. "Scouting report''s in." She handed Riven a parchment. "Eldrin''s Crossing is busy¡ªbusier than usual. Seems like several influential merchant guilds have arrived ahead of the auction."


    Riven scanned the report quickly. "Any trouble?"


    "Nothing unusual, but we should still be cautious," Nyx said. "You''ll be posing as Shadow Kingdom merchants, but if anyone gets suspicious, it could complicate things."


    "Let them suspect," Riven murmured. "They won''t act unless they''re sure. And by the time they are, it''ll be too late."


    Nyx''s lips curled in amusement. "I like when you talk like that."


    Riven rolled his eyes and turned back to Mal. "How long until we''re ready to leave?"


    Mal double-checked the carts. "If we finish loading, we can depart by midday."


    "Good," Riven said. "Then let''s get moving."


    As the final crates were secured, the reality of what they were about to do settled over the group.


    This auction wasn''t just about selling herbs.


    It was about making the Shadow Kingdom known again.


    And Riven intended to make sure the world never forgot it.


    ¡ªx¡ª


    By midday, the encampment buzzed with movement. Workers and soldiers moved efficiently, securing the final adjustments on the two carts carrying their precious cargo. The medicinal herbs¡ªcarefully packed and reinforced with protective enchantments¡ªgleamed faintly under the harsh sunlight, their storage crates lined with mana seals to preserve potency.


    Riven stood beside the lead cart, arms crossed as he watched the last of the preparations. The air carried a weight of expectation. Today marked their first step outside the safety of the Shadow Kingdom''s borders¡ªnot as wandering survivors, but as traders carrying something the world had never seen before.


    Mal double-checked the straps on the crates before straightening. "Everything''s accounted for. The protection sigils are stable, and I reinforced the locking mechanisms. But even with the enchantments, it wouldn''t hurt to keep a close eye on them." His silver eyes flickered toward Riven. "Are you sure it''s just the two of us going? We''d be safer with more hands."


    Riven shook his head. "A larger group would draw too much attention. If something goes wrong, we can handle it."


    Nyx approached then, adjusting the hood of her cloak. "You both know the plan¡ªonce you enter Eldrin''s Crossing, you''re not warlords or rulers. You''re independent traders from the frontier. No mention of the Shadow Kingdom. You''re new to the trade, but well-connected enough to justify the goods." She met Riven''s gaze. "Keep your cover."


    "We will," Riven assured her.


    Krux stood nearby, arms folded, his sharp golden eyes scanning the horizon. "I''ve stationed patrols along the road. They''ll stay out of sight, but if anything unusual happens, they''ll be close enough to intervene."


    Riven nodded. "Good. Keep the encampment secure while we''re gone."


    Damon exhaled through his nose, clearly displeased about being left behind. "I still don''t like this. If someone recognizes you¡ª"


    "They won''t," Riven said flatly. "And if they do, it won''t matter."


    Damon scoffed, but he didn''t argue further. Instead, he clapped Mal on the back. "Try not to let our king here start a war before the auction''s even over."


    Mal smirked. "I make no promises."


    Aria stepped forward then, "The herbs will sell themselves. The more desperate the merchants are, the better for us. Let them fight for the privilege of doing business."


    Riven''s expression darkened with amusement. "That''s the goal."


    Damon crossed his arms. "And if anyone tries to undercut you?"


    "We remind them who they''re dealing with," Riven said simply.


    Damon grinned. "That''s what I like to hear."


    With everything in place, Riven climbed onto the lead cart, settling into the driver''s seat with Mal beside him. The horses, well-fed and sturdy, shifted restlessly as if sensing the shift in atmosphere. The others stood watching, their postures tense despite their confidence in him.


    Riven took one last glance at the encampment¡ªthe apartment complex standing firm against the wasteland, the fields pulsing with abyssal energy, the people who had once been scattered survivors now growing into something more.


    This was only the beginning.


    With a flick of the reins, the cart rolled forward, dust kicking up in its wake as the journey to Eldrin''s Crossing began.

 Chapter 76 - 76: The Auction Part 1

    The wasteland stretched before them, the cracked and barren terrain slowly giving way to patches of green. The road, while still rough in places, had been improved enough for travel. Scattered shrubs and lone trees dotted the landscape, a quiet reminder that even in the harshest lands, life could still take root.


    They moved at a steady pace, blending in with the occasional traders they passed on the road. Their carts bore no royal insignia, no markings of power¡ªjust the air of frontier merchants moving rare, valuable goods.


    As the sun dipped lower in the sky, the land began to shift. The harsh wastelands softened into rolling fields. The road widened, well-trodden and maintained¡ªa clear sign that they were nearing a settlement of importance.


    By the time they crested the next ridge, Eldrin''s Crossing sprawled before them.


    The town was bustling with movement. It was a major trading hub, positioned at the crossroads of several key routes. Unlike the Shadow Kingdom''s encampment, Eldrin''s Crossing was well-established¡ªfortified stone walls surrounded the settlement, watchtowers stationed at regular intervals. Within, the streets were lined with merchant stalls, vendors calling out their wares, and travelers passing through.


    At the heart of it all, the auction hall stood like a beacon¡ªthree stories of polished stone, its banners bearing the symbol of the Eldrin Trade Syndicate, one of the largest independent auction houses in the region.


    Mal let out a low whistle. "Looks busier than usual."


    Riven adjusted the hood of his cloak, ensuring his features were obscured. "The auction must have drawn in more merchants than expected."


    Mal nodded toward a few banners hanging along the streets. "Silver Veil Consortium is here. And the Deveroux Guild." His silver eyes flickered with something sharp. "Both high-profile groups."


    Riven''s fingers drummed lightly against the reins. "The Deveroux Guild might be a problem. Let''s just hope the Duke didn''t come here himself."


    As they reached the town''s entrance, a pair of guards stepped forward, stopping the carts.


    "State your business," one of them said, his gaze flickering toward the sealed crates.


    Mal spoke first, his voice smooth and businesslike. "We''re traders from the wastes, here for the auction. Carrying rare medicinal herbs, verified and pre-approved for listing."


    The guard frowned but nodded after a brief glance at the auction permits Mal had forged earlier. "Everything seems in order." He stepped back, motioning them through. "Welcome to Eldrin''s Crossing."


    The carts rolled forward, seamlessly blending into the stream of traders entering the town.


    The streets of Eldrin''s Crossing were alive with movement. The town, positioned at the heart of several major trade routes, pulsed with an energy distinct from the wastelands Riven had grown accustomed to. Traders called out their wares, hawking spices from the southern deserts, fabrics from the eastern isles, and weapons forged with rare enchantments. The scent of roasting meat, fresh bread, and exotic perfumes mingled with the ever-present clatter of hooves and voices.


    Riven''s grip on the reins was loose but firm as he guided the lead cart through the crowd. Mal sat beside him, his silver eyes scanning every face, every flicker of interest their caravan received. The herbs were securely packed, their seals intact, but the mere presence of two carts laden with high-grade medicinal goods was enough to turn heads.


    The Eldrin Trade Syndicate''s auction house loomed ahead, a massive three-story structure of polished stone and reinforced steel. Banners bearing the syndicate''s crest¡ªa twin-headed serpent wrapped around a balance scale¡ªhung from its balconies, fluttering in the warm autumn breeze.


    As they neared the entrance, a group of uniformed Syndicate Assessors stood at the ready, their long robes marked with silver embroidery denoting their rank. One of them, an older man with sharp blue eyes and a calculating gaze, stepped forward to greet them.


    "State your name and purpose," he said, his tone polite but firm.


    Mal dismounted first, flashing a practiced merchant''s smile. "We''re independent traders from the wastes, here to register our goods for auction."


    The assessor''s gaze flicked to the carts, taking in the sealed crates. "Medicinal herbs?" He arched a brow. "Your kind rarely brings such refined stock."


    Riven stepped down from the cart, keeping his hood low, though his abyss-blue eyes caught the assessor''s attention for a brief second. "We represent a rising power in the wastes," he said evenly. "One that intends to leave its mark on the trade world."


    The man studied him for a long moment before nodding. "Follow me." He motioned for two younger assistants to inspect the crates. "Your goods will need to be authenticated before they can be listed."


    Mal''s smirk never wavered. "Of course."


    They followed the assessor inside, the doors of the auction house swinging open to reveal a grand hall lined with polished marble and obsidian pillars. Chandeliers of enchanted crystal cast a soft, golden glow over the room, where merchants and nobles milled about, discussing upcoming bids in hushed but excited tones.


    At the far end of the hall, a large wooden counter served as the auction''s registration and appraisal area. Several teams of Alchemical Appraisers were stationed there, each one surrounded by stacks of goods waiting to be authenticated¡ªrare jewels, enchanted artifacts, bolts of mana-infused silk.


    The assessor led them to an unoccupied station, where a woman in deep violet robes sat waiting. Her long fingers, adorned with rings that pulsed with faint magical energy, tapped against the table as she regarded them with curiosity.


    "Another herb shipment?" she asked, her voice smooth but uninterested.


    Mal lifted the first crate onto the counter with practiced ease. "Not just any herbs."


    The woman raised a brow but said nothing as she unsealed the crate, activating the auction''s verification array. A shimmering golden rune spread over the contents, scanning for impurities, forgeries, or cursed items.


    As the lid came off, the faint glow of abyss-touched energy pulsed from within.


    The room shifted.


    The appraiser''s casual demeanor stiffened, her hands pausing mid-motion as her gaze locked onto the contents of the crate. The nearby assessors turned their heads, some even stepping closer.


    Mal smirked, crossing his arms. "Told you."


    The woman exhaled sharply and reached for a pair of enchanted gloves, slipping them on before picking up the first bundle of Etherbloom. The petals, a delicate crystalline blue, shimmered faintly, saturated with purified mana.


    She turned it in her hands, examining it under the light of a detection crystal. A faint hum filled the air.


    "¡­This saturation level is unnatural," she murmured. She set the Etherbloom down and moved to the Nightshade Marrow, carefully peeling back a leaf and extracting a drop of its sap. She let it fall onto a test parchment, watching as the liquid absorbed, turning a deep silver rather than the expected dark green.


    Her fingers twitched slightly.


    Mal''s grin widened. "You''re starting to see it, aren''t you?"


    The appraiser exhaled slowly, her voice quieter now. "Where did you get these?"


    Riven spoke before Mal could. "The Shadow Kingdom."


    A beat of silence passed.


    Then, the appraiser''s head snapped up, her expression unreadable. "The Shadow Kingdom is destroyed ¡ª gone."


    Mal leaned forward, lowering his voice just enough to force her to listen. "Then how do you explain those herbs sitting in your hands?" S§×ar?h the N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Her gaze flickered between the two of them, something wary creeping into her expression. She was a professional, but she wasn''t foolish¡ªshe knew the weight of what was being presented.


    "I will need to run a full verification process," she said after a pause. "The final appraisal results will be released before the auction begins. If everything checks out¡­ your stock will be placed in the High-Tier Auction Lot."


    Mal barely suppressed a triumphant grin. "Perfect."


    The woman hesitated. "You realize what you''re implying, don''t you? If word spreads that the Shadow Kingdom is real¡ª"


    "Let it spread," Riven interrupted smoothly. His gaze burned with quiet certainty. "We''re not here to hide."


    The appraiser studied him, something like understanding passing through her features. Then, without another word, she sealed the first crate with an official auction mark.


    One by one, the remaining crates were tested, their potency verified under layers of magical inspection. And each time, the result was the same¡ªsuperior, untouched, undeniably rare.


    By the time the last crate had been marked for auction, whispers had already begun spreading through the hall.


    Not just about the herbs.


    But about the traders who had brought them.


    ¡ªx¡ª


    Riven sat in one of the auction house''s private lounges, a glass of dark wine untouched in front of him. Mal, reclining comfortably in the chair across from him, swirled his own drink lazily, watching the room beyond the private window.


    "They''re talking about us already," Mal mused. "That appraiser wasted no time."


    Riven wasn''t surprised. The moment the auction''s high-tier listings had been updated, the biggest players in Eldrin''s Crossing had taken notice. The Silver Veil Consortium, the Drakos Guild, and now, the Deveroux Guild¡ªeach one had sent representatives to inquire about the origin of their goods.


    "They won''t act yet," Riven murmured, eyes cold. "But they''re interested."


    Mal set his glass down, his silver eyes gleaming. "And that''s exactly what we wanted."


    The private lounge provided a perfect vantage point over the bustling auction floor. Through the semi-tinted glass window, Riven could see the growing crowds, the way merchants whispered to one another, some already making inquiries with auction house officials.


    Their plan was working.


    Mal smirked as he leaned back in his chair, his silver eyes glinting with amusement. "They''re scrambling. I caught a few of the Silver Veil Consortium''s brokers trying to get a peek at our inventory list. The Deveroux Guild sent one of their analysts to ''casually'' review the high-tier lot. And the Deveroux Guild¡­" He trailed off, swirling his wine. "They''re the most interesting."


    Riven''s gaze darkened slightly. "How so?"


    Mal set his glass down, eyes sharp. "They didn''t just send a broker¡ªthey sent a handler. Someone with actual authority. Which means someone high up in the guild is paying attention."


    That was expected. The Deveroux Guild was ruthless when it came to monopolizing trade routes. Their connections ran deep, spanning across multiple kingdoms, and their leader¡ªDuke Lucien Deveroux¡ªwas notorious for acquiring, absorbing, or outright eliminating competition.


    Riven wasn''t na?ve. If Lucien caught wind of the Shadow Kingdom''s resurgence, he wouldn''t just be curious.


    He''d see it as a threat.


    However, he and the Duke had a past¡ªone that could be leveraged if necessary. If played right, Riven was confident he could turn the Duke into an ally.


    And if not¡­ he would handle it.


    He exhaled, steepling his fingers in thought. "For now, let them observe. They''ll gather what they can before deciding their next move."


    Mal hummed. "And when they come knocking?"


    Riven''s smirk was cold. "We make them knock harder."


    The door to the lounge creaked open, and a well-dressed auction official stepped inside. The man, a middle-aged bureaucrat with neatly combed graying hair, inclined his head respectfully.


    "Gentlemen," he greeted smoothly, clasping his hands. "The preliminary appraisals have been completed, and I am pleased to inform you that your goods have been officially approved for the High-Tier Auction Lot."


    Mal feigned surprise. "Oh? That''s wonderful news."


    The official gave a tight-lipped smile. "Yes. Your medicinal herbs were¡­ highly unique. The Etherbloom''s mana concentration alone caught the attention of several alchemists on our verification team. The Void Thistle and Bloodroot, however¡ª" He hesitated, as if measuring his words. "¡ªare considered volatile commodities. We had to run additional tests before confirming their inclusion."


    Riven met the man''s gaze. "And?"


    The official exhaled. "All results came back clean. The properties of your herbs were authenticated as natural and untainted." A pause. "Which, frankly, makes them even more valuable."


    That was the expected outcome. Riven had personally ensured that the herbs, though abyss-touched, retained no trace of corruption. He wanted them powerful, not cursed.


    "The auction will begin tomorrow evening," the official continued. "Your items have been cataloged under a special ''Mystic Flora Lot'' to distinguish them from standard medicinal goods."


    Riven chuckled. "A fancy way of saying, ''we don''t know where the hell these came from, but they''re worth a fortune''."


    The official coughed slightly but didn''t deny it.


    "There has also been significant interest in the origins of these goods," he admitted carefully. "Several merchants have already inquired about your trading company." His gaze flicked to Riven, his expression unreadable. "We understand if you prefer to keep that information private."


    Mal grinned. "No need. You can let them know¡ªwe hail from the Shadow Kingdom."


    The official stiffened, a flicker of something passing through his face. Shock? Caution? Interest?


    He composed himself quickly. "The Shadow Kingdom, you say?" A carefully neutral tone.


    Riven''s gaze didn''t waver. "Yes."


    Silence stretched for a moment.


    Then, the official nodded. "Understood." He reached into his coat, pulling out two auction registration badges and setting them on the table. "These will grant you access to all high-tier bidding events and private negotiations. As official consignors, you are free to observe the auction from any of the reserved lounges."


    Mal picked up one of the badges, inspecting the intricate gold lettering. "And our cut?"


    The official gave a thin smile. "The auction house takes a 12% commission on all sales." He folded his hands together. "Standard for high-tier consignors."


    Mal shot Riven a glance. They both knew the real negotiations wouldn''t happen at the auction itself¡ªthe moment buyers saw the value of their herbs, backdoor deals would be made before the first bids were even placed.


    "We appreciate the hospitality," Riven said, slipping the badge into his pocket. "We''ll see you tomorrow."


    The official gave a short bow. "Good luck, gentlemen."


    With that, he turned and left.


    As soon as the door shut, Mal let out a low whistle. "Well, well¡­ I think we just threw a whole nest of vultures into a frenzy."


    Riven leaned back in his chair, fingers tapping against the table. "Let them fight over the scraps first." His voice was calm. "Then we decide who gets the real feast."


    ¡ªx¡ª


    The night air was cool and crisp, carrying the scent of spiced wine, roasting meats, and expensive perfumes. The Merchant''s Hall, an opulent gathering space reserved for high-profile traders and nobility, was bustling with activity.


    Riven and Mal moved through the space like shadows, drawing eyes but never staying in one place too long.


    Whispers followed them.


    "Did you hear? Those merchants¡ªthey claim to be from the Shadow Kingdom."


    "Impossible. That place is a graveyard."


    "Then explain those herbs."


    "If they''re telling the truth¡­ the implications are enormous."


    Riven let them talk.


    Let the rumors spread.


    The more uncertain they were, the more power he held.


    At one of the central lounge areas, a well-dressed man in a dark green silk coat caught Riven''s eye. He was engaged in conversation with a few other high-ranking merchants, but his gaze kept flicking toward them.


    Mal noticed too. "Deveroux''s handler," he murmured under his breath.


    Riven made a split-second decision.


    They weren''t going to wait for an approach.


    They were going to make their first move.


    With measured steps, Riven strode directly toward the man.


    The merchant¡ªclearly someone important¡ªturned fully as they neared, his sharp gray eyes narrowing slightly in interest.


    Riven stopped just short, his presence cool and commanding. "You''ve been watching us," he said smoothly. "Do you have something to ask?"


    The man studied him for a long moment. Then, he offered a slow smile, tilting his wine glass slightly. "No need to be so direct. I was merely¡­ intrigued."


    Mal smirked. "By the herbs, or by the people selling them?"


    The merchant chuckled. "Both." He set his glass down. "But I suppose proper introductions are in order." He placed a hand over his chest in a formal merchant''s greeting.


    "My name is Veylen Deveroux. I represent the Deveroux Guild''s interests in Eldrin''s Crossing." His expression was polite, but his gaze was sharp. "And you are¡­?"


    Riven let the silence hang for just a moment.


    Then, he gave a slow, deliberate smirk.


    "We are merchants from the Shadow Kingdom."


    Veylen''s expression didn''t change.


    But Riven caught it.


    The flicker of recognition. The hint of calculation. The weight of realization.


    "Ah," Veylen murmured, voice smooth as silk. He picked up his wine glass again, swirling the deep red liquid. "Then I believe we have much to discuss."


    Riven''s eyes gleamed.


    "Indeed, we do."

 Chapter 77 - 77: The Auction Part 2

    The room pulsed with quiet tension, the weight of unseen calculations filling the space between them. Riven studied Veylen Deveroux as the man leaned back in his chair, his expression unreadable beneath the flickering candlelight.


    A handler for the Deveroux Guild wasn''t just a merchant. He was a strategist, a man who knew exactly how to push, pull, and manipulate markets to the Guild''s advantage. If he was here, it meant the Deveroux Guild saw value in their presence.


    Or danger.


    Veylen took a slow sip of his wine, eyes sharp over the rim of his glass. "The Shadow Kingdom," he repeated, as if testing the weight of the words. "That''s quite the claim."


    Riven smiled, slow and measured. "It''s not a claim. It''s a fact."


    A few murmurs from nearby tables signaled that their conversation was already drawing attention. Veylen was too high-profile for subtle meetings, which meant this was a deliberate move¡ªone meant to apply pressure.


    Good. Let them listen.


    Veylen hummed. "Strange, then. Last I heard, the Shadow Kingdom was little more than a ruin¡ªabandoned, forgotten. Nothing of value left to salvage." He tilted his head. "And yet here you are, selling herbs more potent than anything this region has seen in decades."


    Mal chuckled, resting his arm along the back of his chair. "Guess you heard wrong, then."


    Veylen didn''t look at him. His gaze stayed locked on Riven. "If your Kingdom is truly rising, that means two things," he said, voice smooth but carrying an unmistakable edge. "First, you''ll need allies."


    Riven''s fingers drummed against the armrest. "And second?"


    Veylen smirked. "You''ll make enemies."


    Silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken implications.


    Riven let the moment breathe before he answered. "That was always going to happen. Power doesn''t go unnoticed."


    Veylen studied him for a long moment, then exhaled in amusement. "You understand how this game is played, then. If you want to carve out a place in the trade world, you''ll need more than just high-quality goods. You''ll need protection. Leverage."


    Riven met his gaze, blue eyes unblinking. "And you think the Deveroux Guild can provide that?"


    Veylen chuckled. "We don''t offer protection. We offer opportunity. And in our world, the right opportunity is far more valuable than any sword or fortress."


    Mal tapped his fingers against the table. "What do you want, Veylen?"


    The merchant swirled his wine, thoughtful. "I want to know what your next move is." His voice lowered slightly. "These herbs are valuable. But they''re a glimpse, not the full picture. You wouldn''t risk revealing yourselves for a single auction. So tell me¡­" He set his glass down. "What''s your real play?"


    Riven leaned back, considering.


    This was the test.


    Veylen was fishing for information¡ªseeing if they were reckless, overambitious, or simply another upstart faction trying to make noise. If they played this wrong, the Deveroux Guild would either move to control them¡­ or eliminate them.


    But Riven wasn''t here to play by their rules.


    His smile was slow, deliberate. "We''re not here for scraps, Veylen."


    The merchant''s expression didn''t change, but something in his posture shifted¡ªan almost imperceptible flicker of interest.


    "We''re here to set the foundation for something bigger," Riven continued, his voice calm but unwavering. "This auction is just the first step. We''re not selling out. We''re inviting the world to realize what''s coming."


    Veylen''s fingers drummed against his glass. "And what exactly is coming?"


    Riven exhaled, his smirk turning razor-sharp.


    "A new power."


    The words settled between them like a loaded crossbow. S~ea??h the N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Veylen watched him carefully, then, after a beat, chuckled under his breath. "Bold." He lifted his glass again, tilting it slightly in mock toast. "Lucien will be interested in hearing about this."


    Mal smirked. "That was the idea."


    Veylen finished his drink, setting the empty glass down. "I''ll pass the word along." He stood, adjusting the cuffs of his coat. "I imagine we''ll be speaking again soon."


    Riven inclined his head. "Count on it."


    With that, Veylen turned and walked away, slipping seamlessly back into the flow of the Merchant''s Hall.


    As soon as he was out of earshot, Mal exhaled, shaking his head with a low whistle. "Well, that wasn''t ominous at all."


    Riven picked up his own glass, rolling the dark wine in his fingers. "We''ve got their attention."


    Mal grinned. "And now?"


    Riven took a slow sip, the taste rich and smooth.


    "Now," he murmured, "we wait."


    ¡ªx¡ª


    The following evening, the auction hall was packed. Nobles, merchants, and guild representatives filled the chamber, eager for the first bids of the night. The Mystic Flora Lot was scheduled for later in the event, but already, anticipation buzzed in the air.


    Riven and Mal sat in one of the private balconies, watching as lower-tier items were auctioned off¡ªrare gems, enchanted armor, rare spell scrolls. The bids climbed quickly, gold exchanging hands in the thousands.


    When the time finally came for their herbs, the atmosphere shifted.


    The auctioneer stepped forward, clearing his throat. "Ladies and gentlemen, our next set of items comes from a newly established trade faction, presenting a collection of medicinal herbs unlike any seen before."


    Whispers rippled through the crowd.


    "Our first lot¡ªEtherbloom."


    The crate was carried onto the stage, unsealed under the glowing verification array. The delicate petals shimmered beneath the light, pulsing with an ethereal glow.


    Gasps echoed from the alchemists in attendance.


    "The mana purity level of this batch is recorded at an unprecedented 98%. We will start bidding at 500 gold."


    The first bid came instantly. Then another. And another.


    Within seconds, the price had skyrocketed past 3,000 gold.


    Mal leaned back, smirking. "Looks like we''ve got their attention."


    Riven''s gaze swept the crowd, noting the figures who bid the highest¡ªthe Silver Veil Consortium, the Drakos Guild, several independent aristocrats. And, of course, a quiet, watchful presence in the Deveroux Guild''s private booth.


    They weren''t just here to buy.


    They were here to assess the real weight of their competition.


    The bidding war continued, numbers climbing higher with each passing moment.


    By the time the first Etherbloom crate was sold, the final price stood at 7,200 gold.


    Mal let out a low whistle. "That''s nearly three times the normal market value."


    Riven didn''t smile. "That was the test."


    Mal arched a brow. "And the real fight?"


    Riven''s eyes gleamed. "Starts now."


    The next item was Nightshade Marrow. Then Bloodroot. Then Void Thistle.


    Each time, the same pattern repeated¡ªinitial hesitation, then a frenzied battle as buyers realized just how rare these herbs were.


    By the time the final crate was presented¡ªthe largest supply of their stock¡ªthe entire auction floor was a battlefield of gold and status.


    The auction hall buzzed with tension, the air thick with anticipation as the final crate of abyss-touched herbs was brought onto the stage. The auctioneer, ever the showman, let the moment stretch, letting the weight of expectation settle over the crowd before he spoke.


    "Our final lot for the Mystic Flora Collection¡ªan exclusive batch of Void Thistle, Etherbloom, Nightshade Marrow, and Bloodroot, freshly harvested and unparalleled in purity." His hand swept over the shimmering verification array above the crate. "Each specimen has been authenticated as one of the most potent medicinal resources found in the last century."


    A hush fell over the room.


    Then¡ª


    "Starting bid: 3,000 gold."


    The first bid came fast.


    "3,500."


    "4,000."


    The numbers climbed with dizzying speed.


    Mal leaned forward in his seat, watching the chaos unfold. "They''re losing their damn minds."


    Riven, however, wasn''t watching the bidders. He was watching who wasn''t bidding.


    In the Deveroux Guild''s private booth, Veylen sat in conversation with an older man¡ªrefined, composed, his posture exuding control. Even from a distance, Riven could recognize the quiet authority in him.


    Lucien Deveroux, the Duke of Trade himself.


    The one man in this auction hall who hadn''t moved a muscle.


    "7,000."


    "7,500."


    The Drakos Guild representative scowled. "8,000."


    The Silver Veil Consortium''s bidder responded almost instantly. "8,600."


    The noble in blue hesitated, then lowered his token. The Drakos Guild did the same.


    That left only the Silver Veil Consortium in the lead.


    The auctioneer glanced around. "8,600 gold, going once¡ª"


    Then a voice, smooth and deliberate, cut through the hall.


    "10,000."


    A ripple of murmurs swept through the room.


    Every head turned toward the Deveroux Guild''s booth.


    Veylen remained still, but it was Lucien Deveroux himself who had placed the bid.


    The Silver Veil Consortium''s representative hesitated. Then, slowly, she sat back in her chair, folding her hands.


    The room waited, but no counter-bid came.


    The auctioneer, visibly pleased by the dramatic turn, cleared his throat. "10,000 gold, going once¡ªgoing twice¡ª"


    The gavel struck.


    "Sold to the Deveroux Guild."


    Mal let out a low whistle. "That''s ten thousand gold. You know how many fully stocked caravans we could buy with that?"


    Riven didn''t answer.


    His gaze was locked onto Lucien, who had finally lifted his glass in a silent toast toward their private balcony.


    A message.


    And an invitation.


    ¡ªx¡ª


    The auction had barely concluded when the summons arrived.


    A polite request, veiled as an invitation.


    But Riven knew better.


    This was a demand.


    A meeting with the Deveroux Guild¡ªimmediate and private.


    As he and Mal strode through the dim corridors of the auction house''s upper levels, the air carried the weight of unseen eyes.


    Mal adjusted the collar of his coat, his smirk sharp. "Think they''ll play nice?"


    Riven let out a quiet chuckle, dark and knowing. "No."


    Mal grinned. "Good. Would''ve been boring otherwise."


    They reached the negotiation chamber. The doors were heavy, reinforced with intricate carvings¡ªgold for wealth, steel for power.


    Inside, the room was controlled luxury. Muted gold accents, thick soundproofed walls, a heavy wooden table at its center.


    Veylen was already seated, lounging with casual ease, but it was the man beside him who commanded the space.


    Middle-aged, refined, dressed in a dark high-collared coat adorned with the insignias of the Deveroux Guild. His face was lean, aristocratic¡ªhis gray eyes cold and assessing.


    Lucien Deveroux.


    The Duke of Trade.


    A man who could make or break nations¡ªnot with swords, but with gold.


    With a subtle flick of his wrist, shadows coiled around Riven''s face, shifting like living smoke. The contours of his features blurred, his blue eyes vanishing beneath the shifting veil of darkness.


    A precaution.


    He had met Lucien Deveroux before in the Solis Kingdom. The Duke was a man who remembered faces, and Riven had no interest in explaining himself. Not yet.


    Not while the game was still unfolding.


    His voice remained steady, unreadable beneath the veil of shadow.


    "Duke Deveroux."


    A pause. Calculated.


    "You wished to meet with us?"


    Lucien Deveroux''s gaze flickered with interest, but he showed no surprise at the shadows that veiled Riven''s face. If anything, his expression remained calm, composed¡ªas if he had expected something like this.


    He leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled, and regarded Riven with quiet scrutiny. "It seems the rumors were true," he mused. "The Shadow Kingdom breathes again."


    Riven tilted his head slightly. "Did you doubt it?"


    Lucien chuckled, low and knowing. "I expected whispers, remnants, perhaps even ambitious scavengers hoping to revive old glories." His gray eyes sharpened. "What I did not expect was a power bold enough to announce itself in an auction hall."


    Veylen smirked beside him, swirling his wine. "You''ve certainly stirred the market. Our associates were rather eager to learn where exactly these herbs of yours are being cultivated."


    Mal stretched lazily in his chair, his grin edged with amusement. "And yet, here we are. Discussing business, not threats."


    Lucien exhaled, studying Riven. "For now."


    The words were light, but the meaning was clear.


    This was not an alliance.


    Not yet.


    This was a weighing of scales.

 Chapter 78 - 78: The Auction Part 3

    Lucien leaned forward, his voice dropping slightly. "Tell me, merchants of the Shadow Kingdom, what exactly do you want?"


    Riven''s eyes gleamed beneath the shifting veil of darkness. "The same thing you do," he said smoothly. "Power. Control. Stability."


    Lucien arched a brow. "And you believe the Deveroux Guild can help you achieve that?"


    Riven''s smile was razor-sharp. "I believe we can help each other."


    Lucien studied him for a moment, then gestured lightly. "Go on."


    Riven didn''t hesitate. "I''m offering you an exclusive contract," he said smoothly. "For one year, the Deveroux Guild will have sole distribution rights to our herbs. No other merchant factions, no outside brokers¡ªjust you."


    Lucien remained impassive. "And in exchange?"


    "Seventy percent of the profits come to us," Riven stated, his voice calm, measured. "And you supply us with what we need¡ªskilled workers. Builders, carpenters, blacksmiths, seamstresses. The Shadow Kingdom is growing, but to accelerate that growth, we require infrastructure."


    For the first time, Lucien let out a short, quiet laugh. "That''s a terrible deal."


    Mal smirked, tilting his head. "Is it?"


    Lucien leaned back, expression unreadable. "Seventy percent? You may have rare herbs, but that''s an absurd margin for a merchant partnership. The Deveroux Guild takes risks facilitating trade, ensuring supply lines, and securing transport routes. We have influence, connections, and reach far beyond a single kingdom. What you''re offering is, at best, an unbalanced agreement." His eyes glinted with amusement. "Or do you believe your herbs alone are worth that price?"


    Riven''s smirk was slow, deliberate. "I believe you''re making an assumption."


    Lucien arched a brow. "Oh?"


    "You think we''re offering you a one-time luxury product," Riven said, his voice like silk. "A rare, exclusive herb that would sell for a fortune¡ªbut only in limited supply."


    Lucien''s fingers drummed lightly against the table, waiting.


    Riven leaned forward slightly. "But what if I told you that what you saw at the auction was only the beginning?"


    Silence stretched between them.


    Lucien watched him carefully, expression unreadable. "Go on."


    Riven exhaled, slow and calculated. "We can provide a range of herbs¡ªmore than just Etherbloom, Bloodroot, Nightshade Marrow, or Void Thistle. We have access to high-grade medicinal plants unlike anything on the market. Some that enhance mana regeneration. Others that quicken physical recovery. Poisons that are undetectable. Antidotes that can counter afflictions no current alchemist can cure." His voice lowered slightly, the weight of his words deliberate. "A steady supply of premium, top-tier goods. The kind that will ensure your guild controls the highest-value trade across multiple kingdoms."


    Lucien''s fingers stopped tapping.


    Veylen, silent until now, let out a low whistle. "That''s a bold claim."


    Riven''s smile was steady, unwavering. "You saw the proof for yourself at the auction. Every herb we sold today speaks for itself."


    Lucien studied him for a long, heavy moment. Then, slowly, he exhaled through his nose, his gaze sharp. "You''re asking for a great deal of trust."


    Riven met Lucien''s gaze head-on, his expression unreadable beneath the shifting veil of shadow. "Trust?" His smirk was razor-sharp. "I''m offering certainty."


    Lucien leaned back in his chair, his fingers steepled as he studied Riven in silence. The weight of the room had shifted¡ªthe air thick with something unspoken, a careful balance of risk and opportunity.


    "You claim certainty," the Duke mused, his voice smooth, deliberate. "But certainty requires proof. A single auction, no matter how lucrative, is not proof of sustainability. I deal in long-term investments, not gambles."


    Mal let out a low chuckle, lounging back lazily. "Then let''s stop pretending, shall we? You wouldn''t have bid ten thousand gold if you thought we were a gamble."


    Lucien''s lips curled faintly, but he didn''t deny it.


    Riven took the opening. "You don''t need to trust me, Duke Deveroux. You only need to trust the results. I can guarantee a year''s worth of exclusive, high-tier supply¡ªconsistent, untampered, and unrivaled. No fluctuations, no missing shipments, no surprises. Your guild would hold a monopoly over the most potent medicinal goods on the market."


    Veylen exhaled, shaking his head in amusement. "You make it sound so easy."


    Riven''s voice was cool, certain. "That''s because it is. For you, at least. My people are the ones taking the risks, cultivating, refining, securing the supply. All you need to do is distribute."


    Lucien remained silent for a moment longer before finally speaking. "Seventy percent is too steep."


    Riven tilted his head. "No, it''s fair."


    Lucien arched a brow. "Is that so?"


    "We both know how this works," Riven continued smoothly. "It''s not about what''s fair¡ªit''s about what''s worth it." He gestured vaguely with one hand. "You think seventy percent is unreasonable because you''re comparing this deal to others. But you''ve never had a product like this. If you control the sole distribution of the rarest, most potent herbs in the continent, do you truly believe you won''t make more profit than any of your previous trades combined?"


    Lucien''s fingers drummed against the table again¡ªlight, thoughtful.


    Riven pressed on. "And let''s not forget what you gain in return. You don''t just get the product. You get an expansion of your own influence. If the Shadow Kingdom flourishes, your guild has first access to new resources, new trade routes, and¡ªmost importantly¡ªnew markets."


    A pause.


    Lucien tapped his finger against the table once. Twice. Then, with an exhale, he leaned forward slightly. "Let''s say I accept your terms." His voice was quiet, unreadable. "What guarantees do I have that you''ll uphold your end? You''re an unknown entity, operating from a kingdom that, until yesterday, was nothing more than a graveyard. You expect me to commit my resources, my reputation, my workforce, based on words alone?"


    Riven voice was steady. "I expect you to commit based on results."


    Lucien gave a small, measured smile. "Then give me something tangible."


    Riven nodded slightly. He had anticipated this.


    Slowly, he reached into his coat and withdrew a small, dark glass vial. Inside, a swirling, deep-violet liquid pulsed faintly with an eerie luminescence. sea??h th§× n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Lucien''s gaze sharpened.


    Riven held up the vial, tilting it just enough for the liquid inside to catch the dim candlelight. The thick, violet fluid shimmered unnaturally, shifting between deep indigo and an almost spectral silver, as if it refused to settle on a single form.


    Mal''s voice was quiet, reverent, as he watched the liquid swirl. "Ashen Sage is said to be a miracle," he murmured. "A herb capable of purging afflictions beyond the reach of any alchemist. Curses, toxins, even the lingering touch of death itself." He exhaled slowly. "But this? This isn''t purification." He hesitated, then met Riven''s gaze. "It doesn''t cleanse. It devours."


    Lucien Deveroux, ever composed, leaned forward slightly. "Devours?"


    Riven''s grip on the vial tightened. "Explain."


    Mal nodded, his silver eyes gleaming with something akin to unease. "Ashen Sage has always been rare¡ªimpossible to cultivate in the light. It requires absolute darkness, deep underground, in places where mana stagnates and decays. Most believed it was a myth because no one could control its growth." He tapped the glass lightly. "But this? This is beyond what was thought possible."


    He turned the vial slowly, watching the liquid react, as if sensing his words. "It doesn''t just neutralize poisons. It feeds on them. It doesn''t just remove curses¡ªit absorbs them." He exhaled. "If refined properly, it could be revolutionary¡ªcapable of extracting disease at its root, of erasing afflictions no healer has ever managed to cure."


    Mal let the weight of his words settle before adding, almost reluctantly, "But if misused¡­ it wouldn''t just cleanse the affliction. It would consume everything." He set the vial down carefully, his tone grim. "This could strip the very essence from a body. Not just life force, but mana itself. If pushed too far¡­ it could devour a person''s mana heart entirely."


    A cold silence followed.


    Lucien studied the vial with newfound intensity, his fingers drumming lightly against the polished wood of the table. "And how much of this do you have?"


    Riven let the silence stretch before answering, his voice smooth, assured.


    "Enough," he murmured, "to make sure the Deveroux Guild holds a power no one else can touch."


    Veylen''s brows rose. "You had this the whole time and didn''t put it up for auction?"


    Riven''s smirk widened. "We''re not fools, Veylen. The herbs we sold tonight were the invitation. This¡ª" He twirled the vial between his fingers, watching the liquid swirl. "¡ªis the leverage."


    Lucien''s expression didn''t change, but there was a new weight in his gaze. Interest. Calculation.


    The Duke of Trade had seen many deals in his lifetime.


    But this?


    This was different.


    After a long silence, Lucien exhaled through his nose and gave a single, slow nod.


    "Sixty percent," he countered smoothly. "And the workers you require will be supplied on a rolling basis. Builders, blacksmiths, artisans¡ªwe will integrate them discreetly to avoid drawing attention." His gaze flicked to Riven. "Final offer."


    Mal shot Riven a glance, but Riven had already decided.


    He extended his hand.


    Lucien clasped it.


    The deal was struck.


    ¡ªx¡ª


    As they stepped out of the negotiation chamber, the weight of the agreement settled over them.


    Mal let out a low whistle. "Well. That''s one way to tie the Deveroux Guild to us."


    Riven didn''t respond immediately. The night air was crisp as they exited the auction house, the streets of Eldrin''s Crossing alive with muted conversations and the distant clatter of carriages on cobblestone. The world carried on, unaware that a trade agreement had just been forged that would shift the balance of power.


    Mal tucked his hands into his coat pockets, his silver eyes flicking toward Riven. "What''s next?" he asked, his voice tinged with anticipation.


    Riven''s gaze flickered with amusement beneath the veil of shadows still obscuring his face. "Now?" His tone was light, but the weight of certainty lay beneath it. "Now, we see if the Deveroux Guild can keep up."


    Mal let out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. "Sixty percent. You really made him think he was negotiating."


    Riven''s smirk was subtle. "Lucien Deveroux doesn''t take bad deals. He takes the ones that give him the illusion of control." He paused, watching the flickering glow of the streetlamps reflecting off the damp cobblestones. "We gave him what he needed¡ªsomething no other guild can claim. He''ll play along because he knows what''s at stake."


    Mal tilted his head, considering. "And what if he tries to take more?"


    Riven''s smirk darkened. "Then he learns why the Shadow Kingdom was feared."


    A breeze stirred through the streets, carrying with it the distant scent of burning cedar and lantern oil. The city was alive, but for the first time in a long while, Riven felt something deeper moving beneath the surface¡ªmomentum. The first piece of a much larger game had been set.


    They turned a corner, slipping into the quieter district where their temporary residence was housed. The guards stationed outside straightened at their approach, giving curt nods before stepping aside. The building was modest by noble standards, but well-secured¡ªhigh walls, reinforced windows, and a discreet escape route built into the structure. It was functional, not ostentatious.


    Inside, the flickering glow of candlelight greeted them, casting long shadows against the stone walls. Mal sank into a chair, stretching out with a sigh. "So, do we drink to celebrate or plot our next move?"


    Riven moved toward the table, pouring himself a glass of dark wine. He swirled it idly before answering. "Both."


    Mal grinned, reaching for his own glass. "I like the way you think."


    Riven leaned against the table, expression contemplative. "The Deveroux Guild will move quickly, but we can''t afford to sit idle while we wait for them to send workers. The moment they realize just how much leverage we have, they''ll look for ways to shift the balance in their favor."


    Mal took a sip of his drink, eyes half-lidded with amusement. "You expecting sabotage?"


    "I expect strategy," Riven corrected smoothly. "Lucien will honor the deal¡ªfor now. But once the first shipments start moving and the profits roll in, he''ll start testing the waters. He''ll look for weaknesses. Ways to renegotiate."


    Mal hummed. "And if he finds any?"


    "He won''t," Riven said simply. "Because we won''t give him any."


    Silence settled between them, broken only by the quiet crackle of the fireplace. The weight of the night, of what they had just set into motion, settled over them.


    Mal let out a breath, rolling his shoulders. "Alright. So what''s the next move?"


    Riven''s gaze was steady. "We return to the Shadow Kingdom."


    Mal arched a brow. "Already?"


    "We don''t have the luxury of time," Riven said. "The Deveroux Guild will send the first wave of workers within the next few weeks. We need to prepare the infrastructure before they arrive. Clear the ruins. Secure the borders. Strengthen our defenses."


    Mal exhaled, shaking his head. "You really don''t stop, do you?"


    Riven smirked. "Would you, if you were me?"


    Mal snorted. "Not a chance."


    Riven finished his drink, setting the glass down with finality. "Then let''s not waste time."


    Mal sighed, but there was no real protest in his tone as he stood. "Fine. But at least let me enjoy the comfort of a real bed before we head back."


    Riven chuckled, the rare sound low and knowing. "Enjoy it while you can."

 Chapter 79 - 79: Returning Home

    By the time the sun rose over Eldrin''s Crossing, the gold from the auction had been collected and secured. The profits from the Mystic Flora sale had exceeded even their expectations, filling several heavy chests now locked within their temporary residence. Every bid, every frantic offer, had cemented the value of their wares.


    Mal let out a low whistle as he ran a gloved hand over the neatly stacked coinage. "Thats a lot of gold," he mused, his silver eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "And this is just the beginning."


    Riven leaned against the table, idly rolling a gold coin between his fingers. "Enough to set the foundation for what we need," he murmured. "The next step is reinvesting this gold where it matters."


    Mal stretched as he leaned back into his chair. "Materials, then?"


    Riven nodded. "We need enough lumber, stone, and iron to reinforce the main structures at the encampment. We''ll start with the essentials¡ª a simple market place for the merchants that will come, an proper infirmary and more housing. Once the first wave of workers arrive, we''ll expand further."


    Mal whistled again. "That''s going to be a hell of a logistics nightmare."


    Riven smirked. "Then it''s a good thing we know how to make nightmares work in our favor."


    Within hours, the necessary orders had been placed. Several merchant houses¡ªthose not affiliated with the Deveroux Guild¡ªwere more than willing to accept high-value contracts in exchange for discretion. Massive shipments of timber, quarried stone, and metalwork were set to depart in the coming days, their routes carefully planned to avoid suspicion.


    Mal oversaw the final arrangements, ensuring that every caravan bore no insignia and no records tied them to the Shadow Kingdom.


    By midday, everything was set.


    Riven stood at the edge of the town, his gaze fixed on the distant road leading back into the wastes. The weight of the past few days lingered, heavy yet exhilarating.


    But for now, it was time to go back home.


    ¡ªx¡ª


    As the towering apartment block loomed into sight, Riven exhaled in quiet relief.


    Their carts pulled closer to the encampment, the steady creak of wheels echoing against the worn stone. Eyes turned toward them, voices murmuring as recognition spread. A crowd gathered, anticipation thick in the air. At the forefront, Riven''s generals stood waiting, their expressions sharp with expectation.


    The moment Riven stepped off the cart, the weight of the journey lifted from his shoulders. The encampment buzzed with activity¡ªworkers hauling stone for new structures, warriors training in the open courtyard, and the ever-growing farmland stretching further than before.


    It was a sight he had longed to return to.


    Mal dismounted beside him, rolling his shoulders with a sigh. "Feels different already," he muttered, eyes scanning the surroundings.


    Riven nodded. The encampment was no longer just a gathering of survivors¡ªit was becoming a small city. The apartment complex stood proudly against the barren landscape, its construction a testament to their progress. The fortified storerooms near the fields were now filled with crops and medicinal herbs, a lifeline for the people who had once struggled to survive.


    Krux was the first to approach, his golden eyes sharp with recognition as he stepped forward. "You made good time," he said, eyeing the loaded carts behind them. "And judging by the weight of those chests, I take it the auction went well."


    Mal smirked, slapping a hand against one of the heavy wooden chests filled with gold. "Well enough that we''ll need to start counting in thousands instead of hundreds."


    A ripple of murmurs spread through the gathered crowd, warriors and workers alike exchanging glances. The idea of such wealth, after years of scraping by, was nearly unfathomable.


    Riven exhaled, his gaze sweeping over his people. They had endured hardship, loss, and the slow, grueling process of rebuilding. But now? Now they had momentum. And momentum meant power.


    Aria stepped forward, arms crossed, her silver eyes searching his. "What''s the next step?"


    Riven glanced toward the fortified buildings in the distance¡ªthe storerooms, the half-finished market square, the blueprint for a kingdom still in its infancy.


    "We expand," he said simply.


    The crowd around them quieted, listening.


    "The Deveroux Guild has accepted our terms," Riven continued. "Within weeks, they''ll begin sending workers¡ªartisans, builders, blacksmiths. People we need to accelerate our growth." His gaze burned as he surveyed his gathered people. "But we cannot afford to be complacent. Before they arrive, we must be ready. That means fortifying our borders, securing the trade routes, and ensuring we are prepared for what comes next."


    Damon cracked his knuckles, grinning. "About time we got to the fun part."


    Nyx raised a brow. "The fun part being what, exactly? Lifting heavy things? Swinging hammers?"


    Damon scoffed. "No, the fun part is preparing for the inevitable betrayal."


    Mal sighed, rubbing his temples. "You really know how to ruin a good mood, don''t you?"


    Damon shrugged. "I''m a realist."


    Riven smirked but didn''t deny it. "He''s not wrong. The Deveroux Guild will play nice for now, but they''ll start pushing boundaries soon enough. We need to make sure that when they do, we control the terms."


    Krux folded his arms, nodding. "And how do we do that?"


    "By making sure they need us more than we need them," Riven said. "The herbs we sold at the auction were just the beginning. Our next harvest must be even stronger¡ªenough to make the guild dependent on our supply."


    Mal perked up at that. "I''ve been meaning to talk to you about that," he said, voice laced with intrigue. "The latest batch of Void Thistle and Bloodroot are mutating faster than anticipated. The abyssal energy in the soil is shifting them, enhancing their properties in ways I can''t fully predict yet."


    Riven arched a brow. "Good or bad?"


    Mal exhaled, running a hand through his hair. "Potentially both. The Void Thistle, in particular, is becoming something entirely different. It''s more than just an amplifier now. It''s absorbing ambient mana at an alarming rate."


    That caught Riven''s attention. "Absorbing mana?"


    Mal nodded. "If it continues, we might be looking at the first naturally grown mana-draining plant in existence."


    The group fell silent.


    That was a game changer.


    Nyx let out a low whistle. "You realize what that means, don''t you? If we cultivate it properly, we could create potions capable of draining magic itself."


    Riven''s mind whirred with possibilities. "Weapons," he murmured. "A countermeasure against enemy mages."


    Aria''s eyes darkened with understanding. "A resource that every kingdom would kill to control." Sear?h the N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Krux frowned. "And one that would make us an even bigger target."


    Riven nodded. "Exactly. Which is why we need to keep this quiet for now. No one outside the Shadow Kingdom can know about this¡ªnot even the Deveroux Guild."


    Mal smirked. "Good. Because I wasn''t planning on sharing."


    Damon sighed. "So, while you alchemy nerds play with your magic plants, what do the rest of us do?"


    Riven turned to him. "You and Krux will oversee the reinforcement of the encampment. The main road needs to be expanded, and the walls surrounding our settlement must be fortified. We can''t allow any weak points once outsiders start arriving."


    Krux nodded. "I''ll gather the stonemasons."


    Damon cracked his knuckles. "And I''ll make sure everything holds."


    "Nyx," Riven continued, "we need intelligence. I want updates on all merchant activity in Eldrin''s Crossing, any movement from Solis, and any shifts in the Deveroux Guild''s inner circle. If anyone starts asking too many questions about us, I want to know."


    Nyx smirked. "Consider it handled."


    Finally, Riven turned to Aria. "Scout the surrounding ruins. We need to know what''s still buried beneath this kingdom. There may be resources¡ªold forges, tunnels, caches¡ªthat we can reclaim."


    Aria inclined her head. "I''ll take a team and start immediately."


    The orders were given, the path set.


    Riven turned to face his people once more, his voice steady and clear as it carried over the gathered crowd.


    "There''s one more thing," he said. "Up until now, we have survived on necessity alone. We have built with our own hands, fought for every scrap of land, every stone laid in this encampment. But if we are to truly rebuild, if we are to become more than just survivors, we must restore more than just walls and fields."


    A hush fell over the crowd, anticipation thick in the air.


    "We must restore prosperity."


    Murmurs rippled through the gathered people, uncertain yet intrigued.


    Riven raised the gold coin he had been rolling between his fingers. "This is more than just a symbol of wealth¡ªit is the foundation of stability. And starting today, it will begin flowing again within the Shadow Kingdom."


    He let the words sink in before continuing. "From now on, those who work to rebuild this kingdom will be paid for their labor. Farmers, builders, smiths, scouts, hunters¡ªevery hand that contributes to our future will be rewarded."


    A stunned silence met his words.


    Then, an eruption of voices.


    People exchanged glances, the weight of the announcement settling in. For years, they had worked simply to survive, to carve out a meager existence in the wasteland. The idea of being compensated for their efforts was almost foreign.


    Riven waited for the initial shock to settle before raising a hand for silence. "I know this is new. I know many of you worked without expecting anything in return because we had nothing to give. But that ends now. The gold we''ve secured will serve as the foundation of our new economy."


    He turned slightly, gesturing toward the apartment complex. "Anyone looking for paid work is to report in front of the apartment building at dawn tomorrow. Roles will be assigned based on skill, and wages will be distributed weekly."


    A different kind of energy surged through the crowd now¡ªone of excitement, of renewed purpose. Those who had once resigned themselves to hardship now saw something more on the horizon.


    A future worth building.


    Damon let out a low whistle. "Well, that''s one way to get people moving."


    Mal smirked. "And a damn good way to make sure people stay invested."


    Nyx crossed her arms, nodding approvingly. "A structured workforce means organized growth. This will make things much easier."


    Krux, ever practical, grinned. "And it''ll light a fire under the ones who''ve been slacking."


    Riven ignored the scattered chuckles and focused on the crowd, watching as the realization spread. People who had once seen themselves as little more than survivors were now seeing the first glimpse of something greater.


    An economy.


    A system.


    A kingdom.


    He exhaled, his gaze sweeping over the faces before him. "This is only the beginning. We will rebuild, not as beggars clinging to the past, but as a force to be reckoned with."


    The murmurs grew, some voices rising in agreement, others still caught in awe.


    The crowd stirred, excitement threading through the uncertainty. He knew this change would not be immediate. Many would struggle with the concept, some would resist, and others would take advantage. But that was expected.


    This was only the foundation.


    "Dismissed," Riven finished, stepping back.


    Slowly, the gathered crowd began to disperse, voices hushed yet eager, the promise of change lingering in the air. Some exchanged excited whispers, others merely nodded to themselves, already contemplating what role they might take in this new order.


    Aria lingered by his side, watching the departing people with a thoughtful expression. "You''ve given them something to strive for," she murmured. "Something beyond survival."


    Riven exhaled. "It''s about time."


    Mal let out a short laugh, tucking his hands into his coat pockets. "You just turned an entire encampment of outcasts and refugees into employees. I don''t know whether to be impressed or terrified."


    Damon crossed his arms, smirking. "Definitely a little terrifying."


    Krux nodded in agreement. "They''ll need time to adjust, but¡­ this changes everything."


    Aria folded her arms. "And if someone tries to hoard gold? Stockpile wages? Corrupt the system before it''s even in place?"


    "They''ll find out quickly that greed will not be tolerated," Riven said smoothly. "We are rebuilding something greater than just a city. There will be laws, structure, accountability. And if someone believes they can take more than their fair share at the expense of others¡­"


    His voice dropped, a quiet promise laced in steel.


    "They will answer to me."


    A slow, satisfied smirk spread across Aria''s lips. "Good."


    Damon cracked his knuckles. "I like this new Shadow Kingdom."


    Nyx smirked. "Me too. Makes my job more interesting."


    Riven turned, surveying the encampment¡ªthe soon-to-be capital of the Shadow Kingdom. Fires burned low in the hearths, casting flickering shadows against the stone walls of their first buildings. The roads, still rough, would soon be paved. The market, now just an open square of trampled dirt, would soon house stalls and merchants. The fields, already thriving beyond expectation, would continue to flourish.


    This was the turning point.


    The world had ignored the Shadow Kingdom for years, believing it to be dead.


    But now, gold would flow.


    People would have purpose.


    And when the world finally turned its gaze toward them, they would not see ruins.


    They would see a kingdom rising from the abyss.

 Chapter 80 - 80: Trade Begins

    Two weeks had passed since the Shadow Kingdom had begun paying its people, and the transformation had been undeniable.


    Where once there had been a scattered encampment of survivors, there was now the foundation of a thriving settlement. The wages had increased productivity tenfold¡ªwhere before people had worked out of necessity, now they worked with purpose. The result was staggering.


    The third apartment complex had been completed, standing taller than the rest at five stories high, large enough to house entire families, skilled workers, and incoming recruits. It was the largest structure in the settlement, its stone walls reinforced with iron beams, making it a symbol of stability amid the once-ruined wastelands.


    The market square had also taken shape. What had once been an empty patch of barren land was now structured into neatly arranged stalls and pathways, built with timber and stone. The layout was simple yet effective¡ªwider paths for carts, designated spaces for food vendors, alchemists, blacksmiths, and merchants. Even before official traders had arrived, the locals had begun setting up their own booths, selling goods among themselves.


    But perhaps the most critical achievement was the farmlands.


    Riven had expanded the abyss-touched fields to twice their original size, further strengthening the Shadow Kingdom''s food supply and medicinal herb production. Rows of crops stretched out in perfect formation, Nightshade Marrow, Etherbloom, Bloodroot, and Void Thistle flourishing faster than ever. Their unnatural growth cycles, enhanced by the abyssal soil, ensured that the next shipments of herbs would be even more valuable than the first.


    And today, all of it would be put to the test.


    Today, the first wave of workers and merchants sent by the Deveroux Guild were set to arrive.


    And with them, the first formal shipment of herbs that would be distributed through their trade network.


    Riven stood at the edge of the encampment, staring down the dirt road leading toward Eldrin''s Crossing. The sun hung low in the sky, casting warm autumn light over the land, the crisp breeze carrying the scent of tilled earth and woodsmoke.


    Beside him, Mal adjusted his coat, his eyes gleaming with anticipation. "You think they''ll be on time?" he asked, running a hand through his pale hair.


    "They will," Riven replied, his gaze locked on the horizon. "Lucien doesn''t waste time."


    Krux let out a low grunt. "It''s still strange seeing outsiders coming to us instead of the other way around."


    Nyx smirked. "Get used to it. Won''t be long before they''re begging to set up shop here."


    Damon cracked his knuckles. "And if they get too comfortable?"


    Riven''s expression was unreadable. "Then we remind them whose kingdom this is."


    The group fell silent as the first dust cloud appeared in the distance¡ªa sign of approaching wagons.


    Moments later, the first caravan rolled into sight.


    A long procession of wagons, at least a dozen in total, escorted by Deveroux Guild guards. The banner of the Deveroux Guild fluttered from the lead cart, its sigil¡ªa golden key entwined with a serpent¡ªsignaling their affiliation.


    And at the front of the procession rode Veylen Deveroux.


    Mal clicked his tongue. "Of course he''d show up in person."


    Riven smirked. "Expected nothing less."


    As the caravan neared, the workers and warriors of the Shadow Kingdom began to gather, drawn by curiosity. Whispers rippled through the crowd as the first merchant wagons entered the settlement, their occupants glancing around at the newly built structures with cautious intrigue.


    Veylen dismounted, smoothing out the fine silk of his coat before striding toward Riven with a knowing smile. "I must say, I didn''t expect to find an entire city waiting for us."


    Riven''s gaze was steady. "You should know by now¡ªwe don''t waste time."


    Veylen chuckled, glancing toward the towering apartment complex and the bustling workers in the market square. "Clearly." His gaze shifted back to Riven, sharp with something unreadable. "Lucien will be very interested in hearing about this."


    "I''m sure he will," Riven replied coolly. "But first, let''s discuss what you brought us."


    Veylen gestured toward the wagons behind him. "Fifty skilled workers, per our arrangement¡ªblacksmiths, masons, carpenters, tailors. They''ve been instructed to work under your leadership." He smirked slightly. "Though, I imagine you won''t tolerate incompetence."


    Riven didn''t return the smirk. "You imagine correctly."


    Veylen''s eyes gleamed. "Good. Along with them, we''ve brought supplies¡ªiron, timber, mortar. Enough to continue your expansion."


    Mal crossed his arms. "And the merchants?"


    Veylen tilted his head toward the second half of the caravan, where a group of guild-affiliated traders had begun unloading their cargo. "These are the first wave of merchants who will be handling the sale of your herbs. Handpicked by the Deveroux Guild to ensure¡­ quality control."


    Nyx hummed. "Meaning they''ll report everything back to Lucien."


    "Of course." Veylen didn''t bother denying it. "This is a partnership, after all."


    Riven didn''t react. He had expected nothing less.


    He turned toward the storage buildings where the first shipment of herbs was waiting to be loaded onto the outbound carts.


    Mal had overseen the final preparations himself¡ªeach crate was sealed, reinforced with mana sigils, and sorted by category. Etherbloom, Nightshade Marrow, Bloodroot, Void Thistle¡ªeach batch meticulously prepared to ensure peak quality.


    Riven gestured to the workers nearby. "Load the first shipment onto the merchant wagons."


    Immediately, the workers moved into action, hoisting the sealed crates onto the traders'' carts under the watchful eyes of both Shadow Kingdom guards and Deveroux Guild representatives.


    Veylen watched with mild amusement. "You seem confident."


    Riven arched a brow. "Shouldn''t I be?"


    Veylen chuckled. "Confident enough to let us take the first shipment without an escort?"


    Riven''s voice was smooth. "This shipment is a test. If it reaches its destination without issue, we''ll continue sending them as planned." His gaze darkened. "But if anything happens¡ªif even one crate goes missing¡ªthen the next shipment doesn''t leave the Shadow Kingdom. And you can explain that to Lucien."


    Veylen held his gaze for a moment before letting out a soft laugh. "Understood."


    Mal smirked. "Smart man."


    ¡ªx¡ª


    The sun had barely risen when the first merchant stalls were set up.


    The newly built market square¡ªonce just an empty space¡ªhad been assigned to the first wave of merchants.


    The Deveroux-affiliated traders, eager to stake their claim on the new market, wasted no time. They arranged their wares with calculated efficiency¡ªpouches of dried herbs, bottles of refined extracts, and alchemical supplies, all prominently displayed.


    It didn''t take long for the local populace to gather.


    The people of the Shadow Kingdom, many of whom had never seen a structured trade system in action, cautiously approached the stalls. Some came to browse, others merely to observe. There was hesitation at first¡ªa sense of disbelief that this was real¡ªbut as the morning passed, curiosity gave way to participation.


    By midday, the market was thriving.


    Riven watched from the raised steps of the third apartment building, arms crossed as he observed the flow of commerce below. Food stalls were already in place, selling fresh bread, roasted meats, and herbal tonics crafted from their abyssal crops. A handful of blacksmiths and leatherworkers had set up along the outer ring, offering tools, simple weapons, and armor repairs.


    The economy, once nonexistent, had taken its first breath.


    Mal stood beside him, sipping from a flask. "You seeing this?" he muttered, gesturing toward the square with his free hand. "It''s working."


    Riven nodded. "Faster than expected."


    "They''re still feeling it out," Mal mused. "Give it a few weeks, and we''ll have people coming from outside the kingdom just to trade here."


    Riven smirked. "That''s the plan."


    The Deveroux Guild had expected them to be dependent on their trade network. But if the Shadow Kingdom''s own economy grew strong enough, they would attract outside merchants on their own.


    Which meant control over their market would remain in their hands.


    Nyx approached then, her expression smug as she glanced between them. "You two look pleased."


    Mal raised an eyebrow. "You aren''t?"


    "Oh, I am," she admitted, folding her arms. "Word spreads fast, you know. The merchants that came today? By next week, there will be more. They''ll tell others about the coin to be made here. And soon, traders not affiliated with the Deveroux Guild will start showing up."


    Riven exhaled, considering. "Good. But we need to control how this grows."


    Nyx nodded. "Which is why I assume you''re about to tell me to find someone to oversee the market."


    Riven smirked. "You''re catching on."


    Nyx rolled her eyes but didn''t argue. "You want someone from the locals, or an outsider?"


    "Someone from within," Riven said. "A merchant would be ideal, but anyone with a sharp mind for trade will do. We need stability. Someone who can enforce fair pricing, prevent market manipulation, and make sure stall owners don''t start extorting the people."


    Nyx let out a low whistle. "So, you want someone ruthless, but not greedy."


    "Exactly."


    Mal chuckled. "That''s a rare breed."


    Riven''s gaze remained steady. "Find them."


    Nyx stretched, cracking her knuckles. "I''ll start interviews tomorrow. Should have a list of candidates by the end of the week."


    Riven nodded in approval. "Good."


    As Nyx walked away to begin preparations for the market overseer interviews, Riven turned his gaze toward another critical matter¡ªsecurity. The Shadow Kingdom was growing rapidly, and with that growth came risk. More people meant more moving parts, more potential for internal disputes, and¡ªmost importantly¡ªmore threats from the outside.


    He needed a dedicated force. One that could defend the Shadow Kingdom not just from invaders, but also from the political and economic maneuvering that would inevitably come.


    A standing army wasn''t enough.


    What he needed were warriors who embodied the very nature of the kingdom: resilient, disciplined, and dangerous.


    Shadow Knights.


    The thought formed in his mind as naturally as if it had always been there. A force trained not just in combat, but in the balance of strength and strategy. A unit that could wield both blade and magic, standing as the guardians of the rising kingdom.


    Riven turned to Krux, who had been watching the market square with his usual quiet intensity.


    "We''re building a barracks," Riven said.


    Krux turned to him, brow arching slightly. "Now?"


    Riven nodded. "Construction begins immediately. I want it stationed near the central square, where it can oversee both the roads and the market. Somewhere visible¡ªso people remember that we protect what we build."


    Krux exhaled through his nose, already assessing the logistics. "It''ll take manpower. Materials."


    "We have both." Riven gestured toward the newly arrived Deveroux workers. "Put the masons and carpenters to work. Use reinforced stone and wood from our supplies. This isn''t just a training ground¡ªit''s a symbol."


    Krux nodded once. "And the force itself?"


    "We begin recruitment tonight," Riven said. "Those with mana hearts, anyone trained in magic, or those willing to learn¡ªcall for volunteers. But this isn''t open to just anyone. They have to prove themselves."


    Krux''s expression sharpened. "What are you looking for?"


    Riven turned, scanning the settlement. "Loyalty first," he said. "Strength second. Anyone can be trained, but not everyone can be trusted."


    Krux folded his arms. "You''re talking about an elite force."


    "Not just elite," Riven corrected. "Foundational. This will be the first standing force of the new Shadow Kingdom. The first of the Shadow Knights."


    Krux''s lips curled slightly, the ghost of a smile. "I like the name."


    "So do I," Riven murmured.


    Krux cracked his knuckles. "I''ll set up the trials. You''ll want them combat-tested, I assume?"


    "Combat-tested," Riven agreed. "And mana-disciplined. If we''re training magic-wielding warriors, they need control as much as power. We can''t afford reckless spellcasters."


    Krux''s golden eyes gleamed with something akin to satisfaction. "Then we do this right."


    Riven nodded, knowing Krux was the best man for the job. He had been a warrior before the fall, and his discipline and tactics had kept many of them alive. Now, he would shape the next generation of soldiers.


    "I''ll make the announcement before sundown," Riven said. "Gather those who want to fight for something more than survival."


    Krux gave a firm nod and left to make the preparations.


    Mal, who had remained quiet through the exchange, exhaled in amusement. "Shadow Knights, huh?" He tilted his head, watching Krux depart. "You really don''t waste time."


    Riven smirked. "I never do."


    Mal grinned. "Well, if you need a necromancer division, let me know."


    Riven chuckled, shaking his head. "One war force at a time, Mal."


    Mal tapped his chin. "Still, you''re right to move quickly. The Deveroux Guild is watching, and once word spreads that we have a trained force, they''ll start wondering just how powerful we''re planning to become."


    Riven''s expression darkened slightly. "Let them wonder."


    Mal hummed, eyes gleaming. "This kingdom really is rising."


    Riven turned back to the settlement, watching as workers moved, traders bartered, and warriors sharpened their blades. S~ea??h the N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Yes.


    And this was only the beginning.

 Chapter 81 - 81: Seraphis

    The training grounds had been repurposed. What was once a barren stretch of packed dirt at the edge of the settlement had been transformed into a makeshift training arena. Stone pillars lined the perimeter, casting jagged shadows over the worn ground where warriors gathered. The air crackled with anticipation, the scent of sweat and abyssal energy thickening as the recruits waited.


    Today, the first trial for the Shadow Knights would begin.


    Krux stood at the head of the gathering, his towering figure clad in dark armor, his golden eyes scanning the assembled warriors with a look of silent judgment. Next to him, Nyx leaned against a stone post, her arms crossed, expression unreadable.


    And at the center, Riven sat on a raised stone platform, one leg crossed over the other, watching.


    The recruits before him weren''t just ordinary soldiers. Each of them carried something unique¡ªa Mana Heart, the ability to wield magic. Some were seasoned fighters, while others were untested but filled with raw potential.


    This wasn''t just about recruiting soldiers.


    This was about forging something greater.


    The Shadow Knights would not be a typical military force. They would be the elite, trained to fight alongside him¡ªmage warriors that could channel both abyssal energy and combat prowess. And today would determine who was worthy.


    Riven rose to his feet, his gaze sweeping over the recruits. His voice carried effortlessly, cutting through the murmurs.


    "You stand here because you believe you have what it takes to become more than just warriors," he began. "This is not a simple recruitment. This is a test. A trial."


    His abyssal flames flickered to life at his fingertips, twisting in the air like hungry serpents.


    "There will be no second chances." His voice was calm but sharp as a blade. "If you cannot hold your own, if you cannot push beyond your limits, leave now."


    Silence.


    No one moved.


    Krux smirked. "Good." He cracked his knuckles, stepping forward. "Then let''s begin. We will test your endurance, your mana control, your ability to fight as one." His golden eyes gleamed. "But first, we will test your will."


    A sharp pulse of mana flared from his body, pressing down on the recruits like an invisible weight. Some staggered under the pressure, while others clenched their fists, forcing themselves to remain standing.


    Nyx let out a quiet hum, amused. "At least we don''t have complete cowards."


    Krux scoffed but said nothing.


    Riven exhaled. "Enough. We''ll see what they''re truly made of in combat."


    His gaze flicked toward the gathered warriors. "Who will be first?"


    A murmur rippled through the group. Some hesitated. Others glanced at each other, unsure.


    Then, one stepped forward.


    A young man, no older than twenty, his frame lean but coiled with wiry strength. His eyes burned with determination, though uncertainty lingered at the edges. He carried two short daggers, their hilts worn but well-maintained.


    "I will," he declared.


    Riven tilted his head, studying him. "Name?"


    "Robert."


    Riven smirked. "Very well, Robert. You have the honor of being the first to fight me."


    The recruits stiffened. Some took a step back.


    Krux arched a brow. "You''re fighting them yourself?"


    Riven flexed his fingers, his abyssal energy crackling through the air. "Who else would test them?"


    A ripple of unease passed through the gathered recruits. They had heard of their kings power¡ªhad seen what he was capable of from a distance. But to fight him directly? That was another matter entirely.


    Robert swallowed but didn''t back down. He adjusted his stance, daggers raised. "I''m ready."


    "Good."


    Riven stepped forward. Shadows curled around his feet. The training ground grew colder, the air thick with unseen pressure.


    "Begin."


    Robert moved first.


    He was fast. His movements were fluid, darting forward with expert footwork, his daggers flashing. A normal opponent wouldn''t have been able to react in time.


    But Riven was not a normal opponent.


    He sidestepped with ease, his movements smooth as flowing water. Robert''s daggers barely missed his ribs, slicing through air instead of flesh.


    Riven countered.


    His fist snapped out like a viper, striking toward Robert''s exposed ribs. The young warrior twisted mid-air, barely avoiding the impact, but the sheer force sent him skidding across the dirt.


    He coughed, already panting.


    Riven exhaled, watching him struggle back to his feet. "You hesitate."


    Robert clenched his jaw. Then¡ªwithout warning¡ªhe vanished.


    A flicker of movement. A surge of mana.


    The crowd gasped as Robert reappeared behind Riven, daggers poised to strike.


    But Riven was already gone.


    He dodged to the side, and before Robert could react, Riven''s foot swept under him, knocking his legs out from beneath him.


    Robert crashed to the ground. Hard.


    Riven loomed over him, eyes unreadable. "Speed means nothing if you can''t predict your enemy."


    Robert grit his teeth, pushing himself up. Blood dripped from his split lip, but he didn''t surrender.


    Instead¡ªhe lunged again.


    Riven allowed it.


    A dagger scraped past his arm, slicing through fabric but missing flesh. He felt the mana surge around the weapon¡ªRobert had imbued it with energy.


    Better.


    But still not enough.


    Riven caught the next strike mid-air, gripping Robert''s wrist in an unbreakable hold. He twisted sharply, forcing the younger warrior to his knees.


    Robert gasped in pain, his daggers clattering to the ground.


    Silence filled the training grounds.


    Riven''s abyssal energy flared¡ªthen, just as quickly, vanished. He released Robert''s wrist, allowing the young warrior to slump forward, panting.


    "Not bad," Riven mused. "You have talent. But you lack control."


    Robert pressed a fist against the dirt, struggling to rise. His breath was ragged, but his eyes burned with determination. "I¡­ can learn."


    Riven studied him for a moment¡ªthen nodded. "Then do so."


    He turned back to the recruits. "Next."


    One by one, more warriors stepped forward, each facing Riven in a test of strength, speed, and skill. Some lasted longer than others. Some fell instantly.


    The tests continued, each recruit stepping forward, determined to prove themselves against their king. Some wielded magic, others raw physical skill. Riven dispatched them all with ease. Not because they were weak, but because he was simply too far beyond them. Still, he watched closely, assessing not just power, but potential.


    Krux observed from the sidelines, arms crossed, his golden eyes gleaming with approval. "They''re stronger than I expected," he murmured. "Some of them, at least."


    Nyx nodded, her gaze fixed on the next duel. "A few might even survive a real battle."


    Riven smirked at her comment but didn''t respond. Instead, he adjusted his stance, preparing for the next challenger. Then¡ª


    Something shifted in his shadow.


    A subtle pull, almost like a ripple in still water. A weight that hadn''t been there before.


    Riven frowned slightly, keeping his expression neutral as he dodged an incoming strike from his opponent. But he felt it again¡ªthis pressure. A slow, dragging sensation, like something trying to emerge from the darkness beneath him.


    He exhaled, finishing the fight with a swift counter, sending the recruit tumbling backward into the dirt. The warriors watching murmured among themselves, awed by how effortlessly he subdued each challenger. But Riven''s focus had already shifted elsewhere.


    He turned his attention inward, into the depths of his shadow.


    Something was¡­ stirring.


    And then it hit him.


    Seraphis.


    The Divine Serpent Beast he had subjugated in the jungle.


    Riven had almost forgotten about it.


    Since bringing it back as an undead, Seraphis had remained dormant, its immense presence tucked away in his shadow, seemingly content to rest. It hadn''t made a single move¡ªuntil now.


    Why now?


    Riven''s fingers flexed, his abyssal energy stirring in response. His shadow felt heavier, denser than before. Almost¡­ strained.


    "Krux," he said suddenly.


    Krux straightened, immediately attentive. "Yes, my liege?"


    Riven rolled his shoulders, exhaling through his nose. "Take over for a moment."


    The general''s brows rose slightly, but he didn''t question the order. "Of course." He turned toward the recruits. "Line up! We continue."


    Riven stepped back from the training grounds, walking toward the edge of the field, away from prying eyes. He could feel Seraphis pressing against the barriers of his shadow, like something coiled and waiting, its presence shifting, demanding recognition.


    Once he was out of sight from the recruits, he stopped, closing his eyes.


    His breath steadied.


    Then, in a single moment, he let go.


    Shadows burst outward from beneath him, writhing like living tendrils as his mana surged, no longer holding Seraphis back.


    The ground trembled.


    A ripple of darkness spread outward as a massive form began to rise from the void¡ªlong, serpentine, its pearl-white scales reflecting the dim light as it coiled into existence. The air grew thick with an overwhelming pressure, a suffocating mix of abyssal and divine energy intertwining into something that made the very atmosphere shudder.


    Then¡ªgolden eyes flickered open.


    Seraphis was awake.


    Riven lifted his gaze, meeting those gleaming, slitted pupils. For a long moment, neither of them moved.


    "¡­You finally decided to wake up," Riven murmured.


    The great serpent''s head lowered slightly, its massive body shifting, coiling lazily, its forked tongue flickering out as if tasting the air. The mana in the area swirled violently, drawn instinctively toward the divine beast.


    Seraphis''s voice slithered into Riven''s mind, deep and measured.


    "You¡­ left me to sleep for far too long, master."


    A flicker of amusement crossed Riven''s features. "You weren''t exactly making your presence known."


    Seraphis exhaled, a slow, almost rumbling sound.


    "Because I was watching."


    Riven''s abyss-blue eyes narrowed slightly. "Watching?"


    The serpent''s gaze glowed, its golden depths reflecting something ancient, unreadable.


    "You are unlike any master I have had before."


    Riven arched a brow. "Is that so?"


    Seraphis''s coils shifted, its form moving with an eerie, almost fluid grace. "You are a ruler, but you do not command for the sake of domination alone. You do not hoard power for the sake of greed."


    Its golden eyes narrowed. "You are building something greater."


    Riven exhaled slowly. "And what of it?"


    The serpent tilted its massive head, studying him. "It intrigues me."


    For a moment, silence stretched between them. The weight of Seraphis''s presence pressed against the air, heavy but not hostile.


    Then, the divine serpent lowered its head further¡ªuntil its massive form was nearly level with Riven''s own.


    "I wish to see more."


    Riven held its gaze, considering. He hadn''t called Seraphis out, yet the beast had awakened on its own, sensing something within him¡ªwithin the kingdom he was building.


    A slow smirk curled at the edge of Riven''s lips.


    "Then stay awake," he murmured.


    Seraphis let out a slow, deliberate hiss. "As you command, my king."


    Riven studied the massive serpent for a long moment before exhaling. "But if you''re going to be moving around in the open, you''ll need to make yourself¡­ less noticeable."


    Seraphis tilted her head, golden eyes narrowing slightly. "You wish for me to diminish my form?"


    "I''d rather not have my people panicking over a divine serpent slithering through their streets." His lips twitched. "Make yourself smaller."


    Seraphis''s forked tongue flickered out, as if contemplating the request. "Very well."


    A pulse of mana rippled through the air.


    Her shimmering pearl-white scales darkened slightly, losing some of their luminescence. Her enormous, tree-trunk-thick coils began to shrink, her form condensing and growing more compact. The massive beast that had once filled the clearing gradually reduced itself until she was no larger than a full-grown horse. Her golden eyes still gleamed with power, but now she appeared sleek and agile, her movements more fluid than before.


    Riven nodded in approval. "That''ll do."


    Seraphis''s voice rumbled through his mind. "You are the first to command me in such a manner. It is¡­ novel."


    He smirked. "You''ll find I have many novel requests." sea??h th§× Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    With that, he turned on his heel and motioned for her to follow. "Come. It''s time the people meet you."


    ¡ªx¡ª


    The moment they stepped into the heart of the settlement, Seraphis''s gaze swept over the bustling marketplace, the towering apartment complexes, and the reinforced structures that had replaced the ruins of the old Shadow Kingdom. It had watched through Riven''s eyes before, but seeing it now¡ªalive, breathing, thriving¡ªwas different.


    The people noticed their king''s arrival, as they always did. Heads turned, whispers rippled through the crowd. But instead of fear at the sight of Seraphis, there was something else.


    Curiosity.


    Warmth.


    A few merchants paused in their work, eyes glimmering with interest. A child peered out from behind her mother''s cloak, wide-eyed, before whispering something excitedly. An older man, missing an arm but still steady in his movements, gave a slow nod of recognition.


    Seraphis''s tongue flickered out, tasting the air.


    It expected wariness. It expected unease.


    Instead, a woman holding a basket of dark abyssal berries approached without hesitation. She extended one to the serpent, her expression calm.


    "New arrival?" she asked, glancing at Riven before looking back at Seraphis.


    Riven nodded. "Something like that."


    The woman hummed, watching the serpent for a moment before shrugging and placing the berry on the ground before it. "Welcome to the Shadow Kingdom, then." She turned and walked off without further comment.


    Seraphis''s coils tightened slightly. It stared at the offering, then at the retreating woman.


    "What is this?" the serpent asked, voice slithering through Riven''s mind.


    "Food," Riven said simply.


    A few other onlookers followed the woman''s example, setting down small offerings of dried meat, fruit, and mana-rich herbs before continuing about their day. None treated the serpent with fear. None questioned why it was there.


    The people of the Shadow Kingdom had long since adapted to the strange and the monstrous.


    A divine serpent, even one that was undead, was nothing unusual.


    Seraphis remained motionless for a moment, its golden eyes narrowing slightly before it dipped its head, picking up one of the berries with the tip of its forked tongue.


    Riven arched a brow. "Well?"


    Seraphis swallowed the fruit, its tail flicking slightly. "¡­Strange."


    Riven smirked. "You''ll get used to it."


    The serpent regarded him for a long moment, as if trying to decipher something hidden beneath his words.


    Then, Riven''s tone shifted.


    "Enough introductions. You wanted to see more of what I''m building? Then start by patrolling the city."


    Seraphis raised its head slightly. "Patrol?"


    "Yes. You are now part of the Shadow Kingdom''s defense," Riven said plainly. "I want you to observe everything¡ªthe streets, the people, the structures. If anything unusual happens, you report it directly to me."


    The serpent flicked its tongue. "You would trust me with this?"


    "I own you, Seraphis," Riven reminded it, his abyss-blue eyes gleaming with cold amusement. "I don''t need to trust you. I command you."


    Seraphis held his gaze for a long moment.


    Then, to Riven''s surprise, it let out something akin to a quiet, low chuckle.


    "Very well¡­ Master."


    With that, the divine serpent uncoiled, its movements fluid and silent as it slithered deeper into the settlement, disappearing between the buildings like a ghost.


    Riven watched it go, his expression unreadable.


    "You think it''ll behave?" Nyx''s voice drifted from behind him.


    Riven smirked. "If it doesn''t, I''ll remind it why it belongs to me."


    Riven glanced toward the marketplace, where the scent of herbs and roasted meat filled the air. He could already hear the faint whispers following Seraphis''s departure¡ªspeculation, amusement, casual acceptance.


    Seraphis may have been divine once.


    But here, it was now just another part of the Shadow Kingdom.

 Chapter 82 - 82: Shadow Knights

    The training grounds were alive with movement.


    After Seraphis had slithered off to patrol, Riven had returned to find Krux overseeing a grueling endurance drill. Recruits ran laps under the weight of mana-infused pressure, their muscles straining as sweat dripped onto the packed dirt. Those who faltered were met with Krux''s sharp voice barking at them to keep moving.


    Nearby, Aria had taken a group of would-be assassins to a separate section of the field, where they practiced maneuvering through obstacles without making a sound. Every so often, she would flick a small throwing dagger toward one of them, just to see how quickly they reacted.


    Riven observed from the raised platform, his gaze calculating.


    Some of them would make it.


    Most wouldn''t.


    "Your orders, my king?" Krux asked, stepping up beside him. His golden eyes gleamed with approval as he glanced at the struggling recruits.


    Riven exhaled. "We push them further. We don''t know what lies ahead for our kingdom so they need to be prepared and they need to be prepared fast."


    Krux''s grin sharpened. "I thought you might say that. I''m actually surprised at some of the strength and endurance of these guys."


    Riven stepped forward, raising a hand.


    At once, the recruits halted their drills, panting as they turned toward him. Some stood straight, others trembled from exhaustion, but none dared look away.


    "You''ve proven you can endure," Riven said, his voice calm yet absolute. "Now we test your limits."


    His shadow flickered.


    In an instant, darkness surged outward from beneath Riven''s feet, stretching across the training grounds like ink spilling over parchment. The temperature dropped. The air thickened with raw abyssal energy.


    From the shifting blackness, silhouettes of Riven emerged.


    Not mere illusions, but fully formed clones that were perfectly matched in detail to their king down to the smirk he always wore.


    The recruits stiffened as they counted.


    Twenty.


    Twenty versions of their king, standing between them and victory.


    "These will be your opponents," Riven declared. "Defeat them, or fall trying."


    A sharp inhale from the gathered warriors. One of the recruits¡ªa tall man with jagged scars along his arms¡ªstepped forward, clenching his fists. "You want us to fight this many versions of you? We wouldn''t stand a chance against one of you let alone twenty!"


    Riven''s smirk was razor-sharp. "They aren''t me," he said, his gaze glinting in the dim light. "I''ve weakened them¡ªjust enough to give you a fighting chance. But make no mistake¡­" His gaze swept over the recruits. "They''re still more than enough to put you in the dirt. Now¡ªprove you can stand."


    His fingers twitched¡ª


    And the clones moved.


    Like shadows untethered, they rushed forward in perfect synchronization, their attacks seamless and precise.


    The trial had begun.


    Robert barely had time to react.


    One of the shadow clones blurred in front of him, a flicker of abyssal energy before its fist slammed toward his ribs. He twisted, barely dodging in time, but the air shook with the force behind the strike.


    Across the training grounds, the recruits fought for their lives.


    Some wielded weapons, whilst others used elemental magic, but none of them were prepared for the clones'' relentless assault. They moved with terrifying precision, never pausing, never hesitating¡ªjust like Riven had warned them.


    Robert blocked another strike, gritting his teeth as he countered with a quick slash of his dagger. The blade passed through the clone''s body like cutting through smoke¡ªbefore it solidified at the last moment, catching his wrist in an iron grip.


    Before he could react, the shadow pulled, sending him crashing onto the dirt.


    He gasped for breath. Fast. Too fast.


    Nearby, another recruit¡ªa woman wielding a halberd¡ªtried to keep distance, swinging her weapon to carve space between her and her attacker.


    It didn''t work.


    The clone sidestepped effortlessly, weaving through the arc of her swing before appearing behind her in a blur of motion. A kick to the back of her knee sent her collapsing, her weapon tumbling from her grasp.


    The clones didn''t stop.


    They pressed forward. Unrelenting. Unforgiving.


    Panic began to seep into the recruits'' movements. Their formations faltered, their reactions slowing.


    Krux, watching from the sidelines, let out a low hum. "They''re breaking."


    Nyx smirked, arms crossed. "They should be. They''re fighting one of the things they fear the most, it''s enough to have them hesitate and doubt."


    From the raised platform, Riven stood motionless, watching everything.


    The clones weren''t perfect copies of him. His mana strained under the weight of maintaining them all at once. They weren''t as strong, nor as fast, but they didn''t need to be.


    This wasn''t a battle for survival.


    It was a battle to adapt ¡ª to force his recruits past their limits.


    And yet¡­


    His gaze flicked across the battlefield.


    Most of them still fought like soldiers.


    Reacting to attacks. Defending themselves. But never dictating the battle.


    Wrong.


    He clenched his fingers slightly¡ª


    And the clones grew more aggressive.


    Their strikes became sharper, their movements faster, pushing the recruits further into exhaustion.


    Riven''s patience thinned.


    "Still too slow," he murmured. His voice wasn''t loud, yet it cut through the battlefield like a blade. "You hesitate. You defend."


    One of the recruits barely managed to dodge an incoming strike before stumbling back.


    Riven''s gaze burned. "If you do nothing but endure, you will eventually die."


    His words sent a ripple through the struggling warriors.


    Robert gritted his teeth, his knuckles white as he adjusted his grip on his daggers. His arms ached, his muscles burning from the strain of constant defense. He had barely been able to keep up with a single clone, let alone the relentless assault of the others.


    But Riven''s words echoed in his mind.


    "If you do nothing but endure, you will die."


    A surge of defiance burned in his chest.


    He had been reacting this entire time¡ªdeflecting, dodging, barely holding on. That wasn''t going to be enough.


    He had to strike back.


    Without hesitation, Robert inhaled sharply, focusing on the mana surging through his veins. He stepped into the clone''s range, rather than away from it, his daggers igniting with Wind Blade as he slashed upward.


    The air screamed as the crescent arc of wind magic tore through the space between them.


    The clone jerked, its movement lagging just a fraction of a second. Robert saw the opening and took it¡ªhis body twisted as he drove his other dagger forward, embedding it into the clone''s shoulder.


    The shadow form rippled, its body flickering as the magic disrupted its structure.


    Then¡ªit dissolved.


    Robert barely had a moment to process his victory before another clone rushed at him. But this time, he was ready.


    He didn''t wait for it to strike first.


    With a sharp exhale, he thrust both daggers forward, a surge of Wind Pressure bursting from his blades, pushing the clone back. The moment its footing wavered, Robert closed the distance. His daggers became a blur, slicing through the air in precise, deadly arcs.


    The second clone shattered.


    A heartbeat of silence.


    Then, as if his breakthrough had set off a chain reaction, the battlefield changed.


    The other recruits stopped defending and started fighting.


    A recruit wielding fire magic abandoned his panicked casting and focused. His hands moved in precise motions as he conjured a controlled burst of Fire Lance, aiming not where the clone stood¡ªbut where it was about to move.


    The moment the shadow flickered forward, the flames met it mid-step, incinerating it instantly.


    Another recruit, an earth mage, stopped retreating and slammed his foot into the ground. Earth Spikes erupted beneath the clone attacking him, impaling it before it could adjust.


    The halberd-wielding woman who had been knocked down before gritted her teeth. This time, she didn''t swing blindly. She planted her feet, let her mana flow, and spun her weapon in a calculated sweep, reinforcing it with Water Surge. The enhanced strike carved through two clones in a single, fluid motion.


    One by one, the clones began falling.


    And for the first time since the battle had begun¡ªthe recruits were no longer just surviving.


    They were winning.


    From the sidelines, Krux let out a low whistle. "Now it''s getting interesting! Damn, this is more than I expected."


    Riven, still standing on the raised platform, remained silent. His eyes swept over the battlefield, watching as his recruits finally started acting like warriors.


    His mana pulsed, the strain of maintaining so many clones weighing on him. The remaining shadows flickered, their forms growing unstable as his reserves thinned.


    It was time to end it.


    He raised a hand¡ªand in an instant, the remaining clones dissolved into nothing.


    Silence fell over the training grounds.


    The recruits stood among the dissipating shadows, chests heaving, sweat dripping from their brows. Some had minor injuries¡ªburns, cuts, bruises¡ªbut they stood.


    Riven exhaled slowly, rolling his neck as the pressure in his mana heart lessened. He stepped forward, his voice carrying through the still air.


    "You learned something today."


    The recruits straightened instinctively.


    "You thought this was a test of strength," Riven continued, his expression unreadable. "It wasn''t. Strength alone means nothing if you don''t know how to use it."


    He let his words settle for a moment before he continued.


    "Against true enemies, you won''t have the luxury of reacting. You must think, anticipate, strike first. Or you will die."


    His flames flickered around his fingers as he cast a sharp look over the group. "Remember that."


    The recruits, still catching their breath, nodded. Their eyes were different now¡ªharder, sharper. They had faced the impossible and pushed through. They weren''t just standing because they had survived.


    They were standing because they had grown.


    Krux crossed his arms, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Looks like some of them might actually be worth training after all."


    Nyx hummed, tilting her head. "A good few of them."


    Riven smirked, satisfied.


    The real training could now begin.


    ¡ªx¡ª


    The fire crackled softly, its warm glow casting flickering shadows over the gathered warriors. The encampment, though bustling during the day, had settled into a quiet hum of murmured conversations and the distant hammering of construction crews working late into the night.


    Riven sat at the edge of the campfire, watching the flames dance against the logs. His generals were seated nearby¡ªKrux sharpening his blade, Nyx absently tossing a dagger between her fingers.


    The recruits who had survived the trial sat a short distance away, still catching their breath from the day''s grueling training. Some clutched their injuries, wrapping bandages around fresh wounds. Others simply stared at the fire, their gazes distant as they processed the battles they had fought.


    Robert was among them, his daggers resting across his lap. His eyes, once bright with youthful arrogance, now carried a newfound weight.


    Good.


    They were learning.


    Riven leaned back against his chair, exhaling slowly. The recruits weren''t strong yet. But they would be. He would make sure of it.


    Then¡ª


    A shiver ran through the night air.


    The warmth of the fire seemed to flicker. The torches set up around the perimeter wavered slightly, their flames dimming as if something unseen had passed over them.


    A ripple of unease spread through the camp.


    Riven sat up, his fingers twitching. His senses prickled, a whisper of wrongness creeping along his skin.


    He wasn''t the only one who felt it.


    Krux straightened, hand gripping his sword. Nyx stilled, her usually relaxed expression sharpening into focus.


    Then¡ª


    A low groan echoed from beyond the encampment. The sound was inhuman, dry and rasping, like wind whistling through hollow bones.


    A moment later, shadows began to stir at the edge of the encampment and Riven stood to his feet, his eyes widened as he realised what was approaching.


    Figures lurched forward.


    Dozens of them.


    Rotting flesh, tattered armor, and glowing blue eyes.


    It was a horde of undead.


    ¡ªThey were under attack.


    Before anyone could react, Seraphis moved. A blur of pearl-white scales streaked past the campfire, faster than even Riven could track. One moment, the divine serpent lay coiled beside the tents, basking in the warmth of the embers¡ªthe next, she had lunged forward, her massive form slamming into the encroaching undead like a living spear of golden light.


    A thunderous boom cracked through the night as her immense tail whipped out, shattering the first wave of corpses. The brittle undead scattered like broken dolls, their bones crunching beneath the sheer weight of her strike. Dust and flecks of rotted flesh filled the air, the stench of death thickening. A guttural hiss left Seraphis as she sank her fangs into the skull of a knight, her golden eyes burning with savage intent. The corpse twitched, its blue glow flickering violently before going completely still.


    Riven barely blinked.


    She was fast¡ªtoo fast. He knew she was holding back, but this? Even Krux, who rarely looked surprised, let out a low whistle. "Damn."


    Seraphis coiled back, her forked tongue flickering as she surveyed the battlefield, tail twitching with irritation. Riven felt it through their bond¡ªshe was straining, restrained by the limits of his own power. She wanted to unleash her full might, to obliterate everything in sight, but she couldn''t. Not yet.


    Her power was still tied to him, and his own mana, though vast, was not enough to sustain her full strength effortlessly. A soft, frustrated hiss escaped her, but she did not relent, launching herself forward once more to crush another knight''s ribcage into dust.


    The camp erupted into chaos.


    Krux was already moving, his golden eyes gleaming as a sword materialised in his grip, radiating raw mana as he charged forward. "Move!" he barked, his voice carrying over the rising battle cries.


    Nyx vanished into the shadows, her sword flashing as she cut down the first undead that stepped into her reach, her movements precise, effortless. Aria had already perched atop one of the wooden barricades, her twin daggers glowing with dark violet mana, scanning the approaching horde with cold calculation.


    Despite their exhaustion, the recruits reacted instantly. The Shadow Knights scrambled for their weapons, adrenaline overriding fatigue as they formed a line of defense, elemental magic flaring to life around them.


    Riven stepped forward, his abyssal energy crackling at his fingertips, his gaze sweeping across the battlefield. The undead were not fresh. They were old, armor rusted, bones brittle, their tattered banners marked with the insignia of the Shadow Kingdom. His kingdom. No¡­ his predecessor''s.


    Something was wrong.


    His flames ignited as he flicked his wrist, sending a torrent of black fire ripping through the nearest cluster of undead. The wave of flame engulfed them instantly, their hollow eyes burning out as their corpses crumbled into ash. But even as they fell, more came.


    They dragged themselves out of the darkness like maggots writhing from a rotting corpse, their dead eyes locked onto the encampment. And worse¡ªtheir movements were not mindless.


    They weren''t aimless husks shambling toward the nearest target. They were moving with intent.


    As if drawn by something.


    Riven''s stomach twisted.


    Then, it hit him.


    His abyssal magic. His shadows. He had called them.


    These undead had been slumbering for decades, maybe centuries¡ªburied remnants of the old Shadow Kingdom''s armies. And now, they had awoken. But why? Why attack him?


    His mana flared in frustration.


    Nyx materialized at his side, her voice deadly calm. "They don''t belong to you."


    Riven''s fingers tightened around his staff he pulled from his inventory. "What?"


    "These are not yours to command," Nyx said, her voice steady. "They were raised by Velmorian. Look at their armor¡ªthe insignia they bear. They belonged to the former Shadow King."


    The weight of her words settled over him like a curse.


    Velmorian.


    Even in death, his influence lingered.


    The realization burned through Riven like ice. The former Shadow King''s army had once obeyed his will, but now, with their master gone, they were nothing but aimless corpses with nowhere to go. No master. No commands.


    Only one instinct remained¡ª kill.


    Kill everything.


    Destroy anything that moved.


    And that included him.


    His jaw clenched. Without a will binding them, they had no distinction between friend or foe. The shadows had drawn them here¡ªhis shadows¡ªand now they sought to destroy what called them.


    There was no saving them ¡ªno claiming them.


    They were a threat.


    Which meant there was only one solution.


    Riven raised his staff, its abyssal fire illuminating his features in the firelight. His voice was cold, absolute.


    "Kill them all."


    His generals did not hesitate.


    Krux''s grin was wolfish as he surged forward, golden mana flaring around him. His fists cut through three undead at once, their decayed forms exploding into dust under the sheer force. Aria vanished and reappeared in the middle of the horde, her daggers whispering through the air, her attacks a dance of graceful death.


    Nyx moved like a shadow, phasing through the ranks, her strikes silent, lethal.


    The recruits followed.


    Fireballs erupted into the sky, scorching undead where they stood. Wind blades carved through bone and armor, severing heads with surgical precision. Earth spikes shot up from the ground, impaling their rotting foes.


    The battle was in full force.


    Seraphis, still bound by Riven''s limited strength, struck wherever she could, her frustration evident. She could do more¡ªshe wanted to do more¡ªbut his power wasn''t strong enough to let her unleash everything.


    Riven clenched his jaw.


    He needed to grow stronger.


    He needed to expand his control.


    If he couldn''t even command the remnants of his own kingdom''s undead, then he had a long way to go.


    Krux''s voice cut through the battlefield. "My liege! We need to end this before they overrun the lower camp!"


    Riven exhaled sharply. He had been too caught up in his thoughts.


    No more wasting time.


    He raised a hand, energy surging like a tidal wave. The flames at his fingertips coiled, turning into something deeper, something hungrier. A void of pure destruction.


    "Fall back," he commanded, his voice carrying over the battlefield. S~ea??h the n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The Shadow Knights hesitated for only a moment before obeying, pulling away as Riven took center stage.


    Abyssal fire erupted.


    The sky darkened.


    The air grew heavy, as if the world itself recoiled from the sheer force of his mana.


    A wave of pure, annihilation swept across the battlefield, consuming everything in its path. The undead didn''t even have time to react. The moment the fire touched them, their bodies collapsed into dust. Armor melted. Swords disintegrated.


    The remnants of Velmorian''s army, once formidable, were erased in an instant.


    Silence followed.


    The battlefield, once crawling with the dead, was empty.


    Only ashes remained.


    Riven exhaled, feeling the weight of his mana reserves drop significantly. His flames flickered, then dimmed.


    The battle was over.


    But the implications lingered.


    Krux ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head. "Well, I wasn''t expecting that to happen."


    Nyx watched the dying embers of the battlefield, her obsidian eyes unreadable. "This won''t be the last," she murmured. "As long as the remnants of the old Shadow Kingdom remain, more will rise." She exhaled, crossing her arms. "I''ve heard whispers¡ªrumors that undead hordes have been attacking the Solis Kingdom''s borders for months now. And tonight, they came for us."


    Nyx''s gaze flicked toward Riven, sharp and knowing. "It seems they''ve been aware of you for a while."


    A sudden pulse of raw fury exploded from Riven, dark and suffocating. "Fuck!" The sheer force of his frustration lashed out like a violent wave, making those nearest to him instinctively step back. Even his generals, hardened warriors who had seen him at his most ruthless, flinched.


    Riven sucked in a sharp breath, forcing himself to steady his raging emotions, but the damage was already done. His generals dropped to their knees in unison, heads bowed.


    "We''ll apologize, my liege," Aria said swiftly, her voice tight with urgency. "We failed to detect the horde during our scouting missions."


    "It''s fine," Riven said, waving her off, his voice clipped but measured. "We don''t have enough people to cover the area properly yet."


    A heavy silence settled over the encampment. The weight of his rage had passed, but the tension lingered. No one dared to speak. Even the recruits, standing at a distance, knew better than to make a sound when their king was like this.


    Riven exhaled, dragging a hand through his blood-red hair as he turned to the smoldering battlefield. The remains of the undead lay in scattered piles of charred bone and twisted metal. This was only the beginning.


    "We need more people," he said, his voice quiet but absolute. His gaze swept over the destruction. "No¡­ we need an army. The Shadow Knights are an elite force, trained to fight beside you generals. But to continually protect the kingdom?" He shook his head. "They won''t be enough."


    He turned back to his kneeling generals, his expression unreadable. "I need an undead army of my own. One that can fight the dead¡­ and protect the city."


    The generals lifted their heads, their expressions unreadable. But there was no hesitation when they spoke.


    "Give us your command, my king," they said in unison.


    Riven''s gaze burned with cold determination. "I will revive the warriors who fell during the collapse of the Shadow Kingdom."


    A sharp intake of breath rippled through the gathered warriors. Even the most battle-hardened among them stiffened.


    "The necromancers, the mages, the knights who died in the war¡­ I will raise them," Riven continued, his voice carrying through the night, leaving no room for doubt. "And they will become the foundation of our army. They will once again serve their kingdom."


    For a long moment, no one spoke. Then, as if his words had solidified into unshakable truth, his generals bowed lower.


    "As you command, my liege."

 Chapter 83 - 83: Undead Warriors

    The Shadow Wastes stretched endlessly beyond the encampment''s borders, a desolate expanse where the dead were long forgotten. Once, this land had been the beating heart of the Shadow Kingdom, but now, it was a graveyard of its past¡ªa battlefield where thousands had perished, their bones left to the sands of time.


    And tonight, three of them would rise again.


    Nyx, Krux, and Aria had left before dawn, vanishing into the ruins beyond the Shadow Kingdom''s shattered borders. The journey was treacherous, the air thick with lingering mana from spells cast centuries ago. The land itself rejected them, shadows curling and twisting unnaturally around their feet. It was no place for the living.


    But they were not afraid.


    They moved with purpose, silent but efficient, following the remnants of ancient battlefields where necromancers had once stood against the Solis Empire. It did not take long to find what they sought.


    Three skeletons lay half-buried in the cracked earth, their robes tattered, their skulls still adorned with remnants of ceremonial engravings. Even in death, their bones pulsed faintly with residual mana¡ªproof that they had once wielded immense power.


    Krux crouched beside the remains, running a calloused hand over the brittle ribcage of one of the fallen. His eyes narrowed. "They died fighting."


    Aria knelt beside another, brushing away dust from a shattered femur. "Not just fighting. They were slaughtered. There are traces of purification magic on the bones. The Solis Empire didn''t want them to rise again." S§×arch* The N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Nyx remained standing, her gaze unreadable as she scanned their surroundings. "Then they underestimated our king."


    Without another word, the three generals worked swiftly, carefully extracting the skeletons from the cursed soil and wrapping them in protective mana-infused cloth. It was dangerous to disturb such ancient dead without proper preparation¡ªresidual energies could cling to the bones, corrupting anyone who touched them without the right precautions.


    But they were not ordinary warriors.


    By the time they returned to the encampment, the sky had darkened once more, the air thick with the weight of what was about to take place.


    Riven stood at the heart of the encampment, the hushed murmurs of his gathered warriors fading into silence. Before him, three skeletal remains lay upon the dusty earth, remnants of the Shadow Kingdom''s past¡ªnecromancers who had fallen in the war, now nothing more than brittle bone and lost history.


    Normally, Puppeteer of the Dead only allowed Riven to reanimate fresh corpses, binding them to his will with ease. But after uncovering the Soulforge: King''s Dominion skill from the hidden Vault beneath the library, everything changed.


    Unlike his original ability, Soulforge: King''s Dominion extended beyond the limits of decay, allowing him to summon souls long since lost to time, no matter how old their remains. It bypassed the constraints of flesh and bone, reaching into the void to reclaim those long perished. There was limits of course, he couldn''t bring back someone on the same power level as him or someone who had been stronger.


    But what surprised him most was that it wasn''t a separate ability but a passive augmentation to Puppeteer of the Dead¡ªa hidden layer of power that had been dormant until now.


    He exhaled, lifting his hand above them. The air around him thickened, abyssal energy stirring like a tide drawn by an unseen moon. Shadows coiled at his feet, stretching outward, seeping into the ground. His presence alone commanded the void, the very essence of death bending to his will.


    He spoke the word that would change everything.


    "Awaken."


    A pulse of pure abyssal power erupted from his palm, black tendrils of energy lashing forward and sinking deep into the skeletal remains. The world seemed to hold its breath. The bones twitched, then rattled violently as an unseen force pulled them from the grasp of death.


    Shadows poured into their hollow forms like ink seeping into cracks, filling the void where flesh had long decayed. The energy bound itself to them, knitting together fractured bones, reawakening slumbering souls trapped in the abyss.


    Then, with a sharp inhale of nothingness, the first of them moved.


    The tallest of the three, his tattered black robes still clinging to his skeletal frame, lifted his head. Twin pinpricks of abyssal fire flickered to life in his empty sockets, and his voice, ancient and cracked, rasped through the silence.


    "Who¡­ calls me back?"


    The second followed, her fingers flexing as faint markings¡ªritualistic tattoos burned into bone from past mana exposure¡ªglowed softly. Her voice was lighter, but no less eerie.


    "The Shadow King¡­ still breathes?"


    The last to rise was smaller but clad in aged, broken armor. His gauntleted fingers curled into a fist as he lifted his skull, his voice barely more than a whisper of wind through hollow halls.


    "The war¡­ has not ended."


    Riven let his mana flow freely, pouring into them, binding their newly awakened souls to his command. His eyes burned like smoldering coals as he gazed upon them.


    "I am Riven," he declared, his voice absolute. "King of the Shadow Kingdom. And I have called you back."


    The necromancers stilled.


    Then, as one, they knelt.


    Not as mindless undead. Not as husks stripped of identity. But as warriors of a kingdom that was rising once more.


    The tallest one''s fingers brushed the abyssal energy curling around him. "You are not him." His tone was not questioning¡ªit was knowing.


    "No," Riven confirmed. "Velmorian is dead."


    At those words, the air shifted. The second necromancer tilted her skull, the faint remnants of her old voice laced with something almost¡­ amused. "And yet, we remain."


    Riven stepped closer, his presence looming. "You were apart of and protected this kingdom once. You will do so again."


    For a long moment, there was silence.


    Then the armored necromancer let out a sound¡ªa deep, hollow laugh, dry as the grave. "The Shadow Kingdom¡­ still has a king."


    Riven did not move, but his power coiled tighter around them, locking them into his dominion. "And you will serve."


    The tallest bowed his head. "We already do."


    His shadows surged, swallowing them whole.


    Then¡ªRiven siphoned more of his mana, pushing it into them, reshaping their forms. Their bodies tensed, the glow in their sockets intensifying. The skeletal structures hardened, their movements becoming sharper, more controlled. No longer simple undead.


    But something more.


    Undead Warriors.


    A notification flickered in his mind.


    [[ Subjugation successful. ]]


    [[ Adding Undead Minions 3/5: Reanimated Necromancers ]]


    [[ Promotion Activated: Undead Minion ¡ú Undead Warrior ]]


    [[ Total Undead Minions 5/5 ]]


    [[ Skill can now be upgraded ]]


    The three necromancers slowly rose to their feet, their forms steadier, more refined. The raw scent of abyssal energy radiated from them¡ªnot mindless husks, but true extensions of Riven''s will.


    The Shadow Kingdom''s army had begun.


    Riven lowered his hand, watching them closely. "Your names."


    The tallest inclined his skull. "Malik."


    The second''s bones shifted as she straightened. "Veyra."


    The armored one adjusted his gauntlets. "Danin."


    Riven committed their names to memory. "Welcome back to the Shadow Kingdom."


    Malik''s abyssal eyes flickered. "What are your orders, my king?"


    Riven''s smirk was sharp as a blade. "You are to go out into the wastes and find your lost brethren. Bring me only the strongest of the fallen warriors and I shall bring them back."


    "We heed your command." They said I unison and disappeared in a swirl of smoke.


    The gathered warriors and residents remained silent, the weight of what they had just witnessed settling into their bones. This was no ordinary necromancy. This was true resurrection, not as mindless undead, but as warriors reforged in the abyss.


    Nyx exhaled, her gaze lingering on Riven. "This changes everything." There was no doubt in her voice¡ªonly certainty. But after a pause, her eyes narrowed slightly. "Can you keep up with the mana strain?"


    Riven flexed his fingers, rolling his shoulders as the last remnants of dark energy settled within him. "I don''t have a choice." His tone was steady, but beneath it lay something deeper¡ªa hunger, a drive that refused to yield. "Human soldiers alone won''t be enough. The Shadow Knights will be our elite force, but what we need is an army that does not tire, does not fear, does not waver."


    Krux let out a low chuckle, crossing his arms. "Looks like we''ll have to work just as hard to make sure we''re not left behind."


    Riven glanced at him, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "Then stop wasting time. Those apartments won''t build themselves."


    Krux groaned. "It''s the middle of the damn night¡ª" But the moment Riven''s gaze darkened, his protest died in his throat. He grumbled something under his breath before turning to leave, dragging a reluctant Damon along with him.


    Riven swept his gaze over the gathered warriors, his voice cutting through the night. "That goes for all of you. We push past our limits. Just because we have the foundation of a kingdom doesn''t mean we can afford to slow down." His abyssal mana pulsed faintly, a reminder of the power that now ran through the heart of their city. "Double your efforts. We are not rebuilding¡ªwe are reclaiming."


    ¡ªx¡ª


    In the wake of that fateful night, the kingdom surged forward at an unrelenting pace.


    Riven had pushed his abilities to their limits, evolving his skill to reanimate a total of twenty undead necromancers. The strain of maintaining them was immense, forcing him to rely on a daily intake of mana potions just to sustain their tether to him. But the results were undeniable¡ªhis army was growing, and the Shadow Kingdom''s foundation was stronger than ever.


    The city''s builders worked tirelessly, fueled by their king''s unwavering resolve and sharp encouragement. Within weeks, the encampment had transformed once more. A fourth apartment block rose beside the others, offering housing to the influx of new residents. A tavern was constructed¡ªits warm glow a beacon in the heart of the settlement¡ªand alongside it, a newly built barracks stood ready to train both the Shadow Knights and the growing ranks of soldiers.


    Trade flourished. Merchants now moved in and out of the market square with increasing frequency, their confidence in the kingdom''s revival solidifying. To bring order to the growing commerce, Nyx secured a competent overseer to manage the merchants, streamlining transactions and negotiations. The demand to establish permanent storefronts had already begun¡ªan undeniable sign that the Shadow Kingdom was no longer just surviving but thriving.


    Beyond the city, Riven expanded the farmland further, pushing the reach of abyssal-infused cultivation. New medicinal herbs flourished alongside fresh crops, their properties stronger, richer than anything found in the outside world. What had once been a wasteland was now a kingdom reborn.


    And now, the long fated moment came.


    A heavily armored caravan, bearing the unmistakable crest of the Deveroux guild, rolled into the city under the watchful eyes of the Shadow Knights. Despite their well-trained composure, the guards escorting the shipment couldn''t fully conceal their unease. Word of the Shadow Kingdom''s revival had spread like wildfire, but seeing it firsthand was something else entirely.


    They passed through newly constructed roads lined with towering structures¡ªapartments, barracks, and trade centers that hadn''t existed mere months ago. The streets, once barren, now thrived with movement. Blacksmiths hammered away in open forges, their flames casting sharp shadows across stone walls. Traders set up their stalls beneath newly built awnings, their voices haggling over prices in a city that had once been thought dead.


    At the heart of it all stood Riven.


    He was waiting for them at the steps of the newly constructed trade hall, flanked by Nyx, Krux, and Aria. Behind them, Malik, Veyra, and Danin stood at silent attention¡ªtheir undead presence an unspoken warning.


    The caravan came to a stop, and the lead merchant dismounted, adjusting his fine cloak before stepping forward. His face was composed, but Riven didn''t miss the way his fingers twitched slightly as he reached into his satchel.


    "A delivery," the merchant announced, pulling out a sealed ledger stamped with the Deveroux crest. "First payment, as per our agreement."


    Riven took the ledger, flipping through its contents. The figures were substantial¡ªfar more than the average city could generate in its infancy. The auctioned abyssal-infused herbs had fetched a high price, and with Deveroux Guild''s exclusive rights to their sale, the profits were only beginning.


    With a flick of his wrist, he handed the ledger to Nyx, who scanned the numbers with a sharp eye.


    "We were expecting coin," she said, looking up.


    The merchant hesitated before motioning toward the back of the caravan. "The Duke decided a portion of the payment would be in supplies instead of raw gold. He assumed your city would benefit more from resources at this stage."


    Riven narrowed his eyes slightly, but waved his hand. "Show me."


    At his command, the caravan''s guards pulled back the heavy canvas coverings, revealing crates upon crates of refined materials. Stacks of enchanted steel, processed lumber reinforced with mana, and barrels of rare alchemical ingredients. At the very back, several sealed chests gleamed with the weight of gold.


    A calculated move. Lucien Deveroux wasn''t just paying him¡ªhe was investing in the Shadow Kingdom''s infrastructure, ensuring that their dependence on his guild remained strong.


    Riven smirked. Clever.


    Krux let out a low whistle as he examined the goods. "I''ll give him this¡ªhe''s thinking long-term."


    Nyx closed the ledger, giving a small nod. "The numbers match. The payment is fair."


    The merchant cleared his throat. "The Duke also sent a message." He reached into his satchel again, retrieving a sealed letter. "He wishes to discuss an expansion of the deal¡ªsomething regarding higher-tier alchemical products."


    Riven took the letter but didn''t open it immediately. Instead, he turned his gaze toward the merchant, his voice smooth but firm. "Tell the Duke I''ll consider it after I''ve seen how well he upholds his end of the current agreement."


    The merchant hesitated before nodding. "Of course."


    Riven stepped back. "Unload everything. My people will handle the distribution."


    The guards scrambled to obey, moving quickly to offload the supplies. The Shadow Kingdom''s warriors¡ªboth living and undead¡ªstepped forward to take inventory, their movements efficient.


    As the crates were carried into the city, Riven turned to Nyx. "Ensure the gold is stored properly. Allocate funds for the expansion projects."


    Riven wasted no time.


    Now that the first payment had arrived, he was ready to accelerate his plans. The walls of the Shadow Kingdom were still little more than makeshift barricades¡ªenough to keep smaller threats at bay but nowhere near the fortifications they needed.


    That would change immediately.


    Standing at the center of the trade hall, surrounded now by all his generals, he gave out his next orders.


    "We begin construction on the outer walls. Effective immediately." His gaze swept over them, unwavering. "Damon, you will oversee the structural integrity. Use everything at your disposal¡ªearth magic, reinforced stone, abyssal-infused foundations if necessary. I want these walls to stand against both time and siege."


    Damon nodded, rolling his shoulders. "We''ll need a massive amount of stone and metal for that, but with what we just received from Deveroux, we can make it happen."


    Riven turned to Krux. "You''ll lead the workers. Prioritize efficiency but do not compromise security. Every part of the wall built must be defensible. Set up watchtowers along key points and reinforce the main gates."


    Krux crossed his arms, his golden eyes gleaming. "Consider it done."


    Riven continued. "Nyx, you will assign Shadow Knights to oversee construction sites and patrol the perimeters. We can''t afford any interruptions."


    Nyx gave a small nod, her expression sharp. "I''ll make sure no one gets in or out without us knowing."


    She went back to looking through the ledgers, her mind working ahead. "We''ll need more manpower. The undead necromancers can assist, but human workers will be vital for speed and precision."


    "Then find them," Riven said simply. "We''ll offer wages, food, and housing for anyone willing to work. If necessary, reach out to independent laborers through our merchant connections."


    Nyx smirked. "Done."


    Riven took a step forward, his presence pressing down on them like a shadow stretching over the room. "The outer walls are our priority now. No other project takes precedence. I want the first sections complete within the next two weeks."


    Damon scoffed. "Two weeks? That''s¡ª" He stopped when he met Riven''s gaze and sighed, rubbing his temples. "Fine. But don''t expect us to sleep."


    Krux clapped him on the back. "That''s the spirit."


    Riven turned toward the gathered workers who had been waiting outside the hall, watching the meeting in tense silence. "All of you," he called out, his voice carrying through the air, "the Shadow Kingdom is no longer a camp. No longer a ruin. We are a city. A kingdom."


    His aura pulsed, spreading over them, filling them with the weight of his will.


    "And a kingdom must be defended."


    Murmurs of agreement rippled through the crowd.


    "We build not for today, but for generations to come." His gaze hardened. "We begin immediately."


    A roar of approval rose from the gathered workers, Shadow Knights, and citizens alike. The kingdom had no time for hesitation. They had survived the ruins of their past¡ªnow they would fortify their future.


    "Aria, with me," Riven commanded, his tone leaving no room for discussion.


    She gave a silent nod and followed as he turned, striding out of the trade hall. Behind them, the others dispersed, already moving to carry out their assigned tasks.


    Riven led Aria away from the growing crowd, his steps purposeful as they moved through the city''s newly paved streets. The torches lining the roads flickered, casting shifting shadows across the stonework. The hum of activity behind them faded as they neared a quieter section of the city, where the construction had yet to reach.


    Aria remained silent, waiting for him to speak. She was sharp enough to know that if he was pulling her aside like this, it wasn''t for idle conversation.


    Riven finally stopped at a secluded vantage point overlooking the encampment. From here, they could see the evolving kingdom¡ªthe workers moving to fortify the walls, the merchants finalizing trades in the market square, the warriors training in the barracks. It was progress, but progress wasn''t enough.


    Not yet.


    "We''ve secured trade," Riven began, his voice even. "We''ve started building a proper defense. We''ve begun assembling an army."


    Aria nodded, waiting.


    "But there''s something we still lack," he continued. "Information."


    Aria''s dark eyes gleamed in understanding.


    "I need an network," Riven stated. "A force that operates in the shadows. One that gathers intelligence, eliminates threats before they arise, and ensures our enemies never see us coming."


    He turned his gaze to her fully. "And I want you to lead it."


    Aria didn''t blink. "An assassin unit."


    "More than that," Riven corrected. "A network. Spies, infiltrators, saboteurs. A force capable of gathering intelligence across multiple cities, tracking enemy movements, and taking out key targets before they ever become a problem." His voice darkened. "We can''t afford to be caught off guard. Not by the Solis Kingdom. Not by the guilds. Not by anyone."


    Aria crossed her arms, considering. "We''d need to train new recruits from the ground up. The Shadow Kingdom''s warriors are strong, but assassination and espionage are different beasts. I''ll need those who can move unseen, think fast, and kill without hesitation."


    "Select whoever you see fit," Riven said. "We''ll start with a small core team and expand as needed. Use the existing mercenaries and rogues in the city as a base¡ªthere are plenty of survivors who lived in the underbelly of the fallen kingdom. They''ll adapt quickly."


    Aria smirked faintly. "You''re giving me free rein, then?"


    "As long as it gets done," Riven confirmed. "And I want them ready as soon as possible."


    She exhaled, nodding. "I''ll begin scouting for candidates immediately. Some of the traders coming through might have connections to informants or displaced spies. I''ll leverage those resources."


    "Good." Riven''s gaze drifted back to the city. "Your squad will be the Shadow Fangs."


    Aria''s expression didn''t shift, but there was a flicker of approval in her eyes. "Fitting."


    "They''ll operate beyond the walls, in the streets of enemy cities, within the ranks of those who seek to undermine us." Riven''s voice was low, but absolute. "I want eyes everywhere. And if there''s a threat¡ªI want it removed before it ever reaches our doorstep."


    Aria bowed her head. "Then I''ll give you ghosts, my king." A small smile played at her lips. "And nightmares for your enemies."


    Riven smirked. "That''s exactly what I need."


    She straightened, her stance shifting into something sharper. "I''ll send word when I have my first recruits."


    "Make it quick," Riven said as he turned to leave. "I expect results."


    Aria simply nodded before vanishing into the night.


    The Shadow Fangs were about to be born.

 Chapter 84 - 84: Challenged

    The air inside Vera''s Tavern was thick with warmth, laughter, and the scent of well-cooked food. The once-abandoned shell of a building had transformed into the heart of the Shadow Kingdom''s growing community, a place where warriors, builders, merchants, and travelers alike could gather.


    Long wooden tables were packed with workers fresh from the construction sites, their faces alight with the satisfaction of a day''s hard labor. Soldiers from the Shadow Knights drank alongside farmers, and traders exchanged stories of the outside world over plates of steaming venison and freshly baked bread.


    For the first time in a long time, the people of the Shadow Kingdom had more than just a temporary shelter¡ªthey had home.


    At a private table near the back, Riven sat with his generals¡ªNyx, Krux, Aria, Damon, and Mal. Their usual tension had loosened, replaced by a rare moment of camaraderie. Even Aria, who rarely indulged in social settings, leaned back in her chair, sipping from a glass of dark wine.


    Krux exhaled heavily, slamming down an empty mug. "I''ll say this¡ªwalls or not, this is what makes a kingdom." He gestured toward the room with a lopsided grin. "A warm fire, strong drink, and good people."


    Damon smirked. "Are you drunk already?"


    Krux scoffed, reaching for another drink. "Oh, hell no! I''ve barely started drinking!"


    Riven rolled his eyes and listened in silence, taking in the relaxed atmosphere. The walls were nearly complete, and with them came security. The Shadow Fangs had begun their first missions, and intelligence was flowing in steadily. Trade was stable, and the city was no longer just an encampment, but a functioning society.


    For the first time since his return, everything was going right.


    Vera, the tavern''s owner, approached their table, setting down a fresh plate of roasted meat. She wiped her hands on her apron, her sharp eyes landing on Riven.


    "You look less like a shadow and more like a man tonight, Your Majesty," she mused, arms crossed.


    Riven raised an eyebrow. "I didn''t realize I was so ghostly before."


    Vera chuckled. "You were. But now?" She gestured toward the tavern. "This place. These people. They see you¡ªnot just as a king, but as one of them."


    Riven said nothing, but something in his chest tightened at her words.


    Before he could respond, the warmth of the tavern was abruptly cut through by a chill¡ªa ripple of magic that only he could feel.


    A voice, distant yet unmistakably familiar, echoed in his mind.


    ''Master. You are being summoned.''


    His eyes narrowed, and he gripped the edge of the table as a pulse of abyssal energy flickered through his veins.


    Sana.


    The undead acolyte he had stationed within The Academy to make sure no one noticed his disappearance.


    His mind opened the connection fully, allowing Sana''s voice to sharpen. ''I have intercepted a message from the ranking board. You have been issued a challenge.''


    Riven''s fingers tapped against the wooden surface, his mind calculating.


    A challenge?


    When he left the academy, people had been terrified of him ¡ª actively moving out of his way whenever he made his way through the academy halls.


    So who the hell was stupid enough to challenge him?


    And why now?


    A sharp pulse of dark mana rippled through his veins as the connection to Sana remained active.


    ''What are your orders, Master?''


    Riven exhaled slowly and pinched the bridge of his nose, blocking out the tavern''s warmth for a moment. His focus honed in on the unseen battlefield ahead.


    "I need to return."


    The words hit like a thunderclap, silencing the table in an instant.


    Krux''s chair scraped against the wooden floor as he sat up, golden eyes narrowing. "What?! Why now?!"


    Mal leaned forward, his usual nonchalance fading into a rare moment of concern. "We''ve barely reached a stage of stability¡ªwe can''t afford to lose our king right now."


    "I know," Riven admitted. His jaw tensed. "But, in all honesty, I was already planning to return after raising those twenty warriors."


    A sigh left him as he tilted his head back, eyes briefly closing. The strain was building. The longer he delayed, the worse it would get. S~ea??h the nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "I need to reach the Fourth Circle as fast as possible. Maintaining the undead warriors, the tether to Sana, and my shadow clone at the Academy¡ªit''s all draining my mana at an unsustainable rate."


    The revelation was met with more silence. Even Nyx, who had already suspected something was off, frowned slightly.


    "Even though the Academy is under Solis''s jurisdiction, their training grounds, mana-dense islands, and high-tier battle arenas are invaluable to my growth. If I want to keep pushing forward, I need to keep exploiting their resources for as long as I can." His abyssal eyes burned as he leaned forward. "Or until my identity as the Shadow King is revealed."


    The weight of his words settled over the table like a storm cloud.


    They all knew what it meant.


    If Riven''s cover was blown, there would be no more slow expansion. No more time to quietly fortify the Shadow Kingdom. The Solis Empire would move against them the moment they confirmed the Shadow King had risen once more.


    Krux let out a slow sigh, running a hand through his wild golden hair. Guilt flickered in his eyes. "Then¡­ we''ll go back with you." His voice was gruff. "You can focus on training while we protect you from the shadows, same as before."


    "No."


    Riven''s answer was immediate, firm.


    His gaze swept across his most trusted generals, his foundations of power. "I''m only taking Nyx this time."


    Nyx''s lips curled into a knowing smirk, while Krux immediately gaped in betrayal.


    "Why?!" Krux blurted. "You can''t leave me!"


    Riven sighed. "I need all of you here. The kingdom must remain stable while I''m gone. The walls aren''t finished, the Shadow Fangs are still forming, and the merchant negotiations with Deveroux aren''t done yet. You all have your own tasks."


    Krux pouted, his large frame deflating slightly. "But, my liege¡­" His eyes practically shimmered with unshed tears.


    "There, there," Nyx teased, twirling a strand of his golden hair around her finger as she leaned toward him. "It''s only fair that our King takes his favorite general with him."


    Krux slammed his tankard down onto the table with a thunderous crash. "NYX!"


    Mal sighed dramatically. "Here we go."


    Damon rolled his eyes. "You two bicker like an old married couple."


    Aria, who had been enjoying the drama with a barely concealed smirk, took a slow sip of her drink. "This is the most entertaining part of our night."


    Krux huffed, crossing his arms. "Fine. Go. But don''t come crying to me when you realize you need actual muscle out there."


    Nyx mocked a thoughtful look. "Hmm. Who needs brute force when you have strategy?"


    Krux opened his mouth to argue¡ªonly to pause. "Wait. Was that an insult?"


    Nyx smirked. "If you have to ask, then yes."


    Damon snorted into his drink.


    Riven exhaled slowly, rubbing his temple as he processed the situation.


    This wasn''t just a challenge¡ªit was a problem.


    Back when he was still at the Academy, he had cultivated a certain reputation. Ruthless. Calculating. Unstoppable. He had worked his way up the ranks by methodically dismantling his opponents, pushing himself to the limits to refine his combat abilities.


    And he had never once backed down from a challenge.


    If he suddenly ignored this one, it would raise too many questions. The Academy would wonder why the once-relentless Riven had gone silent. Rumors would start. People would dig.


    And the last thing he needed was anyone looking too closely at why he had been so quiet lately.


    "We have to leave tonight." Riven said and the table was quiet once more.


    Mal sighed, rubbing his temples. "You don''t waste time, do you?"


    "I can''t afford to," Riven replied. His voice was steady, but the weight behind it was undeniable. "If we delay, the Academy will start asking questions. And if they start looking for answers¡­" His eyes darkened. "It won''t end well."


    The table was silent. Even Krux, who had been pouting moments ago, straightened, understanding the gravity of the situation.


    "I''ll need two teleportation scrolls," Riven continued. "One to get Nyx and me near the Solis Kingdom''s borders. And another to bring us back when the time is right."


    Mal exhaled. "That''ll take some work, but I can do it." He stood, already rolling his sleeves up. "Give me an hour."


    Riven turned to Nyx, his gaze sharp. "This time, you won''t just be watching from the shadows. You''ll be undercover as a student¡ªright beside me."


    Nyx''s smirk widened. "Finally, my time to shine."


    Riven reached out through his bond with Sana.


    ''I need new identity documents for Nyx. She''s to be registered as a second-year student. She will need a uniform and a talisman.''


    Sana''s response was immediate. ''Understood, Master. It will be done.''


    "Good." Riven leaned back, closing his eyes for a brief moment. The weight of everything settled onto his shoulders.


    Tonight, he would leave behind everything he had built.


    Even if only for a time.


    ¡ªx¡ª


    By the time the teleportation scrolls were prepared and their supplies packed, the entire city was awake. Word had spread quickly, and now the people of the Shadow Kingdom stood gathered at the city''s gates, torches flickering against the nearly completed walls.


    They had come to see their king off.


    Riven stood before them, flanked by his generals. Krux, Damon, Aria, and Mal¡ªeach one of them carried the same unspoken worry in their eyes. But none of them argued anymore.


    The kingdom was in their hands now.


    Vera stepped forward from the crowd, arms crossed. "You better come back in one piece, Your Majesty," she said, her voice gruff but warm. "This place wouldn''t be the same without you."


    Riven smirked slightly. "I''ll be back before you know it."


    Mal handed him the teleportation scrolls, his usual smirk absent. "The first will drop you near Solis territory, but not inside. You''ll need to cross the city gates yourselves."


    Riven took the scrolls and slipped them into his cloak. "That won''t be a problem."


    Krux let out a dramatic sigh. "Fine, go off and have your secret academy adventures while we''re stuck here doing all the work."


    Nyx rolled her eyes. "Don''t get soft on me, Krux."


    Krux grumbled but still stepped forward. "Be careful, alright?" He hesitated for just a second before clapping Riven on the back. "We''ll be waiting."


    Riven inclined his head. "I know."


    He turned to face his people. Thousands of them. Warriors. Workers. Merchants. Survivors. Families. The foundation of his kingdom.


    He had built all of this in mere months.


    And when he returned, it would be even stronger.


    "I leave the Shadow Kingdom in your hands," he said, voice carrying through the cold night air. "Protect it. Build it. Strengthen it."


    A chorus of murmured affirmations swept through the crowd.


    Then, with a flick of his wrist, he activated the teleportation scroll.


    Dark energy coiled around him and Nyx, swallowing them whole.


    And in the next breath, they were gone.

 Chapter 85 - 85: How’s your leg?

    The world lurched.


    A twisting sensation coiled through Riven''s body, a pull so sudden and absolute that for a brief moment, his mind disconnected from reality. Then, with a rush of displaced air and the scent of damp earth, the teleportation completed.


    He and Nyx materialized just beyond the outer gates of the Solis Kingdom.


    The landscape around them was familiar¡ªrolling hills blanketed in the dim hues of pre-dawn, the towering stone walls of the capital looming in the distance. The scent of damp stone and freshly cut grass filled the air, mingling with the faint trace of burnt mana left from the teleportation spell.


    Nyx adjusted instantly, rolling her neck and stretching. "Smooth landing," she mused, adjusting her cloak. "I half-expected Mal to drop us in the middle of a swamp."


    "Don''t give him ideas," Riven muttered as he straightened his posture, scanning their surroundings.


    They were positioned near a trade road leading directly to Solis''s southern gates¡ªa well-worn path often used by students, merchants, and researchers alike. It was the perfect place to blend in.


    Nyx smirked. "You''re sure this is going to work?"


    "It has to," Riven replied. "If we act like we belong, they won''t question us."


    As he spoke, he adjusted the academy robes he wore, ensuring the embroidered insignia on his chest was clearly visible.


    But just in case, he pulled up his hood, ensuring that the upper half of his face remained obscured.


    Nyx did the same, pulling her hood low.


    Together, they approached the city gates.


    The outer gates of Solis were manned by heavily armored guards, their silver-plated uniforms gleaming beneath the torchlight. Even at this early hour, the city''s entrance was a hive of activity¡ªmerchants were already lining up with carts, while scholars and noble envoys presented their documents for passage.


    Riven and Nyx walked with purpose, blending seamlessly into the flow of students returning from field research.


    As they neared the checkpoint, one of the guards¡ªa tall man with a thick beard and an eagle-insignia crest on his shoulder¡ªlifted a hand, stopping them.


    "Academy business?" the guard asked, his tone formal but uninterested.


    Riven nodded, shifting slightly to ensure his insignia was visible. "Field research," he said simply, his voice even. "We were given leave to study external mana sources."


    The guard barely glanced at him before nodding. "You''re late. Others returned last night."


    "Extended observations," Nyx added smoothly, her voice light but firm.


    The guard grunted, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studied them both. "Third-year?"


    Riven nodded once. A lie.


    The man exhaled, waving them through. "Don''t cause trouble."


    Just like that, they were inside.


    The capital of Solis stretched before them, its wide streets and towering spires bathed in the soft hues of dawn. Even at this hour, the city never truly slept¡ªguards patrolled the pathways, merchants set up their stalls, and students in Academy robes moved in small groups toward their morning lessons.


    Nyx exhaled, her amusement evident. "That was almost too easy."


    Riven smirked. "Technically, I am a student." He glanced at Nyx. "You, on the other hand¡­"


    Nyx grinned. "Won''t be able to say the same for long!"


    Instead of heading toward the main gates of the Academy, they took a side path¡ªone lined with ivy-covered walls and shadowed alleyways. This route led them toward a partially collapsed section of the outer wall, the very one they had used to escape months ago.


    Riven ran a hand over the cracks, inspecting the damage. No repairs had been made¡ªit seemed the Academy still hadn''t discovered it.


    Nyx gave him a pointed look. "After you, my king."


    He rolled his eyes before slipping through the gap, the damp stone brushing against his academy cloak. The cool night air clung to him as he moved swiftly, his footsteps soundless against the worn path.


    The moment Nyx stepped through behind him, she pressed a hand to her chest. Her form wavered, dark tendrils curling around her body before she melted seamlessly into shadow. In an instant, she vanished¡ªher essence retreating into Riven''s own, merging with the darkness beneath his feet.


    The weight of her presence added to the strain already weighing on his mana reserves, but he pushed forward without hesitation.


    There was no time to rest.


    By now, navigating the Academy grounds without drawing attention was second nature to Riven. His boots moved soundlessly over the polished stone as he entered the library, effortlessly ascending the steps to the second floor, where the secluded training rooms¡ªand his shadow clone¡ªawaited.


    Riven exhaled as he scanned his talisman and stepped into the training room, allowing the heavy wooden door to shut behind him with a soft click. The air inside was thick with lingering mana, the faint hum of enchantments woven into the very walls ensuring that no sound would escape beyond these chambers.


    His shadow clone stood near the far wall, arms crossed, wearing the same smug expression Riven himself often did. "You actually came back," the clone drawled, tilting its head. "For a while there, I thought you had finally decided to rule your little kingdom instead of playing student."


    Riven barely spared it a glance before raising his hand. Shadows curled from his fingertips, abyssal energy surging as he severed the connection.


    The clone''s smirk remained even as its body unraveled into wisps of darkness. "Try not to die out there¡ª" it murmured before dissolving completely.


    The moment the tether was severed, a noticeable weight lifted from Riven''s mind. The constant drain of sustaining his shadow clone vanished, easing some of the pressure on his mana reserves. Though the strain of maintaining his twenty undead warriors back in the Shadow Kingdom remained, the relief was tangible¡ªit wasn''t much, but it was enough.


    Sana remained silent near the center of the room, blindfolded but as perceptive as ever. "Your return was well-timed, Master," she said, her tone measured. "The rumors have reached their peak."


    Riven''s expression didn''t shift. "What are they saying?"


    Sana clasped her hands behind her back. "Many believe you''ve been hiding since the royal summons," she said. "They assume you''re afraid. That you lost favor with the King and have been avoiding the public eye out of shame."


    Riven scoffed. "Predictable."


    "They also believe," she continued, tilting her head, "that your strength has deteriorated. No one has seen you fight since your last duel. You have issued no challenges, taken no missions, participated in no training. Some whisper that the King found you lacking¡­ that you were never as powerful as they once believed."


    A slow smirk tugged at the corner of Riven''s lips. "Good."


    Sana hesitated. "You wanted them to believe this?"


    His eyes gleamed. "Of course."


    Perception was everything in the Academy. If people believed he had fallen, they would underestimate him. And that would make their eventual realization all the more satisfying.


    A ripple of darkness coiled beneath Riven''s feet, shadows twisting unnaturally before stretching upward. Within seconds, Nyx emerged, her form seamlessly materializing beside him as if she had always been there.


    Her dark eyes gleamed with amusement. "You''re actually enjoying this."


    Riven shot her a sideways glance, but the smirk tugging at the corner of his lips betrayed him. "I don''t know what you''re talking about."


    Nyx arched an eyebrow, but didn''t push. Instead, she turned to Sana, who remained unfazed by her sudden appearance.


    Sana inclined her head slightly, as if sensing the shift in their dynamic. "Her documents are prepared."


    Sana turned smoothly, retrieving a neatly folded Academy uniform and an enchanted talisman from a nearby table. She set them before Riven and Nyx with precise movements. "Nyx Draviel. Second-year student. Field of study: Tactical Combat and Strategy."


    Riven arched an eyebrow. "Draviel?"


    Sana inclined her head. "It''s the name of an old noble house that I managed to find from old records."


    Nyx snorted, lifting the uniform with a scrutinizing gaze. "Well, at least they have some taste."


    Riven gave her a pointed look. "Hurry up."


    With an exaggerated sigh, Nyx disappeared into a side chamber, and within minutes, she reemerged, adjusting the soft black robes and fastening the talisman around her wrist. The fabric fit well, the Academy insignia stitched elegantly over the left breast.


    Nyx spun once with a smirk. "Do I look like an innocent, hardworking student?"


    Riven gave her a flat look. "You look like trouble."


    Nyx grinned. "Perfect."


    With her disguise secured, there was nothing left to delay them. They slipped out of the training room, merging seamlessly into the academy corridors. The quiet hum of activity had already begun¡ªthe morning rush of students filtering toward their respective classes, instructors overseeing study groups, and the occasional noble-born laughing a little too loudly in self-importance.


    It didn''t take long for the whispers to begin.


    The moment they passed through the second-year marketplace district, the weight of unspoken words settled around them like a thick fog.


    "He''s back?"


    "I thought he was hiding."


    "So the King really did abandon him¡­"


    Riven kept his expression carefully neutral, walking with the same effortless confidence he always had. Nyx, beside him, barely contained her amusement at the murmurs trailing in their wake.


    The deeper they went, the more incredulous the whispers became.


    "He''s actually showing up for the duel?"


    "I thought he''d forfeit."


    "Guess he has a death wish."


    Nyx tilted her head slightly in Riven''s direction. ''So they really think you''ve grown weak?''


    ''They''re about to find out otherwise,'' Riven mused, his smirk barely visible.


    The murmurs hit a fever pitch when they finally approached the training grounds. A sizable crowd had gathered around the dueling platform, eager to witness the supposed downfall of the once-feared student.


    And at the center of it all stood a familiar figure.


    Cole Drakar.


    Riven''s half-brother.


    The moment he laid eyes on him, something cold and ancient settled in Riven''s chest.


    Cole stood tall, his stance exuding effortless authority. He was dressed in elite combat robes, the insignia of the Drakar family embroidered in red thread.


    Their eyes met briefly. Cole smirked.


    "Well, well," he mused, arms crossed. "You actually showed up."


    The crowd went silent, all eyes flicking between the two brothers.


    Riven''s lips curled into a slow, dangerous smile.


    "I wouldn''t miss it."


    The training grounds was thick with anticipation, the weight of countless eyes pressing down on the two brothers. The murmurs had died down, replaced by an expectant silence as Cole and Riven made their way to the dueling platform.


    Cole''s smirk widened, his dark red eyes gleaming with confidence. "You''ve been hiding for a while now, little brother. I was beginning to think you''d never crawl out of whatever hole you''ve been licking your wounds in."


    Riven chuckled, tilting his head. "Hiding? No, I''ve been training, brother." His smirk widened. "Though I am surprised you challenged me¡ªconsidering the last time we fought, you were the one left beaten and bloody.


    Cole''s expression darkened for the briefest of moments¡ªso quick that only someone who knew him as well as Riven did would have caught it. The humiliation from their last fight, the sheer, undeniable defeat¡ªhe hadn''t forgotten.


    Riven''s smirk deepened. "I wonder, has your leg healed yet?"


    A few gasps rippled through the audience.


    Cole exhaled slowly through his nose, schooling his expression back into something more composed. "That was before."


    His mana flared.


    A powerful surge of fire magic burst from his body, the sheer intensity of it warping the air around him. The heat was oppressive, searing against the stone platform beneath their feet.


    Riven''s eyes gleamed as he felt the shift.


    Cole wasn''t bluffing, he had gotten stronger.


    Cole cracked his knuckles, the fire mana around him coiling like a living thing. "While you''ve been playing ghost, I''ve been training," he said, voice laced with condescension. "The Riven I fought before¡ªhe was barely worth my time. But you? The version standing in front of me now?" He scoffed. "You''re even weaker than before."


    More whispers spread through the crowd. Some students were nodding along, their expressions shifting into something more expectant.


    "He''s right," one muttered. "Riven hasn''t done anything in months."


    "I heard he even ran away from the royal summons," another whispered. "Guess the King really did throw him aside."


    A slow smirk curled Cole''s lips as he saw the way the narrative was playing in his favor. "I should thank you," he said, his fire mana pulsing stronger. "Because now, I get to put you back in your place. In front of everyone."


    Riven sighed, cracking his neck. "You talk too much."


    Cole''s expression twisted into a sneer. "We''ll see if you can still talk after I burn you to ash."


    The overseeing elder stepped forward, raising a hand. "Both duelists¡ªprepare yourselves."


    The barrier around the dueling platform shimmered into place, golden runes igniting across its surface. The elders had reinforced the containment field more than usual¡ªeither they were being cautious, or they had been warned about the intensity of this fight. sea??h th§× N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Riven didn''t care.


    He rolled his shoulders, letting his abyssal fire simmer beneath the surface. His shadows pulsed, eager, restless.


    Cole took his stance, his smirk unwavering. "Let''s see if you''ve learned anything at all."


    The elder''s voice rang out clear and sharp.


    "Begin."

 Chapter 86 - 86: Riven vs Cole

    The moment the elder''s voice rang out, the tension snapped.


    Cole moved first.


    Fire erupted from his palms, roaring to life in three spiraling lances. They shot forward at blistering speed, twisting through the air like spears of molten destruction.


    Riven barely twitched.


    His abyssal flames pulsed to life, flickering in the depths of his shadow before rising to his fingertips. With a flick of his wrist, tendrils of dark fire surged forth.


    The moment the fire lances met his abyssal flames, they vanished.


    Not dissipated.


    Not countered.


    Devoured.


    A hush fell over the crowd.


    Riven''s lips curled into a lazy smirk. "That all?"


    Cole''s crimson eyes darkened. Without hesitation, he lunged, his mana surging violently.


    The stone beneath his feet cracked as he shot forward, fire bursting from his limbs to propel him. His fist, wreathed in explosive flames, cut through the air, aiming for Riven''s ribs.


    Riven didn''t move until the last moment.


    Then¡ªhe sidestepped.


    Effortless. Precise.


    Cole''s fist burned through empty space, missing by mere inches.


    His frustration flared, and he spun¡ªbringing his other fist up in a sharp arc, flames roaring.


    Riven ducked.


    The heat licked at his skin, but he was already countering.


    His knee shot up.


    Cole''s ribs met his strike, a rush of air escaping his lungs in a sharp gasp. He barely had time to process it before¡ª


    Crack.


    Riven''s elbow slammed into his jaw.


    The force sent Cole skidding backward, his feet barely finding purchase on the stone platform.


    Gasps rippled through the crowd.


    "That speed¡ª"


    "What just happened?"


    Cole wiped a trickle of blood from his lip, his mana flaring violently. He snarled, his frustration boiling over. "You¡ª"


    Riven exhaled, brushing dust from his sleeve. "Come on, Cole. You challenged me for this?" Abyssal fire crackled lazily around his fingertips. "I was hoping you''d at least try."


    Cole''s mana spiked.


    Then¡ªthe entire dueling platform ignited.


    A wave of searing heat erupted from his body, engulfing everything in a raging inferno. The golden runes along the containment barrier pulsed violently, struggling to hold back the sheer force of his mana.


    The heat was suffocating.


    A student near the front stumbled back, shielding their face. "Shit¡ª"


    "He''s serious¡ª"


    Even the elders overseeing the match shifted slightly.


    At the heart of the inferno, Cole stood tall, his flames coiling around him like living entities. His breathing was steady, controlled. The arrogance in his smirk had sharpened into something more dangerous.


    "I''ve been waiting for this," Cole said, his voice a low growl. "I''ve spent months refining my control, pushing my flames beyond anything you''ve seen."


    The fire around him pulsed¡ªthen compressed.


    The once-wild flames tightened, forming concentrated rings of white-hot fire that hovered around his body like chained serpents.


    "This¡ª" Cole''s eyes burned, his aura flaring. "¡ªis real fire magic."


    Riven''s gaze flickered over the refined flames, his smirk never wavering. "Not bad."


    Cole''s smirk widened. "Let''s see how well your eerie flames hold up."


    Then¡ªhe moved.


    Faster than before.


    The flames coiling around him shot outward, twisting into massive arcs of white-hot destruction. At the same time, Cole closed the distance, his fists wreathed in burning rings.


    The air trembled.


    Riven''s smirk vanished.


    He moved.


    Shadows twisted beneath him, boosting his speed as he weaved through the first arc of fire. The heat scorched the fabric of his cloak, but he was already countering.


    His Crimson Mirage activated.


    Heat distorted the air, creating afterimages of him.


    Cole''s eyes narrowed as his fist smashed through an illusion, hitting nothing.


    "Damn it¡ª"


    Riven appeared behind him.


    Abyssal flames roared to life in his palm.


    Cole barely had time to react before Riven''s palm slammed into his back.


    Scorching Chain.


    Flaming chains exploded from Riven''s hand, wrapping around Cole''s body like a vice. The moment they locked in place, they ignited.


    BOOM.


    Cole screamed.


    The abyssal fire didn''t just burn¡ªit ate.


    His mana, his heat¡ªit was all being consumed.


    But Cole wasn''t done yet.


    He roared, his flames detonating outward, shattering the chains in a violent explosion.


    The shockwave sent Riven skidding back¡ªbut he was already prepared. His Ember Cloak activated. Fire coiled around him like living armor, reinforcing his body, his movements.


    Cole charged again.


    This time, his entire arm ignited in a concentrated spiral of compressed flames. The temperature spiked, the very air distorting from the sheer heat.


    His fist shot forward and Riven met him head-on.


    Abyssal Flame erupted.


    Their fists collided.


    The moment they made contact¡ª


    BOOM.


    A shockwave tore through the dueling grounds.


    The fire spiral shattered and Cole staggered back, coughing, his eyes wide with shock.


    Riven stood firm.


    His dark flames licked at his skin, pulsing with raw, insatiable hunger.


    Cole clenched his teeth. "What the hell are you?"


    Riven tilted his head slightly, flexing his fingers as the last remnants of fire flickered along his knuckles. His voice was almost bored. "Did you really think I''ve been wasting my time these past few months? That I was just sitting around, doing nothing?" He exhaled, giving Cole a slow, deliberate once-over, his smirk curling at the edges. "And here I thought you had been working so hard." His tone turned mockingly sympathetic. "What a shame. Father''s going to be so disappointed."


    Cole''s aura flared in response, his frustration boiling over. He lunged again, this time pouring everything into a final, desperate attack.


    A magic circle ignited in front of his outstretched palms.


    The golden runes along the barrier pulsed frantically, as if the sheer concentration of mana was too much.


    The ground rumbled. S~ea??h the n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The heat spiked dangerously.


    The flames spiraling around Cole''s limbs compressed, condensing into a sphere of pure destruction.


    Gasps rippled through the crowd.


    "Is that¡ª?"


    "He''s using Hellfire Collapse¡ª"


    "He''s going to kill him¡ª!"


    The elders tensed at the edge of the arena, their hands subtly raised, prepared to intervene.


    Cole grinned wildly, sweat dripping down his brow, his body barely holding together from the sheer force of his own spell. "Let''s see if your creepy flames can eat this, Riven¡ªHellfire Collapse!"


    He threw it.


    A spinning sphere of devastation tore through the air, its sheer heat warping space itself. The moment it left his hands, the stone beneath him shattered.


    Riven¡­ sighed.


    Then he raised his hand.


    Abyssal fire coiled.


    The flames at his fingertips twisted, condensing into a single, razor-thin beam.


    Infernal Burst.


    The moment the black fire met the Hellfire, the abyssal power cut through it, devouring it from the inside out, swallowing the condensed mana whole.


    Then¡ªsilence.


    Cole staggered, breath ragged. His flames¡ªgone.


    The arena stood still.


    The crowd, the elders, the students¡ªeveryone stared.


    Riven took a step forward.


    Cole flinched.


    For the first time, true fear flickered across his brother''s face.


    Riven leaned in slightly, his dark eyes gleaming. "Still think I''ve been hiding, brother?"


    A wild, almost fanatic grin stretched across Riven''s face as he stood over Cole, the black fire still smoldering at his fingertips. Cole''s chest heaved, his limbs trembling as he struggled to push himself upright, his pupils shaking with fear.


    Riven tilted his head, his gaze sharp, unrelenting. "Don''t provoke me again."


    The weight of his voice pressed down on Cole, his words laced with a chilling authority that seeped into the very air around them.


    Cole barely had time to inhale before Riven''s foot slammed into his chest.


    The force of the kick sent him hurtling backward, his body crashing into the barrier with a sickening thud before he collapsed in a heap on the stone floor.


    A heartbeat of silence.


    Then the elder''s voice rang out. "Victor¡ªRiven Drakar."


    The announcement of Riven''s victory barely registered as the dueling ground shook with the weight of the spectators'' reactions. The sheer contrast between expectation and reality had left them reeling. The noble heirs who had once whispered of his weakness now gaped in stunned silence. The ones who had mocked his absence now struggled to comprehend what they had just witnessed.


    The name Riven Drakar no longer carried the taint of disgrace.


    It carried fear.


    Cole lay sprawled where he had fallen, his chest heaving, eyes wide as the echoes of battle still pulsed through the air. His body trembled¡ªnot just from pain, but from the sheer realization of how outclassed he truly was. This wasn''t the same fight as before. This wasn''t the same brother he had tormented for years.


    He had never stood a chance.


    Riven exhaled, flexing his hands as the last wisps of fire dissipated from his fingertips. The heat of the duel still clung to his skin, but he remained unbothered, his breathing as steady as if this had all been a mere exercise.


    Nyx, who had been watching from the shadows beyond the arena, grinned as she leaned against the stone railing, utterly unphased by the battle''s outcome. ''Pathetic,'' she thought, her sharp gaze flickering over Cole''s broken form. ''All that talk, all that fire¡ªyet it took only minutes for him to fall.''


    Cole groaned, stirring slightly, his pride far more shattered than his body. He barely managed to lift his head before Riven crouched beside him, voice low enough for only him to hear.


    "I warned you."


    Cole flinched, his hands curling into fists against the ground, but he didn''t speak. He couldn''t.


    Because he knew¡ªthis was over.


    Riven sighed, standing once more before casting a glance toward the rest of the stunned crowd. His gaze swept across the noble heirs, the instructors, the ones who had whispered of his downfall.


    "I hope you all enjoyed the show," he said, voice eerily calm, yet dripping with amusement.


    No one responded.


    Not a single person dared.


    As Riven stepped off the dueling platform, the weight of a hundred eyes followed him, but he paid them no mind. The fear, the shock, the whispers that would spread in the coming days¡ªnone of it mattered. He had made his point.


    Nyx fell into step beside him, hands tucked into her robes. "That was entertaining," she mused. "Though, I half expected you to kill him at the end."


    Riven gave her a sideways glance. "Too many eyes."


    Nyx scoffed and then grumbled. "I still think you should of done it."


    He smirked but didn''t argue. Instead, his hand dipped into his robes, withdrawing a pouch of mana cores. Without stopping, he passed it to her.


    Nyx raised an eyebrow as she took it, feeling the weight. "What''s this?"


    "Entry fee," he said. "Get into the mana beast island and bring back as many cores as you can. The higher the tier, the better."


    Nyx whistled, tucking the pouch away. "Planning to drain the Academy''s best hunting ground dry?"


    Riven''s expression was unreadable. "I''ll be busy elsewhere. I need you to cover for me."


    Nyx tilted her head slightly, studying him. "Where are you going?"


    He didn''t answer immediately. Then, with an exhale, he glanced at her. "Elara summoned me."


    That was enough to make Nyx''s expression shift into something more serious. "The Archmage?"


    He nodded.


    Nyx hummed, then shrugged. "You want me nearby?"


    "No," he said. "It''s better if I go alone."


    She studied him for a moment longer before nodding. "Fine. Try not to cause too much trouble ¡ª I don''t want to miss out."


    With that, she veered off, heading toward the marketplace district where entry permits for the mana beast island were handled. Riven continued forward, his path leading him toward the towering structure of the Archmage''s chambers.


    ¡ªx¡ª


    The halls of the upper academy were eerily silent when Riven arrived at the door he was guided to. A student passing through would have assumed this part of the academy was empty, but he knew better.


    The door to Archmage Elara''s study opened before he could knock.


    Stepping inside, Riven took in the vast chamber. Unlike the grand halls of the Academy, Elara''s domain was quiet, refined¡ªlined with towering bookshelves, floating sigils casting soft, ambient light. The air was thick with mana, an almost tangible force that pressed against the skin.


    At the center of it all, Elara sat behind a curved desk, quill in hand, as if he were no more than a minor appointment in her day. Her robes, deep violet and embroidered with runic patterns, shimmered faintly in the dim light.


    "You certainly know how to make a comeback, Riven," she said without looking up.


    He smiled faintly. "I like to keep things interesting."


    Elara set her quill down and finally met his gaze. Her expression was unreadable, sharp violet eyes assessing him in a way that always felt more intrusive than it should.


    "Tell me," she said, folding her hands together. "How have you been since the royal summons?"


    Riven didn''t flinch. "Fine."


    Her lips curled slightly. "That''s all? I would have expected a more detailed response, considering the rumours."


    Riven''s gaze didn''t waver. "Rumours are just rumours."


    "What do you know about the Shadow Kingdom?" Elara asked abruptly.


    For the briefest fraction of a second, Riven stilled. A flicker of something unreadable passed through his abyssal eyes before his expression smoothed over, slipping effortlessly back into one of practiced indifference¡ªcalm, almost bored.


    Silence stretched between them.


    Elara leaned back slightly. "You seemed composed until now," she observed. "Tell me, Riven¡ªwhy does the mention of a fallen kingdom make you pause?"


    His response was careful. "It doesn''t. I was just wondering why you''re asking."


    Elara tilted her head slightly, the glow of her sigils casting sharp shadows across her face. "Because the Shadow Kingdom has been dead for over a decade," she said. "Yet, recently, merchants and explorers alike have returned with¡­ unusual stories. Land that should have been barren is thriving. Roads once abandoned are being cleared. And trade routes¡ªones thought lost¡ªhave begun to stir again."


    She let the words settle before continuing. "Tell me, Riven. Do you know anything about this?"


    Riven exhaled softly, his mind already calculating.


    He met her gaze, his voice even. "Should I?"


    Elara studied him in silence, her violet eyes sharp, dissecting. The weight of her gaze felt like a scalpel, peeling back layers in search of something hidden.


    Riven didn''t flinch.


    His expression remained composed, his posture unbothered, but inside, calculations whirred. She had given him too much information upfront. That was unlike her. Was she testing him? Fishing for a reaction? Or was this something more?


    "You tell me," she finally said, her voice smooth, deliberate. "Should you?"


    Riven exhaled, a quiet amusement lacing his tone. "You say that as if I''ve set foot anywhere beyond the Academy walls lately." He tilted his head slightly, his smirk lazy. "Do you really think I have the time to go gallivanting across some long-dead wasteland?"


    Elara''s lips curled, her expression unreadable. "A rather absurd notion."


    "Isn''t it?" Riven echoed smoothly, his gaze steady, unbothered.


    A slow, charged silence filled the room. The soft flicker of floating runes cast shifting shadows across Elara''s face, accentuating her calm scrutiny. She was waiting for something.


    Riven leaned back in his chair, feigning thoughtfulness. "I suppose it is odd, though," he mused, tilting his head slightly. "I heard that the Shadow Kingdom was salted. Nothing should grow there."


    Elara tapped a single finger against the polished wood of her desk. "That''s what the scholars have always said."


    "Scholars are often wrong," Riven remarked smoothly.


    "Mm," she hummed. "And yet, some things defy explanation."


    Riven kept his smirk in place, but he could feel the direction this conversation was tilting. She didn''t know. Not yet. But she suspected.


    Which meant this was dangerous ground.


    Elara exhaled, reclining slightly in her chair. "You''re surprisingly calm for someone who''s been accused of isolating himself in a training hall for months," she remarked. "Most students in your position would be quick to refute such claims."


    Riven offered a small, almost amused shrug. "I find it''s often easier to let people believe what they wish."


    Her lips curved faintly, a hint of amusement in her gaze. "You could just say the truth ¡ª that you could care less what people think."


    He tilted his head, watching her. "Is that why I''m here? To be questioned about rumors?"


    Elara regarded him for a moment before exhaling softly. "No," she admitted. "I was merely¡­ curious."


    That was a lie.


    Riven knew it the moment she said it.


    Curiosity alone wouldn''t bring him here. Not when she was one of the few people in the Academy who truly understood how the political tides moved. No, this was something deeper.


    Something personal.


    But he didn''t press.


    Instead, he exhaled lightly. "Well," he said, standing, "I hope I''ve satisfied that curiosity."


    Elara watched him rise but didn''t stop him. She didn''t call his bluff or try to push further. Instead, she merely inclined her head slightly, her gaze still assessing, still dissecting.


    "For now."


    Riven smiled. "Good."


    Elara''s gaze didn''t waver as she watched him, something unreadable flickering behind her violet eyes. Then, after a beat of silence, she leaned forward, folding her hands atop her desk.


    "I''ve delayed it long enough," she said, her voice carrying an unusual finality. "Starting tomorrow, we begin your lessons."


    Riven raised an eyebrow. "Have we not already?"


    Elara exhaled, shaking her head slightly. "No. What we''ve had so far have been conversations, observations. Now, I want to see your capabilities firsthand." She tilted her head slightly. "I want to see how far I can push you."


    A hum of interest rumbled in Riven''s chest. "That eager to mold me into something more?"


    Elara''s lips curled faintly, but there was no amusement in her expression¡ªonly certainty. "No, Riven," she said. "I want to see how much you can truly become."


    For a moment, silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken meaning.


    Then, she reached into her desk, pulling out a small, intricately carved silver pendant. She placed it on the polished surface between them. "Meet me at the Market District at dawn," she instructed. "Wear this when you do."


    Riven picked up the pendant, running his fingers over the faint inscriptions. A concealment rune. Temporary, but powerful enough to suppress certain aspects of his mana signature.


    Interesting.


    He met her gaze once more, the corner of his lips twitching slightly. "Planning something, Archmage?"


    Elara smirked. "Always."


    Riven exhaled softly, pocketing the pendant before turning toward the door. "Very well," he said over his shoulder. "I''ll see you at dawn."


    As he stepped out, he could feel her gaze lingering on his back, the weight of her expectations settling over him.


    He had piqued her interest.


    Now, it was time to see just how far she was willing to take him.

 Chapter 87 - 87: A Tattoo?

    The night was thick with silence as Riven sat cross-legged in his dorm room, the dim glow of abyssal fire flickering faintly around his skin. His breathing was slow, controlled, as his consciousness stretched outward, reaching across the vast distance between him and his kingdom.


    His bonded necromancers were his eyes in the Shadow Kingdom, their presence flickering through his mana like distant embers. Riven cast his awareness through the connections, skimming their perspectives with practiced ease.


    The eastern ridge stood strong, fortified under Damon''s oversight, while Alric ensured the outer defenses expanded swiftly.


    Near the barracks, Varian and Haleth guided new recruits, their training in dark mana already showing results.


    The Abyss-Touched Fields flourished under Benedict''s and Mal''s careful cultivation, with new herbs taking root¡ªunstable, yet brimming with potential.


    Everything was proceeding as expected.


    Satisfied, Riven withdrew his focus, his awareness snapping back to the present.


    The kingdom was expanding faster than he had anticipated.


    Good.


    He rose to his feet.


    Then¡ª


    BANG.


    The door slammed open.


    Nyx strode inside, covered in dried blood and dirt, her dark hair matted to her forehead, her robes tattered in places. A heavy satchel thudded onto the floor, its contents clinking ominously.


    Riven arched a brow, arms crossing as he leaned against his desk. "Rough night?"


    Nyx exhaled sharply, dragging a hand through her hair. "Not all of us get to sit in dark rooms looking ominous while their minions handle everything." She tossed him a mana beast core¡ªdeep crimson, pulsing with latent heat. "That''s an epic ¡ª got a few of those. The rest are lower, but still good."


    Riven caught the core with a smirk, rolling it between his fingers. "And here I thought you were taking it easy."


    Nyx scowled. "Easy? Some of those bastards wouldn''t die." She peeled off her tattered outer robe, revealing deep claw marks along her forearm, already healing thanks to her mana. "Took me half the night to track a pack of firestalkers. One of them tried to rip my face off."


    Riven hummed, inspecting her wounds. "Looks like it failed."


    Nyx smirked. "Obviously."


    She plopped down into a chair, stretching with a groan. "The primordial wilds island''s mostly cleared on the western side, but the stronger ones are deeper in. We should go together again, I know you love it¡ªlots of things screaming before they die."


    Riven chuckled, setting the mana core on the desk. "Appreciate the work. These will be useful."


    Nyx sighed, running a hand through her hair again, then frowned. "You''re looking too pleased with yourself. What''s going on?"


    Before Riven could respond¡ª


    His inventory pulsed.


    A soft tremor shivered through his mana reserves.


    Then¡ª


    The dragon egg trembled.


    A slow, rhythmic vibration. Subtle at first, but growing.


    Riven''s amusement faded, his focus sharpening as he reached into the abyssal void of his storage and pulled out the Obsidian Dragon Egg.


    The moment it materialized in his hands, a wave of burning heat spread through his palms. The egg shuddered violently, the thick veins along its dark surface glowing once more¡ªdeeper this time, pulsing with an eerie, blue-black light.


    Nyx stiffened. "Since when does that thing move?"


    Riven didn''t answer immediately. He had expected some reaction from the egg eventually¡ªperhaps when he left the Academy, or when he reached a higher Circle¡ªbut not so soon.


    Not again.


    The first time had drained him nearly dry.


    And yet, here it was.


    Demanding more.


    The egg pulsed in his grip, and this time, Riven felt it. The air grew thick with something unseen¡ªan almost palpable presence pressing against Riven''s senses. It was neither physical nor wholly magical, but something in between, a quiet, creeping awareness that coiled around him like unseen chains.


    Watching. Waiting. Wanting.


    The intent was impossible to ignore. A silent, almost insatiable hunger laced the space between him and the trembling obsidian shell, its veins pulsing like a living heartbeat.


    His eyes narrowed. "System."


    [[ Analyzing¡­ ]]


    A hum. Faint at first. Barely distinguishable from the air itself. But as seconds stretched, the sound deepened, vibrating through the very mana of the room. It wasn''t an external noise¡ªit resonated inside him, from the abyssal depths of his own energy.


    A whisper of something primal.


    The system''s response flickered into existence.


    [[ The Egg is responding to accumulated combat stimuli. Recent battles have triggered another progression phase. ]]


    [[ The Egg is attempting to establish the next Bond Link. ]]


    Bond link? Riven hadn''t seen that before.


    Riven''s fingers curled around the shell. The fight with Cole. The tension, the mana, the sheer force of his abyssal power¡ªhis bloodlust.


    The egg had fed on that.


    And now, it was awakening again.


    [[ Mana Exchange Required: 70% of Total Reserves. ]]


    Riven clenched his jaw. That was almost everything he had. Again. Fortunately, he had taken a stash of Etherbloom mana potions from Mal''s tent before leaving. With those, replenishing his reserves would be a simple matter.


    "Are you going to tell me why the egg is glowing like that?" Nyx asked, standing now, her arms crossed as she studied the egg with open suspicion.


    Riven debated his response for a fraction of a second before exhaling sharply. "It wants my mana."


    Nyx''s brows shot up. "It wants your¡ªRiven, that thing already nearly drained you last time. If you keep feeding it, it''s going to suck you dry."


    His grip on the egg tightened slightly. "It''s a Dragon Egg, Nyx." His gaze flicked to her, unwavering. "Even if feeding it blood would make it hatch¡ªmine, yours¡ªI wouldn''t hesitate."


    Nyx took an instinctive step back, eyeing him warily. "Yeah¡­ let''s not start getting any crazy ideas."


    Riven''s gaze fell back on the trembling egg. The pulsing energy it gave off was stronger this time¡ªmore insistent. Last time, he had been unprepared, caught off guard by the force of the exchange. This time, he knew what to expect. Sear?h the Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    He exhaled slowly, settling onto the floor. His fingers traced the dark veins threading across the egg''s surface, feeling the heat thrumming beneath.


    He closed his eyes, reaching into the abyss of his mana reserves. Shadows curled around his fingers as he let his energy flow, allowing the egg to take what it needed.


    [[ Commencing Mana Exchange¡­ ]]


    The moment the transfer began, a sharp pull wrenched through his mana heart. The egg didn''t just drink from him¡ªit devoured.


    Heat flared, rushing through his arms, his chest, coiling along his spine. His breath hitched as his mana flooded into the shell, siphoned in greedy waves. The sensation was familiar, but this time, it burned deeper, reaching into something beyond his reserves.


    The egg pulsed.


    Once. Twice.


    Then¡ªa low, guttural vibration echoed in the room.


    Not a sound.


    A presence.


    A whisper of something vast, something ancient. It brushed against the edges of his mind, stirring something deep within his abyssal flames.


    Riven''s vision wavered.


    [[ Mana Reserves: 50%¡­ ]]


    [[ Mana Reserves: 40%¡­ ]]


    The room felt smaller, the air thick with unseen weight. The egg trembled violently in his hands, the veins along its surface expanding, deepening, glowing with a dark sapphire hue.


    [[ Mana Reserves: 30%¡­ ]]


    A final surge.


    Then¡ªsilence.


    The exchange stopped as abruptly as it had begun.


    Riven gasped, his body swaying as the weight of the depletion settled over him. His limbs trembled, his breath unsteady, but he forced himself upright.


    A flicker of blue-black light danced across the egg''s surface before fading.


    [[ Bond Link Established: 2/10 ]]


    [[ The Obsidian Dragon recognizes you. ]]


    Riven barely had time to process the words before something burned.


    A sharp, searing heat flared across his back.


    He stiffened, a curse slipping through his teeth as fire licked across his skin, racing up his spine. It wasn''t external¡ªit was inside him, deep, branding itself into his very being.


    "Riven?" Nyx''s voice cut through the haze.


    He barely registered her moving until she was right in front of him, eyes narrowed with a rare hint of concern. "What the hell just happened?"


    He didn''t answer, gripping his robe as the burning intensified. Every breath sent a fresh wave of heat through his nerves. He needed to see.


    Nyx, already picking up on his struggle, stepped forward. "Take it off."


    Riven hesitated for a split second before shrugging off his outer robes, baring his back to the cool night air.


    A sharp inhale.


    "Shit," Nyx muttered.


    Riven turned his head slightly. "What?"


    Nyx''s gaze was locked on his back, her usual sharp composure slipping for just a moment. She reached out, fingertips barely grazing his skin.


    Nyx''s fingers barely brushed against his skin before she pulled back sharply, eyes narrowing. "Riven¡­ what the hell is this?"


    Riven forced himself to take steady breaths, still feeling the ghost of the burning sensation that had laced through his spine. His muscles tensed as he turned his head slightly, trying to catch a glimpse over his shoulder. "What are you talking about?"


    Nyx didn''t answer immediately. Instead, she stepped around him, brows furrowing deeper as her gaze fixated on his back. "You have a tattoo," she said, her voice flat with disbelief.


    Riven stiffened. "I don''t have¡ª" He cut himself off.


    Because now that she mentioned it¡­ he could feel it. A faint, lingering heat, like something seared into his very skin. It hadn''t been there before¡ªnot that he had ever paid much attention¡ªbut now, it was undeniable.


    Nyx exhaled sharply. "You''re telling me you didn''t know about this?"


    Riven didn''t respond right away. Instead, he forced himself to his feet, ignoring the weakness that still clung to his limbs and made his way over to the hanging mirror.


    And there it was.


    Dark lines stretched across his back, intricate yet primal, forming the unmistakable image of a dragon curled around his spine. Its wings fanned out toward his shoulders, talons digging into his flesh. The ink¡ªif it even was ink¡ªwas darker than black, pulsing faintly as if alive.


    Riven''s expression remained unreadable, but inside, his mind was racing. This hadn''t been there before. He was sure of it. Which meant¡ª


    "It appeared after you gave the egg your mana, didn''t it?" Nyx guessed, stepping closer again, her gaze flicking between his back and the now-motionless dragon egg in his hands.


    Riven flexed his fingers around the egg, his jaw tightening. "Looks like it."


    Nyx let out a low whistle, shaking her head. "Damn. This might just be one of the craziest things I''ve seen ¡ª and I''ve seen a lot of crazy shit."


    Riven exhaled slowly, his gaze still locked on the shifting shadows of the mark in the mirror. The dragon inked into his skin wasn''t just decoration. He could feel it, woven into his mana, tethered to something deeper.


    Something waking.


    [[ Bond Link: 2/10 Established. ]]


    The notification still hovered in the corner of his vision. Riven dismissed it with a flick of his thoughts, his focus sharpening.


    This wasn''t just some passive change.


    It was a claim.


    A step closer to whatever the egg was becoming.


    He lightly stretched his limbs, testing the sensation. The heat had faded now, leaving only a faint, lingering awareness¡ªlike the dragon''s presence had settled inside him, waiting.


    Nyx''s gaze flicked toward the egg again. "So? What now? Gonna feed it the rest of your soul while you''re at it?"


    Riven smirked, though there was little humor in it. "Not unless it asks nicely."


    Nyx scoffed but didn''t press further.


    The egg had claimed more of him tonight.


    The question now was¡ªhow much more would it take before it finally hatched?


    And what would come out when it did?

 Chapter 88 - 88: The Gilded Leaf

    Morning came too soon. Riven stirred, blinking against the dim light filtering through the high windows of his dorm. His muscles ached¡ªnot from battle, but from the lingering toll of last night''s mana drain. Even with the Etherbloom mana potions replenishing his reserves, the exhaustion clung to his bones like an old wound.


    And then there was the other issue.


    A weight against his side.


    A slow, warm breath ghosting over his shoulder.


    Riven''s gaze flicked downward.


    Nyx. Sprawled across the bed like she owned it, head thrown back at an awkward angle, limbs splayed out in all directions. She had somehow managed to take up nearly all of the space, despite being half his size.


    And worst of all¡ªhe had told her explicitly to sleep on the floor.


    Yet here she was.


    Without hesitation, Riven lifted a hand and shoved her.


    With a startled yelp, Nyx flailed, the sheets tangling around her as she tumbled over the edge.


    Thud.


    Silence.


    Then¡ª


    "¡­The fuck?"


    Riven stretched lazily, utterly unbothered. "You were snoring."


    A groan of pure suffering came from the floor. "And your first instinct was to throw me?"


    "No, my first instinct was to stab you for drooling on me," Riven said flatly, running a hand through his hair as he swung his legs over the bed.


    He stood, stretching lazily before making his way toward the adjoining bathroom.


    "Be grateful all I did was throw you off."


    A low, murderous grumble came from the floor as Nyx untangled herself from the mess of sheets. "You are so lucky I''m too tired to beat you up."


    Riven scoffed as he splashed cold water onto his face, letting the sharp chill drive away the last remnants of exhaustion. "Lucky? I''m the one who had to suffer through your snoring. You should be apologizing."


    Nyx, now sitting up and rubbing her face, scowled at him through bleary eyes. "I do not snore."


    Riven arched a brow as he reached for a towel. "Oh, you do. Loud enough to make me consider suffocating you in your sleep."


    She let out an offended huff, grabbing a nearby pillow and chucking it at him. Riven caught it without looking, tossing it aside. "Real mature," he muttered.


    Nyx groaned, dragging herself to her feet. "I told you, I was exhausted. And the floor is uncomfortable."


    "My floor is stone."


    "Exactly." She stretched, cracking her neck. "And since I was gracious enough to bring you a bag full of mana beast cores last night, you should have let me take the bed."


    Riven dried his face, unimpressed. "That''s not how this works. I''m your king, remember?"


    Nyx rolled her eyes. "Whatever. Next time, I''m taking your bed and you can sleep on the floor."


    Riven shot her a dry look. "You can try."


    She grinned, smug. "Oh, I will." Sear?h the Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    For a moment, Riven just stared at her, then exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. This¡ªthis constant back and forth, the casual threats, the way Nyx could throw defiance in his face without hesitation¡ªwas something entirely foreign to him.


    He had never had this. Not really.


    His childhood had been spent walking on eggshells, either ignored entirely or used as a target for ridicule. No playful banter, no teasing fights over space or stolen blankets. His sister from his previous life ignored him and his half brother from this life wanted to kill him.


    But this?


    This was different.


    This was what a sibling bond was supposed to be, wasn''t it? Not something laced with hatred or competition, but something comfortable¡ªsomething that didn''t require him to be constantly on guard.


    Not that he would ever say that aloud.


    Instead, Riven just clicked his tongue, adjusting his robes. "We''ll see."


    Nyx only smirked, clearly enjoying herself far too much.


    Shaking his head, Riven finished dressing. He fastened his belt and grabbed the small silver pendant Elara had given him.


    Nyx eyed it, raising a brow. "So, the great Archmage finally decided to start training you, huh?"


    Riven hummed. "Apparently."


    Nyx made a thoughtful noise as she adjusted her own robes. "What do you think she wants?"


    Riven exhaled, slipping the pendant over his head. "To see how much she can push me."


    Nyx smirked. "Sounds fun."


    Riven shot her a look. "For who?"


    Her grin widened. "Me."


    Ignoring her, he fastened his cloak and made his way toward the door, Nyx trailing behind before she shifted in a blur of darkness and settled within his shadow. The halls of the Academy were quiet at this hour, most students still sleeping or just beginning to stir.


    The Market District wasn''t far. Dawn had barely broken, but the city outside was already waking. As they stepped into the crisp morning air, Riven pulled his hood up, the silver pendant pressing cool against his skin.


    Time to see just what Archmage Elara had planned.


    ¡ªx¡ª


    The Market District was already alive with movement by the time Riven arrived.


    He moved through the throng of students with quiet ease, his hood pulled up, concealing his face. He wasn''t in the mood to be recognized¡ªespecially not after his fight with Cole. The last thing he needed was more whispers.


    Beneath his feet, Nyx''s presence was a familiar weight within his shadow, silent and watchful.


    Ahead, near the entrance to one of the larger trade halls, Archmage Elara stood waiting.


    She was impossible to miss.


    Draped in her signature violet robes embroidered with golden runes, she stood with effortless authority, her sharp violet eyes scanning the crowd. Even in a place filled with powerful students and professors, her presence carried an unmistakable weight¡ªone that kept most from approaching too closely.


    Riven adjusted his cloak and made his way toward her.


    The moment he stepped into her field of vision, Elara''s gaze flicked to him. Her expression remained unreadable, but something flickered behind her sharp eyes.


    Anticipation.


    "You''re late," she said smoothly.


    Riven arched a brow. "I''m on time."


    Elara''s lips curved ever so slightly. "And yet, I''ve been waiting."


    Riven didn''t rise to the bait, simply adjusting the pendant she had given him. The concealment enchantment was subtle but strong, suppressing his mana signature just enough to avoid unwanted attention.


    Elara gave him a long, assessing look before tilting her head. "I assume you''re ready?"


    "For what, exactly?" Riven asked. "You were vague about today''s plans."


    Elara''s smile deepened, though it didn''t quite reach her eyes. "We''re leaving the Academy."


    Riven''s expression didn''t shift, but inwardly, his thoughts moved fast.


    Leaving?


    First and second-year students weren''t permitted to leave Academy grounds unless for sanctioned excursions¡ªnone of which had been mentioned.


    His gaze flicked over her, sharp with suspicion. "Where?"


    Elara turned, her robes billowing slightly as she began walking. "The capital."


    Riven stared.


    "The capital," he repeated flatly.


    She glanced at him over her shoulder. "Is that a problem?"


    A moment of silence passed.


    "What for?" he asked, his tone measured.


    Elara''s expression remained unreadable. "You''ll see soon enough."


    That was a useless answer. Riven exhaled slowly, his lips curling into a faint smirk. "You do love your mysteries."


    Elara hummed, but didn''t deny it.


    Riven didn''t like it. Something about this felt¡­ off.


    He had anticipated rigorous training, tests to push his magic, maybe even private duels. But the capital? What reason could she possibly have for taking him there?


    His gaze flickered downward¡ªNyx was silent in his shadow, but he could feel the slight shift in her presence.


    She was thinking the same thing.


    This wasn''t just some simple training.


    Elara was testing something.


    And Riven intended to figure out what.


    ¡ªx¡ª


    The carriage rumbled smoothly along the cobbled streets, the rhythmic clatter of hooves a steady backdrop to the silence inside.


    Riven sat opposite Archmage Elara, arms crossed, watching as the capital of Valeria unfolded outside the window. He had seen it before during his infiltration of Duke Deveroux''s estate, but this time, there was no need for secrecy. No cloaks and daggers. No slipping through the cracks in the city''s defenses.


    This time, he was here openly, as an Academy student¡ªa status that granted him passage but not trust.


    The city was alive with movement.


    The outer merchant district bustled with activity, vendors shouting over one another, peddling enchanted trinkets, exotic spices, and shimmering mana-infused silks. The streets were packed with travelers, merchants, and adventurers from all walks of life, their attire ranging from common cloth to rich, gold-embroidered robes.


    Past the markets, the noble district stretched in pristine elegance¡ªwhite marble structures, cascading fountains, and sprawling mansions with gilded gates. Here, the streets were quieter, more refined, as highborns strolled arm-in-arm, their eyes brimming with self-importance.


    Riven''s gaze flicked over them with silent disdain.


    They passed through the final stretch of the noble district and turned into a quieter street. Here, the towering estates gave way to more modest buildings, their exteriors unremarkable compared to the grandeur they had just left behind.


    And then, without warning, the carriage halted.


    Riven glanced out the window, brow raising slightly as he took in their destination.


    An apothecary.


    The Gilded Leaf was carved into a simple wooden sign hanging above the entrance, its edges slightly worn. The windows were fogged over, filled with the hazy outlines of herbs, potions, and alchemical supplies. The shop looked ordinary¡ªtoo ordinary for an Archmage of the Academy to be visiting.


    Riven turned back to Elara.


    She was already stepping out of the carriage.


    Riven followed, adjusting his cloak, his gaze flicking once more to the quiet street around them. Nothing immediately stood out, but something about this felt¡­ deliberate.


    Nyx''s presence shifted within his shadow, her silent watchfulness mirroring his own.


    The moment they stepped inside, the scent of dried herbs, crushed petals, and aged parchment filled the air. The shelves were lined with glass vials of various colors, jars of preserved ingredients, and bundles of medicinal roots tied with twine.


    Behind the counter, an old man stood hunched over, carefully grinding what smelled like mana-thistle into a fine powder. His gray beard nearly touched the wooden surface, and he barely glanced up as they entered.


    Elara approached the counter smoothly.


    The old man finally looked up, his sharp, weathered gaze flicking between them. His expression didn''t change, but something about the way his fingers stilled against the mortar and pestle told Riven that this was no ordinary shopkeeper.


    Then, in a voice too low for anyone else to hear, Elara spoke a single phrase.


    "The stars that shine in the dark."


    A pause.


    The old man studied her for a long moment. Then, with an exhale, he reached beneath the counter.


    Click.


    The enchantment was subtle¡ªa faint pulse of magic that rippled through the wooden floorboards.


    Riven''s instincts flared, but before he could react¡ª


    The floor beneath his feet gave way, gravity yanking him downward.


    His body reacted instantly, mana surging, shadows twisting around him to cushion his fall. But before he could even attempt to counter it¡ª


    Thud.


    He landed.


    Not on stone, not on hard earth¡ªon something¡­ soft.


    His boots then touched cold stone, the air thick with the scent of aged parchment, burning incense, and something older¡ªsomething woven deep into the foundations of this place.


    This wasn''t just a hidden chamber beneath an apothecary.


    This was a temple.


    And it was ancient.


    The towering ceiling arched high above, lost in a void of flickering sconces that cast long, wavering shadows. The walls were carved with intricate runes¡ªsigils of power, of death, of eternity¡ªetched into obsidian and outlined in silver. Hooded figures drifted silently through the corridors, their robes trailing like whispers, the air thick with murmured incantations and the steady pulse of necrotic mana.


    This was not a place of divine worship.


    It was a sanctum for those who had long abandoned the light.


    Behind him, Elara landed lightly, her violet robes barely stirring. She moved forward without hesitation, navigating the temple with the ease of someone who had walked its halls before.


    Riven didn''t follow immediately. His gaze swept the vast chamber, absorbing every detail, every flickering rune, every silent figure that turned their cowled heads toward him in recognition¡ªor curiosity.


    This place wasn''t just a hidden refuge for mages.


    It was a stronghold.


    A sanctum of power.


    And more importantly¡ªit was a necromancer''s domain.


    Nyx shifted slightly in his shadow, her presence sharpening. She saw it too. The wards woven into the pillars, the lingering echoes of death magic in the air.


    Riven exhaled slowly, his smirk sharp as he finally stepped forward, following Elara deeper into the temple.


    "You know," he mused, voice laced with amusement, "one of these days, I''m going to throw you into a pit and see how you like it."


    Elara smiled, not even looking back. "You landed on the cushioning rune, didn''t you?"


    "That''s not the point."


    She only chuckled, moving past a line of silent acolytes who stepped aside at her presence. The deeper they walked, the more apparent it became¡ªthis wasn''t just some underground network of rogue mages. This was a place of study, of ritual, of power.


    And at its heart, something waited.


    The hall opened into a vast inner sanctum, its architecture reminiscent of the grand temples devoted to the divine¡ªexcept this one wasn''t built for gods.


    It was built for something darker.


    At the center of the chamber, illuminated by a ring of ever-burning abyssal flame, stood six towering statues carved from obsidian.


    Five of them were unmistakable.


    Krux. Nyx. Aria. Mal. Damon.


    Riven''s generals.


    And at the center, larger than the rest, was Velmorian.


    The Shadow King.


    The one who had come before.


    His statue loomed over the chamber, his obsidian crown sharp, his long cloak carved into sweeping motion, as though the darkness itself had taken form in stone. His gaze was piercing, immortalized in polished onyx, his expression unreadable.


    It was a monument.


    Riven stood still for a moment, absorbing the sheer weight of it.


    Elara stepped forward, turning slightly toward him, her violet eyes gleaming in the dim firelight.


    "This is where those who walk the path of the abyss come to grow," she said, voice softer now. "This is where necromancers learn to control what the world fears."


    Riven said nothing for a long moment.


    Then, slowly, a smirk curled at his lips.


    "Now this," he murmured, "this is interesting."

 Chapter 89 - 89: Secret Society

    The flickering glow of abyssal flames cast shifting shadows across the vast chamber, illuminating the towering statues of Riven''s generals and Velmorian in eerie, ever-moving light.


    Elara turned to him, her violet eyes gleaming with something akin to reverence as she gestured toward the statues. "This temple was built after the fall of the Shadow Kingdom," she said, her voice filled with something close to awe. "A sanctuary for those who still walked the path of necromancy¡ªa place where they could practice their craft without fear of persecution."


    Riven tilted his head slightly, his smirk hidden behind a mask of casual intrigue. "A secret society of necromancers hiding inside the Solis Kingdom itself?" His voice was smooth, but there was a hint of amusement beneath it. "How¡­ rebellious."


    Elara nodded, completely missing his sarcasm. "Exactly. After the fall, the world turned against necromancers. Most were hunted, forced into hiding, or worse¡ªexecuted. The Academy, the noble houses, the King himself¡ªthey wanted necromancy erased from history. But the truth is, you can''t kill an art like this. You can''t silence it forever."


    Her gaze flickered over to the statue of Velmorian, admiration clear in her expression. "Velmorian''s teachings survived. His vision survived. And now, after all these years, something incredible is happening."


    Riven folded his arms, already knowing where this was going but playing along. "Oh?"


    Elara inhaled sharply, and for the first time since he''d met her, she looked excited.


    No¡ªstarstruck.


    She clasped her hands together as if she were about to tell him the most groundbreaking piece of information he had ever heard.


    "There''s a new Shadow King!" she gushed, practically vibrating with enthusiasm.


    Riven blinked.


    Nyx, still concealed within his shadow, stifled a strangled wheeze. S§×ar?h the n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    ''Ohhh, this is gonna be good,'' she whispered, her amusement rolling through their link.


    Riven ignored her.


    "Is that so?" he asked smoothly, tilting his head.


    Elara beamed. "Yes! A true necromancer, a master of abyssal power, has begun rebuilding the Shadow Kingdom from its ruins! He''s already gathering people, strengthening the land, and restoring the knowledge that was nearly lost."


    Riven arched a brow. "And you''re sure about this?"


    Elara huffed, as if personally offended by his doubt. "Of course! Do you think I wouldn''t research this? There are reports¡ªwhispers from traders, mercenaries, and even guilds. Not just rumors¡ªevidence."


    "Evidence," Riven echoed, glancing at the massive statues of his generals surrounding them. "Fascinating."


    Nyx snorted in his shadow. ''You hearing this? Oh, mighty Shadow King? A legend in the making? A master of the abyss? A god among men?''


    ''Shut up,'' Riven muttered under his breath.


    Elara, oblivious to his inner suffering, kept going.


    "He''s brilliant," she said, practically swooning. "Cold, ruthless, incredibly powerful. A strategist like no other! He''s already securing trade routes, fortifying his lands¡ªand he made a deal with Duke Deveroux, did you hear about that?!"


    "I have," Riven deadpanned.


    Elara beamed. "Isn''t it genius?! Instead of hiding, instead of trying to fight the nobles outright, he''s manipulating them! Drawing them in, forcing them to work for him without even realizing it! This man is a visionary."


    Nyx was wheezing. ''Oh gods, please¡ªplease let me tell Krux about this. He''ll lose his mind.''


    Riven clenched his jaw. ''Not. A. Word.''


    Elara, still completely unaware, continued gushing. "And do you know what else? There are rumors that he''s been expanding his power faster than anyone thought possible. Some say he''s already reached the Fourth Circle¡ªdo you know how insane that is?! The Academy would kill to have a student like that, but he''s out there, doing things no mage alive can even comprehend!"


    Riven inhaled slowly through his nose, his expression impassive even as every single thing she was saying was about him.


    "And yet," he said smoothly, "you''re here, helping me."


    Elara sighed dramatically, placing a hand over her heart as if she were about to make a great declaration. "I know you''re gifted in necromancy, Riven. I saw it the moment I met you. But it''s dangerous for someone like you to be alone¡ªespecially in a kingdom that would execute you if they found out."


    Her voice softened. "You don''t have to struggle in the dark, hiding what you are. Here, you can train. Grow stronger. You''ll be safe."


    Riven exhaled slowly, dragging a hand down his face before offering Elara an easy, amused smile.


    "You''re very passionate about this Shadow King," he said.


    Elara nodded firmly. "Of course! He''s bringing back something the world tried to erase. He''s proving that necromancy isn''t just some ''evil magic'' to be feared. He''s a symbol."


    "A symbol," Riven echoed.


    "Exactly!" she said, her eyes bright with excitement. She clasped her hands behind her back, her expression turning serious again. "You have potential, Riven. I want to help you. If you train here, no one will suspect a thing. You won''t have to worry about the King finding out that you''re¡­ well¡­"


    "A necromancer?" he supplied, thoroughly entertained.


    She nodded. "Exactly."


    Riven smirked.


    He let his gaze sweep across the chamber once more, taking in the towering statues, the flickering abyssal flames, the hooded figures whispering their dark incantations.


    "Well," he said, exhaling in feigned consideration. "I suppose it would be a waste not to see what this place has to offer."


    Elara smiled, clearly pleased.


    Nyx cackled.


    Riven resisted the urge to kick his own shadow.


    The temple stretched deeper than Riven had anticipated. Towering archways loomed overhead, the ceiling disappearing into darkness, lined with chains that held glowing blue lanterns. The walls were inscribed with abyssal runes, shifting and pulsing faintly as if the magic itself was alive.


    Elara walked with purpose, leading him through long, spiraling hallways filled with the quiet murmur of cloaked figures. Some stood in small circles, whispering incantations over ancient tomes, while others meditated in shadow-etched glyphs, their mana signatures barely restrained.


    A place like this wasn''t just hidden.


    It was preserved.


    A relic of an era thought long lost.


    Elara glanced back at him. "Come. There''s more to see."


    Riven fell into step beside her, casting a brief glance at the figures who watched from beneath their hoods. The air here carried a weight to it, thick with magic, with history. Every inch of this place spoke of its defiance¡ªof its survival.


    Nyx, still concealed in his shadow, muttered, ''So let me get this straight. They built an entire temple dedicated to us, and they don''t even know their so-called ''new Shadow King'' is currently taking a tour?''


    Riven didn''t answer. He didn''t need to.


    Because, yes. That was exactly what was happening.


    His gaze flicked toward Elara. ''And she was so damn earnest about it too.''


    "So," he said casually as they walked. "How exactly do you fit into all this? I get the whole ''necromancer preservation society'' thing, but I wouldn''t have taken you for a historian."


    Elara hummed, running her fingers along the stone wall as they moved. "My role is¡­ complicated."


    "Enlighten me."


    She shot him a sidelong glance, a faint smile playing at her lips. "I don''t often talk about it."


    "That just makes me more curious."


    Elara exhaled, then gestured toward a massive, arched doorway ahead. "Let''s continue this conversation inside."


    Riven followed her through the threshold, stepping into what could only be described as a grand hall of records.


    The walls were lined with shelves¡ªtowering structures made of dark, polished wood, packed with scrolls and leather-bound tomes, some older than the kingdom itself.


    At the center of the room sat a massive, circular table, its surface carved with a map of the known world.


    But something was different.


    Riven stepped closer.


    It wasn''t just the Solis Kingdom and its neighbors displayed here.


    There¡ªetched into the stone, darkened and worn by time¡ªwas his kingdom. The Shadow Kingdom.


    Not as ruins. Not as myth.


    But as it had been.


    Whole.


    Riven traced a hand over the map, his mind quiet, yet sharp.


    They had remembered.


    The world may have tried to erase the Shadow kingdom, but here, it had been kept alive.


    Elara''s voice broke the silence. "This temple isn''t just a place to train, Riven. It''s a vault. A sanctuary for history, for power. We don''t just teach necromancy¡ªwe preserve it."


    She stepped beside him, her violet eyes dark with something unreadable. "You asked how I fit into this?" She placed a hand against the ancient stone. "I''m the one making sure it doesn''t disappear again."


    Riven turned to her, interest flickering across his features. "You really believe that?"


    Elara''s lips curved into a faint, almost bittersweet smile. "I was just a child when the Solis Kingdom razed the Shadow Kingdom," she murmured, her voice quieter now. "My father was a necromancer¡ªhe had fallen in love with my mother, a woman from Solis. He was visiting his homeland when the war began¡­ and he never returned.


    Riven studied her for a moment, the flickering abyssal light casting shifting shadows across her face. There was something raw beneath her words¡ªnot just conviction, but loss. A wound left unhealed by time.


    "And your mother?" he asked, voice unreadable.


    Elara exhaled, fingers trailing absentmindedly over the etched stone of the map. "She tried to keep me safe. She told me to hide what I was, to never speak of my father''s magic. But I had already seen too much. I knew what he was, what he could do. And more than anything, I knew he hadn''t been a monster." Her violet eyes darkened. "The Solis Kingdom wanted people to believe necromancers were abominations. That they were dangerous, uncontrollable. But my father¡­ he was kind. He healed the sick. He guided lost souls. He used his power to help people."


    Riven''s expression didn''t change, but inside, he filed that information away.


    A necromancer who healed rather than destroyed? It was common knowledge that earth magic possessed restorative properties¡ªbut necromancy? He supposed it was possible. Magic had no true limits, only the constraints imposed by understanding and will. And yet, given how the world feared those who wielded death, it was no surprise that such practices had been buried beneath centuries of superstition and suppression.


    "So you joined this place," Riven mused, his tone light. "Carved out a little rebellion in the heart of the kingdom that wanted our kind dead."


    Elara smiled faintly, but there was no warmth in it. "I didn''t find this place. It found me. The ones who built it¡­ they were the last remnants of Velmorian''s followers, those who had survived the war. They took me in, taught me, showed me what the world had tried to erase." Her gaze flicked to him, sharp yet unreadable. "And now, I do the same. I find those with talent, those who would be hunted for their gifts, and I offer them a place where they can truly belong."


    Riven let out a slow breath, amusement curling at the edges of his lips. "So, what, you''re a recruiter now?"


    Elara huffed a laugh. "If you want to put it that way, fine. But it''s more than that." She gestured toward the towering bookshelves that lined the grand hall. "We don''t just preserve necromancy. We evolve it. Refine it. Push it beyond what even Velmorian once imagined. This isn''t just about survival anymore. It''s about reclaiming what was stolen from us."


    Riven''s gaze flicked over the endless rows of tomes, scrolls, and relics. The weight of history pressed against him, thick and tangible. The world may have tried to erase the Shadow Kingdom and necromancy, but here, its legacy still breathed.


    Nyx, still concealed in his shadow, muttered, ''Oh, she''d lose her mind if she knew she was trying to recruit the guy she''s been fangirling over for the last twenty minutes.''


    Riven resisted the urge to roll his eyes. ''Enjoying yourself?'' he murmured internally.


    ''Immensely.'' Nyx''s grin was practically audible.


    Shaking his head, Riven turned back to Elara, his smirk returning. "And you think I belong here?"


    "I think you deserve a chance to grow," Elara corrected. "To wield your power without fear."


    Riven tilted his head, watching her closely. "And what if I told you I wasn''t afraid?"


    She studied him for a long moment, then smiled. "Then I''d say you were lying."


    Riven chuckled under his breath. She didn''t know just how wrong she was.


    Still, he had to admit¡ªthis place intrigued him. A hidden temple of necromancers, growing in the shadows of the kingdom that had tried to destroy them? The irony was almost poetic. Having more power join and protect his kingdom was definitely tempting.


    And perhaps, just perhaps, there was something here worth learning.


    He exhaled, turning back to the map. His gaze lingered on the etched lines of the Shadow Kingdom, the memory of its ruins burned into his mind.


    "Alright," he said at last, amusement laced in his voice. "Show me what you''ve got."


    Elara''s eyes gleamed with quiet satisfaction as she turned, her smile laced with knowing amusement. Without another word, she led Riven deeper into the temple''s heart.


    The corridors narrowed as they descended, the flickering mana lanterns casting restless, shifting shadows along the carved stone walls. The further they walked, the heavier the air became¡ªthick with ancient magic, steeped in the lingering echoes of the past. A presence clung to the space, something neither fully alive nor entirely gone, watching from the unseen corners of the sanctum.


    Riven walked with casual ease, but his mind was working in overdrive. This place¡ªit wasn''t just a sanctuary. It was a fortress of knowledge. The Solis Kingdom had spent years erasing necromancy, branding it as something unnatural, something to be feared. Yet, right beneath their noses, an entire network of practitioners had thrived in the dark.


    It was impressive.


    But it also begged the question¡ªhow had they remained undiscovered for so long?


    Elara stopped before a large set of iron doors, each one carved with intricate runes. With a flick of her wrist, she pressed a hand against the surface, and the runes flared to life. A pulse of dark energy rippled through the air before the doors groaned open, revealing a vast chamber beyond.


    Riven''s gaze swept the room.


    This was different from the rest of the temple.


    Unlike the grand halls filled with towering bookshelves and relics, this chamber was something else entirely. A training ground.


    Rows of necromancers stood in formation, their robes shifting like shadows as they worked through controlled exercises. Some manipulated wraith-like figures with practiced precision, while others wove intricate glyphs into the air, binding spectral entities into temporary servitude. At the far end, a group was experimenting with what looked like abyssal constructs¡ªtwisted creatures made of raw mana and darkness.


    This wasn''t a place of study.


    This was a place of refinement.


    And power.


    Elara stepped aside, letting Riven take it all in. "This is where the real work happens," she said, watching him carefully. "Books and theory will only take a necromancer so far. Mastery comes from control, from understanding the balance between life and death."


    Riven hummed, crossing his arms as he observed. These necromancers weren''t just surviving¡ªthey were evolving. Their techniques were unlike anything he had seen at the Academy, more fluid, more instinctual.


    More dangerous.


    Nyx let out a low whistle from his shadow. ''Alright, I''ll admit it¡ªthat''s kind of impressive. A whole underground army, just waiting to rise.''


    Riven didn''t respond, but he couldn''t deny the potential here. If these necromancers could be persuaded, if they could be brought under the Shadow Kingdom''s banner¡­


    The thought alone was interesting.


    Elara crossed her arms. "What do you think?"


    Riven tilted his head slightly. "Not bad." He glanced at her. "But I imagine not just anyone can walk in here and start training."


    Elara''s lips quirked. "No, they can''t. Every necromancer who trains here is either chosen or has proven themselves worthy of our teachings. We don''t take in just anyone with a talent for death magic."


    Riven arched a brow. "And yet, here I am."


    She smiled. "Consider yourself a special case."


    He chuckled. "How generous."


    Elara''s gaze didn''t waver. "I meant what I said, Riven. You have potential. I don''t know where you learned what you know, but you''re far ahead of most who come here. If you train with us, you won''t have to hold back anymore."


    Nyx snickered. ''Oh, if only she knew.''


    Riven resisted the urge to roll his eyes.


    Instead, he focused on the training necromancers before him. Some were weaving curses into their shadows, others perfecting the delicate art of binding spirits to physical vessels. A handful were engaged in controlled duels, their spectral weapons clashing with eerie precision.


    One, in particular, caught his attention.


    A young woman stood near the center of the chamber, her hands outstretched as a translucent wraith coiled around her like a serpent. Its form flickered between states, not quite bound yet not entirely free. With each motion of her hands, the wraith twitched, its movements smoother, more refined.


    Then, with a final gesture, she solidified it into a spectral blade in her grasp.


    Riven watched as she took a stance, her form disciplined, her control unwavering.


    Elara noticed his interest. "That''s Soraya," she said. "One of our most skilled summoners."


    "Hmm." Riven studied her technique. It wasn''t just impressive¡ªit was precise.


    She moved with a grace that spoke of years of practice, her connection to the wraith effortless.


    Elara continued. "She specializes in binding spirits into weapons. Unlike most necromancers, she doesn''t just summon them¡ªshe forges them."


    "Interesting," Riven murmured.


    He had seen something similar before¡ªhis generals had wielded weapons infused with abyssal spirits, using them to strike down their enemies with terrifying efficiency.


    But this? This was raw talent honed to perfection.


    Nyx hummed in his shadow. ''She''s good. Still wouldn''t last ten seconds against you, though.''


    Riven smirked slightly. Probably not.


    Elara gestured for him to follow. "Come. There''s one more thing I want to show you."


    They moved past the training area, descending a set of spiral stairs that led even deeper beneath the temple. The walls here were older, the runes carved into the stone far more ancient. The deeper they went, the more the air changed¡ªheavier, charged with something powerful yet restrained.


    At the base of the stairs, another door loomed before them, sealed with intricate abyssal locks.


    Elara placed a hand against it, and the runes reacted immediately, twisting and unraveling like serpents slithering away from a predator.


    With a slow, grinding sound, the door opened.


    Riven stepped inside¡ªand for the first time in a long while, he paused.


    The chamber was vast, lined with six towering monoliths, each one carved with abyssal inscriptions. In the center, a single platform pulsed with power, its surface marked with complex formations.


    And standing above it all¡ªsuspended in an eerie, ethereal glow¡ªwas a book.


    Not just any book.


    A tome bound in what looked like shadow itself, its cover shifting, writhing, as if resisting the very space it existed in.


    Elara stepped forward, her gaze locked on the floating tome with something bordering reverence. "This," she said, voice quiet with awe, "is the Codex of the Fallen. One of the last surviving records of necromantic magic from the Shadow Kingdom."


    Riven''s eyes flickered with interest. "And you''ve just been keeping it here?"


    She nodded. "It''s too dangerous to be anywhere else. Even those who train here aren''t allowed to touch it¡ªnot without proving themselves."


    Riven took a slow step closer, feeling the weight of its presence pressing against his mana heart. This book¡­ it wasn''t just powerful.


    It was alive.


    Nyx voice trembled, laced with something between awe and disbelief. ''How¡­ how the hell is this here?!''


    Riven frowned at the rare seriousness in her tone. ''You recognize this book?''


    ''Recognize it?'' Nyx''s voice was almost frantic, her shadow quivering beneath him as if barely restraining herself. ''That''s Velmorian''s personal grimoire! Do you have any idea what you''re looking at?! He recorded everything in there¡ªpersonal accounts, kingdom blueprints, plans for the future. Every necromantic spell he ever created or refined is in those pages!''


    Riven''s gaze on the book sharpened.


    ''Every single page was inscribed by his own hand,'' Nyx continued, her voice bordering on reverence. ''This isn''t just a record, Riven. It''s Velmorian''s mind, laid bare.''


    Riven exhaled slowly, his gaze locked onto the floating tome. He could feel it¡ªa pulse of power, restrained yet immense, as if the book itself was barely holding back the weight of everything inscribed within its pages.


    Velmorian''s personal grimoire.


    His entire mind, his plans, his magic, laid bare.


    And it had been sitting here, untouched, guarded by those who didn''t even realize that the one person who had the right to claim it was standing right in front of them.


    ''If I take it now, will the whole room come crashing down?'' Riven asked dryly through his link with Nyx. His gaze flicked to the shadowy tendrils writhing from the book, stretching toward the cold stone walls and ceiling like anchor points¡ªtwisting, pulsing, as if they were the only thing keeping the chamber from collapsing in on itself.


    Nyx was still vibrating in his shadow, barely containing herself. ''I don''t care¡ªtake it anyway.''


    Elara, completely oblivious to the conversation, watched him carefully. "This tome contains the last remaining knowledge of the true Shadow Kingdom. Spells that no longer exist in modern necromancy. Techniques that could rival even the greatest Archmages of our time."


    She took a slow breath, as if even standing near it was a privilege. "No one has been able to unlock its full contents," she admitted. "It is bound by an ancient protection, one that requires¡­ something more than just raw power." Her violet eyes flickered with curiosity. "I had a feeling, Riven, that if anyone could at least touch it without being cursed into oblivion, it would be you."


    Riven arched a brow, glancing at the hovering book. "That''s quite a gamble."


    Elara smirked slightly. "Magic is always a gamble. But you seem like someone who plays the odds well."


    Riven hummed, his fingers twitching slightly at his side. His shadows stretched faintly toward the book, feeling the sheer abyssal weight of it. If this truly was Velmorian''s mind laid bare, then it was a treasure beyond anything the Academy or the Solis Kingdom could ever offer him.


    But¡­ he couldn''t take it. Not yet.


    If he just reached out and claimed it without a second thought, Elara would start asking questions¡ªquestions he wasn''t ready to answer.


    And while this place held promise, he had no intention of revealing his rule just yet. Especially not when the Archmage was involved¡ªtrust was a luxury he couldn''t afford. Not unless it was absolute ¡ª or they were under his command, whether in life or in death.


    So instead, he smirked and took a slow step back. "As much as I love the idea of testing ancient curses on myself, I think I''ll pass."


    Elara blinked, clearly surprised. "You''re not interested?"


    Nyx all but screamed in his mind. ''WHAT?!''


    Riven ignored her. "Oh, I''m interested," he admitted easily, folding his arms. "But I''m also not an idiot. If no one has unlocked it in all this time, then simply touching it isn''t going to get me anywhere."


    Elara exhaled, as if relieved. "Good. You''re smarter than most." Her gaze lingered on him for a beat longer before she turned toward the floating tome once more. "I''ve spent years researching the locks placed on it. There are theories that only someone with a direct connection to Velmorian''s legacy could access it."


    Riven didn''t react, but inwardly, he filed that information away.


    So the book would recognize him.


    That was good to know.


    Elara gestured toward the exit, clearly satisfied with his reaction. "Come. There''s still more I want to show you."


    As she led him back toward the stairway, Riven let out a slow breath, his mind already spinning with possibilities.


    Velmorian''s grimoire was within his reach.


    It was only a matter of time before it was his.

 Chapter 90 - 90: Think it over

    As they ascended the spiraling stone steps, the weight of what Riven had just seen pressed against his thoughts. The Codex of the Fallen¡ªVelmorian''s personal grimoire¡ªsealed within a temple that unknowingly worshipped his own legacy. The irony was almost laughable.


    Almost.


    He kept his expression neutral as Elara led him deeper into the temple''s halls, their path winding through dimly lit corridors lined with more towering bookshelves and shadowy figures whispering over ancient tomes. The magic here was alive, thrumming beneath his skin like a second pulse.


    Elara glanced at him. "I imagine this is a lot to take in."


    Riven offered a half-smirk. "Oh, you have no idea."


    Nyx, still lingering in his shadow, was less composed. ''I swear to all the abyssal gods, if you don''t go back and take that book¡ª''


    ''Not now.'' Riven''s tone was firm.


    Elara stopped in front of a carved archway, pressing a hand against the dark stone. The runes embedded in it pulsed once before shifting apart, revealing yet another chamber beyond.


    This one was smaller, less of a grand hall and more of a private study. Darkwood furniture was arranged in careful order¡ªpolished desks, shelves packed with aged scrolls, a large circular table in the center with an assortment of neatly stacked notes. The only light came from several floating lanterns, casting the space in a flickering violet glow.


    Riven''s gaze flicked to the far wall, where a familiar symbol had been carved into the stone.


    The sigil of the Shadow Kingdom.


    Intact.


    Untouched.


    He said nothing, but his fingers twitched slightly at his side.


    Elara stepped forward, crossing the study with an air of casual authority. She leaned against one of the polished desks, her violet gaze flicking to him as she motioned toward the chair across from her.


    "Sit," she said smoothly. "We should talk."


    Riven hesitated for only a moment before settling into the chair, his movements unhurried, almost languid. He had no intention of being commanded, but he was more than willing to listen¡ªespecially when the person speaking had no idea just how much she was revealing.


    Elara studied him for a beat, then reached into the folds of her robe, pulling out a small chain of silver. The silver obsidian-like pendant hanging from it gleamed faintly under the lantern light.


    Riven''s brow arched. "The pendant."


    Elara smirked. "You haven''t asked how they work yet."


    Riven leaned back slightly, folding his arms. "You told me they conceal my aura."


    "Not just your aura, but your dark mana." Elara confirmed. "While you wear it, even the most attuned mages won''t be able to sense your magic. The pendant masks your presence, making it appear as though your mana is no different from any other Academy student''s."


    Riven hummed in thought, he had noticed the effect. The usual hum of abyssal energy that clung to him like a second skin had been dulled, suppressed into something barely noticeable.


    Clever.


    Elara tilted her head. "But that''s not its only function."


    "Oh?"


    "It''s also a key," she said.


    His hand went up to the pendant automatically. "A key to what?"


    "To this temple," Elara answered. "There''s a teleportation gate hidden in my office at the Academy. As long as you have that pendant, you can access it. Place it on the activation rune, and it will bring you directly here."


    Riven twirled the pendant between his fingers, his thoughts shifting. A direct passage between the Academy and the Shadow Temple. Convenient.


    And more importantly¡ªdangerous.


    For them.


    He looked up at her, his smirk curling at the edges. "If I had this key, why did we bother taking the carriage through the capital?"


    Elara''s smirk widened, her violet eyes glinting with amusement. "Because I wanted to see your reactions."


    Riven arched a brow. "Reactions?"


    She shrugged, crossing her arms as she leaned against the desk. "Most necromancers who visit this place for the first time struggle with the realization that the Shadow Temple¡ªone of the last sanctuaries of their kind¡ªis hidden in the heart of the capital itself."


    She watched him closely, as if measuring his response. "I expected you to be surprised, to be unsettled by how close you were to enemy territory this entire time."


    Riven chuckled, low and smooth. "And yet, you were disappointed."


    Elara exhaled, shaking her head with a small smile. "Let''s just say you''re¡­ difficult to read."


    Nyx snorted. ''That''s one way to put it.''


    Riven ignored her. He traced a thumb over the pendant''s surface, gaze flicking briefly to the Shadow Kingdom sigil etched into the far wall.


    "Your security here is solid," he remarked. "But you''re trusting me with a direct path into your most guarded sanctuary. Bold of you."


    Elara lifted a brow. "I never said I trusted you. I said I was giving you an opportunity."


    Riven met her gaze, his smirk never wavering. "And what happens if I decide to betray that opportunity?"


    Elara''s smile didn''t fade. "Then I''ll make sure you regret it."


    There was no arrogance in her tone¡ªonly confidence.


    Riven chuckled, letting the pendant dangle from his fingers once more. ''She doesn''t even realize the real danger isn''t me turning against her¡ªit''s me turning this place into something she never expected.''


    Still, he had to admit¡­ the convenience of the teleportation gate would be useful.


    Very useful.


    He leaned forward slightly, resting an elbow against the armrest of the chair. "I assume there are restrictions to when and how I can use it?"


    Elara nodded. "For now, I ask that you only use it during designated training hours or when absolutely necessary. I have an illusion ward over the gate in my office, so no one will question its existence, but I''d rather not risk drawing suspicion."


    Riven hummed, tilting his head. "And if I decide I want to train outside of those hours?"


    Elara smirked. "Then I expect you to at least be discreet."


    Nyx let out a low whistle. ''Wow. She really just handed you access to an underground necromancer network with a please be responsible attached to it.''


    Riven resisted the urge to laugh.


    Elara pushed off the desk, her expression turning more serious. "You have potential, Riven. And I do believe this place could benefit you. But it''s up to you to decide how much you''re willing to invest."


    She gestured toward the door leading back to the main halls. "For now, I''ll take you back to the Academy. You can think about everything you''ve seen here and decide where you stand."


    Riven stood, slipping the pendant back beneath his robes. "I already know where I stand."


    Elara lifted a brow. "Oh?"


    Riven smirked. "But I think I''ll keep that to myself for now."


    Elara huffed a quiet laugh, shaking her head as she led him toward the teleportation gate.


    Riven followed, his mind already turning over the possibilities.


    ¡ªx¡ª


    Darkness.


    Then light.


    Then¡ª


    The scent of parchment and ink filled the air. The dim glow of enchanted candles flickered across polished wooden bookshelves. Riven''s boots touched solid ground as the spell finished, depositing them back into Elara''s office within the Academy.


    The transition was seamless.


    Too seamless.


    If Elara had truly constructed a ward that allowed her to transport people in and out of the capital without anyone noticing, then she was far more dangerous than she let on. The amount of control required to mask that level of teleportation¡­


    She''s not someone to underestimate.


    He turned slightly, taking in the familiar sight of her office. The books, the scrolls, the faint scent of old magic lingering in the air. His gaze flicked toward the far wall¡ªtoward the hidden rune that activated the teleportation gate.


    So this was his entrance. His direct path between the Academy and the temple.


    Convenient.


    Very convenient.


    Elara exhaled. "You should get some rest for the rest of the day and think things over," she said. "You''ve had a long morning."


    Riven smirked, adjusting the pendant beneath his robes. "I appreciate your concern."


    "It''s not concern," she countered smoothly, moving toward her desk. "It''s practicality. You may be talented, but exhaustion dulls even the sharpest blade."


    Riven tilted his head, considering her for a moment. "And what about you?"


    Elara raised a brow. "What about me?"


    "You run a hidden necromancer sanctuary, play politics at the Academy, and maintain a teleportation network in the capital," he said, crossing his arms. "Do you ever actually sleep?"


    Elara smirked. "I''ll sleep when necromancers no longer have to hide."


    Nyx let out an amused hum in his shadow. ''Oh, she''s dramatic. I like her.''


    Riven chuckled, shaking his head. "Well then, I''ll leave you to your noble cause."


    Elara simply waved a hand toward the door. "Try not to get into too much trouble, Riven."


    He smirked as he stepped toward the exit. "No promises."


    As he slipped into the Academy halls, the pendant warm against his chest, Riven exhaled slowly.


    ¡ªx¡ª


    Riven didn''t head straight for the dormitories. Instead, he took a detour through the quieter corridors of the Academy, moving with purpose toward one of the more secluded study alcoves near the western wing. It was a small, forgotten space¡ªrarely used, tucked behind a spiraling staircase where the lanterns flickered dimly, barely maintained.


    It would do.


    The moment he stepped inside, away from prying eyes, his shadow rippled unnaturally.


    Then, with the whisper of shifting darkness, Nyx stepped out from the inky void at his feet, stretching like a cat after too long in confinement.


    "Finally," she muttered, rolling her shoulders. "I was getting cramped in there."


    Riven smirked, leaning against the stone wall, arms crossed. "You''re acting like I trapped you in a box."


    Nyx shot him a flat look. "That temple was brimming with mana-sensitive necromancers. I had to suppress myself the entire time. Do you have any idea how frustrating it is to sit still while people discuss your entire legacy without realizing you''re literally in the room?" She waved a hand dramatically. "Do you know how hard it was not to jump out and scream when Elara started monologuing about you?"


    Riven exhaled a quiet chuckle. "You survived."


    "Barely," she deadpanned.


    She leaned against the opposite wall, her obsidian eyes sharp as she studied him. "So? What''s the plan now? You''ve got access to a hidden necromancer sanctuary, a teleportation gate, and¡ªoh yeah¡ªVelmorian''s personal grimoire just sitting there waiting for you to claim it."


    Riven twirled the pendant between his fingers. "Patience."


    Nyx groaned. "You always say that." S~ea??h the n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "And I''m always right."


    She huffed, crossing her arms. "You do realize if you told Elara who you actually were, she''d probably swear fealty on the spot."


    Riven arched a brow. "And then what? Hand me the entire temple like a gift? No. It''s better to let them show their worth first."


    Nyx considered that before nodding slowly. "You''re planning to test them."


    "Of course I am," Riven said smoothly. "Right now, they''re useful. But true loyalty? That has to be earned¡ªor forced."


    Nyx smirked. "There''s the Shadow King I know."


    He hummed in amusement, then pushed off the wall. "Come on. I still have an appearance to keep up at the Academy."


    ¡ªx¡ª


    Riven strode through the Academy''s Market District, weaving through the midday bustle with practiced ease. Merchants called out their wares, students bartered for rare alchemical ingredients, and the scent of roasted meat from a nearby stall mixed with the faint tinge of mana-infused parchment. It was routine, familiar.


    Which made it all the more irritating when he heard a familiar voice cut through the noise.


    "Riven!"


    He barely had time to turn before a blur of red stormed toward him. Ember''s crimson cloak swayed behind her, her curls bouncing with each determined step. Her crimson eyes, so much like their father''s, locked onto him with unmistakable frustration.


    Nyx, now visible beside him, let out a low whistle. "And here we go."


    Riven smirked. "You sound excited."


    "Oh, I am. This is entertainment."


    Riven exhaled and turned fully to face Ember, his expression already settled into something neutral. "Ember."


    She didn''t waste time on pleasantries. "You fought Cole. Again."


    Her voice was tight, just shy of angry¡ªbut not quite. Frustrated, maybe. Annoyed, definitely. But there was something else beneath it.


    Concern.


    He didn''t bother hiding his smirk. "And?"


    Ember''s hands clenched at her sides. "And you''re making this worse. Do you have any idea how much trouble you''re stirring up? The professors are watching you, the noble houses are whispering¡ªFather is furious."


    "Oh no," Riven drawled, placing a hand over his chest in mock worry. "Whatever shall I do?"


    Nyx snorted beside him.


    Ember''s eyes burned. "This isn''t a joke, Riven."


    "But I find it funny," he replied, voice smooth, deliberately detached.


    Her jaw tightened. "You''re acting like you don''t care, but I know you do."


    He met her gaze evenly. "No, Ember. That''s where you''re wrong."


    A flicker of hesitation crossed her face. Barely noticeable¡ªbut he caught it. She wanted to believe he was lying. That deep down, some part of him still cared about the Drakar name, about their father''s wrath, about the weight of their family''s expectations.


    He didn''t.


    And judging by the way she inhaled sharply, she was realizing that too.


    Nyx tilted her head, watching the exchange with unhidden amusement. She didn''t know who Ember was, not really, but she didn''t need to. Just watching Riven play along with this conversation was enough.


    Ember finally broke the silence, her voice quieter but no less insistent. "Just¡ªstop drawing so much attention to yourself," she muttered. "I know you hate this family, but that doesn''t mean you have to make things worse."


    Riven arched a brow, his smirk turning razor-sharp. "Since when do you care what happens to me?" His voice was light, almost amused, but there was an edge beneath it¡ªcold, cutting. "And where was this concern when your mother made my life a living hell?"


    Ember flinched. It was subtle, a brief flicker in her expression, but Riven caught it.


    She didn''t answer immediately.


    Ember''s lips parted slightly, as if she wanted to say something¡ªsome excuse, some justification¡ªbut nothing came. The weight of his words settled between them, thick and suffocating.


    Finally, she swallowed and said, barely above a whisper, "I thought¡­ I thought you had forgiven us."


    Riven let out a slow, humorless chuckle. It wasn''t loud, wasn''t mocking, but it carried something far colder¡ªsomething final.


    "Forgiven?" He tilted his head slightly, his smirk sharpening into something cruel. "I was tortured every single day in that house, and no one did a damn thing. You all just¡ªignored it." His voice didn''t rise, didn''t waver, but the venom beneath it was unmistakable.


    Ember''s hands trembled at her sides. "I¡ªI was just a child, Riven. I didn''t¡ª"


    "I was also just a child," he cut in smoothly, his gaze darkening. "And yet, I was still expected to survive it."


    She flinched again, but this time, she didn''t look away.


    Nyx, who had been silent up until now, finally let out a sharp exhale. "Wow," she muttered, crossing her arms. "This is just pathetic."


    Ember blinked, startled, as if she had just now noticed the other girl''s presence. She turned to Nyx, frowning. "And who exactly are you?"


    Nyx smirked, tilting her head. "Someone who actually gives a damn about him."


    Ember''s eyes widened slightly, but before she could say anything, Riven took a step forward, drawing her attention back to him.


    "Let me make this simple for you, Ember," he said, his voice low, almost gentle¡ªdangerous. "You can either stand by my side, completely, or you can walk away and leave me the hell alone." His blue eyes bore into hers, unyielding. "But there is no middle ground."


    The words hung between them, heavier than before.


    Ember''s lips parted slightly, hesitation flickering across her face. She wanted to argue, wanted to tell him that it wasn''t that simple, that things were complicated, that she had regrets¡ªbut Riven saw it for what it was. Useless words.


    Finally, after a long silence, Ember exhaled sharply, shoulders tensing.


    "¡­I need to think."


    Riven let out a quiet chuckle and stepped back. "Then think fast."


    With that, he turned, walking away without another glance.


    Nyx lingered for a moment longer, her obsidian gaze narrowing, the weight of her presence pressing down like a silent threat. For a brief second, it seemed as if she was genuinely considering whether this girl¡ªthis source of frustration to her king¡ªwas even worth letting live.


    Then, with a slow exhale, she rolled her shoulders and let the tension slip away. Not today.


    With a sharp turn, she strode after Riven, her footsteps light but deliberate, leaving Ember standing alone in the marketplace''s fading noise.


    As they moved deeper into the Market District, Nyx glanced at him sideways. "Think she''ll actually pick a side?"


    Riven smirked faintly, but there was no humor in it. "I don''t care."


    With each new level of power, his ties to the people who called themselves his family grew weaker. Once, he had intended to play along¡ªbleed them dry, use them until there was nothing left, and then crush them beneath his heel. But maintaining the facade was becoming more tedious. Every time he looked at them, he remembered what they had done to the Riven who once occupied this body.


    His jaw tightened, fury coiling in his chest like a storm barely contained.


    Nyx studied him, her amusement dimming as she caught the shift in his aura. "Where are you going?" she asked, a note of caution threading through her voice.


    Riven exhaled sharply, shadows curling at his feet.


    "To fight."

 Chapter 91 - 91: Riven’s Rage

    Riven moved through the crowd, his steps controlled but his breath deepening, his chest rising with the force of something raw and untamed. The anger inside him wasn''t sudden¡ªit never was. It started as a small ember, barely noticeable, before growing into a wildfire that burned through every rational thought.


    He had felt this before.


    When Damon and Mal ignored his summons, their disobedience a stain against his authority.


    When Cole and his lackeys ambushed him, thinking their numbers would make him falter.


    When he stood in the Void, surrounded by suffocating nothingness, fighting against the abyss itself with nothing but his will to survive.


    Each time, the rage had built, crawling beneath his skin, whispering for release. To punish. To break. To dominate.


    Now, it clawed at him again, demanding an outlet. Demanding blood.


    Riven strode toward the Power Rankings near the training grounds, his gaze sweeping over the names etched into the massive stone. His abyssal flames simmered beneath his skin, coiling with restless energy, eager¡ªhungry¡ªfor release.


    He didn''t care who it was.


    If he had to fight every damn student in this Academy, then so be it. He would carve his way through them, one by one, until he stood at the top¡ªuntil every name beneath his was nothing more than a reminder of his dominance.


    And when that happened?


    No one would dare question him.


    No one would challenge him.


    They would crawl to him instead, desperate to curry favor, to beg for his recognition.


    Riven''s gaze dropped down the Power Rankings, his fingers flexing slightly as he found his first target.


    Aaron Rickford. Rank 179.


    Perfect.


    Turning on his heel, he strode toward the overseeing Elder, his presence cutting through the usual noise of the training grounds. A few students nearby took notice¡ªrecognizing him, whispering to one another. A fight was coming.


    "I challenge Aaron Rickford, Rank 179," Riven announced, his voice steady, unwavering.


    The Elder glanced up, startled, his brows raising slightly as he took in the young man before him. "You just fought yesterday," he said, as if trying to make sense of Riven''s relentless pursuit.


    Rivens expression didn''t change. "And?"


    The Elder hesitated before clearing his throat. "Challengers in this rank must provide five rare mana beast cores to issue a summons."


    Before Riven could even move, Nyx was already at his side. Silent, swift¡ªefficient. She pressed the required cores into the Elder''s palm without a word, her obsidian gaze gleaming with anticipation.


    The Elder examined the payment, then nodded. "One moment."


    Raising a hand, he began forming a glowing yellow magic circle in the air, the lines pulsing with communicative magic as he sent word to Aaron Rickford.


    Nyx stepped in close, her fingers grazing Riven''s arm before giving it a firm squeeze. "Show no mercy, my liege."


    Then, with a knowing smirk, she turned and disappeared into the forming crowd, taking her place among the growing onlookers eager to witness the carnage.


    The duel platform was set. The moment the Elder completed his communicative spell, the training grounds buzzed with restless anticipation. Students murmured among themselves, speculation spreading like wildfire.


    "He''s fighting again?"


    "Didn''t he just beat Cole yesterday?"


    "What the hell is he after?"


    Riven ignored them. His focus remained locked on the glowing teleportation sigil at the center of the arena, waiting for his opponent to arrive.


    Then, with a pulse of mana, Aaron Rickford materialized onto the dueling platform.


    The young man was taller than Riven by a few inches, broad-shouldered with short blond hair and a confident smirk that didn''t quite reach his icy blue eyes. A faint mist curled around his hands as he stepped forward, mana already rippling off of him in controlled waves.


    An ice mage.


    Aaron''s gaze flicked over Riven, assessing him with thinly veiled amusement. "You again? Didn''t get enough from your fight yesterday?"


    Riven''s smirk was razor-sharp. "Oh, I''m just getting started."


    The Elder overseeing the duel stepped between them, raising a hand. "This is an official ranking challenge. The victor will claim the loser''s spot, and as per the Academy''s rules, the fight will continue until one side concedes, is incapacitated, or I intervene."


    His gaze swept between them before he lowered his hand. "Begin."


    Aaron was fast.


    He immediately dashed forward, a trail of ice forming beneath his feet, accelerating his movement. With a flick of his wrist, jagged shards of ice erupted from the ground, racing toward Riven in a staggered formation meant to trap him from multiple angles.


    Riven didn''t move at first.


    Then¡ª


    Flames roared to life.


    Dark, abyss-blackened fire burst along his arms, licking at his skin. With a single step forward, he released a controlled wave of heat, melting the incoming ice mid-air, turning the shards into harmless droplets of water that hissed as they evaporated instantly.


    Aaron''s smirk faltered.


    Riven was already moving.


    He closed the distance in a blink, twisting his body as he swung a flaming fist toward Aaron''s ribs.


    Aaron barely managed to react in time, throwing up a thick ice wall between them. The impact sent cracks webbing through the frozen barrier, but it held¡ªfor a second.


    Riven''s second punch shattered it entirely.


    Aaron staggered back, ice forming along his arms as he conjured a series of sharp projectiles. He sent them flying toward Riven in rapid succession, each shard honed to a razor''s edge.


    Riven didn''t bother dodging.


    Instead, his flames surged. A pulse of abyssal fire erupted outward, engulfing the ice mid-air and reducing it to nothing before it could even reach him.


    Aaron''s confidence wavered.


    Good.


    Riven rushed forward again. Aaron tried to slide away, his ice giving him an unnatural speed advantage, but Riven anticipated it. He twisted sharply, driving his knee into Aaron''s gut before he could escape.


    The impact forced the air from Aaron''s lungs in a choked gasp.


    Riven didn''t stop.


    He followed up with a brutal elbow to the side of Aaron''s face, then another strike¡ªhis knuckles cracking against Aaron''s jaw with a sickening snap. Aaron reeled back, blood spilling from a split lip, but Riven didn''t give him the chance to recover.


    A punch. Then another. Then another.


    Abyssal fire clung to Riven''s fists as he struck again and again, heat distorting the air around them. Aaron raised his arms in a feeble attempt to block, but it didn''t matter. Riven''s blows came too fast, too relentless, his strength fueled by the unchecked rage coiling in his veins.


    The world around him faded, narrowing to just the sensation of impact¡ªknuckles meeting flesh, bones cracking beneath his strikes.


    More.


    More.


    He could feel something clawing at the edges of his mind, something dark and insatiable. The same thing that demanded to consume, to dominate, to destroy.


    His breaths came ragged, his vision red-tinged.


    He barely noticed the way the crowd had gone silent.


    Barely registered the muffled shouts from the overseeing Elder.


    Aaron''s body hit the stone floor with a dull thud, his arms limp at his sides, his face bloodied and bruised beyond recognition. He wasn''t moving.


    He wasn''t fighting back.


    But Riven was still hitting him.


    His fist lifted again¡ªflames roaring around it, his body ready to strike again¡ª


    A hand caught his wrist.


    Cold. Steady. Unyielding.


    Nyx.


    Her grip was firm, her expression unreadable as she stared at him. For the first time since the fight started, sound filtered back into his awareness¡ªthe gasps from the spectators, the Elder calling for the match to end, the hushed murmurs of those too afraid to speak louder.


    "Enough," Nyx said softly.


    Not a command. Not a plea.


    Just a statement.


    Riven exhaled sharply, his body tensing¡ªbefore he slowly uncurled his fingers.


    The abyssal flames flickered, then died out.


    He straightened, stepping back, his breath evening out. Aaron didn''t move.


    A healer rushed forward, the Elder calling the match. "Winner¡ªRiven Drakar!"


    A hush settled over the crowd, a mix of awe, fear, and something else.


    Riven barely acknowledged it. He turned sharply, stepping off the stage, his blood still humming with the lingering embers of rage.


    Nyx fell into step beside him, watching him closely. "Feeling better?"


    Riven rolled his shoulders, exhaling slowly. "¡­No."


    Nyx smirked. "Good."


    He kept walking. He wasn''t finished yet.


    Riven didn''t pause. Didn''t revel in the victory. He barely even registered the murmurs of the crowd as he stalked toward the ranking board again, his eyes blazing with something raw, something unrelenting.


    "Wait¡ªhe''s¡ª"


    "Is he seriously¡ª?"


    The whispers escalated, disbelief rippling through the students as they realized what was happening.


    "He''s not stopping."


    "He''s challenging another one?!"


    "That''s insane! Even top-ranked students don''t fight twice in a row!"


    Riven ignored them, his abyssal flames simmering just beneath his skin, the embers of his anger refusing to settle. His gaze swept upward, past Aaron Rickford''s name, past the newly claimed Rank 179¡ªuntil it landed on his next opponent.


    Deacon Voss. Rank 159.


    A wind mage.


    Perfect.


    Riven turned, striding straight toward the overseeing Elder without hesitation.


    "I challenge Deacon Voss," he said coldly.


    The Elder''s brow furrowed, glancing toward the unconscious form of Aaron being carried off the dueling platform. "You just fought. Are you sure¡ª?"


    Riven''s stare silenced him.


    A tense beat of silence stretched between them.


    Then Nyx sighed dramatically, already pressing the required mana beast cores into the Elder''s palm before he could even ask for them. "Just summon him," she said lazily, though there was a sharp glint in her dark eyes. "Before he gets too impatient."


    The Elder hesitated for only a moment longer before sighing and lifting his hand again, golden runes forming in the air as he activated another communicative spell.


    The crowd grew louder.


    "He''s really doing it."


    "Two fights back to back¡ª"


    "Who the hell is this guy?!"


    Nyx tilted her head slightly, lips curling into a smirk. "They''re finally asking the right question."


    A pulse of magic surged through the arena as the teleportation circle flared once more.


    Then, in a gust of wind, Deacon Voss stepped onto the stage.


    Riven''s gaze locked onto him immediately. Deacon was taller, broad-shouldered, his sharp green eyes already narrowed in irritation. His short, dark brown hair was tousled from what had likely been a training session before he was suddenly pulled into this fight. He flexed his fingers, wind currents swirling subtly around his hands.


    He looked between Riven and the Elder, his brow furrowing. "You''re joking."


    "No joke," Riven said smoothly, stepping onto the platform. "You accepted the summons."


    Deacon let out a sharp scoff, dragging a hand through his tousled hair as he eyed Riven with thinly veiled disbelief. "You''re absolutely insane."


    Riven''s smirk sharpened, a glint of fire flickering in his eyes. "Perhaps¡­ but I''m still going to destroy you."


    Deacon''s expression darkened. The air around them shifted, the faint pull of his mana bending the wind currents in his favor. A storm was brewing, and Deacon was its center.


    The Elder exhaled and raised his hand again. "Standard rules apply. The match ends when one fighter is incapacitated or surrenders."


    A brief pause.


    "Begin."


    Deacon disappeared.


    A sharp burst of wind sent dust flying, his figure blurring out of sight.


    Riven barely had time to react before a powerful force slammed into his side.


    Fast.


    Faster than Aaron.


    Riven gritted his teeth, skidding back as the impact rattled through his ribs. He twisted his body instinctively, ducking just in time to avoid another crushing blow as Deacon reappeared behind him in a gust of air.


    Then Deacon was gone again.


    A blur. A flash of movement.


    Then¡ªpain.


    A strike landed against Riven''s shoulder. Another against his ribs. A third¡ªthis one aiming for his jaw¡ªbut he barely managed to tilt his head, the attack grazing past.


    Deacon wasn''t just fast¡ª he was relentless.


    The crowd roared as they watched, students rising to their feet in shock.


    "He''s toying with him!"


    "He can''t keep up!"


    "He actually might lose¡ª"


    Riven shut out the noise. Focused. Calculated.


    The abyssal flames coiled beneath his skin, restless, but fire alone wouldn''t be enough.


    Deacon was fast¡ªtoo fast. He relied on speed, weaving through openings, striking in quick, precise bursts. But he was too confident in it. Too reliant.


    Riven exhaled sharply, absorbing another hit to his ribs. Letting the pain ground him.


    Then¡ª


    He moved.


    A sudden explosion of heat erupted from his body, an outward pulse of abyssal fire¡ªnot an attack, not meant to wound¡ªbut a burst of sheer force.


    The air warped. The oxygen burned away.


    And Deacon¡ªwho had relied entirely on the wind¡ªstumbled.


    That was all Riven needed.


    He struck like a predator.


    A vicious punch to Deacon''s gut¡ªflames scorching on impact.


    Deacon let out a choked gasp, his footing faltering.


    Another punch¡ªthis one to the ribs.


    Another¡ªto the jaw.


    Harder.


    Faster.


    Stronger.


    The world narrowed to the sound of flesh meeting flesh, the scent of burning cloth, the way his fists slammed into Deacon''s body again and again.


    But Deacon wasn''t done.


    Even as Riven''s blows landed, even as abyssal fire scorched through the wind barrier he desperately tried to conjure, Deacon''s hands flicked upward.


    The momentary lapse in his speed had forced him into a corner, but he wasn''t planning to go down without a fight.


    Above them¡ªsharp, glistening icicles had been forming the entire time.


    They hovered high above the arena, barely noticeable through the haze of battle, and now they dropped all at once.


    Riven''s senses screamed. He twisted, dodging the first wave, then the second¡ªhis footwork precise, weaving through the barrage. But there were too many.


    One jagged spike caught him.


    Pain lanced through his shoulder as the icicle buried itself into his arm.


    The impact jolted through him, forcing him to stagger for the first time since the fight began.


    A lesser man would have gasped. Cursed. Panicked.


    Riven?


    He grinned.


    A low, dark chuckle rumbled from his chest, his breath coming in ragged, heated exhales. The pain¡ªit didn''t slow him. It sharpened him. It cut through the haze of his rage, grounding him back into something clear.


    Blood trickled down his arm, dripping onto the dueling platform.


    With a flick of his wrist, flames surged to life. Abyssal fire devoured the ice, melting it in an instant. The lingering burn singed his wound, but Riven barely flinched.


    Deacon hesitated. Just a fraction of a second.


    But Riven caught it.


    He moved.


    Crimson Mirage.


    His form flickered¡ªonce, twice, thrice. The heat distortion created flickering afterimages, each one indistinguishable from the real Riven.


    Deacon''s breath hitched, his gaze darting between the shifting figures.


    Too late.


    Riven was already there. S~ea??h the NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    His fist drove into Deacon''s ribs with crushing force. A loud, sickening crack echoed through the arena.


    Deacon coughed¡ªblood spraying from his lips¡ªbut before he could react, Riven''s knee slammed into his gut, sending him sprawling.


    Scorching Chain.


    Dark flames whipped around his arm, coiling and snapping forward. The fiery chain wrapped around Deacon''s ankle, yanking him back before he could retreat.


    Riven pulled.


    Hard.


    Deacon hit the ground face-first.


    The crowd winced. Some students cheered, others whispered in horror.


    Riven wasn''t listening.


    He didn''t let go.


    He dragged Deacon across the stone platform, the heat from his abyssal flames leaving scorch marks in its wake.


    "Stop¡ª!"


    Riven barely registered the Elder''s voice. His grip tightened on the chain, his eyes gleaming with something primal.


    But with a sigh, he finally dissolved the chain and crossed his arms.


    The Elder overseeing the duel finally cleared his throat, shaking himself out of the heavy silence that had settled over the training grounds. His gaze flicked between Deacon''s unmoving form and Riven''s still-burning aura before lifting a trembling hand.


    "The winner is Riven Drakar," he announced, his voice carrying across the stunned audience. "He now claims the rank of 159."


    The words sent another ripple through the gathered students.


    "He''s climbed forty ranks in a single day," someone whispered.


    "Two fights back-to-back, and he still looks like he could keep going¡­"


    "He''s going to tear through the entire ranking at this rate."


    Riven barely acknowledged them. He had already turned back toward the ranking board, his body coiled with anticipation, his next challenge forming on his lips.


    But before he could speak, before he could even step forward¡ª


    A new voice rang out.


    "I challenge Cassiel Vaigne, Rank 1!"


    The words rang through the air like a war drum.


    For a brief, suspended moment, the entire training grounds fell silent. Then chaos erupted.


    Gasps, frantic whispers, and excited shouts spread like wildfire as students flooded in from all directions, drawn by the challenge like moths to flame. Riven stood beside Nyx, arms crossed, his gaze unwavering as he turned toward the dueling platform.


    A heavy-set figure stepped forward, the weight of his footfalls shaking the stone beneath him. He was massive, a towering wall of muscle, his thick frame rippling with tension. His wild mess of brown hair gave him a feral edge, and his sharp eyes gleamed with unrestrained anticipation.


    "That''s Rank 2¡ªHardren Cull!"


    "The top two tankers are actually fighting?! Someone go tell everyone!"


    More students surged forward, the crowd expanding until it felt as if the entire second-year class had gathered. The air crackled with anticipation, a charged current of shock and exhilaration rippling through every spectator.


    The overseeing Elder lifted his hands, forming the familiar glowing communication circle. But this time, the runes pulsed even brighter, their golden light surging outward in powerful waves.


    And then¡ª


    A burst of radiance erupted across the platform.


    A pulse of something heavy, suffocating.


    Riven''s breath hitched. His chest tightened. His pupils trembled.


    From the center of the arena, a lone figure emerged.


    Draped in flowing black robes adorned with intricate golden embroidery, Cassiel Vaigne stepped forward, his movements slow, deliberate. His long golden hair swayed in the soft breeze, catching the dying sunlight like woven strands of divinity itself. His face, sculpted and unreadable, held an effortless confidence¡ªan assurance that needed no arrogance.


    But it was his eyes that struck Riven the most.


    Deep, dark honeyed irises, warm yet unyielding, sharp yet distant. Cassiel''s gaze flicked toward Hardren, unimpressed.


    "Challenging me again?" His voice was smooth, almost amused.


    Then, with a casual grace, he lifted his palm to the side.


    Light coalesced at his fingertips, twisting and bending, until¡ª


    A blade formed.


    It materialized in an instant, a radiant sword forged of pure gold and condensed sunlight, its form shimmering with celestial energy.


    A Divine Weapon.


    The sheer presence of it sent ripples through the air, heat and light intermingling in a way that felt unnatural¡ªotherworldly.


    Sweat beaded along Riven''s skin. His fingers twitched at his sides.


    Now he understood.


    That suffocating weight. That deep, primal threat clawing at his instincts.


    Cassiel Vaughn was a Divine magic user.

 Chapter 92 - 92: Cassiel

    "His mana¡­" Riven''s voice was barely more than a whisper, his hands clenching into tight fists at his sides.


    Nyx''s expression twisted with disgust, her lip curling as she spat onto the ground. "One of them," she hissed, as if just speaking of it dirtied her tongue. "A Solis Paladin."


    "Well¡­ one in training, anyway," Riven muttered, his jaw locking. His mind flickered back¡ªmemories of the Shadow Kingdom''s final moments, of a battlefield drenched in gold and crimson, of the Solis Paladins cutting through his people without hesitation, without mercy.


    And now, standing before him, was one of those bastards in the flesh.


    Cassiel let out a slow, exasperated sigh, dragging a hand through his golden hair as if this entire ordeal was nothing more than a tedious inconvenience. "You pulled me out of training at the palace for this?" His honeyed eyes flicked toward Hardren, unimpressed. With a casual flick of his wrist, his divine blade shifted, its golden glow intensifying as if responding to his will. He leveled it toward his challenger, his voice smooth, dismissive.


    "Make it worth my time."


    The moment Cassiel finished speaking, the air itself seemed to tighten, as though the mana in the atmosphere bent to his presence. His golden blade pulsed, radiating a warmth that wasn''t comforting¡ªit was suffocating. Riven could feel the divine energy humming in the air, pressing against his skin like an unspoken warning.


    Hardren stood firm, unfazed by the oppressive force rolling off his opponent. He flexed his hands, muscles tensing, then exhaled slowly, eyes sharpening with determination. "Tch. Arrogant as ever," he muttered, shifting his stance. His fists clenched, crackling with raw mana, and a thick, translucent aura formed around his body¡ªdefensive reinforcement magic.


    The students watching barely breathed, anticipation thick in the air.


    "The top two ranked second-years are actually fighting."


    "This is insane. When was the last time someone challenged Cassiel?"


    "They say he doesn''t even train with us anymore¡­ Just the royal paladins."


    "He''s been fighting in actual war zones, hasn''t he? This isn''t just a normal Academy duel."


    Riven stayed silent, watching. Calculating. His fists were still clenched, but the raw anger simmering beneath his skin had twisted into something else.


    Understanding.


    Cassiel wasn''t just a strong opponent. He wasn''t just Rank 1.


    He was something else entirely.


    He''s already walking the path of the divine.


    Riven''s jaw tightened. Divine magic¡ªthe antithesis of everything he was, everything he embodied. It was the power that had erased the previous Shadow King''s rule, that had purged the Shadow Kingdom in holy fire, that had wiped out an entire legacy of necromancers and left their bodies to rot. He had spent so long preparing for this moment, knowing that one day he would stand before its wielders again.


    Now, he could finally see it for himself.


    Feel it for himself.


    And with that realization came the bitter truth¡ª


    He wasn''t strong enough.


    Not yet.


    Cassiel sighed again, clearly unamused by the growing tension. He rolled his shoulders, letting his blade lower just slightly, then smirked. "If you''re not going to move, Hardren, I''ll make the first strike."


    A golden flare erupted from his sword as he stepped forward¡ªand then he vanished.


    No, not vanished.


    Moved.


    Fast.


    Riven''s eyes barely tracked the motion before Cassiel was already in Hardren''s space, divine energy crackling around his blade as it swung in a wide arc.


    Hardren reacted instantly, his reinforced arm snapping up just in time to block.


    A shockwave exploded outward.


    The sheer force of the impact sent a powerful gust ripping through the crowd, knocking back students who stood too close. The stone beneath Hardren''s feet cracked from the pressure, but he didn''t falter.


    For a brief moment, there was a deadlock¡ªCassiel''s golden sword pressed against Hardren''s reinforced arm, divine magic clashing against raw physical power.


    Then¡ª


    Cassiel tilted his wrist.


    The golden energy surrounding his blade expanded in an instant, bursting outward like an eruption of holy fire. S~ea??h the n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Hardren''s eyes widened.


    The force sent him flying back, crashing against the stone platform with enough power to make the entire dueling ground tremble.


    Gasps echoed through the crowd.


    "He¡ªhe blocked the hit, but¡ª"


    "He still got sent flying!"


    "Hardren''s defenses are insane. What the hell kind of attack was that?"


    Riven''s fists clenched harder. That attack¡ªit was more than just a simple reinforcement of mana. Cassiel had let the blade clash, let the pressure build up before detonating divine energy outward like a controlled explosion.


    Calculated. Efficient.


    Dangerous.


    Cassiel didn''t wait. He took a slow step forward, the movement almost casual, his blade still crackling with divine light. "If this is all you''ve got," he mused, "this is going to be a waste of time."


    Hardren wiped blood from his mouth, already pushing himself back up. His aura pulsed, flaring brighter, stronger. "You''re the one who''s all talk," he spat, rolling his shoulders. "Let''s see if that holy glow of yours can handle a real fight."


    The tension in the arena skyrocketed.


    Students whispered, some backing away as the weight of mana between the two fighters grew heavier.


    Riven, however, didn''t move. He just stared at Cassiel.


    Watched him.


    Felt the heat of that divine power saturating the air.


    He understood now.


    If he wanted to climb higher¡ªif he wanted to burn through the Academy, through the noble houses, through the very kingdom that destroyed his home¡ª


    He would have to kill men like Cassiel.


    His blue eyes darkened, abyssal flames simmering just beneath his skin.


    The battle resumed with an explosion of force.


    Hardren launched himself forward, his reinforced mana roaring around him like a protective barrier. His speed was deceptively fast for someone of his massive build¡ªhis sheer weight and strength turning him into a human battering ram.


    Cassiel, unfazed, simply tilted his sword.


    A single movement¡ªclean, effortless.


    A vertical golden arc cut through the air, slicing downward with frightening precision. Hardren dodged, barely managing to shift his body to the side as the divine blade cleaved into the dueling platform, splitting the stone beneath it. A bright flash of divine energy flared on impact, sending golden sparks scattering like embers in the wind.


    Riven''s eyes narrowed. That wasn''t just swordsmanship.


    Cassiel wasn''t swinging his blade randomly¡ªevery movement was purposeful, measured, as if he was playing a game he''d already won.


    Hardren didn''t falter. He adjusted immediately, pivoting on his foot and delivering a powerful punch toward Cassiel''s exposed side. His reinforced arm shimmered, layers of mana hardening like a barrier around his knuckles.


    Cassiel sighed.


    He raised his free hand, palm open.


    A radiant golden shield formed just as Hardren''s fist struck.


    The impact sent out another shockwave¡ªbut Cassiel remained rooted in place, completely unfazed. The divine shield barely cracked. The crowd gasped.


    Hardren gritted his teeth. "Tch."


    Cassiel''s golden eyes gleamed. "Not bad."


    Then he pushed.


    The divine shield expanded outward in a sudden burst of energy, sending Hardren skidding back against the cracked stone.


    Before Hardren could recover, Cassiel moved.


    Faster than before.


    This time, Riven barely followed the motion.


    One second Cassiel was standing on the shattered remains of the dueling stage.


    The next¡ª


    His golden blade was at Hardren''s throat.


    Silence.


    The entire crowd held their breath.


    Cassiel smirked. "Yield."


    Hardren''s jaw clenched, his muscles still tensed to fight¡ªbut he knew. They all did.


    It was over.


    Hardren exhaled sharply, his reinforced aura dimming.


    "I yield."


    The elder overseeing the duel quickly stepped forward, confirming the match. "Winner¡ªCassiel Vaigne."


    The crowd erupted¡ªsome in cheers, some in murmurs of disbelief. The top two second-years had fought, but it hadn''t been a clash of near equals.


    It had been a demonstration.


    A warning.


    Riven watched Cassiel lower his blade, watched the golden energy recede from its edge as if it had never existed. He exhaled slowly through his nose, the embers beneath his skin simmering dangerously.


    So this is divine magic.


    It was fast. Precise. Overwhelming.


    And it had to be destroyed.


    Cassiel turned away from Hardren, dusting off his sleeves as if the duel had been little more than an exercise. Then his gaze lifted.


    And met Riven''s.


    Riven didn''t look away. Didn''t flinch.


    Cassiel''s honeyed eyes studied him, lingering¡ªassessing.


    Then he smirked.


    A slow, knowing smirk.


    And walked away.


    Riven''s jaw clenched, his abyssal flames surging beneath his skin, licking at his bones. His breath came steady, his body still, but his mind roared.


    Nyx stood beside him, her gaze locked onto Cassiel, eyes gleaming with something sharp¡ªsomething murderous. She tilted her head slightly, voice low and edged with malice. "That," she murmured, "felt personal." Her fingers twitched at her sides, as if itching to drive a blade into his throat.


    Riven didn''t comment.


    Didn''t need to.


    Because for the first time since arriving at the Academy¡ªsince fighting his way through the rankings, since carving his name into the minds of every student here¡ª


    He had found his real target.


    The air in the arena was still electric, the aftershocks of Cassiel''s effortless victory rippling through the watching students like a wave. Whispers broke out in hushed murmurs, some filled with awe, others with nervous excitement.


    Riven remained silent, his mind already calculating. Cassiel Vaigne. Rank 1. A Solis Paladin in training. And beyond that¡­ an obstacle.


    Not yet.


    But soon.


    His fingers uncurled from his fists, and he released a slow breath, willing his abyssal flames to settle beneath his skin. This was no different from the rest of his plan. He would climb the Academy''s rankings, rise higher, gain strength, and when the time was right¡ªwhen he was strong enough¡ªhe would drag Cassiel from his golden throne and set it ablaze.


    The students continued murmuring around him.


    "He made it look easy. Hardren didn''t even push him."


    "That''s what happens when you train with the Paladins. He''s already fighting on a completely different level."


    "It''s unfair¡ªhe shouldn''t even be in the rankings if he''s trained outside the Academy!"


    "Then why doesn''t anyone take his spot?" Someone scoffed. "Oh, right. Because no one can."


    Riven''s eyes remained locked on Cassiel''s retreating figure. A different level? No. That was an excuse. Cassiel wasn''t untouchable. Not yet. He was simply ahead.


    And Riven would close that gap.


    Cassiel hadn''t looked at him by accident. That final glance, that smirk¡ªit wasn''t a challenge, nor was it amusement.


    It was acknowledgment.


    Riven exhaled slowly. He knows.


    Maybe not the full truth, not yet. But something in Cassiel''s gut had already recognized Riven as a factor. A presence. A threat.


    He would let that thought fester.


    "Come on," Nyx muttered, stepping away from the dueling stage, her arms crossed as she scowled at Cassiel''s fading figure. "We''re wasting time watching these divine bastards flaunt their arrogance."


    Riven didn''t respond immediately, his gaze still following Cassiel''s every step. His mind was already ten steps ahead, visualizing every battle, every climb up the ranks, every future challenge.


    Finally, he turned.


    "Not yet," he murmured, just for her to hear.


    Nyx shot him a sidelong glance, her expression unreadable. "Not yet?"


    He didn''t elaborate. He didn''t need to.


    Cassiel had taken notice of him.


    Now, all Riven had to do was make sure that by the time he reached him, by the time he could challenge him¡ª


    Cassiel would already be afraid.

 Chapter 93 - 93: Phantom Step

    Riven strode through the Academy courtyard, his thoughts lingering on the duel''s aftermath. Cassiel Vaigne. A name that had burned itself into his mind, not just as an obstacle, but as the embodiment of the power that had razed the Shadow Kingdom to the ground.


    He exhaled through his nose, forcing his abyssal flames to fully settle beneath his skin. The rage was there, simmering, but it wouldn''t serve him now. Not yet.


    Nyx moved beside him, silent but watchful. Her presence was a quiet, steady force¡ªone of the few things he didn''t have to second-guess in this wretched place.


    "You''re brooding again," she muttered, eyes flicking up at him. "Thinking about him?"


    He didn''t bother denying it. "Observing."


    Nyx scoffed. "I''d call it studying your prey."


    A shadow of a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. She wasn''t wrong.


    They made their way through the dim, winding paths behind the Academy, moving with practiced ease toward the mausoleum. The sun had dipped below the horizon, casting the world in muted twilight.


    The air turned cooler as they neared the entrance, an ancient doorway embedded into the hillside. Vines curled around the weathered stone, and the faint scent of damp earth and decay lingered in the air.


    They stepped into the familiar chamber, the air thick with the scent of dust and age. The faint flicker of torchlight cast jagged shadows against the stone walls, illuminating the crumbling table in the center of the room.


    Riven made his way toward it, his thoughts heavy.


    Seeing Cassiel today had been a reminder¡ªa bitter one.


    He wasn''t strong enough. Not yet.


    He needed more spells. More weapons.


    With a sharp exhale, he sifted through his inventory, his fingers moving with precision until he found what he was looking for.


    A book, its cover worn and dark, pulsing faintly with abyssal energy.


    [[ You have obtained a Skill Book! ]]


    [[ Skill Book: Phantom Step ]]


    [[ A technique that allows the user to shift between shadows instantly, making them untouchable for a brief moment. Advanced users can extend this duration or move greater distances. ]]


    The prompt appeared before him.


    [[ Would you like to learn this skill? ]]


    [[ Yes / No ]]


    Riven didn''t hesitate.


    [[ Yes. ]]


    The book lifted from his palms, its pages flipping open on their own, the air around him shifting.


    Abyssal tendrils coiled between him and the tome, binding them in an intricate weave of dark energy. His body lifted slightly off the ground, weightless, as the first traces of power surged through his veins.


    Shadows curled at the edges of his vision.


    Nyx took a step back, lowering her head slightly in respect. "Good luck, my king," she murmured, positioning herself beside him to stand guard while he learned.


    Riven exhaled, his mind already reaching forward.


    ''System, activate Created Training Space.''


    The response came instantly.


    [[ Activating Created Training Space¡­ ]]


    The world vanished.


    Darkness swallowed everything.


    ¡ªx¡ª


    The world fractured.


    Riven''s consciousness plunged through the abyss, his body weightless as the system pulled him into the depths of his Created Training Space.


    Shadows warped, twisted, reformed¡ªuntil suddenly, solid ground materialized beneath his feet.


    When he opened his eyes, he was no longer in the mausoleum. Instead, he stood in a realm shaped by his own abyssal mana.


    [[ Created Training Space: Active ]]


    [[ Learning Acceleration Engaged ]]


    [[ Generating Training Scenario¡­ ]]


    Riven flexed his fingers, feeling the raw pulse of mana surging through his veins. The skill had already begun integrating itself into his body, but knowledge alone wasn''t enough. He needed to push it to its limits.


    The system pulsed.


    [[ Task: Survive for 10 minutes against the Phantom Wraith using Phantom Step. ]]


    The air shifted.


    A deep, unnatural sound reverberated across the battlefield¡ªlike a whisper stretching through an empty void.


    Then¡ª


    From the swirling abyss ahead, something moved.


    A figure melted from the shadows, its form fluid, distorted, barely distinguishable from the darkness itself. Its body flickered between solid and incorporeal, wraith-like, but its eyes¡­


    They burned with a haunting, silver glow.


    [[ Phantom Wraith ]]


    [[ A creature of pure shadow. It cannot be harmed conventionally. Only movement¡ªonly the mastery of the skill¡ªwill allow you to survive. ]]


    Riven exhaled, his abyssal flames flaring briefly at his fingertips.


    So, no attacking. No countering.


    Just dodging.


    The wraith lunged.


    It moved like liquid darkness, flowing toward him without sound, without warning¡ªa streak of pure shadow slashing toward his throat.


    Riven reacted on instinct, twisting his body to the side¡ªtoo slow.


    Cold ripped through his chest like a blade, his entire body flaring with sharp, burning pain.


    He staggered, gasping. The wound wasn''t physical. The wraith didn''t cut flesh¡ªit cut through existence itself, unraveling his very form.


    The system pulsed.


    [[ Incorrect Execution. ]]


    [[ Phantom Step requires full synchronization with the shadows. Your body resisted the transition. Adjust. ]]


    Riven gritted his teeth.


    Another attack.


    The wraith flickered, disappearing into the void before reappearing directly behind him¡ªa blade of shadow aimed at his spine.


    Riven forced himself to let go.


    The shadows responded.


    The moment the wraith''s attack connected, his body dissolved into darkness, shifting seamlessly into the void. Sear?h the NovelFire.net* website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    For a brief second¡ª


    He was nothing.


    Untouchable.


    Weightless.


    Then, just as quickly¡ªhe reappeared, several feet away, untouched.


    Riven steadied his breath.


    That was it.


    That was Phantom Step.


    He smirked. "Again."


    The wraith didn''t hesitate. It surged forward once more, faster, its movements becoming more erratic, unpredictable.


    Riven didn''t run. He embraced the void.


    The moment the wraith attacked¡ªhe vanished.


    Then reappeared.


    Then vanished again.


    Each transition grew faster, smoother. The moment he stepped, the world blurred, his body shifting through the abyss like a ripple through water.


    The wraith lashed out¡ªbut struck nothing.


    Riven''s confidence sharpened.


    This is mine now.


    He pushed the skill further.


    Not just dodging¡ªbut positioning.


    The wraith lunged¡ªhe flickered behind it.


    It slashed again¡ªhe phased through the attack entirely, reappearing in the air before dropping lightly onto the ground.


    Faster. Smoother.


    The wraith snarled¡ªa soundless, distorted noise¡ªas its prey continued to slip from its grasp.


    Riven grinned.


    The timer on the system flashed.


    [[ 9 minutes survived¡­ ]]


    The wraith made one final, desperate attack¡ªits entire form expanding, engulfing the battlefield in shadow.


    Riven exhaled.


    And then¡ª


    He stepped into the abyss.


    The entire world blinked.


    For one brief moment, Riven wasn''t just moving through the shadows¡ªhe was the shadow.


    Then¡ª


    The wraith''s attack ended, the darkness receding.


    Riven stood completely untouched, several yards away, his body thrumming with energy.


    The system pulsed one final time.


    [[ Task Complete. ]]


    [[ Skill Progress: Phantom Step ]]


    [[ Task: Survive for 10 minutes against two Phantom Wraith using Phantom Step. ]]


    Riven sighed, rolling his shoulders. His breath remained even, but the weight of the training was settling in. Two wraiths now.


    His movements had improved, but there was still resistance¡ªhesitation. The system had made it clear: Phantom Step wasn''t just about moving through shadows; it was about becoming them.


    The two wraiths flickered, their bodies shifting like liquid darkness. Riven barely had time to prepare before they lunged, one from the front, the other from behind.


    He stepped.


    The world blurred¡ªhis form flickered between reality and abyss, shadows swallowing him whole. The attacks missed by inches, the wraiths slicing through empty air.


    He reappeared further away, his stance steady. Faster. More fluid. But not enough.


    They adjusted instantly, relentless, their speed increasing. Riven could feel it now¡ªthe system adapting, forcing him to push further.


    He exhaled. Again.


    The cycle repeated. Attacks. Vanish. Reappear. Dodge. Move.


    Minutes passed. Then hours passed.


    Riven flickered through the training field like a phantom, his form dissolving into darkness and reappearing in an instant as hundreds of wraiths lunged at him from all directions. Shadows writhed, silver eyes burned, and abyssal claws slashed through empty space¡ªnever touching him.


    Riven''s breath came in steady, measured exhales, but his body was drenched in sweat. His robes clung to him, heavy with exhaustion, yet he moved relentlessly.


    Flicker. Vanish. Reappear. Step.


    He was no longer dodging on instinct¡ªhe was controlling the battle.


    Hundreds of Phantom Wraiths surged toward him, their forms merging with the darkness, their claws tearing through the void.


    It didn''t matter.


    Riven was the void.


    He vanished the moment an attack neared, reappearing miles away in an instant, his movements fluid, instinctive. No longer resisting the shadows¡ªembracing them.


    The wraiths adapted, their attacks growing sharper, faster. But Riven was beyond them now.


    A wraith lunged¡ªhe flickered behind it before it even realized it had missed.


    Another swiped at his back¡ªhe stepped into the abyss and appeared in the air, gravity barely catching up before he shifted again.


    He pushed Phantom Step further. Faster. Sharper. Deadlier.


    His stamina burned. His vision blurred. His dark mana raged within him, but still¡ªhe moved.


    The system pulsed.


    [[ Task Complete. ]]


    [[ Skill Mastered: Phantom Step. ]]


    The wraiths froze. Their silver eyes dimmed, their forms disintegrating into mist. The battlefield stilled, leaving only Riven standing amidst the fading remnants of the training space.


    He exhaled.


    Then he vanished¡ªone last time¡ªreappearing at the very edge of the battlefield, a perfect execution of Phantom Step, flawless and effortless.


    A slow smirk curled at the edge of his lips.


    He had won.


    "Exit Training."


    The world fractured and the system spat him back into reality.


    ¡ªx¡ª


    Riven''s eyes snapped open as his consciousness returned, his body still thrumming with energy from the training.


    The familiar torchlight flickered in the underground chamber, the scent of damp stone and dust greeting him like an old friend.


    Nyx was already watching, arms crossed, crimson eyes locked onto him the moment he stirred.


    "How''s the spell?" she asked, her voice edged with curiosity.


    Riven didn''t answer.


    Instead¡ªhe vanished.


    A blur of motion. A whisper of shadows.


    In the blink of an eye, he had moved from the center of the chamber to behind her, silent as death.


    Nyx tensed for just a fraction of a second before she turned, her lips parting into a slow, wicked grin.


    "Oh," she murmured. "I really like this one."


    Riven flexed his fingers, feeling the shadows coil and pulse beneath his skin.


    "Me too," he said. "Because with this, no one will ever see me coming."

 Chapter 94 - 94: Necromancy Temple

    At the break of dawn, before the Academy stirred to life, Riven rose and set off toward the Necromancy Temple.


    The halls were silent, the sky still bathed in pre-dawn darkness as he moved with purpose. Nyx had already melted into his shadow, her presence a quiet, unseen force at his side.


    Reaching Elara''s office, he pressed his pendant against the cold stone wall. The runes embedded within the surface flickered to life, responding to his touch.


    Without hesitation, Riven stepped forward¡ªvanishing through the teleportation gate as the shadows swallowed him whole.


    Darkness folded around Riven, twisting and warping as the teleportation gate pulled him through the abyss. In the span of a single breath, the sensation of weightlessness ended, and solid ground met his boots once more.


    He stepped forward into the Necromancy Temple.


    The air was thick with mana¡ªancient, pulsing, alive. Torches lined the towering walls, casting flickering blue light across the intricate abyssal engravings etched into the stone. The vast halls stretched in every direction, their darkened corridors leading deeper into the temple''s sanctum.


    Nyx stirred in his shadow. "Still hard to believe this place exists," she murmured, her voice brushing against his mind. "Right under the Solis Kingdom''s nose."


    Riven didn''t respond immediately. Instead, he let his gaze sweep over the whispering necromancers moving throughout the temple even at this time in the morning. Cloaked figures drifted past him¡ªsome carrying ancient tomes, others chanting softly as spectral energy coiled around their fingertips.


    This place wasn''t just preserving necromancy.


    It was evolving it.


    He had seen the Grand Hall of Records and the Codex of the Fallen, but now it was time to see what else the temple had to offer.


    Elara was waiting for him ahead, arms folded, her violet eyes sharp with curiosity. "You came early," she noted, a small smile playing at her lips.


    "I wanted to see more of the temple," Riven said smoothly. "I''ve seen your records. I want to see your people."


    Elara''s smile widened slightly. "Then let''s begin." She turned on her heel, motioning for him to follow. "There''s a lot to show you."


    ¡ªx¡ª


    They walked through the temple''s corridors, passing by countless training chambers and study halls.


    The first chamber Riven stepped into was filled with necromancers weaving spectral energy into intricate formations. One was creating a skeletal construct, its bones forming and reshaping as the spellcaster directed its growth with precise movements. Another was binding a shadowy wraith into a vessel, forcing it into the shape of a blade.


    Elara gestured toward them. "We refine necromantic arts here¡ªbinding spirits, forging constructs, enhancing undead with abyssal mana."


    Riven watched in silence, analyzing their techniques. Some were skilled, their control fluid and precise. Others¡­ were weaker. Sloppy.


    His gaze flicked toward a young man at the far side of the chamber, struggling to maintain his grip over a spirit. The wraith thrashed violently, slipping through his mana tethers, resisting his control.


    The spirit snapped free.


    With a piercing wail, it lunged.


    Riven moved before Elara could react.


    Shadows lashed from his fingertips, wrapping around the wraith like chains. The spectral entity screeched, writhing against the sudden, crushing force of his mana.


    Then¡ªsilence. S§×ar?h the N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The wraith collapsed into itself, dissolving into harmless mist.


    The young necromancer¡ªpale and breathless¡ªstared at Riven in shock.


    Riven arched a brow. "If you can''t handle your own summon, you have no right to call yourself a necromancer."


    The student''s face twisted in frustration, but he looked away, saying nothing.


    Elara gave Riven an amused glance. "Not one for patience, are you?"


    Riven smirked. "Not when incompetence is wasting my time."


    They moved on.


    ¡ªx¡ª


    The next chamber was dedicated to abyssal constructs.


    Unlike the previous room, the necromancers here weren''t binding spirits¡ªthey were forging creatures entirely out of raw abyssal mana. The chamber pulsed with energy, the flickering forms of darkened beasts writhing and shifting as their creators refined their shapes.


    Elara gestured toward a particularly large construct¡ªa towering, multi-limbed creature that shimmered with abyssal sigils along its form. "Abyssal constructs are a step beyond standard necromantic summons. They are not bound spirits, but entirely new entities, molded from pure energy. They do not retain the memories of the dead¡ªthey are tools. Weapons."


    Riven hummed in approval. This was useful.


    Necromancy had always relied on corpses, on spirits. But this¡ªthis was something that did not require the remnants of the past.


    It was creation.


    As he observed, a voice cut through the air¡ªa sharp, dismissive tone.


    "You seem interested," someone sneered. "But do you even understand what you''re looking at?"


    Riven turned, his gaze locking onto a necromancer draped in finely embroidered black robes, his posture exuding arrogance. His icy silver eyes gleamed with superiority as he crossed his arms.


    Elara''s expression flattened. "This is Vael," she said, sounding distinctly unamused. "One of our more¡­ confident members."


    Vael smirked. "Confidence is just competence recognized." His gaze flickered over Riven, assessing him with open disdain. "Elara tells me you''re talented, but I don''t see anything special."


    Nyx practically growled in his shadow. "Oh, please let me kill him."


    Riven held back a smirk. This was almost too easy.


    He tilted his head, amusement flickering in his abyssal eyes. "You think you''re special, then?"


    Vael scoffed. "I''ve trained here for years. I''ve mastered techniques that most necromancers only dream of. Abyssal constructs, soul infusion, spectral transmutation¡ªyou name it, I can do it."


    Elara pinched the bridge of her nose. "Vael¡ª"


    But Riven cut her off, his grin widening. "Then prove it."


    Silence fell across the chamber.


    Vael''s expression darkened. "What?"


    Riven stepped forward, his presence pressing down like an unseen force. "You say you''re better than me. Fine. Show me."


    The challenge was set.


    The necromancers around them stopped their work, turning to watch.


    Elara sighed. "Oh, for¡ª" She paused, then exhaled. "Fine. But keep it controlled."


    Vael''s arrogance didn''t waver. He stepped forward, raising a hand. Abyssal mana surged around him, condensing into a shifting mass of energy.


    He smirked. "I''ll summon a construct. Try to keep up."


    Dark tendrils coiled together, forming the skeletal frame of a beast, its body reinforced by pure abyssal energy. It took shape in an instant¡ªa towering creature with jagged limbs, its abyssal core pulsing like a heartbeat.


    The surrounding necromancers murmured in appreciation.


    Vael turned, smug. "Let''s see you¡ª"


    Riven didn''t wait.


    He raised his hand¡ªand his abyssal flames roared to life.


    Darkness surged outward, swallowing the space around him in an instant. His abyssal mana tore into the void, shaping, twisting, and bending the energy with effortless precision.


    A second construct formed.


    But unlike Vael''s¡ªit wasn''t just a mass of energy.


    It had presence.


    Its shape was solid¡ªan obsidian beast with glowing blue veins pulsing through its frame. Its abyssal core radiated a controlled, terrifying pressure, its sheer existence overwhelming the room with crushing intensity.


    Vael staggered back, disbelief flickering across his face.


    Riven let out a low chuckle, tilting his head. "Wow¡­ and that was only my first try."


    The chamber erupted into murmurs, shock rippling through the gathered necromancers.


    Of course it was his first try. His power was passed down from the previous Shadow King. Even if he had never attempted this before, it was his birthright.


    Vael''s smug expression shattered.


    His mouth opened, but no words came out.


    The weight of what had just happened pressed down on the chamber like a leaden shroud. The gathered necromancers whispered among themselves, some in awe, others in stunned disbelief. The sheer difference between Vael''s creation and Riven''s was undeniable.


    One was a construct. The other was a force of nature.


    Riven tilted his head slightly, studying Vael''s frozen stance with quiet amusement. "Something wrong?" he asked, his voice smooth, casual. "You looked so confident a moment ago."


    Vael''s hands clenched into fists. His abyssal construct trembled slightly, the form already unraveling as his concentration wavered. "You¡ª" His jaw tightened. "You''ve done this before."


    Riven raised a brow. "What gave you that idea?"


    Elara, who had remained silent until now, exhaled a slow breath. "Enough," she said, her tone firm but not unkind. "Vael, I believe you have your answer."


    Vael''s expression twisted, but he said nothing.


    Riven flicked his fingers, and the abyssal energy forming his construct pulsed¡ªthen shattered. The beast dissolved into nothingness, fading like smoke into the void.


    Vael dismissed his own construct a second later, his pride clearly wounded. Without another word, he turned on his heel and strode toward the exit.


    The other necromancers parted for him, whispering.


    Riven smirked slightly, turning to Elara. "I thought your best would be¡­ more impressive."


    Elara sighed, though there was a flicker of amusement in her gaze. "You do realize you just humiliated one of the most arrogant necromancers here, right?"


    "Trust me, that was the fun part."


    Elara shook her head but didn''t argue. Instead, she glanced at the remaining necromancers, some of whom were still staring at Riven with thinly veiled shock. "Well," she said, voice lighter, "I suppose you''ve made an impression."


    Riven stretched his fingers, feeling the lingering pulse of abyssal energy in his veins. "It seems so."


    One of the necromancers¡ªa woman with silver-threaded hair and sharp, keen eyes¡ªstepped forward hesitantly. "That technique¡­ That wasn''t just an abyssal construct," she murmured, watching him carefully. "That was something else."


    Riven met her gaze. "And?"


    She hesitated, but then a small smile touched her lips. "And¡­ I''d like to see more."


    A murmur of agreement passed through a few others in the chamber.


    Riven could see it now¡ªthe shift. The quiet change in their expressions. The way their interest sharpened. He had come here to observe, to see what the temple could offer him.


    But now?


    Now, he had their attention.


    Now, they wanted to see more of him.


    And that, more than anything, was exactly what he needed.


    Elara studied him for a long moment before chuckling softly. "Looks like you''re already making a name for yourself here."


    Riven''s smirk widened. "Well, then." He clasped his hands behind his back, his abyssal flames flickering briefly at his fingertips. "Let''s see what else this temple has to offer."


    Elara led Riven deeper into the temple, past corridors lined with darkened runes that pulsed with latent abyssal energy. The air grew heavier with each step, thick with the presence of necromantic magic. The murmurs of the gathered necromancers still lingered in the halls behind them, but Riven paid them little mind.


    They reached another chamber, its entrance marked by twin obsidian pillars wrapped in spiraling abyssal sigils. The moment they crossed the threshold, a shift in the air signaled the immense energy contained within.


    Riven''s eyes flickered with interest.


    Inside, necromancers were gathered in structured formations, their bodies surrounded by shifting, spectral energy. Some were manipulating spirits, forging them into weapons or armor. Others were experimenting with hybrid spells¡ªmixing abyssal mana with necromantic constructs in ways that blurred the lines between creation and destruction.


    At the far end, an elder necromancer stood before a grand, circular platform. His voice was low, steady, commanding as he guided a group of students through an advanced soul-binding technique.


    "This is the Hall of Mastery," Elara explained. "Only those who have proven themselves are allowed to train here. We refine the highest forms of necromantic magic¡ªsoulforging, abyssal reinforcement, spectral augmentation. Everything that was lost with the fall of the Shadow Kingdom."


    Riven scanned the chamber, noting the precision with which these necromancers wielded their magic. They weren''t struggling students fumbling with the basics. These were the temple''s elite.


    "I see potential," he admitted, his gaze sweeping over the necromancers honing their craft. The thought lingered¡ªif these people helped train his soldiers back in the Shadow Kingdom, how quickly would his forces rise?


    Elara folded her arms, studying him with a knowing look. "Shall we test your skills again?"


    Riven raised a brow. "Again? I thought putting Vael in his place was enough entertainment for one morning."


    She smirked. "Think of that as the warm-up. If you truly want to see what this temple is capable of, you''ll have to prove you''re worthy of it."


    She gestured toward the center of the chamber, where a circular dueling platform was embedded with layered abyssal runes. A few necromancers had already taken notice, pausing their training to glance in their direction.


    "Elara¡­" A deep, measured voice cut through the air. The elder necromancer at the far end of the chamber turned toward them, his gaze settling on Riven with unreadable weight. His robes were layered in dark silver embroidery, and his presence alone commanded respect.


    "Elara, who have you brought to our Hall?" the elder asked.


    Elara inclined her head slightly. "Master Aldric, this is Riven. A gifted necromancer who has taken an interest in our teachings."


    Master Aldric''s gaze flickered over him, assessing. "Gifted, you say?"


    Riven met his gaze evenly. "You could say that."


    Aldric''s expression remained impassive. Then he turned toward the necromancers around him. "One of you," he called, his voice carrying an air of finality, "test him."


    The gathered necromancers shifted, exchanging glances. After a moment, a tall, lean figure stepped forward. Unlike Vael, there was no arrogance in his expression¡ªonly quiet confidence. His piercing dark eyes locked onto Riven as he descended onto the dueling platform.


    Elara exhaled softly. "Of course it had to be him¡­"


    Riven glanced at her. "Who is he?"


    "Kieran," she murmured. "One of the strongest necromancers here. He doesn''t waste time with theatrics¡ªhe fights to win."


    Riven''s smirk widened slightly. "Good."


    He stepped onto the platform, facing Kieran as the abyssal runes ignited beneath their feet. The watching necromancers formed a loose circle around them, anticipation thick in the air.


    Kieran''s voice was calm as he studied Riven. "No restrictions. We fight until one of us yields or can no longer continue."


    Riven rolled his shoulders, stretching his fingers. "Works for me."


    A moment of silence.


    Then the runes flared.


    Kieran moved first.


    A pulse of abyssal energy surged around him as his shadows twisted into spectral chains, lashing toward Riven like hungry serpents.


    Riven sidestepped, his form flickering as he phased through the attack with Phantom Step. The moment he reappeared, he countered¡ªdark tendrils surging from his palm, aimed to strike.


    But Kieran was fast.


    He snapped his fingers, and the chains around him solidified into barriers, deflecting Riven''s assault with ease. Without hesitation, he retaliated¡ªhis mana condensing into three wraith-like figures, their hollow eyes burning as they lunged toward Riven.


    Riven''s smirk didn''t waver.


    Abyssal flames erupted around him, devouring the wraiths before they could make contact. Their spectral forms twisted and shattered, dissolving into nothingness.


    Kieran''s eyes narrowed slightly, but he didn''t hesitate. He adjusted instantly, shifting his approach.


    He wove his fingers through the air, tracing intricate sigils¡ªsummoning something larger.


    The ground trembled.


    A massive abyssal construct erupted from the shadows¡ªa beast twice Riven''s height, its claws glinting with unnatural sharpness.


    The watching necromancers murmured, recognizing the advanced technique.


    But Riven remained unimpressed.


    Without missing a beat, he raised a single hand.


    Darkness coiled at his fingertips.


    Then, with a casual flick of his wrist, his abyssal energy surged outward.


    The massive construct that Kieran had summoned¡ªone that should have taken minutes to break through¡ªcollapsed in an instant.


    Its form shattered.


    Its core was consumed.


    Silence.


    Of course, his flames could consume anything forged from the abyss. He was the Shadow King, the ruler of darkness itself¡ªits power was his to command, its essence his to devour.


    Kieran took a slow step back, his lips parting slightly as his summon dissolved into nothingness. His abyssal energy flickered unsteadily, as if something had just unraveled within him.


    He didn''t understand.


    He had summoned a fully formed abyssal construct. A technique that took years to perfect.


    And yet, Riven had dismissed it with a mere flick of his wrist.


    Riven let out a slow breath, shaking his head. "You''re good," he admitted, amusement laced in his tone. "But you''re missing something."


    Kieran clenched his jaw. "And what would that be?"


    Riven''s abyssal energy pulsed, surging around him in controlled waves. The power that coursed through his veins¡ªthe legacy of the Shadow King¡ªwas undeniable.


    "You''re missing purpose," he said simply.


    Kieran frowned.


    Riven continued. "You''re summoning constructs as weapons, as tools. But you''re still holding back¡ªstill thinking like a student. When I summon something, it isn''t just a construct."


    He raised his hand again.


    This time, the air around him trembled.


    Abyssal shadows twisted into something tangible, something alive. It wasn''t just a summoned entity¡ªit was an extension of himself.


    The runes beneath them dimmed.


    For the briefest moment, the temple itself seemed to still.


    Then, just as quickly as it had formed, Riven dismissed it.


    Kieran''s hands twitched at his sides.


    The watching necromancers didn''t speak.


    Elara inhaled sharply, her voice barely above a whisper. "This is¡­"


    "¡­ beyond anything I''ve ever seen."


    The silence stretched, heavy and suffocating. The gathered necromancers stood frozen, their expressions a mixture of awe, disbelief, and something else¡ªsomething closer to reverence.


    Riven lowered his hand, watching Kieran closely. The other necromancer was still processing what had just happened, his breathing uneven. His summon had been destroyed so effortlessly, so completely, that he looked as though he was questioning reality itself.


    Master Aldric finally spoke, his voice calm but carrying the weight of undeniable recognition. "This¡­ is not the work of an ordinary necromancer."


    Elara swallowed, glancing at Riven with something unreadable in her violet eyes. "No," she murmured. "It isn''t."


    Kieran exhaled, steadying himself. He wasn''t humiliated, not in the way Vael had been. He was simply¡­ shaken.


    "I yield," he said quietly, stepping back from the dueling platform. His gaze met Riven''s, and for the first time since the match began, he nodded. "That was beyond anything I''ve ever faced."


    Riven inclined his head slightly in acknowledgment. He could respect Kieran''s composure, his ability to recognize the difference in power without clinging to pride. That alone set him apart from most of the necromancers here.


    Master Aldric stepped forward, his gaze lingering on Riven with newfound interest. "You''ve proven yourself," he said. "More than that¡ªyou''ve demonstrated an understanding of abyssal magic that exceeds even our highest teachings."


    Elara let out a slow breath, "I expected you to be skilled, Riven, but this¡­ this is something else entirely."


    Riven blue eyes flickered with amusement. "I aim to exceed expectations."


    A few necromancers exchanged hushed whispers, their gazes flickering between Riven and the space where his abyssal creation had existed. Some looked intrigued, others wary.


    Riven didn''t miss it.


    They were beginning to see him as something more than just an outsider.


    Master Aldric gestured toward the deeper corridors of the temple. "Come with me," he said. "There is something you should see."


    Riven arched a brow but followed without hesitation. Nyx stirred in his shadow, her voice brushing against his mind.


    "You''re collecting quite the following," she murmured, amusement laced in her tone.


    "They''ll be valuable," Riven mused inwardly. "Best to show them just enough to recognize my superiority¡ªwithout pushing them to the point of fear."


    Elara fell into step beside him, her expression thoughtful. "I don''t suppose you''ll tell me where you learned all of this?"


    Riven glanced at her, a knowing smirk tugging at his lips. "Trade secret."


    Elara narrowed her eyes but didn''t press further.


    They descended deeper into the temple and eventually arrived at a grand chamber, one unlike any Riven had seen before.


    It was circular, lined with towering obsidian pillars, each one etched with abyssal sigils. At the center stood an ancient altar, its surface carved with intricate markings that seemed to shift and writhe in the dim light.


    Master Aldric stopped before it, turning to face Riven. "This is the Sanctum of the Abyss," he said. "A place where only the most powerful necromancers may step."


    Riven''s gaze swept over the chamber, taking in the towering obsidian pillars and the abyssal sigils pulsing faintly along their surface. The altar at the center radiated a presence unlike anything else in the temple. It wasn''t just a relic¡ªit was something alive. Or perhaps, something waiting.


    Master Aldric stepped forward, his expression unreadable as he gestured toward the altar. "The Sanctum of the Abyss has existed since the temple''s founding," he explained. "This place is a conduit, a connection to the void itself. The runes carved into the altar contain ancient knowledge, secrets long lost to time."


    Elara exhaled, arms folded. "The abyssal energy here is different from anywhere else in the temple. We''ve tried to unlock its full purpose for generations, but¡­" she shook her head, trailing off.


    Riven stepped closer, the weight of the altar''s presence pressing against his senses. The carvings weren''t just decorative¡ªthey shifted, rearranging in subtle, nearly imperceptible ways, as though responding to his presence.


    Then, his eyes flickered to something else.


    Behind the altar, embedded into the chamber''s farthest wall, was something that did not belong.


    A gate.


    Unlike the teleportation runes used to move through the temple, this structure was massive¡ªtwisting metal and abyssal stone fused together, forming a doorway to nowhere. Riven could feel the weight of it pressing against reality itself, the void churning just beyond its threshold.


    But it was dormant. Incomplete.


    Nyx''s voice slithered into his mind, quieter than before. "It''s one of those gates..."


    He didn''t react outwardly, but his mind sharpened. "You recognize it?"


    "I do," she admitted. "Not just from old records, but from memory."


    That caught his full attention. "Explain."


    Nyx''s presence coiled deeper in his shadow. "In the Abyss, there are many gates¡ªpassages between realms, linking different layers of existence. Most are broken or sealed, remnants of something ancient even before my time."


    "And this one?"


    "This¡­" Her voice held a strange weight. "It''s not just a gate. It''s a threshold. A bridge meant to connect this world to the Abyss itself. A path that shouldn''t exist."


    Riven''s gaze flickered back to the swirling void within the archway. "Then why is it still closed?"


    "Because it requires something." Nyx''s voice was firm. "A key."


    Riven''s fingers curled slightly. "Do you know what it is?"


    A pause.


    "¡­I have an idea," she admitted. "But I need time to study the runes. This isn''t something to rush."


    Her hesitation wasn''t like her. Nyx had always been decisive, cunning¡ªsure. For her to tread carefully meant the gate was more than just an artifact.


    It was a risk.


    Riven exhaled slowly, keeping his expression unreadable. "Take your time," he told her silently. "But find me answers."


    "Of course," she murmured.


    Meanwhile, Master Aldric studied Riven closely. "You''re drawn to it," the elder necromancer noted.


    Riven gave him an unreadable look. "Anyone with abyssal magic would be."


    Aldric hummed, as if weighing that response. "Perhaps."


    Elara, watching them both, finally spoke. "What do you think, Riven?"


    He turned back to the gate, gaze steady. I think I could open it. But that wasn''t something they needed to know.


    Not yet.


    Instead, he let his lips curve slightly. "I think it''s waiting for the right hands."


    Aldric and Elara exchanged glances.


    "And you believe those hands could be yours?" Aldric mused.


    Riven chuckled, turning away from the gate as if the matter wasn''t important. "Time will tell."


    With that, he strode away, leaving the elder necromancers to their speculations.


    But in his mind, Nyx''s voice whispered one last warning.


    "Be careful, my King. Some gates are meant to stay closed."

 Chapter 95 - 95: Spectral Forging

    Riven left the Sanctum of the Abyss, his mind turning over Nyx''s words. A key. A threshold. A risk. He didn''t like unknowns, not when it came to abyssal magic. He would give Nyx time to study the runes, but that didn''t mean he would sit idle.


    There were other things he needed to test.


    His footsteps carried him back through the winding halls of the Necromancy Temple, past murmuring students and scholars, until he reached the Hall of Mastery. The air here thrummed with structured power, a stark contrast to the untamed abyssal force in the Sanctum. sea??h th§× N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Inside, the elite necromancers were honing their craft. Some practiced soul-binding, weaving spirits into enchanted armor and weapons. Others shaped abyssal constructs, fine-tuning their control over pure energy. And a few¡ªthose with the most refined mastery¡ªwere performing spectral forging.


    That was what caught Riven''s eye.


    At the far end of the chamber, a necromancer stood before a summoning circle, hands outstretched. The runes beneath him pulsed as he focused, his mana latching onto the lingering remnants of the dead. A faint wail echoed through the room as a spirit¡ªhalf-formed and writhing¡ªwas dragged from the abyss.


    Riven watched as the necromancer forced the ghoul-like entity into submission. The spirit screeched, its form flickering as its will was crushed beneath the weight of the caster''s mana. Then, the true forging began.


    The necromancer''s hands twisted, manipulating the wraith''s essence like molten metal. The spirit''s body stretched, condensed, and sharpened¡ªits formless shape molded into the form of a blade. A translucent edge gleamed in the dim torchlight, humming with bound spectral energy.


    It was a weapon crafted from the very soul of the dead.


    Riven''s gaze flickered. Interesting.


    This wasn''t mere mana manipulation. This was dominion over the dead, binding them to a singular, permanent purpose. It required absolute control, an iron grip over not just abyssal energy, but the will of the spirit itself.


    His lips curled slightly.


    Without a word, Riven moved to an empty summoning circle.


    Nyx stirred in his shadow. "Now this I want to see."


    He ignored her, stepping into the rune-inscribed ring. The technique was clear: summon, subjugate, forge.


    He stretched out his hand, letting his abyssal mana seep into the runes.


    A pulse.


    The air grew cold.


    Then¡ªa wail.


    The shadows around him trembled as a ghastly form materialized before him. The wraith shuddered violently, its form flickering between a humanoid outline and an amorphous swirl of mist. Its hollow eyes locked onto him, seething with mindless hunger.


    Riven clenched his fingers.


    The wraith lunged.


    But Riven was faster.


    His shadows lashed forward, wrapping around the spirit''s form like chains. The ghoul screeched, thrashing wildly as his grip tightened.


    It fought him.


    Most necromancers eased spirits into submission, breaking them over time. But Riven? He crushed them.


    His mana poured into the wraith, overpowering its will in an instant. The specter writhed, its movements growing sluggish as his abyssal energy devoured its defiance.


    Then, he began the forging.


    Riven''s focus sharpened. The spirit''s body twisted, shifting beneath his command. It resisted at first, but his grip never faltered. He pulled, reshaped, and refined¡ªstretching its essence into the form of a blade.


    It was like bending steel with his mind.


    The wraith shrieked, its formless body stretching into something tangible.


    His breath came slow and steady, his concentration absolute. Unlike shaping raw mana, this required more than control. It required unyielding dominance over the spirit''s existence.


    His fingers curled.


    The weapon solidified.


    A spectral greatsword hovered in his grasp, its form shimmering between material and ethereal. The edges glowed faintly, wisps of lingering soul-energy twisting around it like fading embers.


    It wasn''t just a weapon.


    It was a bound soul, shackled into permanence.


    Riven exhaled, flexing his fingers around the hilt.


    It wasn''t perfect.


    The shape was stable, but he could feel the lingering remnants of resistance within the blade. The spirit hadn''t been fully broken yet¡ªit still retained fragments of its past defiance.


    That wouldn''t do.


    With a flick of his mana, he poured abyssal energy into the weapon.


    A final, strangled wail rang out¡ªand then silence.


    The greatsword stopped flickering.


    It was no longer just a struggling spirit, forced into the shape of a weapon.


    It was a perfect blade.


    A pulse of abyssal resonance rippled through the room.


    A few necromancers turned, sensing the shift in energy.


    Riven lifted the weapon, turning it over in his hands. It was light, far lighter than a weapon of its size should have been, yet he could feel the sheer lethality radiating from its edge.


    Nyx''s voice curled through his mind, laced with quiet amusement.


    "Not bad for your first attempt," she mused. "But I could do it better."


    He scoffed quietly, rolling his wrist to test the balance.


    Before he could analyze further, a voice cut through the air.


    "You did that just now?"


    Riven turned.


    Kieran stood a few feet away, arms crossed. Unlike before, there was no arrogance in his posture¡ªonly curiosity, and maybe a hint of something deeper.


    Riven didn''t answer immediately. Instead, he swung the blade downward¡ªand it sliced effortlessly through the stone training floor, carving a deep, smooth line.


    The necromancers watching stiffened.


    Finally, he looked at Kieran.


    "I did."


    Kieran''s gaze flickered between Riven and the newly forged weapon. "Most of us take months to subjugate a spirit into a proper weapon."


    Riven gave a small chuckle, "I seem to have a natural talent for necromancy."


    Kieran exhaled through his nose, studying the spectral greatsword with wary interest. He took a step closer, his sharp gaze tracing the edges of the blade.


    "This is beyond just talent," he muttered. "The forging, the stability¡ªit''s as if the spirit was never separate to begin with."


    Riven tilted his head slightly, amusement flickering in his blue eyes. "I just never gave it a choice to begin with."


    Kieran''s expression flickered, but he said nothing. Around them, a few of the other necromancers had taken notice, whispering amongst themselves. Spectral forging was an advanced technique, something only the most disciplined could master after rigorous practice. Yet Riven had done it in a single attempt¡ªand with a dominance that unsettled even the seasoned necromancers.


    The blade still hummed in his grasp, the abyssal energy within it perfectly tamed. No lingering resistance. No echoes of the spirit that once was.


    It was absolute.


    He gave the greatsword a final once-over before dismissing it. The blade unraveled, its spectral essence dissolving into raw abyssal energy before vanishing entirely. The act was as effortless as if he had merely willed it out of existence.


    Kieran exhaled, shaking his head. "If you plan to stay in the temple, you''re going to unsettle a lot of people."


    Riven gave a lazy shrug. "Then they should get used to it."


    The necromancer studied him for a long moment before, to Riven''s mild surprise, a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.


    "Fair enough." Kieran turned away, his voice carrying a trace of something Riven hadn''t expected¡ªrespect. "I look forward to seeing what you do next."


    With that, he strode off, leaving the murmuring necromancers behind.


    Riven watched him go, then flexed his fingers. The sensation of the forged weapon still lingered, the memory of its form imprinted on his mana. He could refine it, make it stronger. Next time, he wouldn''t just forge a weapon.


    He would forge something far deadlier.


    Nyx hummed in agreement.


    "You''re learning fast," Nyx murmured, her voice laced with amusement. "It seems I should share a little secret about this technique."


    Riven arched a brow. "Oh?"


    "There''s an old legend," she continued, her tone carrying the weight of something almost forgotten. "It''s said that if a necromancer is strong enough, they can summon a spirit of immense power¡ªone unlike any ordinary wraith. And if they succeed in forging it into a weapon¡­ its soul remains intact."


    Riven''s eyes sharpened. "And what does that mean?"


    Nyx''s presence coiled tighter around him, her voice dropping into something almost conspiratorial.


    "It means the weapon wouldn''t just be powerful," she whispered. "It would be alive. A force beyond anything forged by mortal hands."


    "And how do you know this is true?" Riven scoffed, skepticism lacing his tone. "How do you know it isn''t just another fabricated legend?"


    Nyx''s voice curled through his mind, smooth and self-assured.


    "Because¡­" he could hear the smirk in her words, dripping with amusement. "I happen to own a weapon just like that."


    ¡ªx¡ª


    Riven stood in the mausoleum beneath the Academy, the dim glow of torches casting long, shifting shadows across the stone walls. The air was thick with residual death energy, a quiet, lingering hum that most would find suffocating.


    For Riven, it was familiar.


    Nyx emerged from his shadow, her form solidifying beside him. She stretched briefly, groaning as she rubbed her joints. "Gods I''m stiff from being stuffed in there all day."


    Riven crossed his arms, watching her expectantly. "You said you have a weapon like the one in the legend. Show me."


    Nyx sighed. "Impatient, as always."


    She lifted her hand, abyssal energy swirling at her fingertips. Unlike the raw force Riven wielded, hers was different¡ªrefined, subtle, precise. Shadows coiled together, condensing into a solid form. A heartbeat later, a weapon materialized in her grasp.


    A blade¡ªsleek, obsidian-black, its edges rimmed with a faint, ghostly blue light. It wasn''t just forged from abyssal energy; it radiated something deeper, something sentient. The air around it crackled, charged with an unnatural presence.


    And then¡ªit spoke.


    A voice, low and smooth, echoed through the chamber.


    "You haven''t summoned me in quite some time, Nyx."


    Riven''s eyes narrowed slightly as he examined the weapon. This wasn''t an ordinary spectral blade. The essence within it wasn''t just bound¡ªit was aware.


    Nyx twirled the sword lazily between her fingers, her expression relaxed. "Did you miss me?" she teased.


    A chuckle, quiet but amused, resonated from the blade itself. "As much as one can miss their captor."


    Riven''s interest sharpened. "It has a will of its own."


    Nyx''s obsidian eyes flickered toward him, a knowing gleam in them. "Not just a will. A soul."


    She lifted the blade slightly, letting the spectral energy shimmer along its edge. "This isn''t just a weapon, Riven. It was once a powerful spirit, an entity too strong to be fully erased. Instead of consuming it, I forged it into something¡­ better."


    The voice from the blade spoke again, a wry amusement lacing its tone. "Better is a matter of perspective."


    Riven studied the weapon, feeling the subtle, pulsing life within it. Most necromancers broke spirits entirely, molding them into servitude. But this¡­ this was something else. The soul inside hadn''t been shattered¡ªit had been reshaped, bound in a way that allowed it to persist.


    "Does it have a name?" he asked.


    Nyx smirked. "You can ask it yourself."


    Riven turned his gaze to the weapon, his dark mana subtly reaching out, testing the nature of its bond.


    The voice hummed, as if sensing his scrutiny. "I was called many things in life, but now¡­ I am Erebus."


    A fitting name.


    Riven''s fingers twitched slightly. This was a path he hadn''t considered before. Spirits were usually tools, subjugated forces bent to a necromancer''s will. But what if they could be more? What if, instead of breaking them completely, he refined them into something greater?


    Nyx watched his expression carefully, then tilted her head. "Now do you understand? The legend isn''t just a myth. If you''re strong enough¡ªif your control is absolute¡ªyou can create something like this."


    Riven''s mind turned over the possibilities.


    This wasn''t just about forging spectral weapons.


    This was about wielding something with true consciousness, a bound soul that retained its power, its instincts, its knowledge.


    And if a weapon like that could be forged¡­


    His gaze flickered to Nyx. "I assume you''re not just showing me this to brag."


    Nyx smirked. "Hardly. I''m showing you because I believe you could forge one yourself." She twirled Erebus effortlessly in her grip before letting it dissolve back into the shadows. "But don''t get ahead of yourself." Her obsidian eyes gleamed. "Even I can''t maintain the blade for long without draining my mana dry. If you want to wield something like this, you''ll need to become much stronger."


    "You can''t wield it for long?" Riven asked, his brows furrowing.


    "Before the fall of the Shadow Kingdom, I could wield this blade effortlessly," Nyx murmured, her fingers tracing the air where Erebus had vanished. "But since returning from the Abyss, I''ve been trying to restore my mana heart." She exhaled, a flicker of frustration crossing her features. "It''s taking far longer than I''d like."


    Silence stretched between them, the weight of her words settling in the dim mausoleum.


    Then, Riven spoke, his voice measured. "Nyx¡­ what circle are you at?"


    She blinked, tilting her head slightly, as if the question hadn''t even occurred to her. Then, with a small, amused smirk, she answered.


    "Seventh."

 Chapter 96 - 96: I need to train more…

    Riven froze. The words replayed in his mind, over and over, refusing to settle into something comprehensible.


    Silence stretched between them, thick and heavy.


    "Seventh¡­" he finally echoed, his voice quieter than before. His throat felt dry. "You''re a seventh-circle mage?"


    Nyx grinned. "Yep!" she said with an almost casual air, as if she hadn''t just shattered his entire understanding of their power scale. "Krux, Mal, and I are all at the Seventh Circle. Damon and Aria are at the Sixth."


    Riven exhaled slowly, his vision swaying slightly as the weight of that knowledge crashed down on him like an avalanche. He moved to sit on a nearby stone bench, gripping the edge as he stared at Nyx¡ªseeing her in an entirely new light.


    She watched him, amusement flickering in her obsidian eyes. "Well, I was a Seventh Circle mage," she admitted. "But my mana still hasn''t fully recovered since returning from the Abyss." She shrugged, completely unbothered. "Right now, percentage-wise, I''d say I''m around the Fourth Circle¡ªmaybe bordering on the Fifth."


    Riven ran a hand down his face, exhaling sharply.


    He had been breaking his body, tearing himself apart, just to reached the Third Circle¡ªand she was telling him that at her weakest, she was already beyond him? That Krux, Mal, and the others had been at these levels all along?


    He let out a short, humorless laugh.


    "¡­I need to train more."


    Nyx smirked, crossing her arms as she leaned against the mausoleum''s cold stone wall. "You say that like we haven''t been telling you to take your strength more seriously," she teased. "Though, I have to admit, your progress has been impressive. You went from practically being clueless about mana to becoming a third circle mage in what? A matter of months?"


    Riven exhaled through his nose, his gaze still locked onto the ground. "Not enough. It''s still not enough." His fingers curled into fists against his knees. "I thought I was catching up¡ªthat I was finally getting strong enough to stand on the same level as you all - even above that. But if this is the gap I''m dealing with, then I''ve barely even started."


    Nyx''s amusement dimmed slightly as she tilted her head. "Riven, there''s no shame in still growing. None of us were born at the Seventh Circle. We had to claw our way there." She pushed off the wall and walked toward him, her presence looming even without fully revealing herself. "And besides, if we''re being honest, your raw potential? It''s higher than all of us."


    Riven finally lifted his gaze, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Higher?"


    Nyx nodded. "Higher. You think Velmorian chose you just because you were convenient? No. He saw something in you¡ªa potential that even we don''t fully understand yet. You''re still in the early stages of unlocking what you can really do." She smirked, sharp and knowing. "And if you think we don''t notice it, you''re blind."


    Riven stayed silent for a moment before leaning back against the stone, exhaling slowly. "It still doesn''t change the fact that I''m behind." His voice was quieter this time, not frustration but reflection. "I hate being behind."


    Nyx chuckled, crouching in front of him so their eyes were level. "You won''t be for long. If there''s anything I''ve learned about you, it''s that you don''t stay at the bottom for long." She poked his forehead lightly, grinning as his scowl deepened. "But don''t expect to surpass me anytime soon. I''ve got a head start."


    Riven swatted her hand away, rolling his eyes. "We''ll see."


    "We will," Nyx said smugly. She stood, stretching her arms over her head. "Now, I did just show you my blade and give you a glimpse into a whole new level of spectral forging. So, are you going to mope, or are you going to start figuring out how to create something even better?" S§×arch* The N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Riven glanced at her, then let out a slow breath. "How did you do it?" His voice was thoughtful now, turning toward curiosity. "How did you forge Erebus? You didn''t just bind a spirit¡ªyou said it still thinks. Still exists. What made it different from any other spectral weapon?"


    Nyx''s expression shifted, amusement fading just slightly as something more contemplative settled in. She leaned back against the wall again, crossing her arms as she spoke. "The process isn''t that different from normal spectral forging, at least at the start. The difference is the spirit itself. Most wraiths, specters, or abyssal souls we forge into weapons are either too weak-willed or already too fragmented to resist the process. Their existence is shaped into a weapon, and that''s all they become."


    She tilted her head slightly, glancing toward where she had summoned Erebus just minutes ago. "But some spirits¡ªrare ones¡ªare too strong-willed. Instead of being completely broken down, they retain themselves. Their will carries over into the weapon, and if the wielder is strong enough to withstand that presence¡­ well, the result is something like Erebus."


    Riven absorbed her words in silence before speaking. "And how do you control a weapon like that? A weapon with its own mind?"


    Nyx''s smirk returned, though there was something darker beneath it. "You don''t control it," she said simply. "You command it. You make it respect you." Her obsidian eyes flickered with something unreadable. "It''s a partnership, in a way. But one built on absolute dominance. If I ever faltered, if I ever became weaker than Erebus¡­ it would turn on me in an instant."


    Riven frowned slightly, turning the information over in his mind. "So it''s a balance between forging the strongest possible weapon while making sure it doesn''t become too strong for the wielder."


    "Exactly," Nyx confirmed. "And trust me, it''s a dangerous line to walk. More than a few necromancers have tried to create weapons like Erebus, only to lose themselves in the process. Either their own mana gets drained trying to sustain the blade, or the weapon turns on them entirely." She grinned again, flashing sharp teeth. "But you? I think you have what it takes to succeed."


    Riven huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head. "And here I was, thinking spectral forging was already advanced enough."


    Nyx gave him a pointed look. "You should know by now, Riven. There''s always something stronger." She pushed off the wall and turned toward the mausoleum''s exit. "Now, are you going to keep brooding, or are you going to start training?"


    Riven stood, stretching slightly. "You already know the answer to that."


    Nyx smirked. "Good. Because if you are going to forge a weapon like Erebus, you''ll need more than just raw talent." She glanced at him over her shoulder. "You''ll need to find a spirit strong enough to make it worth your while."


    Riven''s lips curled slightly. "I suppose I should start looking, then."


    Nyx''s voice carried the same amusement as always, but there was something else beneath it now. Something expectant.


    "I look forward to seeing what you create."


    ¡ªx¡ª


    The next few days passed without incident. Riven continued monitoring the Shadow Kingdom through his undead, observing its steady expansion with satisfaction. Every report confirmed that the reconstruction was progressing at an impressive pace¡ªnew structures rising, resources flowing in, and the foundations of an empire slowly taking shape.


    Yet, despite the steady march of progress, an odd tension settled in his chest. It was subtle at first, an underlying sense of unease that he couldn''t quite place. The closer the month drew to its end, the stronger it became¡ªlike a whisper at the edge of his thoughts, reminding him of something just out of reach.


    He frowned, his fingers tapping absently against his desk. What was he forgetting?


    ''What''s wrong?'' Nyx''s voice curled through Riven''s mind, smooth yet tinged with curiosity. She remained hidden within his shadow as he sat at a worn wooden desk in one of the Necromancy Temple''s smaller libraries. The dim candlelight flickered over the aged pages of the history book he had been attempting to read¡ªattempting being the key word.


    Riven exhaled sharply, rubbing his temple. ''I don''t know,'' he admitted, brows knitting together. ''It feels like I''ve forgotten something¡ªsomething important.''


    Nyx hummed thoughtfully, her presence shifting slightly. ''I don''t recall anything significant happening soon. What''s today''s date?''


    Riven''s fingers drummed against the book''s spine. ''The twenty-seventh.''


    And then¡ªhe stilled.


    His breath slowed. A realization clawed its way to the surface, heavy and unexpected.


    ''Oh¡­ is that what''s bothering me?''


    Nyx caught the change in his tone immediately. ''You remembered something?''


    ''My eighteenth birthday.'' Riven sighed, leaning back against the creaking chair. ''I completely forgot about it.''


    A beat of silence. Then¡ª


    ''WHAT?!'' Nyx''s voice practically exploded in his mind, the sheer force of it making him flinch. ''What the¡ªwhy didn''t you tell me?!''


    Riven rubbed his temple harder as his skull throbbed from her outburst. ''Is it important? It''s just another day.''


    ''It''s not just another day!'' Nyx''s frustration was palpable. ''It''s your coming of age! It''s¡ª'' She cut herself off abruptly, and her presence flickered with something unreadable.


    Riven frowned. ''What?''


    ''Wait¡­ what date did you say today was again?''


    ''The twenty-seventh.''


    Another pause. This time, when Nyx spoke, her voice was lower, contemplative. ''Before the fall of the Shadow Kingdom, on the first full moon of autumn, the veil between this world and the Abyss was at its weakest. We held a festival to celebrate the dead and honor their memory.''


    Riven''s frown deepened. The first full moon¡­


    And then it hit him.


    A memory surfaced¡ªone that had been buried beneath layers of everything else that had happened.


    That night after he had learned his first ever spell, his system had been overridden. He had been momentarily pulled into the Abyss.


    The distorted voice had whispered to him then.


    "On the night of the autumn full moon, the undead will be at their strongest¡­ Beware¡­ the academy¡­ find the relic¡­ Abyss Born."


    Riven''s stomach twisted.


    His obsidian dragon egg was a relic¡ªbut something in his gut told him that wasn''t the one the voice had meant.


    ''Nyx¡­'' His voice was steady, but tension curled beneath it. ''That festival you mentioned¡­ when exactly did it take place?''


    Nyx was quiet for a moment before she answered. ''Always on the twenty-eighth. The night of the full moon.''


    The exact night the warning had spoken of.

 Chapter 97 - 97: I want your vengeance

    The tension in Riven''s chest hadn''t eased since he had realized something was coming.


    His eighteenth birthday. The first full moon of autumn. The night the veil between the world of the living and the abyss would be at its weakest.


    Beware¡­ the academy¡­ find the relic¡­ Abyss Born.


    What had it meant?


    Nyx had been quiet since he told her. Not out of disinterest, but something deeper¡ªcalculating, watchful.


    Now, the night of the full moon had arrived.


    Riven stood atop on of the Academy''s towers, overlooking the vast courtyards below. The moon bathed the world in cold silver light, casting elongated shadows across the stone paths. Students moved below, oblivious to the tension in the air, the way the land itself seemed to hold its breath.


    The wind was too still. The night too quiet.


    Then¡ª


    A ripple of something passed through the air, so faint that even Riven barely noticed it. A shift, a breath, an unseen force pressing against the world.


    A pulse from the abyss.


    He stiffened.


    From the depths of his shadow, Nyx stirred, her voice slipping into his mind like a blade through silk. ''It''s starting.''


    Riven''s eyes sharpened as he turned his gaze past the Academy''s outer walls, beyond the iron gates, to the wilderness that stretched behind the academy. The dense treeline loomed in the distance, its towering silhouettes shifting¡ªnot with the wind, but with something unseen.


    The shadows beneath the branches slithered unnaturally, stretching and recoiling like grasping tendrils, moving when nothing should have cast them. The air grew heavier, thick with an ancient, restless presence. A force was stirring in the dark, something beyond the rogue undead drawn to him.


    Something that had been waiting.


    ''It''s not just the dead rising tonight,'' Riven murmured, voice edged with cold certainty.


    Nyx''s presence coiled tighter. ''No. There''s something else out there.''


    Then, the first scream shattered the silence.


    From the Academy''s farthest edge, movement surged from the darkness. A horde of figures¡ªsome skeletal, some wreathed in mist¡ªdragged themselves from the depths of the abyss. Their glowing abyssal hearts pulsed like dying embers, hunger radiating from them in waves.


    Riven''s gaze flicked toward the Academy''s defenses as divine sigils along the perimeter flared to life, golden barriers shimmering into place over the main buildings. Professors and enforcers rushed into position, their mana flaring like stars against the abyssal dark.


    But the undead didn''t throw themselves mindlessly at the barriers.


    They circled, shifting in unnatural patterns¡ªsearching.


    Riven exhaled sharply. ''They''re looking for me.''


    Nyx''s voice curled through his mind, sharper than before. ''And they''re growing stronger the closer they get. The full moon is amplifying them.''


    A massive skeletal beast, twice the height of a man, crashed into one of the outer courtyards. Its abyssal-infused bones shimmered with dark runes, its empty eye sockets locked onto a group of students.


    It inhaled, abyssal energy coiling in its ribs¡ª


    Then a bolt of divine light obliterated its skull.


    Riven''s gaze flicked to the battlefield''s front lines.


    A lone figure stood against the rising tide.


    Cassiel Vaigne.


    The Academy''s strongest second-year.


    His blade burned with golden radiance, the sheer force of his divine magic carving through the undead like a cleansing fire. His armor glowed with layered enchantments, his movements precise, controlled.


    He wasn''t just defending. He was butchering the undead as they came.


    The holy energy in his strikes made Riven''s abyssal mana heart pulse in irritation, the natural opposition of their magics reacting even at this distance.


    Nyx made a quiet sound of amusement. ''The paladin fights well. I almost like him.''


    Riven didn''t respond. His eyes remained locked on the battlefield, calculating.


    Then he felt it.


    A shadowed presence that wasn''t part of the horde.


    Something old. Something watching.


    Then¡ªwhispers.


    "Abyss Born¡­"


    His body went rigid. The voice wasn''t Nyx. It wasn''t anything he recognized.


    But then it clicked. That voice¡ªlayered, echoing, as if a hundred whispers spoke in unison. He had heard it before. The one that had overridden his system ¡ª the one who had warned him of this day.


    She was here.


    Before he could react, the abyss split open.


    A rift in reality, dark and swallowing the air itself, tore through the space behind him. The sheer pressure of it sent cold fire skittering across Riven''s skin, his mana reacting on instinct to the presence that stepped through.


    Slow. Unhurried. A predator descending upon prey.


    And then¡ªshe appeared.


    At first, she was nothing but shadow, an amorphous specter moving through the rift like liquid darkness. But as she crossed the threshold, the shape of a woman began to form¡ªtall and composed, yet wreathed in abyssal mist that never quite settled into solidity.


    Her face was half-obscured, veiled by shifting wisps of black energy. But her eyes¡ªglacial, piercing, utterly detached¡ªlocked onto Riven with an intensity that made even his abyssal core coil in warning.


    A spirit. A wraith. A force of vengeance incarnate.


    Nyx hissed, her form solidifying in front of Riven in a single, fluid motion. She raised her sword, obsidian steel gleaming under the eerie light. Her stance was unwavering, shoulders squared, her presence a barrier between Riven and the shifting darkness before them.


    "Who are you?" Her voice was smooth, sharp as a blade drawn in the dark¡ªcalm, but laced with an undeniable edge of warning.


    The spirit didn''t answer.


    She didn''t move. Didn''t breathe.


    She simply existed¡ªa presence so suffocating it pressed against reality itself. The abyss coiled around her, bending, obeying. Every flicker of her essence whispered of something ancient, something that had long since shed mortality.


    A force that had been waiting.


    Riven''s grip on his own mana tightened, though outwardly, his stance remained unreadable. His gaze flickered across her form, searching, dissecting. Unlike the rogue undead below, there was no mindless hunger in her. No uncontrolled rage.


    Only purpose.


    And that made her infinitely more dangerous.


    At last, she spoke, her glacial eyes narrowing with quiet scrutiny. "You do not recognize me."


    Her voice was layered, fractured¡ªhundreds of voices speaking as one, yet cold and detached. There was no inflection, no warmth. Just fact.


    Nyx''s fingers flexed on her sword hilt, her stance shifting, but Riven spoke first.


    "Should I?" His voice was calm, unbothered, but inside, his mind was already moving, analyzing.


    The spirit''s eyes flickered, a subtle shift in the abyssal mist curling around her form. "You should," she murmured. "You carry his will. His blood. You walk the path he could not finish."


    Velmorian.


    That much was obvious.


    The spirit exhaled¡ªa slow, almost mournful sound, though it carried no real emotion. "And yet¡­ you are not him." Her gaze sharpened, frost cutting through the abyssal dark. "You are a mockery."


    The word cut through the air like a blade.


    Nyx shifted, abyssal energy flaring at her fingertips, but Riven lifted a hand¡ªa silent command to hold.


    His expression remained impassive. "A mockery?"


    The spirit took a step forward. The abyss trembled with her movement.


    "You are weak," she said simply. "You claw at the abyss as if you own it, but you have not earned it." The mist around her darkened, shifting like ink in water. "Velmorian wielded the abyss because he commanded it. You wield it because you are desperate to prove yourself."


    Riven''s jaw tensed.


    He didn''t rise to the bait.


    "You speak as if you knew him," Riven said, his tone measured. "Yet, in all the memories he deemed important enough to pass on to me, you were never there."


    A pause.


    Then¡ª


    For the first time, something cracked in her icy demeanor.


    Her form flickered. The mist wavered, shifting with an almost imperceptible tremor.


    The abyss around her pulsed¡ªonce, twice¡ªbefore settling into stillness again. But Riven had seen it. A break in her control, brief yet undeniable.


    Then her expression smoothed once more, her voice returning to its frozen detachment. "His memories¡­ must have been incomplete."


    Riven tilted his head slightly, watching her. "Or perhaps, you weren''t important enough to be remembered."


    The air around them grew colder. The abyss itself seemed to recoil, dark mist writhing at the edges of her form like barely contained fury. And yet, when she spoke again, her voice remained eerily calm.


    "You are unworthy." she murmured. "I should be the one with the power that was given to you."


    Riven froze, an unsettling feeling creeping across his flesh.


    The spirit''s form flickered, the abyssal mist around her shifting like a living thing, restless and agitated. Then, finally, she exhaled¡ªa slow, measured sound, as if savoring the moment before a kill.


    "You do not understand, do you?" she murmured, her voice layered, ancient. "I am not here simply to berate you ¡ª I am here to take what''s rightfully mine."


    The words were final, absolute.


    Riven''s eyes narrowed, his stance steady. "Is that so?"


    The mist around her thickened, stretching toward him like grasping hands. "You don''t remember, do you? The abyss. The moment you fell." Her gaze sharpened, something almost hungry flickering beneath the cold surface of her expression. "I was there. I reached for you. And yet¡ªyou resisted."


    Riven''s heart beat once¡ªslow, deliberate.


    Memories surfaced, unbidden, sharp as a blade carving through the present. He remembered the moment after his death in his previous life, the moment his soul had drifted weightless in the abyss, untethered, lost. He had been nothing but a flicker of consciousness in the void, surrounded by the all-consuming dark.


    And then¡ªthe hunger.


    A force had reached for him, something vast, endless, relentless. A creeping shadow that had not simply sought to claim him, but to unmake him entirely. It had tried to consume him before he had even received his system, before he had even been given a second chance.


    His gaze snapped back to the wraith before him, to the shadows swirling at her command.


    She was that darkness.


    The thing that had tried to devour him in the void.


    She continued, taking a step forward. "I tried to devour you then, but you fought against me. Even when the void should have consumed you, you tore yourself free with the help from what remained of Velmorian." Her mist coiled tighter, vibrating with restrained fury. "You should not have been chosen."


    The air thickened, pressing against him, the abyss surging at her will.


    "But now, here you stand. And the veil is weak." Her voice dropped into something lower, something that slithered through the space between them. "This time, there will be no escape."


    The mist lunged. S§×ar?h the Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    It came fast, faster than even Riven expected. The abyss surged forward, shadows wrapping around his limbs, his chest, forcing their way inside.


    She was trying to consume him.


    His vision blurred, the world fading into pure darkness as her essence tore into him, sinking deep, trying to pull him apart piece by piece. She sought his soul¡ªhis very being¡ªto unmake him and take his place.


    To become the Shadow King herself.


    But the moment she entered him¡ª


    She faltered.


    The void inside Riven was vast. Endless. It was not a soul ripe for the taking, nor a body meant to be possessed. It was cold, bottomless, a hunger beyond even the abyss itself.


    There was nothing to take.


    Nothing to claim.


    Only a devouring, endless darkness.


    Riven smirked, his voice a whisper in the emptiness.


    "You can''t consume what''s already been devoured."


    A shriek tore through the void, her form recoiling from his, the mist violently unraveling. She staggered back into existence, her entire being trembling as though she had stared into something even she could not comprehend.


    Riven stepped forward, his expression utterly composed. "Now that we understand each other," he said, his voice calm, "let''s talk about your future."


    The spirit''s breath came faster now, not from fear¡ªbut from something eerily close to it.


    "What¡­ are you?" she whispered.


    "The one who will burn Solis to the ground," Riven answered smoothly. "But I need something stronger to do it." His gaze flickered, dark energy curling at his fingertips. "I need a blade worthy of cutting through this wretched kingdom."


    The mist around her still trembled. She did not move. Did not attack.


    Riven continued. "You want the Solis Kingdom to suffer? To fall?" His voice was razor-sharp, every word digging into her festering hatred. "Then help me destroy it."


    Her aura pulsed, a storm of unreadable emotion flickering through her form.


    Silence stretched between them.


    Then¡ª


    "You wish to forge me," she murmured, her voice quieter now, more deliberate.


    "Yes."


    She exhaled, slow and controlled. "And if I refuse?"


    Riven tilted his head slightly. "Then you fade away, powerless and forgotten." His mana surged at his fingertips, reality bending to his will. "Or¡ªyou become something greater."


    The mist around her coiled tightly, hesitant.


    Then, after a long pause, she whispered, "What do you want?"


    "I want your vengeance," Riven said simply. "And I want you as my weapon."


    Another silence, thick with something unspoken.


    Then¡ªfinally¡ªher gaze met his, something dark settling within it.


    "¡­Very well," she murmured. "Forge me, Abyss Born."

 Chapter 98 - 98: A blade fit for a king

    The air between them crackled with abyssal energy, heavy with unspoken promises and undeniable finality.


    Riven exhaled, slow and steady, as the spirit''s mist coiled around her in restless anticipation. He had broken her resistance, had reached into the depths of her hatred and twisted it into something useful. Now, all that remained was to solidify her purpose¡ªto forge her into a blade worthy of his hands.


    She was no mere specter. No simple spirit to be shackled into a tool.


    She was something far more dangerous.


    Which meant he needed a weapon strong enough to bind her essence¡ªa vessel that could hold her without breaking.


    His fingers flexed, and with a flick of his wrist, the Staff of Ignis materialized in his grasp.


    The crimson shaft gleamed under the moonlight, its deep, dragon-forged core pulsing faintly with warmth.


    Riven''s grip tightened around it.


    He had never been a staff wielder. The bulk of it was unwieldy, ill-suited for his style. But the core¡ªit was perfect. If he could merge it with the abyss, if he could forge it into something that reflected his own power¡ª


    Then this wouldn''t just be a sword.


    It would be an abomination.


    Fire and shadow, entwined like his own abyssal flames. A force that consumed, devoured, and left nothing in its wake.


    His shadows surged, swallowing the clearing in suffocating darkness.


    The spirit watched him, her form still wreathed in mist, yet something in her gaze had shifted. A quiet, unspoken understanding.


    "Are you ready?" Riven asked, voice edged with quiet finality.


    The shadows pulsed around them, answering for her.


    She stepped forward.


    "Begin."


    Riven slammed the Staff of Ignis into the ground. The impact sent a pulse of fiery mana through the floor, warping the very air around them.


    The forging had begun.


    Darkness surged, coiling into a swirling vortex at his feet. The spirit''s mist thickened, pulled by an unseen force, drawn into the abyss''s hungry grasp. The weight of the ritual pressed against reality itself, bending the fabric of existence to accommodate the act of creation.


    Riven raised his hands, his shadows latching onto the spirit''s essence. She resisted.


    Her form thrashed, the mist unraveling and re-forming in an instant, as if fighting against the chains pulling her forward. But she had already agreed¡ªher own words had bound her.


    Riven would not let her go now.


    The abyss roared, pulling harder, dragging her essence toward the Staff of Ignis. The flames within the staff fought against the shadows at first, the fire and darkness clashing violently, neither willing to yield.


    But Riven commanded both.


    He forced them together, just like his own abyssal flames.


    Flames warped into tendrils of black fire, coiling around the spirit''s form, branding her into the forging process. She let out a sharp breath¡ªa sound between pain and exhilaration¡ªas the abyssal flames dug into her being, reshaping her.


    The first step of the forging was complete.


    Now came the refining.


    Riven''s mind sharpened, his focus absolute.


    "Form."


    The shadows obeyed. The mist that had made up the spirit''s body began to stretch, condense, solidify. The shape of a blade started to emerge¡ªlong, elegant, yet wickedly curved. The abyssal steel pulsed with both fire and darkness, its edges shifting between existence, as if undecided between being ethereal or tangible.


    The Staff of Ignis warped, its form condensing, reshaping, twisting as it fused with the blade. The shaft burned away, its fiery core stripped and reforged into the very foundation of the weapon.


    The grip formed first¡ªsleek, wrapped in darkened leather that pulsed with abyssal heat. The crossguard followed, forged from the remnants of the staff''s dragon-forged metal, gleaming with ember-like veins that pulsed faintly beneath the surface.


    And the blade¡ª


    It was alive.


    Not just a weapon, but a will given form.


    Abyssal mist curled along its edges, shifting between reality and void. The fire of Ignis flickered within its core, making the blade pulse, as if it were breathing. It was not purely abyss. Not purely flame.


    It was something new, just like his own flames.


    The forging neared completion¡ªbut there was one final step.


    Riven had to bind her.


    His shadows surged, coiling around the half-formed weapon.


    The spirit lashed out¡ªthe last remnant of her resistance flaring. Her mist surged, trying to break free, to reclaim her old self before the transformation was complete.


    But Riven was ready.


    He tightened his grip on the forging process, his will crushing down on hers. "Do not fight me. You chose this."


    Her mist shuddered.


    Riven pressed on.


    "I will not waste you like Velmorian. I will not let you be discarded and forgotten. You will have your vengeance¡ªbut you will have it as my blade."


    The mist collapsed inward, drawn into the weapon in a single, decisive moment.


    A shockwave exploded outward, sending a pulse of abyssal fire into the sky. The ground beneath them cracked, reality trembling at the finality of what had just occurred.


    And when the mist faded¡ª


    Riven stood, his grip firm around the hilt.


    The blade in his hand hummed¡ªnot with magic, but with presence.


    It was sleek, blackened abyssal steel, its surface shifting like liquid shadow. Ember-like veins ran along the fuller, remnants of the Staff of Ignis''s fiery power now woven into its form.


    It was weightless, yet carried an undeniable lethality¡ªas if eager to be wielded.


    And then¡ª


    A voice, curling into his mind, smooth, cold, and watchful. Sear?h the n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "You better prove worthy of wielding me, Abyss Born."


    Riven smirked, running his fingers along the flat of the blade. The metal was warm beneath his touch, an unnatural contrast to the abyssal magic woven through it.


    "You''ll have your vengeance soon."


    The weapon pulsed, almost as if amused.


    Riven lifted the blade, testing its balance. It moved with him, not just a tool, but an extension of his will.


    Fire and abyss.


    Vengeance and control.


    Power unlike anything else.


    Riven exhaled, his grip tightening.


    Tonight, the veil had been at its weakest. The dead had risen. A kingdom had trembled.


    But he had forged something greater.


    A blade fit for a king.


    ¡ªx¡ª


    The weight of the newly forged blade settled into Riven''s palm, its presence undeniable. It pulsed faintly, a rhythm like a second heartbeat, the abyss and fire within it harmonizing into something entirely new. It was unlike any weapon he had ever wielded¡ªnot just steel, not just magic, but something more.


    Nyx stepped forward, her dark eyes gleaming with something unreadable as she studied the blade. The remnants of abyssal mist still curled around its edges, struggling between tangibility and nothingness.


    She extended a gloved hand, hovering just above the blade''s surface. Her fingers twitched slightly. A test. And then¡ªher touch met the abyssal steel.


    A sharp hiss echoed through the clearing, a pulse of power rippling from the point of contact. Nyx barely flinched, her stance unwavering. But her lips parted, her breath slow, measured.


    "Now that was impressive," Nyx murmured, her voice an edge above a whisper.


    She traced the edge of the blade, her fingers skimming the liquid-like metal. "This isn''t just an abyssal weapon," she mused. "The fire of Ignis lingers, but it doesn''t burn. It moves with the abyss, not against it." Her gaze flicked to Riven, her lips curving slightly. "You fused them perfectly."


    Riven rolled his wrist, watching how the weapon adjusted to his grip, shifting between weightless and solid with each movement. "I had no other choice," he said simply. "Fire and shadow¡ªit had to be like my own flames. Otherwise, it wouldn''t be mine."


    The blade pulsed at that, the ember veins along its fuller flickering with something almost sentient.


    Nyx hummed in quiet amusement. "It''s not just yours." She glanced at the weapon once more. "She''s still here."


    Riven''s smirk widened. "Of course, she is."


    A quiet breath of laughter escaped Nyx, but it was short-lived.


    A low, distant bell tolled across the Academy grounds, its deep chime rolling through the night air like a warning.


    Nyx''s expression sharpened instantly. "That''s a summons."


    Riven dismissed the sword into his inventory, its form vanishing in a slow swirl of black fire. "An emergency meeting," he murmured.


    She nodded. "They''ll want to discuss the attack." Her gaze flickered with something knowing. "Or at least, they''ll want to discuss how their ''hero'' fended it off."


    Riven exhaled sharply, already predicting what was coming. "Cassiel."


    Nyx made an unimpressed noise. "Without a doubt."


    ¡ªx¡ª


    The Academy''s grand hall was packed when Riven arrived.


    Students, professors, and enforcers stood in rigid silence, their faces bathed in the flickering blue glow of mana crystals embedded in the towering obsidian pillars. The air was heavy with tension, thick with the murmurs of uneasy whispers as the crowd struggled to steady themselves after the night''s events.


    At the front of the chamber, seated upon an elevated platform, King Aldric of Solis observed the assembly with an unreadable expression. His golden armor gleamed under the light of the mana crystals, the sigil of the rising sun embossed across his chestplate a stark contrast to the heavy tension in the air. His fingers rested idly against the arm of his chair, but the sharpness in his gaze betrayed his calculating mind.


    Beside him, the Academy''s Headmaster stood, hands folded behind his back, his presence secondary to the authority radiating from the king.


    Riven''s gaze flickered across the hall, noting Cassiel''s position near the front. The paladin stood with perfect posture¡ªshoulders squared, divine energy still lingering around him, the remnants of battle clinging to his aura. He was waiting.


    It was clear who they were about to hail as their savior.


    The Headmaster stepped forward, his voice cutting through the hushed murmurs with practiced authority. "Tonight, the remnants of the fallen Shadow Kingdom infiltrated our city''s defenses undetected, launching a direct assault on the academy. Undead horrors emerged from the abyss, seeking nothing but destruction."


    Riven remained silent, arms crossed.


    "They were repelled," the Headmaster continued. "And for that, we must give thanks to the unwavering efforts of our academy''s finest."


    He turned slightly, extending a hand toward Cassiel.


    The paladin''s expression remained neutral¡ªcollected, but not entirely modest. He stepped forward as the hall erupted in applause.


    Riven''s lips curled in amusement. Predictable.


    "His holy power cleansed the battlefield," the Headmaster declared. "His blade struck down countless undead. Without him, the academy''s defenses would have been breached. The dead would have overwhelmed us."


    Riven barely resisted the urge to scoff.


    It wasn''t Cassiel''s light that had ended the attack.


    It was the forging of the blade.


    The spirit''s release had been the true cause of the disturbance. Once she had been bound, the dead had ceased their assault. But no one knew that. No one had seen.


    Nyx, standing beside him, exhaled quietly, unimpressed.


    Cassiel inclined his head slightly at the praise, ever the perfect knight. "I only did what was necessary to protect our people," he said evenly, his tone composed, carefully measured. "The undead must be purged wherever they appear."


    "Indeed," the king finally spoke.


    The room fell into a hush.


    King Aldric was not a man who wasted words. His gaze swept across the assembly, measuring, weighing, assessing. When he spoke again, his voice carried an undeniable weight.


    "The attacks are getting worse."


    His words landed like a hammer.


    "It is not just the academy," he continued. "Every month, more undead are sighted across the kingdom. The remnants of the Shadow Kingdoms forces refuse to fade."


    Riven''s expression didn''t change, but his thoughts sharpened.


    The king''s gaze darkened, his fingers tightening slightly on the armrest. "We must remain vigilant. The creatures of the abyss seek only destruction. Necromancers, those who tamper with the dead, must be rooted out and dealt with before their corruption spreads."


    A heavy silence followed.


    The message was clear.


    The Shadow Kingdom''s revival would never be allowed.


    Riven remained impassive, even as the king''s words settled over the hall like a death sentence.


    Nyx shifted slightly at his side, subtle enough that only he noticed. He didn''t need to see her face to know what she was thinking.


    War was brewing once more.


    Riven exhaled slowly, letting the weight of the moment settle.


    This would only escalate.


    The kingdom would continue its hunt for necromancers, for the remnants of the Shadow Kingdom. They would rally their forces, strengthen their warriors, push their crusade further.


    They would grow stronger.


    But so would he.

 Chapter 99 - 99: One month

    The mausoleum was silent.


    The kind of silence that only came after a storm, thick with the weight of something unspoken. The moment Riven and Nyx stepped inside, the air itself seemed to recoil, sensing the fury simmering beneath his skin.


    Riven didn''t bother suppressing it.


    He strode deeper into the ancient chamber, his movements precise, controlled¡ªbut the shadows around him betrayed his restraint. They coiled violently, writhing against the stone walls, feeding off the abyssal energy leaking from him.


    The king''s words echoed in his mind.


    "Necromancers, those who tamper with the dead, must be rooted out and dealt with before their corruption spreads."


    His fingers curled into fists, abyssal fire sparking along his knuckles.


    That self-righteous bastard.


    Riven exhaled sharply, forcing himself to breathe past the rage clawing at his chest. He had expected nothing less from the Solis King. Hatred for the Shadow Kingdom was embedded in their very history. But tonight''s meeting had made one thing clear¡ªthe kingdom was preparing for war.


    And Cassiel¡­


    Riven''s lips curled into a snarl at the thought of that paladin bastard standing there, basking in the adoration of the Academy.


    "His holy power cleansed the battlefield. His blade struck down countless undead. Without him, we would have been overwhelmed."


    Lies.


    Riven had ended the attack. The undead had been drawn to her¡ª the spirit that now resided in his sword. When he forged her into a blade, the attack had stopped.


    But none of them knew. None of them would ever know.


    They would sing Cassiel''s name as a hero. They would build him higher, elevate him, strengthen him.


    Riven''s breath came slow and steady.


    Fine.


    He would just have to tear him down.


    "I need to get stronger." His voice was sharp, unwavering, cutting through the mausoleum''s stillness. "I need to push myself further¡­ I''m giving myself one month."


    Nyx remained at his side, her expression unreadable. "For what?"


    "I''ll take myself to the very threshold of the fourth Circle." Riven turned to face her, his abyssal flames flickering at his fingertips. "And just before I break through, I''ll challenge the Power Leaderboard."


    A pause.


    Nyx''s gaze sharpened, but she said nothing.


    "I''ll climb my way to first place," Riven continued, his smirk cold, "before I ascend to the third year. And then, I''ll leave this place behind. I''ll return home."


    The words settled between them, final and absolute.


    Nyx studied him for a long moment, then nodded. "Whatever you need, I will do it."


    Riven exhaled, some of his tension easing at the certainty in her voice.


    "I know."


    A brief silence stretched between them before Nyx reached into the shadows at her side. Slowly, she withdrew something¡ªa small, solidified gem, its surface dark and gleaming, pulsing faintly with abyssal energy.


    She held it out to him.


    Riven raised a brow. "What is this?"


    Nyx''s lips curled, but the expression was softer than usual. "Happy birthday."


    Riven blinked.


    Of all the things he had expected her to say¡ªthat had not been one of them.


    He looked at the gem again, his fingers brushing against its cool surface. "Nyx¡­"


    "I siphoned a part of my mana into it," she explained, her voice steady. "And some of my life force."


    Riven''s head snapped up at that, his expression turning sharp.


    Nyx met his gaze evenly. "It''s a protection measure. If you are ever critically injured, the gem will break and restore you once."


    Silence.


    Riven stared at her, something unreadable flickering behind his gaze. "That''s a steep cost."


    Nyx shrugged. "I have lived a long time, my king." She lifted the gem slightly. "And I would rather see my life force spent protecting you than wasted doing nothing."


    Riven was quiet for a long moment.


    Then, slowly, he extended his hand and took the gem from her.


    The moment his fingers curled around it, abyssal energy surged between them¡ªa connection forming, sealing the magic she had woven into it.


    A quiet hum of power pulsed from the gem as Nyx reached forward, her fingertips brushing against his ear.


    Before he could react, she pierced it through.


    A brief, sharp sting. Then warmth.


    The gem settled against his skin, black and glinting like a lone star.


    Nyx''s gaze lingered on it for a moment before she stepped back.


    "There," she murmured. "Now, you''ll always have me watching your back."


    Riven reached up, fingers brushing against the gem''s smooth surface. His smirk returned, slow and amused.


    "Tch." He rolled his shoulders. "How sentimental of you."


    Nyx scoffed. "Don''t get used to it."


    Riven chuckled, his rage from before tempered¡ªjust slightly. His thoughts shifted back to his plan. His path.


    One month.


    Four weeks to take himself to the absolute limit.


    Then, he would claim the top of the Power Leaderboard.


    And once he had crushed them all¡ªonce he stood at the peak¡ªhe would finally leave this place behind.


    The Shadow Kingdom awaited him.


    And nothing in the Solis Kingdom would stop him.


    ¡ªx¡ª


    The next morning, Riven stood at the edge of a Mana Beast Isle, the mist rising around him in thick, icy swirls. Unlike the other islands he had visited before, this one pulsed with a frigid presence, the air sharp and biting against his skin.


    Ahead of him, jagged ice formations jutted from the ground like frozen spears, their surfaces slick with an unnatural sheen. Frost coated the sparse trees that clung stubbornly to the terrain, their bark twisted and blackened by years of exposure to the island''s mana-rich environment.


    A tundra, blanketed in the raw power of ice-aspected mana.


    Nyx adjusted her cloak, her breath visible in the chill. "I take it fire magic''s going to be a problem here," she mused, glancing at Riven.


    Riven flexed his fingers, feeling the abyssal heat that normally coiled at his fingertips. Here, it was duller, suppressed¡ªnot extinguished, but weakened. The ice mana was already at work, pushing against his own elements, making it harder to wield his flames freely.


    He smirked. "Good."


    Nyx arched a brow. "You enjoy making things harder for yourself, don''t you?"


    Riven stepped forward, boots crunching against the frost-covered ground. "If it''s easy, I don''t get stronger."


    A sudden pulse of mana rippled through the air.


    Nyx''s expression sharpened, her stance shifting slightly. "We''re not alone."


    From the dense fog ahead, glowing blue eyes flickered to life.


    Then another.


    And another.


    Shadows moved within the mist, their forms large, their breath curling in the cold.


    Frostfang Direwolves.


    Their fur gleamed like freshly fallen snow, their bodies massive, each the size of a warhorse. Ice mana coiled off them in thick waves, their movements eerily silent as they stalked closer, their jaws parting to reveal razor-sharp fangs coated in frost.


    A low growl rumbled from the pack leader.


    Riven exhaled.


    Perfect.


    He summoned the newly forged sword from his inventory, and the moment it materialized in his grasp, an unnatural weight settled over him.


    A pressure¡ªdeep, suffocating.


    The abyssal spirit inside the weapon stirred.


    It resisted.


    Riven gritted his teeth as his mana veins burned, his muscles locking up for a split second as his body strained against the overwhelming force within the blade.


    It was like trying to wield a raging storm trapped within steel.


    ''Control me, or be devoured.''


    The spirit''s voice slithered through his mind, sharp and cold.


    He tightened his grip.


    "No," Riven murmured, forcing his will into the blade. "You''ll obey me."


    The sword pulsed violently in defiance, the abyssal presence inside thrashing against his control, demanding dominance. Riven''s mana surged in response, clashing against it¡ªan invisible battle of wills.


    The Frostfang Direwolves lunged.


    Riven moved.


    Pain flared through his arm as he forced the sword to comply, his mana veins straining under the resistance. The first wolf closed in, its massive body a blur of white and blue¡ª


    And Riven swung.


    The blade howled.


    A distorted wail echoed as abyssal energy lashed outward, clashing violently with the ice-aspected mana in the air. The moment the sword made contact with the wolf''s flank, there was a crack¡ªthen a sudden implosion.


    The direwolf disintegrated, its body collapsing into shards of ice, its core torn apart by the sheer force of the abyssal sword''s strike.


    The other wolves hesitated.


    Riven exhaled, his breath shaky, his body screaming from the effort of just one swing. His veins felt like they were on fire, his mana struggling to circulate properly after the sheer strain of controlling the weapon.


    But he grinned.


    One strike. One kill.


    Again.


    He forced his body forward, gripping the sword tighter. His mana surged, trying to stabilize, but the spirit inside the blade continued to resist.


    His veins burned.


    His muscles protested.


    But he didn''t stop.


    The wolves attacked again, their hesitation brief.


    Riven met them head-on.


    The next swing sent another direwolf crumpling, its body torn apart in a single arc of abyssal destruction. But this time, the backlash was worse¡ªhis vision blurred, his body trembled, and his mana pulsed violently out of sync.


    His breath came ragged, his grip on the sword tightening.


    Push through.


    Another wolf lunged.


    Riven forced himself to move, to strike again, to carve through the frost-touched beasts with sheer willpower.


    Each strike hurt. Each swing sent searing pain through his mana veins, his body fighting against the unnatural weight of the weapon, against the abyssal spirit that refused to submit.


    But he didn''t stop.


    Again.


    And again.


    Until his body could withstand it.


    Until the sword stopped resisting.


    Until it was his.


    The final direwolf fell, its glowing blue eyes dimming as its body shattered into crystalline dust.


    Silence settled over the tundra.


    Riven staggered, his vision tilting as the strain threatened to pull him under¡ªbut Nyx caught him, her grip firm as she steadied him before he could collapse. Her fingers pressed against his arm, grounding him as his breath came in short, ragged bursts, his limbs heavy, his veins pulsing erratically from the strain.


    But he was still standing.


    Nyx let out a low whistle, her hold lingering as she leaned in slightly, her sharp gaze flicking between him and the weapon still pulsing with restrained abyssal power. "That looked painful."


    Riven let out a rough chuckle, his grip still firm on the sword. "It was."


    Nyx''s eyes narrowed, studying him as he exhaled slowly. His body still ached. His mana was still unstable.


    Riven exhaled slowly. His body still ached. His mana was still unstable.


    But¡­


    He raised the sword.


    The abyssal energy inside it stirred¡ªno longer violently thrashing, but waiting. Watching.


    It had not submitted fully.


    But it was acknowledging him.


    Riven smirked. "Not yet. But it will."


    Nyx folded her arms, tilting her head slightly. "And how do you plan to make that happen?"


    Riven turned his gaze to the frozen landscape ahead, where the deeper parts of the island loomed, untouched.


    By going further.


    By pushing until the sword had no choice but to obey him.


    "We keep going."


    Nyx smirked. "I figured you''d say that."


    With that, they moved forward, deeper into the frozen abyss.


    ¡ªx¡ª


    For the next two weeks, Riven followed the same relentless pattern.


    Each day, he and Nyx would travel to a different Mana Beast Isle, each one teeming with creatures molded by its distinct elemental force.


    Each day, he would fight until his body refused to move.


    And each day, the sword would resist him¡ªuntil it didn''t.


    ¡ªx¡ª


    The second day brought them to a volcanic island, a land of scorched black rock and rivers of molten mana. Magma Serpents, their bodies coiled with living fire, slithered through the craggy landscape.


    Riven wielded the sword again.


    And again, it fought him.


    It resisted with every strike, burning through his veins, testing his limits, forcing him to exert his will over its abyssal presence.


    His body strained. His mana buckled under the weight of the sword''s defiance.


    But he kept going.


    Slash after slash, kill after kill, he burned his way through the serpents, his sword clashing against their flame-wreathed bodies, abyssal energy devouring their bodies.


    By the end of the day, Riven was barely standing, his muscles trembling, his vision dark at the edges.


    Yet, the sword was quieter.


    Not yet obedient.


    But watching.


    ¡ªx¡ª


    The third day, they set foot on a jungle island¡ªa domain where beasts of pure wind and lightning ruled the skies. S§×ar?h the N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Stormclaw Harpies.


    Their screeches split the air as they descended like living tempests, talons crackling with lightning. Their speed was blinding.


    Riven could barely track them with his eyes, let alone react.


    But the sword forced him to adapt.


    It pushed his mana circulation to its limit, forcing him to refine his movement, forcing his mind and body to act as one. The more he fought, the more his body adjusted, his instincts sharpening to match the creatures'' erratic speed.


    His strikes became faster.


    More precise.


    By the time the sun set, the harpies lay in ruins around him, abyssal fire smoldering in their remains.


    ¡ªx¡ª


    On the fifth day, Riven found himself on an island ruled by Titanboars, massive beasts covered in unbreakable stone armor. Their defenses were impenetrable.


    His sword, despite its raw power, wasn''t enough¡ªhis mana still fell short.


    Every strike he made against them sent shockwaves through his arms, the feedback of his own strength rattling his bones. The strain was unbearable, his muscles screaming from the impact of every blow.


    It was a test of endurance. A test of raw, brutal force.


    If he could not break the sword''s resistance, he would break himself trying.


    By the end, his bones ached, his mana circulation was unstable, and his sword arm felt like it was no longer part of his body.


    But the Titanboars lay dead.


    And his body had strengthened.


    ¡ªx¡ª


    The days bled into one another.


    Each island, each relentless battle, forged him anew.


    He slaughtered mana beasts until his body was wrecked, until his mana reserves were dangerously low, until he was on the verge of collapse.


    Each night, he forced himself into meditative recovery, repairing the damage he had inflicted upon himself¡ªforcing his mana veins to expand, forcing his muscles to fortify and adapt.


    The sword no longer fought against him as fiercely.


    It no longer lashed out with every strike.


    By the twelfth day, it had stopped resisting altogether.


    But it still watched.


    Still waited.


    Demanding something more.


    ¡ªx¡ª


    On the fourteenth day, Riven stood at the base of an island where the strongest beast yet awaited him.


    A Frostbound Tyrant¡ªan apex predator, towering twice his height, its entire body encased in layers of enchanted ice so dense that even abyssal fire struggled to burn it. A relic of Varethun, untouched by death, a behemoth that had reigned over this frozen domain for centuries.


    And Riven was going to kill it.


    His fingers tightened around the hilt of his sword as he exhaled, breath misting in the frigid air. Across the battlefield, the Tyrant''s piercing blue gaze locked onto him¡ªmana-infused fury given form.


    It didn''t hesitate.


    It charged.


    And Riven met it head-on.


    Their clash shook the island. Ice cracked beneath their feet, the force of impact splitting the ground apart. Riven''s arms screamed under the strain, his body pushed to its absolute threshold. If his sword still resisted, he would die. If his body faltered, he would be crushed.


    The Tyrant roared, jagged ice forming along its massive claws, the next strike inevitable¡ªa killing blow.


    Riven''s abyssal mana flared.


    His sword sang.


    The resistance vanished.


    In that moment, he and the weapon were one.


    The sword did not fight him. It did not push back.


    Instead, it answered.


    Abyssal fire erupted from the blade, so dark it consumed the very air around it.


    He swung.


    The world split apart.


    The Tyrant''s arm was severed instantly, abyssal flames devouring the enchanted ice faster than it could regenerate. A guttural, earth-shaking roar ripped from the beast¡ªa sound of something ancient realizing, too late, that it was dying.


    Riven didn''t stop.


    He drove the sword through its chest, abyssal flames spreading like a plague, consuming it from the inside out.


    For the first time in centuries¡ªthe Frostbound Tyrant fell.


    And the island fell silent.


    Riven stood over the cooling corpse, his muscles burning, his mana reserves dangerously low, his body barely holding together. But he had won.


    And the sword?


    It was his.


    No more resistance. No more defiance. The spirit within had submitted.


    He exhaled, lowering the blade. His hands were steady. His veins no longer burned when he wielded it.


    Nyx, who had been watching from the edge of the battlefield, stepped forward, her sharp gaze scanning him. "You did it."


    Riven smirked, breathless. "Took long enough."


    Her eyes flicked over him, noting the changes. He was different.


    His muscles had thickened, not just in size but in density, compacted and refined by two weeks of relentless combat. His mana veins had expanded, reinforced by the raw strain of controlling the abyssal sword, allowing him to cycle and wield his power with a fluidity he had never known before.


    He had ascended.


    Stronger. Sharper. Reforged.


    Nyx let out a low whistle. "And now?"


    Riven rolled his shoulders, fingers flexing against the hilt of his weapon. He felt it¡ªthe raw power coursing through him, the sword no longer testing him, but waiting for him to use it fully.


    His gaze shifted. Past the frozen island. Past the vast waters.


    Back toward the Academy.


    Back toward his next challenge.


    "We need to go shopping."

 Chapter 100 - 100: Etherbloom

    Riven and Nyx navigated the bustling market district, the weight of his inventory heavier than usual¡ªfilled to the brim with mana beast cores from two relentless weeks of battle. Every step through the stone-paved streets was punctuated by the chatter of students, their voices carrying over the hum of trade.


    They stopped outside a potion shop, its wooden sign creaking slightly in the wind. As they stepped inside, the scent of crushed herbs and concentrated mana thickened the air. Shelves lined with glowing vials stretched from floor to ceiling, students rifling through them with eager hands.


    Riven barely spared them a glance, but their voices reached him all the same.


    "Did you hear? Someone finally killed the Frostbound Tyrant."


    "Not just that¡ªmost of the mana beast islands have been emptied!"


    "Who the hell keeps killing all the beasts? Tch¡ªleaving nothing for the rest of us."


    Riven almost laughed. If they didn''t want to miss out, they should have moved faster.


    At the counter, an old server barely looked up as they approached, too absorbed in a parchment of inventory records. It wasn''t until Riven placed his hands on the worn wooden surface that the man acknowledged them.


    "Yes?" The server''s voice was flat, disinterested.


    "I need your strongest mana potions," Riven said evenly.


    That finally earned him a proper glance. The server looked up, his eyes scanning Riven''s face as if weighing something. Then, a slow grin spread across his lips, edged with amusement. "Are you sure you can afford the strongest potions I have?"


    Riven said nothing. Instead, he lifted a hand over the counter.


    One by one, mana beast cores tumbled from his inventory¡ªglowing, pulsating, rare and uncommon alike¡ªraining down onto the wooden surface with a rhythmic clatter. A pile formed in mere seconds, the raw power within each core thrumming in the air.


    "This isn''t even a quarter of what I have," Riven said smoothly, his voice polite, but his eyes darkened ever so slightly. "Is this enough?"


    The server''s expression froze, eyes widening as the realization sank in. For a moment, the entire shop seemed to pause as nearby students turned, catching glimpses of the mountain of beast cores.


    Then, in a flurry of movement, the server waved over his assistants, who scrambled to gather the precious items. His demeanor shifted instantly, the previous amusement replaced with an eager, almost reverent smile.


    "Ah¡ªof course! Of course!" The old man beamed, hastily gesturing toward a curtained room at the side of the store. "The strongest potions are kept in the safe room. Please, follow me."


    Riven and Nyx exchanged a glance before following the server through the curtain, stepping into a dimly lit room lined with reinforced shelves. The air here was heavier, saturated with mana so thick it buzzed against Riven''s skin. Unlike the outer shop, this was where the true treasures were kept¡ªpotions so rare and potent they were locked away from casual buyers.


    The server strode ahead, moving toward a large, rune-etched safe embedded into the stone wall. With a flick of his wrist, he traced a series of glowing sigils, unlocking the mechanisms with practiced ease. A deep, resonant click echoed through the chamber, and the heavy metal door swung open.


    Inside, rows of pristine crystal vials gleamed under the ambient light, each containing a different shade of mana-infused liquid. Some glowed faintly with condensed energy, while others swirled with volatile, shifting colors¡ªunstable, powerful, and undoubtedly dangerous if mishandled. S§×ar?h the N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "These," the server said, his voice brimming with pride, "are the highest-grade mana potions in stock. Each one contains concentrated mana essence refined from pure beast cores or extremely rare herbs. Not the diluted kind we sell outside¡ªthese are direct from the alchemists'' workshops."


    Riven stepped closer, scanning the selection, his gaze flicking over the various vials, noting their different compositions. Then, among the rows of glowing potions, one caught his eye.


    A sleek, dark-stoppered vial sat near the back of the shelf, its contents a deep, shimmering silver with faint golden wisps swirling within. Unlike the other potions, which pulsed with raw mana, this one had a refined, almost ethereal quality¡ªcontrolled, precise, potent.


    Riven narrowed his eyes. He knew that color. That texture.


    This was Etherbloom.


    The very same mana potion crafted within the Shadow Kingdom, infused with abyss-touched herbs, its effects vastly superior to normal restoratives.


    He reached for it. "What''s this one?"


    The server hesitated for a split second before quickly regaining his composure. He stepped forward, lowering his voice as though sharing a secret.


    "Ah, that," he murmured, rubbing his hands together. "That is a new, extremely rare mana potion called Etherbloom. It''s only recently entered circulation, supplied exclusively by the Deveroux Guild."


    Riven almost laughed.


    So Lucien had already begun distribution. Good. The Deveroux Guild was doing exactly what he had planned¡ªspreading Shadow Kingdom products through their network, allowing their influence to seep deeper into the kingdom''s economy.


    The server continued, unaware of Riven''s amusement. "It''s expensive, even more so than the Imperial Elixirs. But its effects are remarkable. Unlike normal potions, which give a temporary mana surge, Etherbloom integrates into the user''s mana flow, enhancing both capacity and regeneration. Alchemists can''t fully replicate it yet¡ªthere''s something unique in its refinement process." He lowered his voice further. "Honestly, we don''t get many of these. The guild only provides them to select shops."


    Riven let out a quiet hum, tilting the vial slightly, watching the golden streaks swirl inside.


    "How many do you have?"


    The server blinked. "Ah, well, let''s see¡­" He turned, checking the back of the safe, then hesitantly counted. "Five. That''s all we''ve been able to get our hands on."


    "I''ll take them all."


    The server choked. "A-All of them?"


    Riven nodded, placing the vial back onto the shelf. "And from now on, if you get more shipments, I want you to buy them in bulk. Whatever quantity the Deveroux Guild provides¡ªtake it. I''ll purchase every single one."


    The server hesitated, glancing at the mountain of beast cores Riven had already dumped onto the table, then back at the rare potions. His mind clearly ran through the calculations before his expression shifted into one of eager agreement.


    "Well¡­ for a customer of your standing, I suppose arrangements can be made," he said, his voice a touch breathless. "Of course! I''ll ensure every shipment is reserved for you first."


    "Good." Riven stepped back, watching as the server carefully packed the Etherbloom vials alongside the Imperial Elixirs. He had expected the potions to enter circulation quickly, but seeing them here, sold as rare commodities, only confirmed how well his trade agreement with Lucien was working.


    And the best part?


    No one knew their true origin.


    Riven smirked as he picked up the secured potion case, glancing at Nyx. "Looks like our supply chain is working well."


    Nyx chuckled, her gaze flicking to the server, who was still fussing over the transaction. "They really have no idea, do they?"


    "Not yet." Riven''s smirk deepened. "But soon, the whole kingdom will be drinking our mana."


    With that, he turned on his heel, leading Nyx out of the safe room and back into the bustling market, leaving the potion shop with far more than he had come for.


    As they stepped back into the market district, the cool evening air brushing against them, Riven''s mind was already turning toward his next move. The past two weeks had forged his body into something stronger, but he was still too far away from the threshold of the Fourth Circle. That had been his goal from the beginning¡ªgetting as close to a breakthrough as possible before making his challenge for the Power Leaderboard.


    And for that, he needed more mana.


    He turned to Nyx, his tone sharp and decisive. "I''m going to the Fire Mana-Dense Island. I''ll spend the remaining two weeks pushing myself to the absolute limit."


    Nyx arched a brow, arms folding. "The volcanic region? That place is swarming with Infernal Beasts. You''re not just going to push yourself, you''re going to burn yourself alive."


    Riven smirked. "If it brings me closer to the Fourth Circle, then it''s worth it."


    Nyx let out a low sigh, shaking her head, though there was no real disapproval in her gaze. "Fine. I assume you want me to handle things here."


    "You assume correctly." Riven handed her a pouch filled with beast cores but kept the potion case for himself. His grip lingered for a moment. "Keep fighting and collecting mana beast cores. Stockpile as many as you can. And most importantly¡ªkeep buying up every shipment of Etherbloom that comes in. I''ll need a constant supply while I''m on the Fire Mana-Dense Isle."


    Nyx''s brow lifted slightly. "You want me to bring them to you?"


    Riven nodded. "Exactly. I''ll be burning through mana faster than usual there, and Etherbloom integrates better with my reserves. I don''t want to waste time coming back every time I need a refill. Just keep the supply flowing."


    Nyx sighed and then smirked. "So I get to run your errands now? How generous of you."


    Riven smirked back. "Think of it as an investment. The more we buy, the higher the demand from the Deveroux Guild. They''ll keep expanding distribution, and by the time they realize how dependent people are on it, we''ll already control the supply."


    Nyx chuckled. "Smart. Fine, I''ll make sure they keep restocking. And if anyone else tries to get their hands on our shipments?"


    Riven''s smirk darkened. "Make sure they don''t."


    Nyx grinned. "Consider it done."


    With that settled, Riven turned and headed towards the teleport gate for the Fire-Mana Dense island. His home for the next 2 weeks.

 Chapter 101 - 101: A blade through the heart

    Riven strode through the teleport gate, the shimmering mana barrier parting as he stepped onto the Fire Mana-Dense Island. The transition was instant¡ªheat pressed against his skin like a living force, thick and smothering, the air saturated with volatile fire mana. The sky overhead burned in shades of ember-red and molten gold, casting the jagged volcanic terrain in an ominous glow.


    He barely spared a glance at the entry checkpoint, where a bored-looking attendant manned the station. Instead of gold, Riven pulled a handful of high-tier mana beast cores from his inventory and tossed them onto the counter.


    The attendant''s fatigue evaporated in an instant, his eyes widening as he scrambled to gather the mana beast cores. "Ah¡ªyes! More than enough. Please, watch yourself¡ªthe Infernal Beasts have been unusually aggressive lately."


    Riven didn''t acknowledge him, already striding past without a second glance.


    The moment he set foot beyond the entrance barrier, a wave of pure fire mana flooded over him.


    His abyssal flames shivered in response.


    Just like last time.


    The last time he had come here, his mana had resonated with the sheer density of the fire-aspected energy saturating the land. Now, standing in the heart of the volcanic isle again, he felt the same reaction¡ªexcept stronger.


    The abyss inside him welcomed the fire, devoured it, merged with it.


    He exhaled slowly, his fingers twitching at his sides as flames coiled around his knuckles, flickering hungrily. This was the perfect place. If there was anywhere he could push himself to the very threshold of the Fourth Circle, it was here.


    But first, he needed to secure a place to settle.


    The terrain stretched before him, jagged obsidian ridges and rivers of molten rock carving paths through the land like veins of liquid fire. The thrum of fire mana in the air was intoxicating, his body already beginning to adjust, to draw it in.


    A growl echoed from the left.


    Then another.


    Riven''s gaze flicked toward the movement. Three Infernal Hounds stalked from behind a cracked boulder, their bodies wreathed in fire, their molten eyes glowing with feral hunger. Not even five minutes on the island, and already, the beasts had caught his scent.


    He cracked his neck.


    Good.


    The first hound lunged.


    Riven stepped forward, abyssal flames igniting in response. He didn''t even draw his sword¡ªhis fist connected with the beast''s skull, and abyssal fire devoured the mana-fused flesh on impact. The hound let out a strangled yelp before it crumbled into cinders.


    The other two hesitated.


    He didn''t give them the chance to run.


    His shadow twisted beneath him, and in a single burst of speed, he was upon them. One precise kick shattered the ribs of the second hound, sending it skidding across the scorched ground. The third barely had time to react before his flames tore through its chest, consuming it from the inside.


    The fight lasted seconds.


    Riven let out a slow breath as the ashes settled. These creatures were nothing but warm-ups. Low-rank beasts, barely a challenge.


    He spent the next hour traversing the rugged landscape, his senses keenly attuned to the rising mana density. Eventually, he found it¡ªa small cave nestled in the side of a jagged cliff, its entrance barely large enough to be noticeable unless one was looking.


    Perfect.


    With a flick of his wrist, he reinforced the entrance with shadows, sealing it from unwanted guests. The temperature inside was still oppressively hot, but compared to the open plains of fire and lava outside, it was a welcome reprieve.


    He sat down, crossing his legs as he settled into a meditative position.


    Then, he opened his inventory.


    The case of Etherbloom potions gleamed in the dim firelight, each vial swirling with its signature silver-and-gold mana infusion. Riven smirked as he picked one up.


    With a smooth motion, he uncorked the vial and drank.


    Mana exploded through his veins.


    His eyes snapped shut as the Etherbloom integrated into his core, filling his reserves with a distinct, controlled surge¡ªnothing like the chaotic spikes of normal mana potions. His entire mana flow expanded, stretching and adjusting to accommodate the enhancement.


    [[ Mana Absorption +5% ]]


    Riven exhaled, rolling his shoulders. "Not bad."


    But it wasn''t enough.


    He uncorked another and drank.


    [[ Mana Absorption +5% ]]


    His reserves climbed, but already, he could feel the difference. The higher his mana capacity became, the harder it was to fill it. The percentage bar barely moved now, requiring more and more energy just to push it even slightly forward.


    It had been the same after reaching the Second and Third Circle. Each new ring required exponentially more mana than the last.


    But that was fine.


    Riven smirked, reaching for another potion.


    This was only the beginning.


    He would drown in mana if he had to.


    As he drained the last of the Etherbloom potions, a slow exhale left his lips, the surge of energy coursing through his veins like liquid fire.


    Mana trickled into his core, filtering in bit by bit¡ªbut the process was agonizingly slow. Each drop of power felt minuscule, barely making a dent in the vast reservoir he needed to fill. His fingers twitched at his sides, restless. Sitting still, simply absorbing mana, felt unnatural after weeks of relentless combat. His body craved movement, the burn of a fight, the tension of a real challenge.


    A thought struck him.


    ''System, can I use Created Space Training while absorbing mana?'' Riven asked, his mind already racing with possibilities.


    [[ Created Space Training can be activated while mana absorption is in progress. Warning: Extended usage may strain mental and physical limits if synchronization is not maintained. ]]


    A slow smirk tugged at Riven''s lips.


    Perfect.


    If time within the Created Space moved at a ratio of four to one¡ªfour hours there for every hour in real time¡ªthen he could accelerate his training without sacrificing mana absorption. Sitting still wasn''t an option. If his body needed motion, then he would push himself to the limit while his mana heart continued to refine the fire mana saturating this island.


    He closed his eyes, focusing his will.


    ''Activate Created Space Training.''


    The world around him warped. Shadows curled, pulling him under, and in an instant, reality shifted.


    When he opened his eyes again, he was no longer inside the cave.


    Instead, he stood in the vast battlefield of his own design.


    A sunless sky stretched above him, swirling with dark embers and abyssal mist. The ground beneath him was scorched obsidian, cracked with glowing veins of molten fire. Jagged spires jutted from the terrain like the bones of some forgotten titan, the air thick with the scent of burning stone.


    He opened his system window, eyes flicking over the various options as he scrolled through them.


    [[Opponent Customization]]


    Riven''s brow arched. Interesting. He selected it, and immediately, a list began to form¡ªnames appearing one by one, each belonging to someone he had fought before or observed in battle.


    His hand stilled as a particular name surfaced.


    His gaze darkened.


    Cassiel Vaigne.


    He tapped the name, and another screen materialized before him.


    [[ Cassiel Vaigne ¨C Known Power & Moves: 45% ]]


    [[ Synchronization Incomplete ]]


    Riven exhaled. It made sense. He had only witnessed Cassiel fight a handful of times¡ªjust enough for the system to replicate a partial version of him, but not his full strength.


    That was fine.


    He confirmed the selection.


    A mist of pure gold swirled into existence across from him, condensing, solidifying¡ªuntil a familiar figure stood before him.


    Cassiel Vaigne stood across from him, or at least, the system''s recreation of him. Even in this artificial space, his presence was suffocating¡ªgolden light radiated from his form, pulsing with divine mana so potent it felt like a physical force pressing against Riven''s skin. His armor gleamed with the same celestial brilliance, the edges of his pauldrons and gauntlets etched with sacred runes that pulsed in rhythmic intervals. In his grip, a longsword wreathed in golden fire hummed with restrained power. S§×ar?h the n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Riven''s lips curled into a smirk. "Let''s see how much of you the system got right."


    Cassiel tilted his head, a slow, almost lazy smirk pulling at his lips. "Oh? You think you''re ready for me, Shadow King?"


    Riven stiffened. The system-generated Cassiel shouldn''t have known his identity. Was it a flaw in the simulation?


    It didn''t matter.


    "Talk while you can," Riven said, abyssal flames licking up his arms. "I''m here to tear you down."


    Cassiel laughed¡ªa sharp, arrogant sound, as if the very idea was amusing. "By all means, try."


    The moment the words left his lips, Cassiel moved.


    Fast.


    A golden blur shot toward him, so quick that Riven barely had time to react. A split second later, the longsword was already swinging down toward him, divine fire crackling in its wake. Riven barely managed to dodge, shifting to the side as the blade carved a deep gouge into the ground where he had just stood.


    The force of the strike alone sent shockwaves rippling through the battlefield.


    Riven countered immediately, abyssal fire bursting from his palm as he lashed out with a sweeping strike. Cassiel barely moved, tilting his sword to deflect the flames, his golden aura surging forward and smothering the abyssal energy entirely.


    Riven''s eyes narrowed. Divine power suppresses abyssal flames?


    He didn''t have time to dwell on it. Cassiel was already on him again, stepping forward with the seamless grace of a seasoned warrior, his blade flashing like liquid sunlight.


    Riven''s sword materialized in his grasp just in time to meet the strike¡ªand the moment their blades clashed, he regretted it.


    The impact sent a shockwave through his entire body. Divine energy crashed into his arms, burning like liquid gold against his abyssal mana. His feet skidded backward against the scorched terrain, his grip tightening around his blade to keep from losing control.


    Cassiel didn''t let up.


    He pressed the attack, relentless and overwhelming. Each swing of his sword was precise, effortless¡ªlike fighting was as natural to him as breathing. Riven could barely parry, his fire struggling to even hold ground against the sheer force of Cassiel''s divine aura.


    Then, Cassiel twisted his blade mid-strike, redirecting the momentum.


    Before Riven could react, the flat of the sword slammed into his ribs with enough force to send him hurtling backward. He crashed against the jagged obsidian ground, breath leaving his lungs in a sharp gasp.


    Cassiel''s boots clicked against the stone as he strode toward him, golden fire still flickering along his weapon''s edge. His smirk deepened. "That''s it?"


    Riven gritted his teeth, pushing himself up. He had faced monsters, had fought beings beyond mortal comprehension. But this¡ªfacing divine power head-on¡ªwas a completely different battlefield.


    And he was losing.


    Badly.


    He surged forward again, abyssal flames roaring to life, his shadow twisting at his feet as he unleashed everything he had. His sword lashed out, moving with the speed of someone who had fought countless battles before¡ªbut it didn''t matter.


    Cassiel was faster.


    Stronger.


    More precise.


    Each strike was met with a perfect counter. Every burst of abyssal fire was snuffed out before it could reach its full potential. The balance of power wasn''t even close.


    And then¡ªCassiel feinted.


    Riven realized the mistake too late.


    His opponent shifted his stance mid-movement, golden fire coiling around his blade as he drove the pommel of his sword into Riven''s gut.


    Pain exploded through his body.


    His vision blurred.


    The next thing he knew, he was on his knees, his sword clattering to the ground beside him.


    Cassiel tilted his head, his expression almost¡­ disappointed. "For someone so arrogant, you really don''t know how outmatched you are."


    Riven spat blood onto the ground. His body ached, his mana flow disrupted, his abyssal flames flickering unsteadily.


    Cassiel exhaled, lifting his sword effortlessly. "I expected more."


    Then, without hesitation¡ªhe drove the blade through Riven''s chest.


    The moment the blade pierced his heart, the world shattered.

 Chapter 102 - 102: Losing Control Part 1

    [[ ¡ªRESET¡ª ]]


    Riven jolted upright in the Created Space, his breath coming in sharp gasps despite knowing it wasn''t real. His mind screamed at him, body still reeling from the phantom pain of divine energy tearing through him.


    He had lost.


    Badly.


    It had been so long since someone had defeated him in a fight. Longer still since he had been overpowered. Yet here he was, standing in the battlefield of his own creation, his body reset, his mana untouched¡ªbut the memory of Cassiel cutting him down burned in his mind like a searing brand.


    Riven clenched his fists. He hadn''t just been beaten. He had been destroyed.


    The fight barely lasted a full minute.


    His abyssal flames, his shadows¡ªeverything he had thrown at Cassiel had been rendered useless. The moment their blades clashed, the divine energy surging through Cassiel''s sword had swallowed his abyssal flames whole. It didn''t just resist his power¡ªit consumed it, forcing the abyss back like it was a mere trickle against an ocean.


    Riven had tried to adapt, using his speed, his raw strength¡ªbut it hadn''t mattered.


    Cassiel fought with a terrifying precision. His golden sword had moved through the battlefield like an extension of his own will, each strike executed with absolute control. Riven''s defenses had crumbled under the sheer overwhelming force of divine energy. And then¡ª


    That last strike.


    A single stab.


    Cassiel''s blade had torn through his chest, his abyssal mana cracking, splintering, collapsing in on itself. Riven had barely had time to react before the pain registered, before the golden light had obliterated him.


    Even now, standing in the reset battlefield, Riven could still feel the lingering phantom pain of that attack, the deep, searing agony of divine power unmaking his abyssal strength.


    His fingers trembled at his sides.


    Divine mana was potent. Too potent. He had always known it would be a natural counter to abyssal energy, but this?


    This was worse than he had anticipated.


    Riven had fought countless opponents, but none of them had felt like this. None of them had made him feel powerless.


    His jaw tightened. His fingers curled into a fist.


    Cassiel was one of the greatest obstacles standing in his way. If he wanted to take his throne¡ªif he wanted to crush the Solis Kingdom¡ªhe would have to overcome divine power.


    He would have to overcome Cassiel.


    Riven exhaled, steadying himself. He would fight again. And again. And again.


    Until he won.


    ¡ªx¡ª


    [[ Second Attempt ]]


    Riven''s sword clashed against Cassiel''s once more, the sheer weight of divine energy crashing against him like a tidal wave. His arms shook violently under the impact, the force reverberating through his bones. His grip nearly faltered.


    No¡ªfocus.


    He twisted his stance, dodging to the side just before Cassiel''s blade could follow through.


    A flash of gold¡ªCassiel was already pivoting, already tracking his movement with terrifying precision.


    Riven threw out a surge of abyssal fire, attempting to force distance between them¡ªonly to watch in disbelief as the golden light surrounding Cassiel''s blade burned through it effortlessly, like it was nothing.


    "Pathetic," Cassiel mocked. Sear?h the N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Riven snarled, pushing forward, his abyssal flames surging around his blade as he swung¡ª


    Too slow.


    Cassiel sidestepped and intercepted his strike with terrifying ease, the divine energy around his weapon forcing Riven''s blade back as if his strength meant nothing.


    Then came the counter.


    A blinding arc of divine power slammed into his ribs, blood spurting from his mouth.


    A split second of burning, searing pain.


    And then¡ª


    [[ ¡ªRESET¡ª ]]


    ¡ªx¡ª


    [[ Fourth Attempt ]]


    Riven adjusted his movements, forcing himself to match Cassiel''s speed, to react before he was overwhelmed.


    He ducked low, his body weaving through the relentless divine-infused strikes with practiced precision, sweat slicking his skin as he anticipated the next attack.


    Cassiel''s eyes gleamed. "Better."


    A feint.


    Too late.


    The golden blade drove into his side.


    White-hot pain.


    [[ ¡ªRESET¡ª ]]


    ¡ªx¡ª


    [[ Ninth Attempt ]]


    His instincts sharpened.


    He no longer reacted too late.


    He watched for patterns, for openings, for the slightest shift in Cassiel''s stance that might betray an exploitable weakness.


    Cassiel smirked, as if recognizing the change. "Still not enough."


    A single precise thrust, and divine energy exploded inside Riven''s shoulder.


    [[ ¡ªRESET¡ª ]]


    ¡ªx¡ª


    [[ Twenty-Sixth Attempt ]]


    Riven had lost track of time. The minutes had bled into hours, each fight ending the same way¡ªdeath, reset, repeat. Over and over, he clashed with Cassiel, only to be cut down, consumed by divine power, shattered by overwhelming force. And each time, the system dragged him back, forcing him to relive the battle again.


    Twenty-six deaths.


    Riven gritted his teeth, his sword intercepting Cassiel''s strike with a ferocity that rattled through his arms. His muscles burned, his mana surged, but this time, he didn''t collapse.


    Riven wasn''t just fighting to survive¡ªhe was fighting to win.


    Every clash, every exchange, he pushed himself harder. He didn''t retreat, didn''t falter, didn''t accept defeat. Every death was a lesson. Every failure carved a new path forward.


    And for the first time¡ªCassiel''s expression darkened.


    That alone was enough to fuel Riven''s resolve.


    ¡ªx¡ª


    [[ Sixty-seventh Attempt ]]


    Sweat dripped from his brow, evaporating the moment it touched the heat of his abyssal flames. He could feel it now¡ªthe creeping exhaustion, the weight of his repeated failures. But there was something deeper beneath the exhaustion.


    Frustration.


    Riven had fought countless enemies, crushed warriors far stronger than him, but he had never lost this many times in battle.


    This was¡­ different.


    Cassiel''s divine mana didn''t just overpower him¡ªit suppressed him. It burned through his abyssal fire as if it were feeding off it, turning his greatest weapon into nothing more than dying embers.


    Was this what the Shadow Kingdom had faced before its fall?


    Was this the power that had slaughtered his people?


    His breath came ragged, his heart pounding against his ribs.


    It wasn''t just frustration anymore.


    It was rage.


    Each death piled onto the last, each failure a weight pressing against his ribs, clawing at his patience, at his sanity. The battlefield had become an endless cycle of pain and rebirth, a loop where Cassiel struck him down again and again without hesitation, without effort.


    And with every reset, something inside him twisted.


    The abyss stirred¡ªdeep, primal, seething.


    It curled in the depths of his soul, unfurling inch by inch with each loss, feeding on his fury, his hatred, his refusal to accept defeat.


    The pressure built.


    It pressed against his skin, against his bones, demanding release, demanding to consume.


    Until it felt like he was going to explode.


    Cassiel lunged again, golden light blazing.


    And this time, Riven didn''t evade.


    Instead, he let go.


    The moment Cassiel''s blade descended, Riven let the abyss fully consume him.


    Not just in his flames.


    Not just in his sword.


    But everything.


    The shadows beneath his feet writhed, thick tendrils of abyssal energy snaking up his body, wrapping around him like a second skin. His mana heart throbbed painfully, stretching wider than ever before, its limits breaking as it tried to contain the surge of raw abyssal force.


    Cassiel''s golden light met abyssal darkness.


    But this time¡ªit didn''t burn through.


    It clashed.


    For the first time, the divine energy didn''t immediately overpower him.


    Instead, the abyss pulled at it.


    Devoured it.


    The sheer pressure between them sent shockwaves through the battlefield, the ground beneath them cracking apart. Riven felt it¡ªthe divine mana being torn from Cassiel''s blade, its sacred purity corrupting, twisting, shifting as it sank into the abyss.


    Cassiel''s eyes narrowed.


    Riven''s grin stretched wide, a sharp, almost feral expression¡ªmore like a predator baring its fangs than a smile.


    So this was the answer.


    His abyssal mana wasn''t meant to match divine power. It was meant to consume it.


    Cassiel''s blade surged forward and Riven didn''t dodge.


    He let it come, let it connect with his abyss-infused body¡ªand the moment it did, the divine power that should have annihilated him was instead siphoned into the abyss.


    For the first time, Cassiel staggered.


    A crack ran along the golden sword in his hands.


    His balance faltered.


    And Riven saw his opening.


    He lunged.


    Abyssal fire erupted from his blade, aimed directly at Cassiel''s heart.


    And just before his strike landed¡ª


    [[ ¡ªRESET¡ª ]]


    ¡ªx¡ª


    Riven jolted back into reality.


    His hands still burned, abyssal energy thrashing violently around him, his body shaking with barely controlled power. He could feel it¡ªthe taste of divine mana still lingering in his veins, the abyssal void inside him screaming for more.


    His vision flickered.


    The battlefield blurred.


    Everything looked wrong.


    His own breath sounded distorted, his heartbeat erratic, his body thrumming with a power he didn''t recognize.


    A hand gripped his wrist.


    "Riven."


    The voice barely registered.


    Another squeeze¡ªfirmer this time, grounding him.


    "Riven, stop."


    The world snapped back into place.


    Nyx''s face hovered in front of him, her eyes sharp with something between concern and warning. Her grip on his wrist was iron-tight, her own shadow energy pressed against his, forcing it back.


    Riven blinked, the haze in his mind clearing.


    His breath hitched.


    The training realm was gone.


    He was back in the cave.


    His body still shook from the aftereffects, his fingers twitching involuntarily, his abyssal fire still coiling violently around him, refusing to settle.


    Nyx didn''t let go.


    Her voice was softer now. "You lost control."


    Riven swallowed, flexing his fingers.


    He had been close¡ªso close¡ªto fully devouring divine mana. But in doing so, he had lost himself.


    A frenzied, hungry part of him had surfaced.


    And that¡­ was dangerous.


    He clenched his jaw, forcing the abyss back into submission, the fire at his fingertips finally dimming.


    For the first time in a while, he felt something like unease curling in his chest.


    He had gained something powerful.


    But he had also felt something unfamiliar.


    Something that wanted to take over.

 Chapter 103 - 103: Losing Control Part 2

    Every time he had been angry before, there had always been something lurking at the edges of his mind¡ªa dark whisper clawing at his thoughts, feeding his fury, pushing him further. He had always felt on the verge of something, an unbearable pressure building inside him, just waiting to break free.


    Now, he understood.


    It wasn''t just rage.


    It was the Abyss itself, coursing through his veins¡ªpure, raw, and untamed. A power so vast, so overwhelming, that it threatened to consume him whole.


    It was intoxicating.


    And terrifying.


    A sharp voice cut through the heavy silence.


    "Riven."


    Nyx stood beside him, her expression unreadable, but her stance was tense¡ªtoo tense. Her obsidian eyes, usually laced with amusement or sharp calculation, held something dangerously close to concern. She had seen him battle, seen him wield abyssal flames with terrifying precision.


    But this?


    This was something else.


    "You lost control," she said, stepping forward, her gaze locked onto him. "I felt it. Even outside the Created Space, the sheer pressure of your mana nearly tore through reality."


    Riven flexed his fingers, still feeling the lingering heat of abyssal power thrumming beneath his skin. His body ached¡ªnot from exhaustion, but from something deeper, something unfamiliar.


    "It was just for a moment," he muttered, rolling his shoulders.


    Nyx didn''t look convinced. "A moment is all it takes."


    She crouched before him, studying him with the same piercing intensity she used when evaluating battle strategies. "Velmorian wielded the Abyss, but not like that. Not this¡­ raw. Even when he pushed his limits, it never felt like this." Her voice lowered, edged with something uneasy. "This was different. You weren''t wielding it. It was wielding you."


    Riven exhaled through his nose, tilting his head back against the cave wall. "It wasn''t that bad."


    Nyx''s eyes narrowed. "You don''t see yourself right now." She jabbed a finger at his chest. "Your mana veins are pulsing like they''re about to rupture. Your body isn''t meant to handle that level of power yet. If you let too much of the Abyss through, you won''t just burn out¡ªyou''ll tear yourself apart."


    Riven smirked slightly, but there was no amusement behind it. "Then I''ll just have to learn how to control it."


    Nyx scoffed, standing up, but there was no satisfaction in her usual sharp remarks. "You always say that. And yet every time, you push yourself closer to something you might not come back from."


    He met her gaze, unwavering. "I''m not Velmorian, Nyx. I''m not going to lose."


    She exhaled slowly, pinching the bridge of her nose as if trying to stave off an oncoming headache. "Just¡­ don''t do anything reckless," she muttered at last.


    Riven smirked. "When am I not careful?"


    Nyx scoffed, unimpressed.


    But his mind was already elsewhere.


    Closing his eyes, he steadied his breath and focused his will once more.


    ''Activate Created Space Training.''


    The world twisted.


    The cave melted away, and the battlefield returned.


    The sky above stretched endlessly, dark and storm-laced, while the ground beneath his feet burned with abyssal veins, cracking under the pressure of his mana.


    And across from him¡ªCassiel.


    Golden light pulsed from the paladin''s form, his sword gleaming with holy radiance. His presence alone felt suffocating, the sheer weight of divine energy pressing down on the battlefield like an unyielding force.


    Riven took a slow breath.


    This time, he wouldn''t just endure.


    He would conquer.


    Cassiel lunged, a flash of gold splitting the air.


    Riven moved, his Crimson Mirage activating instantly¡ªhis form splitting into flickering afterimages as he evaded, his body twisting in an unnatural, unpredictable motion.


    The divine blade missed his chest by a fraction of an inch.


    Riven retaliated, shadows twisting at his feet as he unleashed Scorching Chain, the abyssal bindings lashing toward Cassiel in an attempt to restrain him.


    The paladin barely flinched.


    A pulse of divine energy erupted from him, obliterating the chains before they could even tighten.


    Too fast.


    Too strong.


    Riven''s grip on his sword tightened.


    He needed more.


    He needed to break through Cassiel''s defenses.


    He clenched his jaw and let his anger build¡ªnot enough to lose control, but enough to feel that dark presence begin to stir inside him.


    The Abyss.


    He reached for it.


    Tried to siphon just a fraction of its power.


    The result was instant.


    A surge of abyssal energy tore through him, not a trickle, not a controlled stream¡ªbut a flood.


    Riven barely had time to react before it overtook his senses, black flames erupting around his form, consuming everything in their path.


    His mind blurred.


    His vision twisted. sea??h th§× Nov§×l?ire.n(e)t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    For a brief second, all he saw was darkness.


    Then¡ª


    White-hot pain.


    Cassiel''s sword pierced through his chest, golden flames searing his core.


    Riven gasped.


    [[ ¡ªRESET¡ª ]]


    He hit the ground, coughing violently as he was yanked back to the start of the training space.


    His breath came ragged, his hands trembling slightly as he processed what had just happened.


    Too much.


    He had drawn in too much at once, and the Abyss had overwhelmed him completely. He hadn''t wielded it¡ªit had drowned him.


    Again.


    Try again.


    He stood, rolling his shoulders, shaking off the lingering sensation of losing control.


    Once more.


    He activated Phantom Step, his body flickering between shadows as he dodged Cassiel''s initial strike. This time, he controlled his breath, his emotions, focusing as he reached for the Abyss again.


    Just a sliver.


    The dark energy stirred within him, no longer an uncontrollable flood threatening to consume him but a slow, steady tide rising from the depths. It coiled around his mana heart, waiting, watching, no longer thrashing wildly against his control but pressing at the edges of his restraint, eager to be unleashed.


    Cassiel moved first. A flash of gold. His blade came down in a blinding arc, divine energy radiating from its edge, the sheer weight of it threatening to carve through everything in its path.


    Riven met the strike head-on, abyssal fire igniting along his sword¡ªnot in a chaotic burst, not in a reckless surge, but with deliberate control. The moment their blades clashed, the air crackled with opposing forces, divine light and abyssal darkness colliding in a violent struggle.


    But this time, Riven didn''t buckle.


    The force of the impact no longer sent him skidding back, no longer shattered his footing or threatened to tear the weapon from his grasp. His body held firm, the abyss flowing through his veins like tempered steel rather than raw, unbridled chaos. The golden light of Cassiel''s sword sizzled against the abyssal flames, neither overpowering the other completely, the balance of their clash shifting ever so slightly.


    And this time¡ªhis sword didn''t crack under the pressure.


    This time, his flames didn''t flicker and die out.


    Cassiel''s expression shifted, his ever-present confidence thinning just a fraction, the faintest glimmer of something else flickering across his face.


    Riven saw it.


    And he grinned.


    He was getting closer.


    The battle raged on, a relentless cycle of death and rebirth, each clash pressing Riven closer to the edge of his limits¡ªand beyond them.


    This time, he didn''t just fight to endure. He fought to learn, to adapt, to carve a path through the overwhelming weight of divine energy suffocating the battlefield.


    Cassiel moved like a golden specter, divine light trailing his every motion, his blade a seamless extension of his will. Every strike was precise, every counter flawless, as if he had fought Riven a thousand times before and knew exactly how to dismantle him.


    Riven had no choice but to move faster, think sharper.


    He activated Crimson Mirage, his form flickering in and out of existence, a series of heat-induced afterimages making it impossible to pin him down. But Cassiel didn''t hesitate¡ªhis sword split through the illusions with frightening accuracy, divine energy burning through the remnants of Riven''s fakes like paper catching fire.


    Too fast.


    Riven ducked beneath a sweeping slash, twisting his body mid-motion, his Phantom Step activating just in time to shift him into Cassiel''s blind spot. His sword lashed out, a surge of abyssal fire roaring to life along the blade as he drove it toward Cassiel''s unguarded ribs.


    But just before it struck¡ª


    Cassiel turned.


    A blinding pulse of divine energy exploded outward.


    Riven barely had time to brace before the golden light slammed into him, obliterating his abyssal fire, reversing his momentum in an instant. His body hurtled backward, skidding across the cracked battlefield as Cassiel straightened, his expression unreadable.


    "You''re improving," he admitted, voice calm but sharp. "But it''s not enough."


    Riven snarled under his breath, dragging himself back up.


    Not enough?


    Then he would take more.


    The Abyss stirred, responding to his call, dark energy curling around his limbs. He forced himself to focus, to control it, to siphon it in only a fraction at a time.


    Abyssal fire surged through his veins¡ªpowerful, but contained.


    He would not lose himself again.


    He charged.


    Their swords met once more, but this time, the impact didn''t send him reeling. Riven held firm, pressing forward, matching Cassiel''s divine energy with abyssal fury. His Scorching Chains lashed out, coiling toward Cassiel''s wrists, but the paladin flicked his blade, golden light severing the bindings in an instant.


    Riven was ready.


    He twisted, using the broken chains as a feint, his Ember Cloak flaring to life. The fire-wreathed armor increased his speed, his reaction time sharpening to match Cassiel''s movements. His strikes came faster, more precise. Every swing of his sword now carried the weight of both his skill and the controlled abyssal power he was learning to wield.


    Cassiel''s smirk faltered.


    Riven saw it.


    And then¡ª


    He let go.


    Not completely, not enough to drown, but just enough to pull from the Abyss.


    A single moment of surrender.


    The world slowed.


    His veins ignited with something beyond fire, beyond magic. His vision sharpened, the battlefield around him twisting into something more vivid, more real. The threads of divine mana crackling around Cassiel became tangible, visible patterns of light.


    And for the first time¡ª


    Riven saw a weakness.


    Cassiel moved, divine energy arcing toward him like a cleaving sunbeam¡ª


    And Riven was already gone.


    His body flickered, Phantom Step activating seamlessly, not as an escape, but as an advance. He slipped through the divine pressure as if it welcomed him, his sword humming with abyssal power that no longer fought against him but flowed with him.


    He reappeared behind Cassiel.


    And struck.


    The impact landed.


    Cassiel twisted just in time to avoid a fatal blow, but Riven''s sword still carved across his shoulder, abyssal fire lashing through the divine aura that once felt untouchable.


    For the first time¡ª


    Cassiel staggered.


    Riven''s breath came heavy, his body alight with pain and power, his grip tight around his sword.


    But he grinned.


    Cassiel exhaled, rolling his shoulder, inspecting the blackened cut with mild interest. Then, slowly, he chuckled.


    "Interesting." He turned back toward Riven, golden light crackling at his fingertips.


    Riven smirked, flames licking at his skin.


    Again.

 Chapter 104 - 104: Losing Control Part 3

    The world reset.


    Riven exhaled sharply as the battlefield reformed around him, the cracked obsidian ground pulsing with abyssal veins beneath his feet. The golden light of Cassiel''s divine presence returned, suffocating, oppressive¡ªan unyielding force pressing down on him like a celestial hammer.


    But this time, Riven didn''t immediately charge.


    He stood still, his grip tightening around his sword, feeling the lingering ache in his limbs. The pain wasn''t real¡ªthis was the Created Space¡ªbut his mind and body had experienced every brutal impact, every searing cut. He had lost count of how many times he had fallen, how many resets he had endured.


    And yet, he was still here.


    Cassiel watched him, his stance relaxed, yet poised. His golden eyes gleamed beneath the shifting glow of divine energy. "You''re learning," he mused, tilting his head ever so slightly. "But it''s still not enough."


    Riven smirked, "I''m not the one who just took a hit."


    Cassiel''s fingers flexed over the hilt of his sword. "A scratch."


    The space between them exploded.


    Cassiel moved first, his blade a streak of radiance, divine mana cascading from every strike. Riven barely had time to react before he was forced to move, his Phantom Step activating in rapid bursts. His body flickered through the battlefield, barely staying ahead of the paladin''s relentless assault.


    But he wasn''t just dodging anymore.


    Every shift, every step, he was calculating. Watching.


    His Crimson Mirage ignited, heated afterimages flickering in the air like distorted ghosts, forcing Cassiel to divide his focus. His Scorching Chains lashed out again, but this time, he feigned an attack from the left, only to twist, the real chains surging from the right, aiming for Cassiel''s weapon arm.


    The golden warrior reacted instantly, divine light flaring as he severed the chains¡ª


    And that was exactly what Riven had planned for.


    The moment Cassiel''s divine energy burned through the attack, Riven was already moving in, his abyssal fire coiling around his sword in a controlled, searing arc. The momentum carried him straight through the opening, his blade cutting through the divine aura¡ª


    And landing.


    His sword bit into Cassiel''s forearm, abyssal flames surging along the cut, clashing violently with the golden mana trying to heal the wound.


    Cassiel''s eyes widened¡ªonly for a moment.


    Then he moved.


    A pulse of divine energy erupted from his body, throwing Riven backward. The force of it sent him skidding across the battlefield, his arms trembling from the sheer power behind the blast.


    Cassiel inspected the wound, golden flames licking over his skin as it began to heal, slower this time. He exhaled, rolling his wrist. "I''ll admit¡­" His gaze lifted back to Riven, sharper now. "That was impressive."


    Riven let out a breath, his smirk growing. "That almost sounded like a compliment."


    Cassiel''s lips quirked. "Almost."


    The air shifted.


    Riven tensed just in time to block, his blade barely catching Cassiel''s as the paladin closed the distance instantly, faster than before. The weight of the divine energy behind his strikes was stronger now, heavier, forcing Riven onto the defensive.


    He''s increasing his output.


    Riven gritted his teeth, every clash sending tremors through his arms. Cassiel was adapting too.


    It wasn''t just Riven who was learning.


    Another exchange¡ªdivine light against abyssal fire, gold clashing against black in a blinding display. Riven adjusted, fire roaring to life along his blade, the black flames reaching out like hungry shadows.


    But Cassiel didn''t retreat this time.


    He moved into the flames.


    Riven barely had time to widen his eyes before Cassiel''s hand closed around his wrist, a divine pulse shattering his flames, breaking his stance completely.


    The next second¡ª


    A knee drove into his ribs.


    Air exploded from his lungs.


    Then, before he could recover¡ª


    Cassiel''s elbow slammed into his jaw, sending him staggering backward. His vision blurred for half a second¡ªlong enough for Cassiel to close in, his sword thrusting forward, golden energy flaring¡ª


    And piercing straight through his chest.


    White-hot agony flared through his entire being, the divine flames burning him from the inside out.


    Riven gasped¡ª


    And the world shattered.


    [[ ¡ªRESET¡ª ]]


    Riven cursed violently as he was dragged back to the start, his breath ragged. His body remembered the pain even if the wounds were gone.


    Damn it.


    Too slow.


    He clenched his fists, his jaw tight, fury coiling in his chest. He was getting closer¡ªbut it still wasn''t enough.


    He had held back. He had controlled his abyssal power, siphoned it in small amounts, kept himself from drowning in it.


    But Cassiel was still stronger.


    Riven''s fingers twitched.


    He had seen the weakness. He had cut through his divine aura. His abyssal flames had worked¡ªbut he needed more.


    Slowly, his eyes flickered with dark fire.


    How much more could he take?


    He exhaled, his body steadying.


    Once more.


    He activated Phantom Step, this time moving even faster, his instincts sharpening. No hesitation. No doubt.


    Cassiel lunged, his divine sword cutting through the space between them, but Riven was already dodging, his body shifting seamlessly. Crimson Mirage activated¡ªexcept this time, the afterimages weren''t just distractions.


    They moved with him.


    They copied his exact steps, attacking from multiple angles, making it impossible for Cassiel to tell which one was real.


    Cassiel hesitated for a fraction of a second¡ª


    Riven struck.


    His blade came down faster than before, abyssal fire coiling around the steel, a perfect blend of darkness and control¡ª


    Cassiel blocked.


    But Riven didn''t stop.


    His abyssal flames flickered¡ªand then pulsed.


    Not out of control, not in an overwhelming surge¡ª


    But in a deliberate siphon.


    The dark fire lashed out, not to burn Cassiel¡ªbut to consume.


    To devour.


    The divine light flickered.


    Cassiel''s eyes widened, just as Riven''s flames wrapped around the golden energy, feeding on it, pulling it inward like a black hole.


    For the first time¡ª


    Cassiel took a step back.


    Riven grinned, baring his teeth.


    Got you.


    But before he could press forward¡ª


    His body locked up.


    Pain ripped through his veins¡ªtoo much, too fast.


    The divine energy he had siphoned clashed violently with the abyss, the two forces raging inside of him, threatening to tear him apart from the inside. His knees buckled, his vision darkened¡ª


    And suddenly, the world collapsed.


    Riven''s eyes snapped open, his breath ragged as he was pulled back into reality. The oppressive heat of the cave pressed down on him, but it was nothing compared to the fire burning inside his veins. His mana heart pulsed erratically, his body shaking from the raw energy still coursing through him.


    "Riven." Nyx''s voice was steady, but there was an unmistakable edge to it¡ªtight, controlled, yet laced with something dangerously close to unease. "What the hell did you just do?" she asked, her dark eyes scanning him, sharp with suspicion.


    Riven exhaled slowly, feeling the remnants of divine and abyssal energy still crackling beneath his skin. His head was pounding, his muscles tense, but beneath the pain, beneath the exhaustion, there was something else.


    Satisfaction.


    He smirked whilst rising fully to his feet. "I think," he murmured, his voice rough but steady, "I just figured something out."


    Nyx remained where she was, watching him carefully, her arms folding across her chest. "And what exactly is that?"


    Riven rolled his shoulders, testing the way his mana flowed now¡ªdifferent, refined. His body still ached, but it was adjusting. He could feel the shift, the way the Abyss responded to him now, no longer thrashing wildly, but¡­ waiting.


    He met Nyx''s gaze, his smirk deepening. "That divine energy Cassiel wields? I can devour it."


    Nyx''s eyes widened, the weight of his words sinking in. She blinked once, then again, as if testing whether she had misheard. "Devour¡­ divine mana?" Her voice was steady, but there was something new beneath it¡ªsomething sharp, edged with disbelief and unease.


    She didn''t move for a long moment, her expression unreadable. But Riven knew her well enough to recognize what was running through her mind. As one of his most loyal generals, she had seen him push himself to terrifying limits before. She had witnessed his rise, his brutal efficiency, his ability to manipulate the abyss like no one else before him.


    But this?


    This was different.


    "Devour divine mana," she echoed, slower this time, as if testing how the words tasted in her mouth. Her jaw tightened. "Do you have any idea what that means?"


    Riven exhaled, flexing his fingers as the lingering divine energy still clashed with the abyss inside him. His mana heart pulsed erratically, but beneath the discomfort, he could feel the shift¡ªhis body was adapting, his connection to the Abyss deepening. He could take in divine energy, and despite the violent rejection at first, his mana hadn''t broken under the pressure.


    If anything, it had changed.


    "It means I have another way to win," Riven said, meeting Nyx''s stare. "The next time I fight a Paladin, they won''t have the same advantage."


    Nyx''s fingers twitched at her sides. "Or it means you''re stepping into something you don''t fully understand," she countered, her voice sharp. "Divine and abyssal forces aren''t meant to coexist, Riven. You saw what happened. It nearly tore you apart."


    "Nearly," Riven corrected, his smirk darkening. "But it didn''t."


    Nyx''s frustration flickered across her face for only a second before she masked it. She sighed, rubbing her temples. "This isn''t just about whether you can or can''t handle it. The Abyss isn''t some tool to be refined like a spell or a weapon. You''re not just wielding it anymore¡ªyou''re letting it consume things beyond its reach."


    "That''s the point," Riven said, stepping past her toward the entrance of the cave. His voice was calm, but there was an undeniable finality to it. "The Paladins have always had the upper hand because of divine mana."


    He turned back, meeting Nyx''s gaze head-on.


    "But now, I can turn their greatest strength into nothing."


    Nyx''s lips pressed into a thin line, her sharp eyes searching his face for any hesitation, any doubt. But there was none. Just unwavering certainty.


    She let out a slow breath, straightening. When she spoke, her tone was measured, but there was something colder beneath it.


    "You do realize you''re treading into something even Velmorian never dared to attempt," she said. "Even he didn''t try to corrupt divine power."


    Riven chuckled, his smirk tilting. "I''m not Velmorian."


    "No," Nyx murmured, watching him carefully. "You''re not."


    A pause.


    She studied him for another lingering moment, then sighed again, shaking her head. "Fine. But if you end up on the ground convulsing from divine poisoning, don''t expect me to be surprised."


    "I''d expect nothing less," Riven said smoothly.


    Nyx scoffed, but there was no real heat behind it. "Just don''t go too far into the unknown," she muttered, rubbing the bridge of her nose.


    The tension in her shoulders barely eased, but Riven could tell she had already accepted it. She wasn''t going to stop him.


    Because deep down, Nyx knew the truth. S§×arch* The Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    This wasn''t just about power.


    This was about war.


    The Paladins, the Solis Kingdom, the forces that had destroyed the Shadow Kingdom¡ªthey all relied on divine power as their trump card. It was their shield, their sword, their ultimate defense against the Abyss.


    And if Riven could devour it?


    If he could make divine energy his own?


    Then the war was already shifting in his favor.

 Chapter 105 - 105: Losing Control Final Part

    The battlefield reformed.


    Riven exhaled, his breath steady, his muscles thrumming with tension as the weight of divine energy pressed down on him once more. The air between him and Cassiel crackled with opposing forces¡ªgolden light radiating from the Paladin like a sun, abyssal darkness coiling around Riven like living shadows.


    This time, he wasn''t here to endure.


    This time, he wasn''t here to learn.


    This time, he was here to win.


    Cassiel met his gaze, his stance unshaken. There was no arrogance in his expression, no mockery¡ªonly unwavering confidence, the kind that came from absolute certainty in his own strength. "You''re persistent," he mused. "But persistence alone won''t close the gap between us."


    Riven smirked. "I''m not here to close the gap." His abyssal flames flared, devouring the ground beneath him. "I''m here to erase it."


    Cassiel''s eyes narrowed.


    And then they moved.


    The battlefield exploded.


    Cassiel lunged, his golden blade cutting through the air like a streak of pure light. Riven reacted instantly, his body flickering as Phantom Step activated, his form twisting through the battlefield in erratic bursts. Divine arcs of energy slashed through the space he had occupied moments before, carving molten scars into the obsidian ground.


    But Riven was already countering.


    He wove through the divine onslaught, his Crimson Mirage igniting¡ªdozens of heat-induced afterimages scattering in every direction. Cassiel''s golden gaze flickered, analyzing, discerning the fakes from the real¡ª


    Too late.


    Riven struck from his blind spot.


    Abyssal fire roared down his blade as he drove it toward Cassiel''s ribs. At the last second, Cassiel pivoted, his sword flashing to meet the strike.


    The impact sent a shockwave rippling through the battlefield.


    For the first time, Riven didn''t stagger back.


    He held firm.


    Cassiel''s eyes flickered with something almost like surprise.


    Then divine light surged from his form, his power increasing again. He pressed forward, his strikes turning relentless, hammering down with the sheer, oppressive force of a being bathed in golden radiance.


    But Riven didn''t retreat.


    He adapted.


    Each time their swords clashed, Riven siphoned a sliver of divine energy. At first, it was small¡ªtoo little to change the course of battle. But as the fight wore on, as Cassiel poured more of his divine power into his attacks, Riven fed.


    The Abyss inside him drank.


    The golden light around Cassiel''s sword flickered.


    He noticed.


    His blade swung down, golden energy coiling around the edge, a strike meant to end the fight.


    Riven let it come.


    He didn''t block.


    He opened himself fully to the Abyss.


    The moment the divine strike made contact, Riven''s abyssal flames didn''t resist.


    They devoured.


    Cassiel''s power, once untouchable, was swallowed whole. The golden arc of his blade dimmed as it connected with Riven''s shoulder¡ªby the time it cut through, the energy had already been corrupted, turned to nothing but fading embers.


    Cassiel''s stance faltered.


    Riven didn''t hesitate.


    His Scorching Chains lashed out¡ªthis time, when they wrapped around Cassiel''s arm, the divine light didn''t burn through them instantly. The abyss had already begun to take root.


    Cassiel''s golden aura flickered again.


    Riven struck.


    His sword cut deep into Cassiel''s side, abyssal fire sinking into his flesh¡ªnot just burning, but consuming. Divine energy poured from the wound, but instead of healing¡ª


    It was pulled into Riven.


    Cassiel''s breath hitched.


    His body weakened.


    Riven could feel it now¡ªthe divine energy trying to resist, to purify, but the Abyss wouldn''t let go. It was hunger itself, twisting, corrupting, claiming what it desired.


    For the first time, Cassiel''s expression changed.


    Shock.


    Disbelief.


    "You¡­" His voice was tight, his grip on his sword faltering. "You''re¡­ consuming it?"


    Riven grinned, baring his teeth. "Looks like it."


    Cassiel tried to push back¡ªhis blade swung, divine energy surging¡ªbut it was slower. Weaker.


    Riven dodged with ease, his Phantom Step taking him to Cassiel''s flank before the Paladin could even track his movement.


    Riven drove his sword into Cassiel''s back.


    Abyssal fire surged, curling through the divine light, tearing through it like ink devouring gold. Cassiel choked, his body trembling as his very essence was siphoned from him, his divine mana unraveling, being pulled into the abyss.


    It was done.


    Cassiel fell.


    Riven straightened, hands trembling slightly as the last of the golden light dimmed from his opponent''s form. His body twitched from the sheer magnitude of what he had just absorbed, his mana heart pounding erratically.


    The divine energy inside him raged¡ªwild, untamed, trying to reject its new vessel. His abyssal mana clashed against it, a storm of opposing forces tearing through his veins.


    He clenched his jaw.


    For a moment, he felt like he was going to burst apart, his body unable to contain both divine and abyssal forces at once.


    The Abyss inside him shifted, no longer resisting the divine energy but twisting around it, devouring it, molding it into something else entirely. The golden light that had once burned so fiercely dimmed, its purity unraveling, drawn into the abyss like a dying ember swallowed by the void. Where there had once been rejection, there was now consumption, a seamless, terrifying transformation.


    Riven inhaled sharply as the last remnants of divine energy were corrupted, bent to his will, reshaped into something darker. His abyssal mana pulsed in response, no longer fighting the foreign power but claiming it, turning it into dark mana. His body trembled, his veins burning with a sensation that was neither pain nor pleasure, but something far deeper¡ªevolution.


    And then, he laughed.


    It was low, edged with dark amusement, the sound vibrating through the empty battlefield. The irony was almost poetic. Even the most sacred forces, the light so many clung to, could be twisted. Even the holiest of warriors could be corrupted. In the end, there was no such thing as true purity in this world.


    The Abyss took everything.


    Riven exhaled slowly as the battlefield began to dissolve around him, the illusion fading with his victory. But this was no ordinary win. This was something far more dangerous than just another conquest.


    This was proof.


    He could devour divine power.


    He could turn light into darkness.


    And the Paladins?


    They wouldn''t stand a chance.


    A familiar chime echoed through the fading battlefield, and Riven''s vision flickered with a sudden notification.


    [[ System Alert: Due to the absorption of an extreme energy source, the Created Training Space will be temporarily disabled for recalibration and power restoration. Estimated time until reactivation: 2 months. ]]


    Riven exhaled as the last remnants of the battlefield dissipated into nothing. So even the system had limits. He had pushed it too far, siphoning an unprecedented amount of divine mana. He should have expected it¡ªthe sheer scale of the battle, the raw clash of divinity and abyssal energy, had shaken the very foundation of his simulated training space.


    Fine. He had gotten what he came for. S§×ar?h the N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Another notification flickered into his vision.


    [[ Mana Core Capacity Reached. Advancement to Fourth Circle Available. ]]


    A slow smirk curled at the edges of Riven''s lips.


    Finally.


    The battle against Cassiel had not just been a test of his abilities¡ªit had been a threshold. Every ounce of divine mana he had devoured had pushed him to his limits, forcing his mana heart to expand, to evolve. And now, he was ready to break through once more.


    He clenched his fist, feeling the sheer weight of mana coursing through his body, stronger than ever. The Fourth Circle wasn''t just an incremental boost¡ªit was a leap. Each new ring added layers of mana compression, refining his reserves, sharpening his control.


    Turning toward the cave''s entrance, Riven strode forward, his boots crunching against scorched stone. The volcanic air outside still hummed with fire mana, thick and oppressive, but compared to the divine pressure he had just endured, it was nothing.


    Nyx was waiting near the entrance, her arms crossed, her sharp gaze flicking to him the moment he emerged. She scanned him, her expression unreadable, but he caught the subtle way her eyes narrowed¡ªtaking in the faint flickers of golden energy still clashing with the abyss inside him.


    "You''re still radiating traces of divine mana," she noted, voice even.


    Riven smirked. "Can''t get rid of it that easily." He flexed his fingers, letting a tendril of abyssal fire coil around his hand, watching as the last traces of golden light faded into the darkness. "But it doesn''t matter. It''s mine now."


    Nyx exhaled through her nose, shaking her head. "You really went through with it, huh?"


    "I did," he confirmed.


    She studied him for a long moment, then sighed. "I won''t pretend to understand how you''re still standing, but I assume this means you''re done here?"


    Riven tilted his head slightly, feeling the weight of power thrumming in his core, his mana heart pulsing with the promise of ascension. "Yes. It''s finally time to climb the ranks¡ªthen we can leave this wretched place for good."


    "Finally," Nyx drawled, her lips curling into a wicked grin. "Because I''m tired of this damned academy, and I miss Vera''s mead more than I care to admit. First stop when we get home."


    Riven chuckled, shaking his head as they began making their way toward the Second-Year Marketplace. But beneath the amusement, there was something else¡ªa quiet, lingering relief at Nyx''s words.


    Home.


    A place where he wasn''t watched, where he didn''t have to constantly play a role. A place where they were waiting for him¡ªhis people, his kingdom.


    A place where he could finally stop pretending.


    His gaze darkened, anticipation flickering in his blue eyes as the towering structure of the Power Chart came into view.


    Let''s make these fights quick.

 Chapter 106 - 106: The Power Chart Part 1

    The Training Grounds loomed ahead, humming with mana and the crackling energy of ongoing duels. As Riven and Nyx stepped through the bustling crowd, students instinctively moved aside, their gazes lingering.


    They had heard the rumors. They had seen his name rise before.


    And now, he was back.


    The air buzzed with whispered conversations. Some voices were filled with eager anticipation, while others were edged with uncertainty. Riven''s return from the mana-dense island had not escaped attention. Those around him could almost feel the surge of power radiating from him, a stark reminder of how much stronger he had become since his last appearance.


    The Power Chart Monolith stood like an unshakable pillar of authority, its glowing inscriptions shifting as ranks were updated in real time. Students had gathered around it, observing challenges and victories unfold. But when Riven approached, all eyes snapped to him.


    Nyx''s smirk widened. "They''re already nervous."


    Riven ignored them, stepping forward. His name still sat at Rank 159, exactly where he had left it. That wouldn''t last long.


    He raised his hand and pressed it against the smooth obsidian surface.


    The Monolith pulsed, responding to his mana. The rankings ahead of him shimmered, revealing the students within his challenge range.


    Riven''s eyes scanned the names. He wasn''t looking for an easy fight¡ªhe was looking for the fastest path upward.


    And then he saw it.


    Eryk Vale (Rank 139)


    A quiet ripple went through the crowd.


    Someone behind him let out a low whistle. "Eryk? Not a bad choice. He''s a duelist¡ªfast, lightning-based magic, not one to underestimate."


    Riven smirked. Perfect.


    Without hesitation, he strode toward the Elder overseeing the duels and placed the required mana beast cores on the stone pedestal, offering them without a word as tribute to summon Eryk.


    The stone pedestal drank in the mana beast cores with a low, resonant hum, their glow flickering out one by one as the Elder''s hand swept over them. A pulse of magic rippled through the air as the challenge was accepted, the Monolith flaring with a new inscription.


    [Challenge Issued: Riven Drakar vs. Eryk Vale]


    The crowd stirred.


    Within moments, the center ring of the dueling grounds shimmered, the barriers activating¡ªtransparent walls of reinforced mana sealing off the arena. Energy arced through the air, the tension growing as onlookers gathered along the perimeter, whispers surging like wind through tall grass.


    "He''s really doing it."


    "Isn''t Eryk a lightning mage? One of the faster duelists?"


    "I thought Riven vanished after the Voss fight¡ªwhat the hell has he been doing since then?"


    Riven tuned them out.


    He stepped into the ring, the tiles beneath his boots humming in response to the pressure radiating from his form. His movements were calm, measured, deliberate¡ªeach step silent but final, like the toll of a funeral bell.


    Across from him, a portal of pale blue mana shimmered to life. From it stepped Eryk Vale, lightning already crackling along his arms. His lean form was draped in the standard Second-Year dueling robes, but his mana flared with a sharp, electric bite. His silver hair was tousled by the static aura surrounding him, and his blue eyes locked onto Riven immediately.


    "I was hoping to get through today without a duel," Eryk muttered, sparks crackling between his fingers as he flexed his hands. "But I guess you''re here to put on another performance."


    Riven tilted his head. "You''re in my way. That''s all."


    Eryk''s lips curled into a grin, but there was tension in his shoulders. "Then try to move me."


    The Elder raised a hand between them, mana forming a luminous sigil in the air.


    "Duel begins on my mark."


    A long silence stretched. S~ea??h the N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Then¡ª


    "Begin!"


    Eryk vanished in a crackle of lightning.


    The air exploded with force as he reappeared beside Riven, his hand outstretched, a lance of electricity spearing toward Riven''s chest.


    Fast.


    But not fast enough.


    Riven didn''t move¡ªnot in any way the eye could follow. One moment he stood still, and the next, his form blurred with heat distortion, vanishing in a ripple of scorched air. He reappeared behind Eryk in an instant, abyssal fire already coiling around his arm like a living serpent.


    He struck.


    Eryk spun at the last second, a lightning barrier flaring to life, absorbing part of the impact¡ªbut not all of it. The flames licked across his shoulder, searing fabric and skin, drawing a sharp hiss from his lips.


    "Not bad," Eryk muttered, skidding back, electricity bursting from his heels to propel him across the ring.


    Not enough.


    Riven surged forward, Crimson Mirage activating. His afterimages split around him in chaotic formation, dozens of silhouettes racing forward at once.


    Eryk''s eyes narrowed. He launched arcs of lightning in every direction, cutting through the illusions one by one¡ªbut Riven was already above him, descending with abyssal flames igniting along his blade.


    Eryk raised both hands and shouted¡ª"Arc Cage!"


    Bolts of lightning surged into a dome around him, a cage of raw power meant to trap and paralyze.


    But Riven didn''t hesitate.


    His blade plunged into the lightning, his abyssal mana roaring to life.


    And the dome began to wither.


    The golden arcs dimmed, sparks bleeding into shadows as Riven''s flames devoured the energy¡ªnot resisted it, not dispelled it¡ªbut consumed it, twisted it into something darker. Something his own.


    Eryk''s eyes widened. "You¡ªwhat the hell are you?"


    Riven''s expression didn''t change. "A warning."


    He drove the blade down, shattering the dome.


    Eryk attempted to dodge, lightning exploding at his feet, but Riven''s Scorching Chains burst from the shadows beneath him, wrapping around his ankle. The lightning surged to break them¡ªbut this time, the abyss didn''t yield.


    It fed.


    Eryk was yanked downward.


    And then Riven was there¡ªblade at his throat, abyssal fire flickering along the edge like the hiss of a dying god.


    The Elder raised a hand. "Enough!"


    The mana barriers dropped.


    Silence.


    Then the Monolith flared.


    [Rank 139 Achieved ¨C Riven Drakar]


    Gasps. Murmurs. And one voice, stunned and trembling.


    "He consumed the lightning¡­"


    Eryk remained on one knee, his chest heaving, the residual sparks of lightning flickering weakly around his form. His eyes never left Riven¡ªnot in fear, but in deep, unsettled calculation.


    "I''ve heard rumors about your flames," he said slowly, voice tight. "They said it wasn''t fire at all¡­ that it eats mana. I thought it was just exaggeration."


    Riven tilted his head slightly, the corner of his mouth tugging upward.


    "They''re just flames," Riven said casually, his tone light with a hint of amusement. He shrugged, as if there was nothing more to explain.


    Eryk''s gaze lingered on him, uncertain, eyes narrowing slightly. But he didn''t argue. Not here. Not after what he''d just seen. Whatever Riven truly was¡ªhe wasn''t someone to test twice.


    The crowd stayed hushed, the lingering tension from the duel clinging to the air like static. Even the Elder seemed momentarily distracted, his eyes following Riven with an almost contemplative stillness¡ªwatchful, wary.


    The Monolith pulsed softly behind him, the glow beside his name now shifted.


    Rank 139.


    Another step forward. Another piece removed from the board.


    The moment the ranking locked into place, a low murmur spread through the crowd like a slow-burning fire. The duel was over, but the atmosphere didn''t ease. If anything, it grew heavier¡ªwarier.


    Nyx stepped up beside Riven, her eyes scanning the Monolith as it glowed with his new rank. "That''s one down." she said quietly, just for him.


    Riven didn''t answer right away. His gaze lingered on the Monolith, on the rows of names ahead of him, each a step between where he stood now and the top. Rank 1. Cassiel. The final obstacle.


    Riven''s hand lifted again, pressing against the obsidian surface. The Monolith responded at once, pulsing as it accepted his mana signature. The available names shifted again, adjusting to his new position.


    This time, he didn''t hesitate.


    Kalen Morwyn ¡ª Rank 119


    A ripple passed through the onlookers.


    "Kalen?" someone said behind him. "That guy''s brutal. Full-body reinforcement, earth and metal alignment. Doesn''t go down easy."


    "Not a good matchup against someone like Riven," another whispered. "Flames or not, metal beats fire."


    "Not his fire," a third voice cut in. "Didn''t you see what happened to Eryk''s lightning?"


    Riven tuned them all out.


    The Elder gave a subtle nod as he accepted the next offering of mana beast cores. With a flick of his wrist, he summoned the next challenger.


    Kalen appeared in the dueling ring moments later¡ªtall, broad-shouldered, his dark copper hair swept back, arms already coated in jagged bands of hardened earth. His eyes narrowed as he took in Riven, sizing him up.


    "I''ve seen you clawing your way up the rankings," Kalen said, his voice low and rough, like stone grinding against stone. "But you''re getting ahead of yourself. That confidence of yours? It''s about to meet reality. Some of us aren''t so easy to burn through."


    Riven didn''t flinch at Kalen''s words.


    He simply took a step forward, the floor beneath him subtly blackening as heat rippled outward from his presence. The faint hiss of abyssal flame licking the edge of his fingers was enough to make a few spectators step back.


    The Elder didn''t bother repeating the rules. The crowd knew the drill. So did they.


    "Begin!"


    Kalen wasted no time.


    Stone surged up around his feet as he lunged, fists sheathed in iron-hard mana. His magic wasn''t flashy¡ªit didn''t need to be. His style was brute efficiency, grounded and overwhelming. One hit could shatter ribs. Two could end a fight.


    Riven met him head-on.


    Flames burst across the dueling platform, washing over the floor as Riven''s aura flared. Their clash sent a gust of wind outward, sending dust spiraling and mana curling in every direction.


    Kalen''s fist drove forward, aimed straight for Riven''s chest¡ªbut Riven dipped beneath it, twisting sideways, his body slipping just outside the arc of the strike.


    Abyssal fire ignited along his palm. He slammed it into Kalen''s ribs.


    The metal reinforcement groaned beneath the impact. Not shattered. But strained. The heat and darkness began to spread¡ªeating into the stone.


    Kalen growled and countered with a sweeping elbow, catching Riven in the side and sending him skidding back a few paces.


    "You''re fast," Kalen admitted, already advancing again. "But fire doesn''t crush stone."


    "No," Riven said calmly, catching his breath as the flames coiled tighter around his arms. "But my fire doesn''t burn..."


    Kalen raised a brow¡ªjust before a line of black flame scorched the earth between them.


    "It devours."


    He launched forward again, faster now. Crimson Mirage burst to life, scattering afterimages across the platform. Kalen struck one¡ªthen two¡ªbefore a third crumbled into flames.


    The real Riven darted in from the right, his blade sweeping low.


    This time, Kalen blocked it fully. His arms crossed in front of his chest, mana reinforcing the stone barrier.


    But Riven wasn''t aiming to break the shield.


    He was aiming to corrode it.


    The black fire didn''t flash. It sunk in. It ate. Kalen''s arms flexed as he tried to shake it off¡ªbut the stone had begun to pit and crumble.


    He took a step back. Then another.


    But Riven pressed forward.


    He unleashed a wave of abyssal fire, low and wide¡ªforcing Kalen to jump, to disengage. It bought Riven time. Enough to close the distance once more.


    Their next clash was brutal.


    Fist met flame, stone met darkness. The dueling ring rattled as shockwaves cracked through the barrier. Kalen gritted his teeth, but Riven''s strikes didn''t relent. Each one was perfectly placed, precise¡ªaimed not to overpower, but to chip, to peel, to rot through Kalen''s reinforced body, until¡ª


    With a sudden burst of force, Riven planted a Scorching Chain into the ground.


    It erupted at Kalen''s feet, wrapping his legs before he could jump away.


    The moment of stillness was all Riven needed.


    He crossed the distance in a blur, his blade igniting with concentrated flame.


    And then he struck¡ªone clean slash across Kalen''s chestplate.


    It didn''t explode.


    It simply vanished, eaten through completely by a narrow, black-hot line of abyssal fire.


    Kalen froze. The stone and iron on his body began to crack.


    He stumbled, the mana unraveling from his limbs like dust blown from old bones.


    Riven didn''t waste the moment.


    With a sharp exhale, he stepped in and drove his heel into Kalen''s chest with a brutal, precise kick. The impact cracked through the air like thunder.


    Kalen''s body was sent hurtling backward, slamming into the mana barrier with a dull, resounding boom. The force rattled the wards, drawing a few startled gasps from the crowd.


    He slid down the glowing wall, landing hard on the tiles¡ªdazed, unmoving.


    The Elder raised a hand.


    "Enough!"


    The barrier shimmered and dropped.


    And then the Monolith flared.


    [Rank 119 Achieved ¨C Riven Drakar]


    The crowd erupted¡ªthis time not in noise, but with motion. Dozens of heads turned, voices hushed and frantic. Not a single student around the arena looked away.


    Nyx, arms crossed behind the ring, let out a soft breath.


    Riven stood over Kalen''s kneeling form, eyes cold, the edges of his blade still glowing with flickering heat. He said nothing. Made no move to taunt or gloat.


    There was no need.


    The silence spoke for him.


    He turned without a word, already stepping toward the Monolith once more.


    It was time to find his next opponent.

 Chapter 107 - 107: The Power Chart Part 2

    The Monolith''s glow hadn''t even dimmed before Riven''s hand was already reaching for it again.


    Still warm. Still pulsing with energy.


    He placed his palm flat against the obsidian surface, letting his mana thread through it once more. The rankings shifted. New names appeared. New targets.


    But for a brief moment¡ªhe didn''t move.


    He simply stood there, listening to the quiet crackle of residual flame still flickering around him. Listening to the hushed murmurs in the crowd behind him. Feeling the quiet churn of power within his chest.


    This strength¡­ it was different now.


    The weight of his mana heart, the way it flowed sharper, denser, hungrier¡ªit wasn''t the same as it had been a month ago. Not even close.


    His fingers curled slowly against the Monolith.


    He could feel it¡ªevery bit of progress forged in the shadows of the mana-dense island, every movement refined in the heat of simulated combat. Two weeks spent locked in relentless battle against the construct of Cassiel. Again and again. Blinding speed. Crushing blows. The pressure of divinity bearing down on him.


    Compared to that?


    These duels weren''t even making Riven break a sweat.


    The crowd didn''t know the truth. They couldn''t.


    All they saw was the surface¡ªhis rise through the ranks, the black flames, the effortless victories.


    But Riven knew what it had cost.


    He hadn''t just trained.


    He''d endured.


    He''d died a hundred different ways inside that simulation, only to rise again each time¡ªstronger, faster, sharper. Every loss had carved away weakness. Every defeat had forged control.


    He''d been broken and reforged by the image of a paladin who fought like a force of nature¡ªcleaving mountains, standing unshaken in the heart of storms.


    And now?


    His opponents moved like beginners, their strikes telegraphed, their mana thin and slow. Like children pretending at war.


    He dragged in a quiet breath, letting it settle deep into his lungs before exhaling slowly. The weight of divine pressure no longer pressed against him, but the memory of it did¡ªetched into muscle, nerve, and bone. It was in the way he moved. The way he struck. The way he didn''t hesitate.


    Behind him, Nyx watched in silence, arms folded as the murmurs grew thicker. She said nothing¡ªbut he didn''t need her to. She could feel it too. What he''d become.


    What he was still becoming.


    He focused on the Monolith again, and this time, his voice was calm¡ªquiet, but certain.


    "Next."


    The list shimmered once more, cycling rapidly as it adjusted to his new rank.


    Zain Halcor ¡ª Rank 99


    Riven''s eyes narrowed.


    "A wind-aligned duelist," someone near the edge of the crowd muttered, just loud enough to be heard. "Fast, cocky. Loves flashy footwork and keeping constant pressure."


    "No way¡­ he''s actually aiming for the top 100?" another voice said, half in awe, half in disbelief.


    The murmurs swelled instantly, rippling through the growing sea of students. More were arriving by the second, drawn to the Monolith, to the duels, to the rising name now etched in glowing script.


    The Elder called for silence, already accepting the next set of mana beast cores Riven placed on the pedestal. His hands moved with efficiency, the ritual automatic by now¡ªhe, too, had felt the shift. The pressure coming off Riven wasn''t that of a normal Second-Year anymore.


    It was something else.


    The summoning circle flared once again. A gust of wind kicked up around the dueling platform as the mana took shape.


    Zain Halcor stepped through the portal with the easy swagger of someone who had never once tasted real defeat. His robe flared at his ankles, enchanted threads rippling from the subtle winds circling his body. His short blonde hair was swept back, and he wore a smirk that practically dripped with confidence.


    "Well," Zain said, cracking his knuckles, "I thought I''d get someone interesting today, but I didn''t expect the ''black flame prodigy'' himself."


    Riven didn''t respond. He stepped into the ring without fanfare, his aura still simmering low¡ªbut not hidden. Not anymore.


    Zain clicked his tongue. "Not much of a talker, huh? No worries. I''ll keep the crowd entertained for both of us."


    Wind coiled at his heels as he moved toward the center. The crowd leaned in, tension humming across the arena.


    The Elder''s voice cut the air. "Duel begins on my mark."


    A heartbeat passed.


    "Begin!"


    Zain vanished.


    No flare of mana, no loud charge¡ªjust the hiss of displaced air as wind folded around him. He moved like a blur, a streak of pressure darting around Riven''s left side. His blade¡ªa narrow rapier etched with flight runes¡ªlashed out in a gleaming arc, meant to carve clean across Riven''s ribs.


    But Riven was already gone.


    Heat shimmered in his place.


    Zain''s blade passed through empty air¡ªand then the true Riven stepped forward from behind, his body coiled like a spring, flame blooming along his arm.


    Zain twisted just in time to deflect the strike, but the heat scorched his outer robe, searing across the cloth like ink bleeding into paper.


    "Fast," Zain said under his breath. "Faster than I expected."


    Riven said nothing. He advanced again, steady, methodical¡ªhis movements too calm for a battlefield.


    Zain launched back, putting distance between them, then shot forward again¡ªzigzagging in rapid bursts, each movement marked by miniature wind pulses that kicked up dust and scattered debris.


    He struck again and again¡ªhigh, low, diagonal. But each time, Riven was already a step ahead. Dodging. Redirecting. His body flowed like liquid fire, too refined, too sharp.


    And with each exchange, the pressure mounted.


    Zain began to sweat. His footwork, once fluid and showy, turned frantic.


    "This isn''t right," he muttered, backing away, chest rising and falling. "You''re not supposed to be this fast."


    "Speed''s nice," Riven said quietly, his tone almost thoughtful as he watched Zain struggle to rise. Black flame coiled slowly along the edge of his blade, its hiss barely audible over the crowd''s hush. "But maybe you should''ve learned how to fight too."


    He took a step forward, gaze steady.


    "Then this might''ve lasted longer."


    He dashed forward, Crimson Mirage scattering across the ring. Zain struck two illusions down before he realized the real Riven wasn''t behind him¡ªbut above.


    The downward strike came fast and final.


    Zain raised his rapier to block¡ªbut the abyssal fire wrapped around it, devouring the wind enchantments in a breath. His blade blackened, the metal warping and screaming as it was eaten through.


    The next moment, Riven''s foot slammed into his chest. S§×ar?h the n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The wind mage went airborne¡ªlaunched back across the ring. He hit the barrier hard enough to rattle the enchantments, then dropped to one knee, coughing, gasping.


    The Elder raised his hand.


    "Enough!"


    The barriers faded. The Monolith flared.


    [Rank 99 Achieved ¨C Riven Drakar]


    Silence.


    Then chaos.


    The crowd erupted¡ªnot just in murmurs now, but in rising voices, in movement, in awe. Students shoved closer, trying to see the one who had broken into the top 100 so effortlessly.


    Riven sheathed his blade with a slow, fluid motion and turned away from Zain without a word. The flames on his arm extinguished with a breath.


    Nyx was already waiting near the edge of the arena, watching the shifting rankings.


    She didn''t need to say anything.


    Neither did he.


    But as Riven approached the Monolith once more, the only thought running through his mind was simple.


    One step closer.


    The crowd had thickened, students pushing closer to the edges of the ring, voices rising in waves of anticipation and disbelief. Riven stood at the center of it all, unmoved, his presence commanding even in silence.


    Then, a shift in the atmosphere.


    From the far side of the Training Grounds, two more figures approached¡ªrecognized instantly by the way the crowd parted around them.


    Cole Drakar strode with deliberate confidence, his expression twisted in something between amusement and disdain. His red cloak swept behind him, the Drakar crest gleaming across his shoulder. Beside him, Ember moved with far less arrogance, her crimson curls catching the sunlight as her eyes locked onto Riven.


    Of course they came.


    "Don''t do something you''ll regret, Riven," Ember called, her voice low enough for most to miss¡ªbut not him. There was no venom in it. Just worry. "You''ve already made a point. If you lose now¡­"


    "You''ll humiliate yourself," Cole finished, stepping forward with a smirk. "And more importantly, you''ll drag the Drakar name down with you. Again."


    "No, that''s not what I meant¡ª" Ember began quickly, her voice laced with urgency.


    "Today''s the last day to decide," Riven said quietly, his gaze cutting sideways toward Ember.


    She froze. The meaning behind his words was clear¡ªhe hadn''t forgotten what he told her the other day. She had a choice: stand beside him, and sever her ties to the Drakar family¡­ or stay behind, and be left behind.


    "Riven¡­" Ember''s voice trembled as her face lost its color.


    Cole scoffed, glancing between the two of them. "What the hell is he talking about?"


    Riven didn''t answer. He turned back toward the Monolith, eyes narrowing as the names began to shift once more.


    Who''s next?

 Chapter 108 - 108: The Power Chart Part 3

    The Monolith pulsed again, its surface shimmering with new names¡ªnew obstacles.


    Rank 79.


    Korin Dareth.


    Riven''s eyes narrowed as the name settled into place, glowing with a faint violet hue.


    "Korin?" someone echoed from the crowd. "He''s a barrier mage, right?"


    "Yeah," another replied. "Known for being a pain to fight. Dual-core formation¡ªbarrier and force magic. Defensive first, but his counterstrikes are brutal."


    Riven didn''t blink.


    The higher he climbed, the more the names meant something. These weren''t just placeholders or inflated egos wrapped in mediocre mana control. These were contenders¡ªsharpened through conflict, hardened by time.


    But still not Cassiel.


    He stepped forward once more, his presence cutting through the thickened air like a drawn blade. The Elder looked up from the pedestal, nodded, and accepted the next offering of cores without a word. The ritual had grown silent now¡ªefficient, seamless. Riven gave no grand announcements, and the Elder didn''t waste breath repeating what everyone already knew.


    A fresh summoning circle lit the floor.


    The barrier shimmered into place.


    Korin appeared in a slow swirl of purple light, his robes long and layered with enchantment glyphs, his forearms covered in metallic cuffs brimming with condensed runes. He wasn''t flashy. He wasn''t loud. But the moment his boots touched the dueling tiles, a pressure settled across the ring.


    Not crushing¡ªbut solid. Like standing at the foot of a mountain.


    Korin adjusted his sleeves and met Riven''s gaze across the arena. "You''re the one with the black fire, right?" His voice was calm, even. Not mocking. Just observant.


    Riven didn''t answer. He stepped into the ring with the same unwavering gait, flames dancing faintly along his arm¡ªnot fully lit, not fully hidden.


    "I figured." Korin rolled his shoulders. "I''ve been watching your fights. The others couldn''t slow you down¡­ I wonder if I can."


    The Elder raised his hand.


    "Begin."


    Korin didn''t move.


    Not at first.


    Instead, dozens of thin, translucent glyphs bloomed around him¡ªbarriers stacked upon barriers, forming a rotating lattice of mana that pulsed with quiet strength. Lines of force wove between them, turning defense into offense.


    Riven moved forward, unbothered.


    Flames rolled across his skin in slow, deliberate waves, coiling like a predator at rest.


    He threw the first strike¡ªa horizontal arc of fire meant to test range.


    The flame slammed into the outermost barrier and rippled harmlessly across its surface.


    No surprise.


    Korin flicked his fingers, and the barrier collapsed inward like a hinge, redirecting the kinetic force. A pulse of compressed mana shot toward Riven like a spear.


    He leaned sideways, letting it pass. It exploded behind him in a sharp burst of sound and light.


    Korin lifted one hand and spoke under his breath. A second layer of barriers solidified around him¡ªdenser this time, visibly reinforced with runes of binding and mana compression.


    "You can''t cut what you can''t reach," Korin said calmly.


    Riven exhaled once.


    Then surged forward.


    Flames burst in his wake as his foot hit the tile. His blade ignited mid-stride, abyssal fire roaring to life with a hiss that sent nearby students flinching back.


    He struck the barrier head-on.


    The impact rang like iron on glass.


    And held.


    But Riven didn''t retreat.


    Instead, his hand slid across the surface, and the flames¡ªhis flames¡ªspilled over it like oil over water. They didn''t explode. They sank.


    The barrier began to flicker.


    Korin''s brow furrowed, and he pushed mana into the runes faster, drawing a third and fourth shield layer around him like armor.


    Riven''s expression remained unchanged.


    A second slash. Then a third. Then another.


    Each strike not with brute force¡ªbut with intention. Precision. The black fire didn''t need to shatter¡ªit needed time. Time to eat.


    And it was eating.


    The outer shields began to crumble. Slowly. Piece by piece.


    Korin gritted his teeth and threw his hand out¡ªprojecting a force pulse meant to knock Riven back.


    Riven slid away, only to reappear behind the ripple, charging low and fast, heat blurring his outline.


    He struck again.


    This time, the barrier cracked.


    A single fracture arced through it like lightning.


    Korin scowled. "You''re more persistent than I thought."


    Riven answered with a burst of flame.


    Crimson Mirage.


    Afterimages exploded across the field.


    Korin turned, trying to track them¡ªbarriers shifting in all directions, but not fast enough.


    Riven came from above.


    He landed a spinning heel-kick against the final barrier, his foot wreathed in fire.


    It shattered.


    And Korin stumbled.


    The black flame was already climbing his coat.


    He tried to cast¡ªtried to summon another glyph¡ªbut Riven was there.


    One clean slash across the front of his robes. No wound. Just heat.


    Too much heat.


    Korin dropped to one knee, panting, the runes on his arms beginning to overload.


    "Enough," the Elder called.


    The barrier fell.


    [Rank 79 Achieved ¨C Riven Drakar]


    Gasps followed¡ªlouder this time. Harsher. As if some had truly believed he would be stopped here.


    He hadn''t.


    Riven turned without a word and walked to the edge of the ring, flames dying down to flickering embers.


    Nyx met him with a faint tilt of her head. "He almost made you work for it."


    Riven didn''t smile. "Almost."


    The Monolith still glowed beside them. Still warm. Still waiting.


    Another name waited behind it.


    Another step closer to Cassiel.


    Another step closer to going home.


    Riven rested his palm against the Monolith once more. Its glow pulsed like a steady heartbeat¡ªrhythmic, measured, unrelenting.


    He felt the fatigue settle faintly into his limbs, not enough to slow him, but enough to remind him: this climb wasn''t without cost. Korin had lasted longer than the others. His magic wasn''t built for offense, but his discipline, his structure¡ªit had tested Riven''s control.


    Not his strength.


    But his patience.


    He welcomed the pressure. The rising resistance. It meant he was getting closer.


    The Monolith shimmered, reacting to his mana signature. New names spun across the surface, each one glowing brighter, heavier with weight.


    Behind him, the crowd pressed closer, their murmurs rising in pitch. Students whispered names now with reverence, some with fear. Others watched in silence, their eyes wide as they stared at the boy who had once been little more than a footnote¡ªnow a name carving its way toward the top.


    They didn''t understand.


    He wasn''t here to impress them.


    He was here to finish something.


    Nyx moved at his side, her presence quiet but steady. She hadn''t spoken again since Korin''s defeat, but her eyes hadn''t left Riven once. She didn''t need to ask what was next.


    She already knew.


    Riven''s gaze slid across the next row of names. His fingers curled slightly against the Monolith''s surface as one flickering rank solidified before him.


    Rank 59 ¨C Lira Vonn.


    No murmurs this time.


    Only silence.


    Nyx tilted her head. "That one might be interesting."


    Riven didn''t reply. He was already walking toward the Elder. Another duel. Another test. Another name to burn away.


    The Elder didn''t even need a prompt this time. The moment Riven handed over the next cluster of mana beast cores, the old man was already moving¡ªpreparing the circle, summoning the next opponent, marking the rank.


    The crowd had fallen into a strange rhythm now. Not cheers. Not jeers. Just anticipation. A collective hush clung to the dueling grounds like fog, thicker with each victory, every rank shattered underfoot.


    [Challenge Issued: Riven Drakar vs. Lira Vonn ¨C Rank 59]


    The Monolith flared.


    Riven stepped into the ring.


    Lira Vonn arrived in a burst of violet light, her silhouette rising smoothly from the arcane glyphs. She was tall, statuesque, with sharp cheekbones and braided silver hair that swung like a blade behind her.


    But what drew attention most were the orbs floating behind her shoulders. Six of them¡ªeach a polished crystal core bound in mana rings, gently orbiting her like planets around a sun.


    A spellcaster. Mid-to-long range, control specialist. Her type of fight wasn''t about brute power¡ªit was about controlling the battlefield.


    "You''ve been busy," Lira said as she folded her arms, voice calm but cold. "But it''s different up here. You don''t just burn your way through the top sixty."


    Riven didn''t answer.


    She raised a hand.


    The six crystals lit up instantly, mana flowing through each in a different hue¡ªwind, ice, lightning, force, water, and air. They shifted in rhythm, rotating around her in a constantly changing formation. A living array of elemental precision.


    The Elder gave a nod.


    "Begin."


    No hesitation.


    Lira snapped her fingers. Two of the orbs surged outward¡ªone of wind, one of arc lightning. The wind orb launched first, slicing through the air like a compressed disc, while the arc orb flared beside it, crackling with bright static energy.


    Riven didn''t dodge.


    He stepped forward.


    The wind disk hit¡ªbut melted on contact, swallowed in black fire that hissed across Riven''s shoulders. The arc blast followed a heartbeat later and was consumed just the same, drawn into the curling abyssal heat leaking from beneath his cloak.


    Lira narrowed her eyes.


    Four more orbs activated.


    She formed a layered storm of pressure¡ªice lancing toward his feet, a pulse of force from the right, a blade of condensed water from the left, lightning raining down from above in sharp bursts.


    It was clean. Coordinated. Beautifully lethal.


    And utterly ineffective.


    Riven''s flame surged as he advanced, heat blooming across the ring.


    He ducked beneath the force blast, sidestepped the water blade, let the lightning strike¡ªonly for it to vanish into his aura. His body moved like fire incarnate, his steps fluid, calculated, unstoppable.


    His sword ignited now¡ªblack flame coiling in full, burning with quiet hunger.


    Lira took a step back. sea??h th§× n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Fine," she murmured. "Let''s see how you handle this."


    The six orbs shot skyward, then locked into a complex formation above the platform. Lines of mana wove between them, forming a glowing lattice of control magic that pulsed with power.


    At the center: Lira.


    Her mana surged. A high-level formation designed to amplify multi-element casting and pin down faster opponents through sheer volume and precision.


    The vortex collapsed around Riven.


    The arena screamed with elemental magic¡ªwhips of water, arcs of lightning, pressure bursts, frost spikes¡ªall converging at once.


    Still, Riven didn''t retreat.


    He lifted one hand, and the dark flames beneath him exploded upward, cloaking his body in a flickering veil of void-laced flame.


    Then¡ªhe moved. Straight through the vortex, through the chaos¡ªhis form blurring as Crimson Mirage activated mid-stride, scattering afterimages in his wake like burning echoes.


    Lira''s eyes snapped between the flickering afterimages, trying to isolate the real Riven. But the heat distorted her vision, her array, her focus. The devouring pressure of his mana was warping her control, unraveling the perfect choreography of her spellwork.


    Then he was inside the formation.


    A single downward slash carved through the center orb. It shattered in a pulse of mana and collapsing elemental threads.


    Another orb burst a second later.


    Lira gasped, staggering back as the formation collapsed in on itself. She began casting a fallback array¡ªbut Riven was already there.


    His blade stopped just short of her throat¡ªso close that Lira could feel the heat radiating off the abyssal flames coiled around the edge. They didn''t roar or crackle. They whispered. A low, insidious hiss that seemed to gnaw at the very air between them.


    Lira''s chest rose and fell in uneven breaths, her arms still half-raised, trembling. What remained of her elemental array had already fizzled out into scattered trails of light behind her. Her robes were scorched at the hem. Her mana was frayed. And she knew¡ªif Riven had swung a hair further, this match wouldn''t have ended with surrender. It would''ve ended in silence.


    The Elder raised his hand, his voice firm but calm, cutting through the lingering tension.


    "Enough."


    The mana barriers lowered with a soft hum, the dueling circle dimming as the magic faded from the platform.


    And then the Monolith flared.


    [Rank 59 Achieved ¨C Riven Drakar]


    For a moment, no one spoke.


    No cheers. No gasps of awe.


    Just a sharp intake of breath that seemed to ripple across the gathered crowd like the first gust of wind before a storm.


    Then the whispers began¡ªnot filled with disbelief, but dread.


    He had broken into the top sixty now. Not with trickery. Not with luck.


    With fire that didn''t burn, but devoured. With movement that couldn''t be tracked. With silence that threatened more than any shout ever could.


    Gasps echoed across the Training Grounds¡ªbut they weren''t from surprise anymore.


    They were from fear.


    From the realization that Riven Drakar wasn''t just climbing the rankings.


    He was claiming them.

 Chapter 109 - 109: The Power Chart Part 4

    The air had shifted.


    Even the wind that once danced lazily across the Training Grounds now held still, waiting¡ªwatching.


    Riven stood at the edge of the dueling ring, his body calm but coiled with that quiet, smoldering presence. The crowd barely whispered now. No chants. No open calls. Just a thick, anxious silence broken only by the sound of his footsteps as he approached the Monolith again.


    The Monolith''s glow pulsed gently beneath Riven''s fingertips, its surface thrumming with living mana. He pressed his palm flat against the obsidian once more, letting his aura thread through the ancient stone like smoke curling into cracks. For a breathless moment, the air hung still¡ªthen the display shimmered to life.


    Another heartbeat. Another name.


    Rank 39 ¨C Dareth Sirova.


    The instant the name appeared, the tension in the crowd shifted. This wasn''t confusion or curiosity this time¡ªit was recognition. The murmurs that followed were quieter, heavier. Voices dropped to hushed tones, as if speaking too loudly might summon something dangerous.


    "Dareth''s a fire user," someone said, voice tight. "Top-ranked for a reason."


    "His flame''s not normal. It''s high-compression. Refined. Focused into piercing strikes."


    "Didn''t he take out three opponents in a single day last term?"


    Riven didn''t so much as blink. His gaze remained steady, unwavering, as he stepped forward¡ªeach stride deliberate, his robes whispering across the stone with silent finality. The mana beast cores slipped from his hand onto the pedestal, landing with a soft clink that seemed to echo louder than it should have, like the striking of a match in a room full of dry kindling.


    The Elder, seasoned and steady after overseeing countless duels, hesitated for the first time that day. His eyes flicked between the cores and Riven''s face, searching for any hint of fatigue, any sign of restraint.


    "You don''t have to rush the next challenge, Riven," he said quietly, his voice low enough that only the nearest few could hear. "There''s no shame in pacing yourself."


    But Riven had already turned away, his boots carrying him toward the center of the ring without pause, his silence as final as a sealed verdict.


    Behind him, the summoning glyph flared to life, igniting in a deep, molten red that spread across the arena floor like cracks in cooling lava. The glow painted Riven''s shadow long and sharp across the tiles as the next opponent was called forth.


    Dareth Sirova emerged from the sigil like he''d stepped out of a furnace.


    He was tall, lean, wrapped in reinforced black dueling leather scorched from use, etched with glowing embers along his sleeves and collar. His dark reddish-brown hair was tied back, and a trail of fire drifted behind his every step like an afterimage of heat.


    His eyes locked with Riven''s.


    "You''re not like the others," Dareth said, voice low and rough, like a burning coal grinding against stone. "I''ve seen the way you fight. That flame of yours¡­"


    He rolled one shoulder, fire coiling up his arm.


    "I want to test mine against it."


    The Elder raised his hand, voice firm.


    "Begin!"


    The heat exploded.


    Dareth moved like a comet unleashed, vanishing in a streak of searing flame. His foot struck the dueling tile with such force that the stone beneath him melted into molten glass, trailing in a warped, glowing arc as he closed the distance. A lance of compressed fire roared from his outstretched fist¡ªsharp, narrow, and blindingly hot¡ªhurtling straight for Riven''s chest with deadly precision.


    But this time, Riven didn''t shift to the side. He didn''t avoid it.


    He met it.


    Black fire erupted from his body, not like a blast¡ªbut like a tide, crashing forward with slow inevitability. The two flames collided mid-air with a deafening roar, crimson heat colliding against endless darkness. The shockwave rippled through the arena, slamming into the barrier walls and shaking the platform underfoot. Heat cracked across the sky above them, distorted and wild.


    For a heartbeat, the two forces held.


    Fire against fire.


    Mana against mana.


    Then Riven pushed. S§×arch* The N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The abyss surged¡ªsilent, weightless, and unrelenting¡ªand the crimson blaze was swallowed whole. Not extinguished. Not deflected. Devoured.


    Dareth grunted and leapt backward, his boots skidding across the scorched tile, streaks of flame spiraling in his wake. He barely had time to draw breath before his hands flicked into motion, fingers forming sharp, angular runes in the air, traced with liquid heat.


    "Pyroclast Surge!"


    Three lances of fire burst into existence¡ªone shot straight for Riven''s core, another descended in a searing arc from above, while the third tunneled beneath the platform and erupted beneath his feet in a gout of flame.


    Riven moved¡ªjust enough.


    Crimson Mirage triggered in an instant, scattering burning silhouettes across the arena like sparks from a shattered forge.


    But Dareth didn''t hesitate.


    "I knew you''d do that," he muttered, slamming his palms together.


    The platform exploded.


    A dome of fire bloomed outward, engulfing the ring in a violent eruption that obliterated the illusions in one sweeping blaze. The crowd cried out as the barrier shuddered from the force.


    But the real Riven wasn''t there.


    He came in low, gliding beneath the burning arc like a shadow wrapped in flame. Abyssal fire coated his limbs, smoke coiling in his wake as he rose in a sharp, fluid motion, sword arcing up in a clean, vicious swing.


    Dareth reacted fast, his own blade¡ªforged in flame and runes¡ªflashing to meet Riven''s strike. The two weapons collided in a thunderous crash of heat and steel, sparks showering in all directions.


    But something was wrong.


    Dareth''s fire sizzled.


    Riven''s devoured.


    The crimson flames clinging to Dareth''s blade recoiled as if in pain. Then, slowly, they began to peel away¡ªunraveling like dying cloth, drawn toward the abyssal heat pulsing along Riven''s sword like a hunger that refused to be denied.


    Dareth''s eyes widened. He twisted his body to retreat, his coat catching fire as he spun free. "What the hell is your flame?!"


    Riven stepped forward, black embers curling along his shoulders, rising like ash from a dying world. "The end of yours."


    They clashed again, harder this time. Sparks scattered across the ring, flame whirled like torn silk, and mana struck mana in wild bursts. Dareth fought with discipline¡ªhis movements crisp, trained, refined. Every strike was backed by years of dedication, a fire honed through pressure and repetition.


    But Riven''s wasn''t honed.


    It was forged in the Abyss.


    Each time they crossed blades, Riven took more than he gave¡ªstealing heat, eating away at the core of Dareth''s fire, burning through it like it had no right to exist beside his own.


    Dareth''s movements began to slow.


    Desperation flickered in his eyes.


    And then he roared, summoning everything he had left in one final, blazing breath. His blade flared bright red, too bright, almost white-hot, as runes along the metal shimmered violently.


    "Inferno Spiral!"


    A cyclone of flame burst from the earth beneath Riven, spiraling upward like a tower of sunfire, aiming to incinerate anything caught within.


    The crowd gasped.


    For a moment, nothing could be seen but flame.


    And then¡ªsomething shifted.


    The center of the cyclone twisted.


    Not outward. But inward.


    The fire didn''t explode. It collapsed. Pulled in on itself like a dying star, folding under the pressure of something deeper, older¡ªhungrier. The abyss yawned open in the center of the storm, and all that fire, all that rage, was swallowed whole.


    The flame unraveled into dust.


    Dareth staggered back, his limbs shaking. His blade was gone. His mana was fractured. And the heat¡ªthe familiar heat of his fire¡ªwas gone.


    All that remained was cold ash and the pressure of something darker.


    Riven stepped forward, slow and silent. His sword, still burning with black heat, trailed faint scorch marks along the floor. When he reached Dareth, he didn''t hesitate. He raised the blade, its tip hovering a breath from the older student''s throat.


    No quip. No cruelty. Just control.


    Finality.


    The Elder raised his hand, voice cutting cleanly through the stunned silence.


    "Enough!"


    The barrier walls flickered and fell. The summoning glyph dimmed.


    And behind them, the Monolith flared to life once more.


    [Rank 39 Achieved ¨C Riven Drakar]


    Silence swallowed the arena.


    Then a single ripple of sound¡ªbarely a breath¡ªspread through the crowd like a tremor. Not awe. Not applause.


    Unease.


    The fire mages in the audience, once murmuring with pride or rivalry, stood rigid now. Quiet. Pale. Because they had seen the way fire was supposed to move¡ªwild, radiant, triumphant.


    But Riven''s fire didn''t shine.


    It consumed.


    It took and gave nothing back.


    Nyx stood at the edge of the ring, arms crossed, her eyes fixed not on Riven¡ªbut on the blackened scorch marks he left behind.


    "That one was strong," she said, voice low, contemplative.


    Riven gave a single nod, his breathing calm. "He was."


    And behind him, the Monolith pulsed¡ªits surface etched with shifting light, alive with power that refused to settle.


    It hadn''t dimmed.


    It hadn''t cooled.


    The obsidian stone radiated a low, steady warmth, like coals buried deep in the heart of a furnace. It wasn''t just recording his victories.


    It was demanding more.


    Still warm.


    Still pulsing.


    Still hungry.

 Chapter 110 - 110: The Power Charts Part 5

    The silence after Dareth''s defeat lingered longer than usual, clinging to the Training Grounds like mist that refused to lift. Riven remained still, his hand resting against the hilt of his sword, the echo of consumed fire still whispering faintly across the scorched tiles.


    But even that quiet was soon broken.


    A subtle shift passed through the crowd¡ªnot in sound, but in presence. Robes rustled as figures arrived at the edge of the field, unnoticed at first, then acknowledged with widening eyes and bowed heads.


    The Elders had come.


    A procession of masters, each veiled in subtle auras of power, stepped up to the elevated viewing platform¡ªdrawn not by invitation, but by necessity. Among them stood Archmage Elara, her purple robes billowing softly as she surveyed the ring. Her expression was unreadable, though her eyes never left Riven.


    She wasn''t the only one watching now.


    The Monolith pulsed once more. Riven stepped towards it, ignoring the weight of the stares. He pressed his palm to the obsidian again, feeling the familiar surge of mana curl up his arm like living smoke.


    The glow brightened.


    Then shifted.


    Rank 19 ¨C Kael Aren.


    Another ripple passed through the crowd.


    "Kael¡­? Isn''t he¡ª?"


    "The Sea-Touched. A high-form water user. They say he trained with coastal mages from beyond the Academy''s borders."


    "I''ve never seen anyone pierce his defense. Ever."


    A sharp inhale. "That''s a terrible matchup. Fire against water?"


    "Not his fire," someone whispered.


    The summoning pedestal accepted the beast cores with a hum. The Elder didn''t speak. He merely cast a glance towards the gathering Elders before turning to prepare the arena.


    And then¡ªthe summoning glyph flared.


    But it wasn''t red this time.


    It was blue.


    A deep, oceanic hue that shimmered with depth and motion. Water spiraled upward from the circle, forming into the silhouette of a tall, dark-haired boy clad in robes stitched with azure runes. He moved like the tide¡ªsmooth, graceful, impossibly fluid.


    Kael Aren.


    His presence washed over the arena like the cold breath of the sea before a storm.


    Riven stepped into the ring, the heat around him crackling faintly. The two elements met in the middle¡ªwater and fire, silence and smolder.


    Kael''s voice was calm but cold, like deep ocean currents¡ªmeasured, powerful, unshaken. "I''ve faced flames before. Seen them roar with pride, only to vanish beneath the weight of the sea."


    Riven didn''t answer.


    He simply raised his blade¡ªblack flame curling up the edge like smoke from a dying world.


    A statement. A challenge. A promise.


    The Elder raised his hand.


    "Begin!"


    Kael didn''t wait.


    The moment the Elder''s hand dropped, a column of water erupted from beneath his feet, crashing forward in a tidal wall that split the arena like a monsoon given form. But it wasn''t just water. Jagged ice crystalized along the wave''s edge¡ªrazor-thin, glinting like blades as they surged forward within the crushing current.


    Riven didn''t blink.


    His abyssal flame rose in answer, not in a flare¡ªbut in a spiral. Black heat twisted upward around him, coiling like a living tempest, silent and suffocating. The moment the two forces collided, the arena detonated in sound and fury.


    A wall of steam exploded outward, blinding and thick. The platform beneath their feet groaned, cracked tile steaming under the raw elemental clash. The pressure wave slammed against the barrier walls, sending students staggering. Riven slid back a single space, boots grinding across wet stone as he absorbed the brunt of it.


    But the water didn''t stop.


    Kael''s mana surged again¡ªsharp and intelligent, layered with control. Each thread of his magic wove together like the sea itself: relentless, fluid, patient. His water didn''t crash¡ªit corroded. His ice didn''t pierce¡ªit fractured.


    Riven''s flames hissed under the strain.


    Kael lifted a hand with a snap.


    The tide split, reshaping itself midair. Dozens of tendrils spiraled outward¡ªropes of water laced with freezing pressure, dancing like serpents through the mist. Every one sharpened with frozen tips, each one a spear drawn from the deep.


    Riven moved.


    Crimson Mirage ignited across the arena¡ªheat-born reflections scattering in a flicker of red. The tendrils struck, slicing through steam and shadow, hitting afterimages with violent snaps that shattered into ice and boiling mist.


    But Kael wasn''t finished.


    He stepped forward, both hands rising as the air twisted around them.


    Then the arena changed.


    A dome of water descended over the platform¡ªa shimmering veil of suspended sea, warping space, weight, and sound. Mana coiled through it like an undertow, dense and heavy.


    Riven''s abyssal flame flickered. Dimmed. For the first time.


    Gasps rippled from the crowd. Even Nyx leaned forward. And at the edge of the stands, where the faculty now stood¡ªArchmage Elara''s sharp gaze narrowed.


    Still, Riven didn''t move.


    Didn''t waver.


    He raised his hand¡ªand the abyss answered.


    This time, the fire didn''t rise in rage. It coalesced. Tightened. Not a roar, but a breath drawn from the depths of silence. His sword ignited in complete blackness, void-inked and rimmed with violet.


    He didn''t try to burn the water.


    He let it come to him.


    The abyssal fire spread slowly across the floor¡ªlow, deliberate¡ªlicking at the walls of the dome like a question.


    And then the answer came.


    It began at the edges.


    Where the abyssal fire licked at the curved wall of suspended water, something subtle shifted. The ripple of the tide didn''t recoil. It didn''t hiss or boil or steam in protest.


    It simply ceased to exist.


    No sound. No smoke.


    Just absence.


    The water along the edge of the domain shivered¡ªand disappeared. Not in heat. Not in light. But as if space itself refused to hold it any longer.


    Like the sea was being forgotten.


    The flames didn''t spread outward in a blaze¡ªthey pulled inward, coiling into thin, ragged veins of black heat that reached into the heart of Kael''s dome with slow, deliberate hunger. Where the fire touched, the tide lost cohesion. The mana inside the water cracked, unraveled. The pressure dropped.


    Kael felt it instantly.


    His eyes widened, then narrowed into sharp lines. His brows drew down in a sudden snap, sweat beading along his temples as he poured more mana into the collapsing weave.


    But it didn''t respond.


    The dome was fraying¡ªnot from external force, but from rot within. A quiet, unnatural undoing that crawled beneath the surface and gnawed at the foundation of the spell.


    Kael grit his teeth and raised both hands, trying to rebind the construct, to layer it with fresh mana, to repair the floodwall of his magic.


    But the Abyss wasn''t a force to match.


    It was a force that refused to be matched.


    Riven''s fire wasn''t devouring like a beast. It was rewriting the laws beneath the water¡ªsaying this doesn''t belong here, and the world obeyed. One thread at a time, the sea was being unmade.


    And Kael could do nothing but watch it vanish.


    He poured more mana into the dome¡ªstrengthened the flow, froze the outer shell, summoned currents thick enough to drown a leviathan.


    But it wasn''t enough.


    Riven launched forward, foot slamming into the stone.


    The water parted¡ªnot willingly, but from pressure. From absence. From hunger.


    His blade carved through Kael''s tendrils, through his frost, through the pressure¡ªthrough the very rules of the dome.


    He was inside now.


    Kael fought to keep up. Spirals of water erupted around him, trying to ensnare, to crush, to freeze. But every element bent midair, consumed by the devouring heat riding Riven''s strikes.


    Slash after slash¡ªeach one methodical, each one cutting deeper into the structure of Kael''s spell.


    The dome was cracking.


    Kael roared.


    His arms spread wide, drawing everything inward¡ªthe tide, the frost, the mist¡ªand formed a single massive spear of condensed ocean. Runes spun around it, etched in frost and crashing waves.


    His voice broke like thunder.


    "Drown¡ª!"


    But Riven was already there.


    He swung upward¡ªnot hard. Not fast.


    Just absolute.


    "Consume."


    Black fire howled.


    The spear shattered into mist.


    The domain imploded, folding into itself with a whisper of broken pressure and rushing silence. Water spun into a vortex¡ªand vanished.


    When the light cleared, Kael was on one knee, soaked to the bone, chest rising in shallow, gasping breaths. His control was gone. His mana frayed. His sea silenced.


    And Riven stood over him.


    His blade dimmed now, the fire receding¡ªbut the heat remained. Still in the air. Still in the crowd.


    The Elder stepped forward, his voice ringing clear across the shattered calm.


    "Enough!"


    The final word cracked like a bell, severing the remnants of the duel''s energy from the air. The dome was gone. The water, gone. All that remained was the scent of scorched mist and stone¡ªlike the memory of a storm that had passed too quickly, too violently.


    The barrier fell.


    And the Monolith flared once more.


    [Rank 19 Achieved ¨C Riven Drakar] sea??h th§× N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The crowd didn''t erupt. It didn''t cheer. No one moved.


    Even the wind stayed still.


    At the far edge of the stands, Archmage Elara''s expression remained unreadable. Her hands, clasped before her, tightened just once. She had watched thousands of battles. This one, she knew, had not been ordinary. There was something deeper threaded through that flame. Something the world hadn''t taught.


    Something the world wasn''t ready for.


    As Kael staggered to his feet, supported by a healing aide rushing in from the sidelines, Riven turned and stepped out of the ring. The abyssal fire had fully faded from his blade, though faint threads of shadow still coiled faintly around his boots¡ªunwilling to leave him just yet.


    Nyx waited near the edge, her gaze sharp, her arms crossed.


    For a moment, she said nothing. Then quietly, "That wasn''t just your flame."


    Riven exhaled, the sound slow, measured. "It wasn''t."


    Nyx stepped closer. "You channeled it."


    "I had to," Riven said, voice low. "His Dome¡ªit didn''t bend to heat, it swallowed it. If I''d relied solely on my fire, I wouldn''t have pierced it. It was built to erode, not break. The only way through was to feed it something it couldn''t consume."


    He paused.


    "The Abyss doesn''t burn like fire. It rewrites. I let it in¡ªjust a thread¡ªso my flame could unmake his water, not fight it."


    Her expression hardened. "And the cost?"


    Riven didn''t answer immediately. He drew in a deep breath, then released it, slower this time. Even that simple motion felt heavier than it should have.


    "I''m fine," he said quietly¡ªthough the words sounded more like reassurance for himself than for Nyx.


    Because the truth was¡­ even channeling that small fragment of the Abyss had drained him. Not just mana. Something deeper. Like a piece of him had been carved away to make room.


    Nyx''s gaze flicked toward the Elders¡ªtheir hushed voices, the way Archmage Elara still hadn''t taken her eyes off him.


    "You know you can''t keep dipping into it," she murmured. "Not without consequences."


    "I know." Riven''s voice was steady, but quiet. "And I won''t. Unless I have to."


    Nyx stepped forward, her fingers brushing against his shoulder¡ªnot to steady him, but to anchor him.


    "You''re close," she said, voice softer now. "One more match."


    Riven didn''t reply.


    He stared at the Monolith, its light pulsing slower now, deeper¡ªlike it, too, was holding its breath.


    "I know," he murmured.


    Then he stepped forward again, his shadow trailing long across the stone, ready to face the final name.


    The one standing between him and returning home.

 Chapter 111 - 111: The Power Chart Final Part

    The Monolith pulsed again.


    But this time, the light was different.


    Not the steady, rhythmic glow of earlier challenges. This one was slower. Heavier. As though the stone itself understood the weight of what came next. A hush swept across the Training Grounds¡ªnot from awe, nor fear, but reverence. Even the air had changed, dense and coiled, like a storm held at bay.


    Riven stepped toward the obsidian stone, his fingertips brushing its surface.


    The glow responded¡ªdeep violet at first, then overtaken by radiant gold. Names flickered and fell away like autumn leaves in wind until only one remained, branded across the Monolith with divine certainty.


    Rank 1 ¨C Cassiel Vaigne


    Gasps swept through the crowd the moment the name seared itself across the Monolith''s surface. Some were sharp, drawn in like a blade caught between ribs. Others came softer, more hesitant¡ªbarely audible breaths released by those too stunned to speak. But every sound carried weight, and every face held the same shocked expression.


    Cassiel Vaigne.


    His name wasn''t just feared¡ªit was revered. Spoken with the kind of reverence reserved for the most famous of mages and Paladins. Cassiel wasn''t merely the top-ranked student, he was the pinnacle. The golden standard. The one whose divine mana had never faltered, whose victories were so complete they''d become myth within the Academy''s walls. First-years whispered about him with wide eyes. Second-years spoke his name with wary respect. Even third-years, some long since graduated from dueling, remembered the feel of his presence on the field¡ªhow it bent the air and silenced sound.


    He wasn''t someone you challenged lightly.


    Cassiel hadn''t clawed his way up the rankings¡ªhe''d been placed at the summit, and no one had ever reached high enough to force him down. Until now.


    As the golden letters of his name pulsed with living light on the Monolith''s surface, the air seemed to constrict around the arena. Conversations died mid-sentence. Movements stilled. All attention narrowed to one point, one truth¡ªRiven Drakar had reached the summit.


    And Cassiel Vaigne was waiting. The son of one of the great Paladins of the Solis Kingdom, heir to a bloodline steeped in holy magic, and the undisputed top of the second-year rankings since his first step onto the dueling grounds.


    And now, he would face Riven.


    The Elder didn''t speak ¡ª he didn''t need to.


    The summoning circle lit the ring, but unlike before, it did not spark or flare. It opened like a gate¡ªslow, radiant, sure of its own strength. Light bloomed from the glyphs in threads of white and gold, weaving the outline of a tall figure forged in brilliance.


    Cassiel Vaigne stepped forward.


    Golden hair tied neatly back, eyes like liquid honey. He didn''t glow¡ªbut everything near him seemed brighter by proximity. His armor was ceremonial yet battle-scarred, marked with subtle sigils that pulsed with divine mana. At his side, a longsword etched with radiant script hung silent¡ªits edge kissed by sunlight.


    The arena, for a moment, seemed too small to contain them both.


    Fire and divinity.


    Shadow and sunlight.


    Cassiel didn''t draw his sword immediately. Instead, he stood still, golden hair catching the light like it had been spun from sunlight itself. His honey-colored eyes narrowed slightly¡ªnot with arrogance, but with something more difficult to place. Wariness. Curiosity. Calculation.


    "I''ve been watching you, Riven," Cassiel said at last, his voice calm and steady¡ªmeasured, yet sharp enough to cut through the charged silence hanging over the arena. "Not just today. For the past month. Whispers reached me of a student climbing too fast, drawing too much attention. At first, I thought it was just noise."


    He paused, eyes narrowing slightly, the gold in them darkening like a storm behind sunlight.


    "But then I saw it. That flame of yours¡­ it doesn''t behave like fire should. It doesn''t blaze¡ªit devours. And that unsettles me."


    Riven didn''t speak at first. His expression remained unreadable, though a faint shimmer of heat curled from his shoulders. S§×arch* The N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "You weren''t the only one who took notice," Riven said quietly. "The king summoned me himself. He studied the flame¡ªexamined it firsthand. And in the end, he declared it nothing more than a dark-colored fire. An advanced affinity. Unusual, yes¡­ but still within the bounds of what''s understood."


    Riven paused, then tilted his head slightly. The edge in his voice was cold now. Sharp.


    "Are you saying he was wrong?"


    Cassiel''s eyes flared.


    A flicker of indignation rippled through him, almost too fast to see¡ªbut Riven caught it. The tightening of his jaw. The slight shift of his stance. The subtle way his hand moved closer to his sword hilt.


    "I serve the Crown," Cassiel said, each word heavier than the last. "I have trained to become a Paladin of the royal house¡ªits shield and blade. I don''t question the king."


    Riven''s response came like a breath before a storm. "Then you have nothing to fear."


    He drew his blade.


    The abyssal fire rose with it¡ªnot roaring, not wild, but deliberate. Patient. It curled along the edge of the weapon like a shadow made flame, as if remembering every duel that had brought him to this point.


    Cassiel''s fingers curled tighter around the hilt of his blade, the leather grip groaning under the pressure. Whatever restraint had held him in check moments before, whatever composure he wore like armor¡ªit cracked. He didn''t speak again. There was no need.


    Silence fell between them, heavy and final.


    The Elder raised his hand, eyes sharp, breath held like the rest of the arena. For a moment, time seemed to hesitate¡ªthen the hand fell, cutting the air like a blade.


    "Begin!"


    Cassiel advanced, his every movement composed, deliberate¡ªlike a statue carved from light had chosen to walk. Divine mana shimmered around him in slow waves, causing the air itself to bend. His sword hadn''t even touched Riven yet, but the pressure of it was already there¡ªradiant, resolute, inescapable.


    Riven didn''t falter.


    He moved just as he had in the Created Training Space, his instincts sharpened, his mind running ahead by seconds. There was no time for long engagements. Not with someone like Cassiel. He had to finish this fast, overwhelm with precision, force a misstep¡ªbecause if he allowed Cassiel to dictate the flow, he''d lose the tempo, and the match.


    Crimson Mirage erupted.


    Afterimages split and scattered, moving with chaotic rhythm. Riven darted forward from the left, but two illusions broke from the right and rear¡ªflanking from all sides.


    Cassiel didn''t move.


    Not yet.


    Then¡ªhis sword lifted. It shimmered once and golden arcs erupted from its edge.


    Blades of holy mana surged outward like lances of dawn, tearing through the mirages as if light itself rejected shadow. The afterimages burst apart in glowing trails of dissipating heat, revealing the real Riven barreling in from above.


    Cassiel turned.


    His sword rose just in time to catch Riven''s strike¡ªand the two clashed.


    The sound was deafening. Not just metal on metal, but power on power. Divine radiance met abyssal fire in a blinding flash, gold and black grinding against each other in a storm of sparks.


    Riven landed hard, his boots skidding against the arena stone. The resistance had been like striking a mountain wrapped in sunlight. Cassiel hadn''t moved.


    "You''ve trained well," Cassiel said, his voice calm even as his blade pulsed brighter. "But this is where your climb ends."


    He stepped forward¡ªand the ground beneath him cracked.


    Radiant glyphs burst into being beneath his feet, expanding in a wide circle, their design intricate and sacred. The audience gasped as the divine array locked into place, threads of holy magic coiling like sunbeams caught in glass.


    Cassiel raised his blade.


    "Sanctum Unbound."


    Light erupted from the circle, bathing the arena in a golden aura that swallowed shadows and compressed pressure into purity. Riven''s flames hissed in protest. The abyss recoiled¡ªnot in fear, but in resistance. As if the arena itself now belonged to Cassiel and was rejecting anything born of darkness.


    It felt like suffocation.


    Riven''s lungs drew breath, but it came heavy. His mana pulsed against the field like a heartbeat under siege.


    But he didn''t stop.


    He moved through the pressure¡ªevery step calculated, every motion honed in the crucible of his own private hell. The Created Space had taught him how to fight in disadvantage. How to read and react under oppressive conditions. And this?


    This was just another storm to walk through.


    He launched forward again¡ªthis time not with finesse, but force.


    His abyssal fire surged, coiling around his blade in jagged threads, then flaring outward in a black-edged arc meant to cleave through the golden veil.


    Cassiel responded in kind.


    His sword swept upward¡ªlight gathered to the edge, compressing, focused into a narrow blade of radiant destruction.


    The attacks met midair.


    For a breathless second, it was like time froze.


    Then the explosion hit.


    A wave of pure force rippled across the Training Grounds. Students threw up arms to shield themselves. Elders raised protective wards. Dust and mana burst upward in a cyclone of light and ash, obscuring the field.


    Only two remained visible¡ªtwo silhouettes in the eye of the storm.


    Riven charged again, low and fast.


    Cassiel moved to intercept¡ªthis time with a feint. He slid left, then twisted sharply, driving his shoulder forward as a pulse of divine energy exploded from his chest like a shockwave, forcing Riven to brace or be thrown.


    But Riven didn''t brace.


    He absorbed it.


    The abyss around his body hissed, coiling inward, swallowing the divine strike and bleeding it into black mist. He pivoted, reversed his grip¡ªand slashed upward from the ground.


    Cassiel blocked¡ªbut the force staggered him.


    It was the first time his boots shifted on the stone.


    The crowd noticed.


    So did the Elders.


    Archmage Elara leaned forward slightly, her eyes fixed not on Riven¡ªbut on the black flame winding tighter and tighter along his spine. She felt it now¡ªbarely leashed. Something beyond flame. Something that shouldn''t belong in this world. And yet here it was, moving like a predator with purpose.


    Riven pressed the advantage.


    He didn''t give Cassiel space. No breath. No time.


    Riven struck again¡ªlow, then high, then a sweeping arc meant to bait Cassiel''s guard. The Paladin deflected two, but the third clipped his shoulder, forcing a grimace across his otherwise composed features.


    The divine aura flickered¡ªfaint, but real.


    Riven saw it.


    And he pressed harder.


    Every clash, every exchange, wasn''t just a battle of strength¡ªit was a siphoning. The Abyss, coiled around his blade like a waiting serpent, drinking from the golden mana with each strike. Not violently. Not fast. But enough. Enough to weaken.


    To erode.


    Cassiel''s blows were still punishing¡ªpure arcs of radiant mana designed to burn darkness away¡ªbut Riven didn''t fight them head-on. He slid beneath them, redirected them, let their brilliance wash over him only for the Abyss to sink its fangs in and devour the edge.


    Bit by bit, Cassiel''s light dulled.


    It was slow¡ªagonizingly so¡ªbut Riven could feel it in the rhythm of the duel. The divine pressure pressing down on the arena began to lessen. The golden field dimmed. Cassiel''s glyphs shimmered less brightly. And Riven''s abyssal flame only grew darker.


    Sharper.


    Hungrier.


    Cassiel staggered after a particularly brutal exchange, his blade grinding against Riven''s as sparks scattered between them. The Paladin gritted his teeth, a golden sigil flaring at his wrist to reinforce his grip¡ªbut Riven leaned in, eyes blazing with cold fire.


    "You feel it, don''t you?" he whispered. "The tide turning."


    Cassiel growled, shoving him back with a burst of raw mana.


    "I am the light of the Crown," he snapped, stepping forward with righteous fury. "You will not extinguish me."


    But Riven didn''t answer.


    He was already moving.


    Abyssal fire licked the edge of his blade as he spun, feinted right, and then lunged from the left. His sword met Cassiel''s with a scream of colliding forces¡ªand this time, it slipped past. A shallow cut across the ribs. Nothing serious. But enough.


    Cassiel winced.


    Riven landed and pivoted smoothly, not letting up. Every time their blades met, the Abyss siphoned more. Divine mana bled from Cassiel''s strikes like light bleeding from a cracked lantern. It dimmed. Again. And again.


    Riven fought like he had in the Created Space¡ªruthless, clinical, without a single wasted movement. This was the culmination of every simulation, every shadow duel, every silent hour of pain and progress.


    Cassiel lashed out with a burst of divine light¡ªan orb of compressed radiance that detonated against Riven''s chest.


    But the Abyss swallowed it.


    The shockwave tore through the field¡ªbut Riven didn''t move. The black fire around him coiled tighter, laced with void-colored veins that shimmered like cracks in the world. The next swing came fast¡ªfaster than Cassiel could fully react.


    Steel met steel.


    But this time, Riven''s blade slid down the divine edge¡ªand stopped at Cassiel''s neck.


    The match froze.


    The crowd didn''t move.


    Even the wind dared not speak.


    Cassiel, breathing hard, didn''t flinch¡ªbut his sword arm wavered. The divine glyphs circling him flickered, then faded.


    His light was spent.


    Riven stood still, his sword poised like judgment.


    The Elder stepped forward, eyes wide but voice steady.


    "Enough!"


    The match ended.


    And the Monolith behind them flared one final time¡ªthis time not in violet or gold, but in a strange union of both. Shadow and sunlight braided into a single pulse of light.


    [Rank 1 Achieved ¨C Riven Drakar]


    The crowd remained silent.


    Cassiel stepped back, lowering his blade with slow, measured control. He didn''t bow. Didn''t offer praise or bitterness. But his eyes lingered on Riven longer than before, searching his face as if trying to find something he couldn''t quite name. The usual contempt was gone¡ªreplaced instead by a quiet wariness, a tension that hadn''t been there at the start of the duel.


    There was something in the way Riven moved, in the way his flame had twisted and consumed¡ªnot simply burned. And Cassiel had felt it, even if he didn''t understand it. Not just raw power¡­ but an echo of something older. A whisper clinging to the air even now.


    He said nothing. But as he turned away, his expression was no longer that of a Paladin certain of the light.


    It was a man who had seen a shadow¡ªand recognized that it had depth.


    Riven lowered his sword, breath controlled, though beneath that calm, a subtle tremor ran through his limbs. It wasn''t pain that caused it¡ªit was the strain. The cost of holding the Abyss so close for so long, letting it bleed through him like ink through cloth.


    But it didn''t matter.


    The summit had been claimed.


    The climb was over.


    And now¡ª


    It was time to return home.

 Chapter 112 - 112: We’re Going Home

    Riven didn''t wait for applause.


    He didn''t need it.


    The arena was still trapped in silence, the echoes of his final blow hanging in the air like ghostlight. Even the Monolith seemed reluctant to pulse again, its glow dulled beneath the union of shadow and sunlight still spiraling across its surface.


    Riven turned without a word.


    No victory cry. No smirk. Just the faint crackle of his boots against scorched stone as he walked away from the ring¡ªhis blackened blade now sheathed, his body taut with fatigue he refused to show.


    Nyx waited near the edge, her expression unreadable.


    When he passed her, she fell into step without speaking.


    Together, they left the Training Grounds.


    No one dared follow. sea??h th§× n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    No one dared speak.


    They moved like wraiths through the outer corridors of the Academy, the world blurring into quiet stone and distant whispers. A few students bowed instinctively as they passed, unsure if it was respect¡­ or fear.


    Riven didn''t acknowledge any of them.


    His shoulders were square, but his breath came shallow. Controlled. Every step was deliberate. Measured.


    They reached his room in silence.


    The moment the door closed behind them, Riven let go.


    His body pitched forward¡ªcaught halfway between collapse and surrender¡ªbefore Nyx''s arms wrapped around him, steadying him with a strength that belied her slight frame.


    She helped him to the bed, guiding him down gently. Riven didn''t resist. He sank into the mattress like it was the first solid ground he''d known in weeks.


    His breath escaped in a long exhale, fingers slack at his sides.


    The abyss still stirred beneath his skin, but it was faint now. Distant. Like something waiting patiently in the dark.


    "You channeled too much of the Abyss," Nyx said, her voice softer now¡ªless scolding, more resigned. She exhaled slowly and ran a hand through her hair. "But I get it. That Paladin bastard¡­ he wasn''t going down easy."


    Riven gave a tired, crooked grin. "Yeah. But I still won. That''s what matters."


    "Damn right you did." Nyx grinned back at him, the sharpness in her eyes softened with pride. "You should''ve seen their faces. The Elders looked like they''d swallowed their own tongues. And your so-called siblings? I thought Cole was going to faint."


    Riven chuckled under his breath, a low, gravelly sound. But before he could respond, a faint rustle broke the quiet¡ªpaper sliding across stone.


    Nyx turned sharply, already halfway to the door. She crouched and picked up the folded slip that had been pushed beneath it, her eyes narrowing the moment she saw the seal.


    "Of course," she muttered. "No rest for the wicked."


    She walked back and handed it to Riven without another word. He recognized the insignia immediately¡ªetched in deep violet wax, the skull of the Necromancer Temple stamped into the center.


    "Archmage Elara," Riven murmured, fingers brushing the seal without opening it. "She felt something during the fight. I could sense it. She''s summoning me."


    Nyx didn''t answer right away. Instead, she moved to his side, knelt down, and began pulling off his boots. "Well, she and the rest of the world can wait until tomorrow," she said firmly. "You''re done for the night."


    Riven smirked as she tugged one boot off with a little too much force. "What, no ceremonial tucking-in?"


    Without missing a beat, Nyx pulled the blanket over him with theatrical precision, then gave it a firm pat on his chest. "There. Now shut up before I decide to smother you with it."


    That earned a laugh from him¡ªsoft, genuine.


    "Yes, ma''am," he said, his voice fading with his strength.


    Nyx rolled her eyes and moved to the wall, taking up her usual post beside the door. She leaned back against the stone, arms crossed, shadows curling faintly around her boots.


    Riven''s breath began to slow. The Abyss still echoed in his veins, distant but not gone. And as his body surrendered to exhaustion, his last thought before sleep claimed him was simple:


    Tomorrow, he''d face Elara.


    But for tonight, he would rest.


    ¡ªx¡ª


    Riven stepped through the teleportation gate and into silence.


    The world on the other side was colder¡ªolder. Smooth stone gave way to blackened marble, and the soft hum of the gate faded behind him like a memory being tucked away. He stood at the threshold of the Necromancer Temple proper, beneath an archway carved from obsidian and bone, its surface etched with sigils that pulsed faintly in his vision. Only necromancers could see them¡ªglyphs that watched, whispered, and judged.


    The air here carried a different weight. Cool and dry, it slipped across his skin with the scent of incense, parchment, and something fainter still¡ªdusted bone and time-worn secrets. The carved skull above the entrance seemed to breathe with each flicker of the runes, its hollow gaze fixed downward like a sentinel.


    He didn''t hesitate.


    He stepped forward, and the shadows welcomed him.


    Nyx remained by his side, silent but sharp-eyed, watching for threats no one else could see.


    "Hide for now," Riven said quietly, his voice rough with lingering fatigue.


    Nyx''s gaze snapped to him. "You''re still recovering."


    "I''ll be fine."


    She didn''t argue. She just gave him a long look¡ªone that said she didn''t believe him for a second¡ªand then melted into his shadow without another word.


    Riven stepped inside.


    The interior of the temple was quiet as ever¡ªdim corridors lit by flickering sconces, walls etched with spells older than the Academy itself. The air was heavy with mana, laced with whispers from long-forgotten rituals. Even now, he could feel the weight of ancient power pressing in around him.


    The great hall of the Necromancer Temple stretched out ahead, its darkened archways lit only by cold violet flame. Columns of black stone loomed in silence, each carved with sigils of the old rites, their meanings long forgotten by the outside world. Here, necromancy was not feared¡ªit was sacred. It pulsed in the walls, in the air, in the floor beneath his feet like a second heartbeat.


    He walked with measured steps. His robes trailed through the mist-like haze that curled low to the ground, faint echoes of wandering spirits shifting in its depths. Acolytes moved along the upper balconies, silent and robed, their attention snapping toward him the moment he passed beneath them.


    He didn''t slow.


    Beyond the great hall, a pair of stone doors stood half-open¡ªmarking the threshold to the Inner Sanctum. That''s where they waited.


    Elara.


    And the Temple Elders.


    The chamber beyond was vast but quiet, lit by a single chandelier of bone and flame. Seven chairs formed a crescent before a raised dais, each one occupied by a figure cloaked in black and violet.


    And at the center, flanked by them all, stood Elara.


    Her dark hair framed her face in soft waves, a striking contrast to the violet eyes that gleamed with quiet intensity. The moment Riven stepped inside, those eyes locked onto him¡ªsharp, discerning, unblinking. She studied him in silence, not out of surprise, but with the calm precision of someone searching for traces of something she already suspected. As if the echoes of his duel still clung to him, and she intended to read every shadow they left behind.


    Finally, she spoke.


    "You''ve stirred the upper ranks."


    Her voice carried across the room, smooth and clear, despite the distance. There was no scolding in it¡ªonly observation.


    Riven inclined his head, his voice quiet but steady. "Word travels fast."


    "You climbed to Rank One," she continued, stepping down from the dais. "You shattered expectations. Overthrew every challenger. And now, the Monolith bears your name." Her lips curled, not in surprise¡ªbut in approval. "I am not shocked."


    Riven''s brow lifted faintly. "No?"


    "I''ve seen the way your magic moves," she said. "The way the dark seems to cling to you. You were never meant to stay in the lower ranks. Your power was always going to devour whatever cage they tried to place you in."


    She circled him slowly, gaze flicking briefly toward his hands, his shoulders, his aura.


    "But I didn''t summon you here for congratulations."


    Riven''s expression didn''t shift, but something behind his eyes sharpened. "Then why?"


    Elara returned to the dais and faced him fully, the other Elders now watching in silence.


    "Because it''s time," she said. "For the Temple to return home."


    Riven''s silence was immediate¡ªbut beneath it, his heart kicked once, hard.


    Elara''s voice was quiet, but every word carried the weight of conviction. "The Solis Kingdom was never truly our home. Before the fall of the Shadow Kingdom, they tolerated us¡ªused our craft when it served their purposes. But acceptance was never part of the bargain. Even now, they hunt necromancers without pause or question. To them, we''re a threat that must be erased."


    She exhaled slowly, the weight of years settling behind her eyes before she spoke again.


    "There are whispers of war brewing. The borders grow tense. The paladins gather in silence, and the nobility tightens its grip like a hand clenching around a dagger. But while they posture in gold-plated halls, something else has risen in the dark."


    She stepped forward again¡ªjust one pace, but it felt like a declaration.


    "The Shadow Kingdom."


    A few of the Elders shifted at the name. One even muttered, "I thought it was just rumours¡­ but it really is true after all."


    Elara stepped forward from the dais, descending to stand before the Elders in a slow, deliberate arc. "We''ve hidden long enough. The Solis Kingdom tolerated us once, because they needed us. But now? They would rather see necromancy erased entirely than allow us to exist in the open once more."


    She paused, eyes shadowed with old memory. "They will never accept us. Not truly. We were never meant to survive here."


    A low murmur passed through the Elders, but no one disagreed.


    "That''s why we''re leaving," Elara said simply. "We''ve already begun preparations¡ªsealed tomes packed, soul-inked archives transcribed. The final shipment will leave within the week. After that, the Temple will disappear from this kingdom for good."


    She turned to face Riven fully now, the violet in her eyes catching the torchlight like a flare behind fog. "We won''t go as vagabonds. We go home. To the place where necromancy was born. Where it is understood, not feared. Honored, not hidden."


    She didn''t have to say its name again. The words already clung to the air.


    "You''ve already climbed so far within the Academy," Elara said as she approached, her voice quieter now, more personal. "If you choose to stay, I would understand."


    She stopped just in front of Riven, her violet eyes meeting his.


    "You can remain here¡ªcontinue your ascent, gather power within their walls. Or you can come with us. To a place where necromancy isn''t hidden behind whispers and fear. Where the greatest of our kind still pass down what the world has tried to forget."


    She exhaled, not pleading¡ªoffering.


    "The decision is yours."


    ''Well, I didn''t see this coming,'' Nyx murmured from within his shadow, her voice edged with amusement. ''But I have to admit¡­ this works out suspiciously well.''


    Riven didn''t smile, but the corner of his mouth tugged ever so slightly. He stepped forward, his gaze steady.


    "I''ll go," he said, his voice low but certain. "I''ll leave the Academy and travel with you to the Shadow Kingdom."


    A faint glint sparked in his eyes¡ªsomething sharper than mere agreement. "When do we leave?"


    Elara let out a breath she hadn''t realized she was holding. A rare, genuine smile curved across her lips.


    "Tomorrow."

 Chapter 113 - 113: The Decision

    Following Elara''s unexpected declaration, Riven and Nyx made their way back to his dorm in silence. The weight of what had been said still lingered¡ªlike the final toll of a distant bell echoing through the corridors of the Academy.


    They didn''t speak. They didn''t need to.


    The halls of the second-year dormitory were quieter than usual, the usual chatter dulled by the events of the previous day. Riven''s presence now drew stares¡ªsome reverent, some wary¡ªbut none dared approach. Not after what they had seen. Not after watching him bring down the Academy''s golden son with fire that devoured light itself.


    As they passed the teleportation gate, a flash of red caught Riven''s eye¡ªvivid against the gray stone walls.


    Flaming curls. Pacing back and forth.


    Ember.


    She hadn''t seen him yet. Her movements were anxious, jerky, like a bird too long caged. She wrung her hands, her crimson brows knit in worry, her gaze flicking from passing students to the gate¡ªas if willing someone to appear.


    When her eyes finally landed on Riven, she froze. Just for a moment.


    Then¡ª


    "Riven!" she called out, relief and urgency tangling in her voice. She rushed toward him, her boots striking the stone a little too loud. "I''ve been looking everywhere for you."


    Riven didn''t stop walking. His posture remained upright, but fatigue still clung to him like a second skin. His voice was flat, weary.


    "What do you want?"


    "I¡ª" Ember hesitated, her gaze flicking to Nyx, who loomed like a silent sentinel beside him. "Can we¡­ talk? Somewhere private?"


    Riven exhaled slowly through his nose, debating for half a second before giving a sharp nod. Without a word, he turned toward his room. Ember followed.


    Nyx didn''t need to be told. She peeled away and leaned against the wall beside the door, arms crossed, her eyes already scanning the corridor. Watching. Guarding.


    Inside, Riven closed the door behind Ember with a soft click, then leaned back against the wall, folding his arms. The tension between them was immediate, humming in the air like the coiled string of a drawn bow.


    "Well?" he asked, voice low. "What''s so urgent you''ve been pacing like a ghost?"


    Ember began to move again, her boots scraping softly across the floor as she paced in front of him. Back and forth. Back and forth. Her crimson cloak swirled behind her with each turn.


    Riven''s eyes narrowed. "If you don''t stop moving, I''m going to throw something."


    She halted mid-step, facing him. Her throat bobbed as she swallowed.


    "I''m with you," she said suddenly. Her voice was quiet¡ªbut the weight behind the words was not.


    Silence stretched.


    Riven straightened slowly, the fatigue in his limbs dulled by the surprise. His expression didn''t shift much, but his eyes sharpened¡ªwatching her. Measuring her.


    "Oh?" Riven said at last, tilting his head slightly. "And what made you come to that decision?"


    Ember let out a long breath and sat down on the edge of his bed, the tension in her shoulders finally sagging under the weight she''d been carrying.


    "Being the eldest daughter of House Drakar means I was born to bear a name¡­ not a choice," she said, voice low. "Every hour of my life has been measured. Lessons, tutors, elemental mastery, etiquette¡ªone performance after another, just to be seen. Just to be useful." Her gaze flicked up to meet his. "You already know the truth, Riven. In our family, if you''re not valuable, you''re nothing."


    Her voice faltered, and her eyes glistened. "My memories of when you were born¡­ they''re hazy. I was still young. But I remember the anger in the estate. My mother''s grief and fury after learning of Father''s affair. I didn''t understand it then. I didn''t understand anything, except¡­" She swallowed hard. "I was happy. I thought I had another little brother."


    She let out a hollow laugh, broken at the edges. "Then you disappeared. No mention, no trace. It was like you''d never existed. And for a while, I thought maybe I''d imagined it. A child''s fantasy."


    Riven didn''t speak, his expression unreadable, but his eyes never left her.


    Ember looked down at her hands. "I used to sneak away from my lessons. I''d wander the estate on my own¡ªimagining I was on some grand adventure¡ªbut the truth is¡­ I was looking for you. I didn''t even know what I expected to find. Most days I found nothing."


    She paused, her breath hitching.


    "Until one day¡­ I did."


    Her voice grew faint, tight.


    "It was during lunch. I''d wandered to a part of the estate no one used¡ªold, abandoned, covered in dust and cobwebs. I thought it was empty. But the door was slightly open." She closed her eyes for a moment. "And you were there."


    "You were so small, Riven. Fragile. Quiet. The room you were in wasn''t fit for a servant, let alone a child. It was cold. Dirty. You looked like you hadn''t been touched by sunlight in weeks. I didn''t understand why no one was caring for you. Why you were alone."


    She wiped at her face, tears beginning to spill.


    "I wanted to tell Mother. I knew she had been sad when she learned about you, but I thought¡­ maybe if she saw you, really saw you, she would understand. But I didn''t. Instead, I started sneaking back to you. I''d bring food. Clean you. Read you stories¡ªdo anything to make you smile. You were just a baby¡­ but you''d hold onto my fingers like they were everything."


    She took a trembling breath. "But one day, I was caught. A maid¡ªCandace¡ªsaw me leaving your room. She told Mother."


    Riven''s jaw tensed at the name, eyes narrowing slightly.


    "She was furious," Ember continued, voice cracking. "Mother¡­ punished me. And then she punished you. I heard the screams. She told me if I ever went near you again, she would hurt you more. Enough for the both of us."


    Her voice broke completely.


    "I believed her. So I stayed away. I thought¡ªI told myself¡ªit was better for you."


    She stood now, stepping closer, tears slipping freely down her cheeks. "But I was wrong. You were left to suffer. Alone. And I should''ve done something. I should''ve fought harder. I should''ve helped."


    Her hands trembled at her sides. "I know I don''t deserve forgiveness. I''m not asking for it. I just want to do now what I couldn''t back then. I want to stand by your side, Riven. I want to support you¡ªno matter what you choose. I''m not here as a Drakar. I''m here as your sister."


    She stopped just a breath away from him, her eyes locked to his.


    "I''m with you now. And I won''t walk away again."


    Silence settled like a blade between them. Ember stood still, barely breathing, her hands clenched at her sides as she waited for Riven''s response.


    His expression gave nothing away.


    And yet¡ªbehind his eyes, something stirred. Not emotion. Not memory. But fragments. Echoes left behind by the one whose body he now used. A child''s laughter. The feel of tiny hands grasping fingers. A flash of red curls in a sunlit corridor. But they were fractured¡ªgrainy, disjointed¡ªlike memories half-remembered from a life that wasn''t quite his.


    They slipped away just as quickly.


    Riven''s voice broke the silence, low and level. "If you choose this path¡­ you leave behind the Drakar name. Your place. Your status. Everything."


    "I know." Her voice was firm, unwavering. "I''m ready. I want to be the sister I should have been."


    A pause.


    Then, for the first time in what felt like years, Riven let out a quiet laugh. Not bitter. Not sharp. Just¡­ real. His lips curled into something almost unrecognizable¡ªa genuine smile.


    Ember''s breath caught in her throat. She had never seen him smile like that. Not even as a child.


    But the warmth in his expression didn''t last.


    "There''s just one thing I need," Riven said softly, stepping closer.


    Ember nodded quickly, hope swelling in her chest. "Anything."


    "I need you¡­" he murmured, his tone suddenly unreadable, "to die for me."


    Her eyes widened¡ªbut only for a second.


    The blade struck before she could scream.


    It moved like a shadow¡ªa flicker of black steel that appeared in his hand and sank deep into her chest in one seamless motion. The sound was quiet. A sharp exhale. A wet gasp.


    Ember stumbled backward, blood rising in her throat. Her hand reached toward him, not in anger¡­ but in confusion. Betrayal. Hurt. She collapsed to her knees, and then to the floor, breath hitching as her body began to still.


    Riven stood above her, his expression once more cold. Empty. Detached. sea??h th§× Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "I''m sorry, sister," he said quietly, almost as if the words were an afterthought. "But you''re only of use to me if I can fully control you."


    With a wave of his hand, flames licked across the blade, cleansing it of blood before he returned it to his inventory. Then he stepped over her body and extended his palm above her still form.


    "Awaken."


    A dark red magic circle bloomed into existence, its edges inscribed with ancient glyphs pulsing in rhythm with his mana.


    The shadows responded.


    The air grew cold.


    [[ Activating Puppeteer of the Dead ]]

 Chapter 114 - 114: Abyss Fused Warrior

    A thick, shadowy aura began to pulse around Ember''s collapsed form, tendrils of darkness coiling and sinking into her skin. Her limbs twitched¡ªonce, twice¡ªthen jerked violently before her movements began to stabilize. Slowly, unnaturally, she rose to her feet.


    [[ Subjugation successful ]]


    [[ Adding Ember as an Undead Warrior ]]


    [[ Total Undead Warriors: 23 ]]


    [[ Spaces Available Until Next Upgrade: 2 ]]


    Unlike Sana, who had fallen to one knee and called him master after her reanimation, Ember said nothing. She stood in silence.


    Almost¡­ mournful.


    Her ruby-red eyes, now dulled by death, met Riven''s with an expression that made him pause. Even in death, there was betrayal in her gaze. Hurt. Grief that hadn''t fully faded.


    Riven exhaled and stepped closer, placing a hand gently atop her cold head.


    "You''re no good to me like this," he muttered. "I''ll give you a little power. But I want you to prove you deserve it."


    [[ Activating Undead Advancement System ]]


    [[ Available Promotion: Undead Warrior ¡ú A//by¡­/ss Fused Warrior ]]


    [[ Begin channeling mana and /A¡­:::bys/s? ]]


    Riven''s brow furrowed as flickering error codes danced across the notification window. The system trembled around anything involving the Abyss¡ªas though it wasn''t meant to process it. Broken characters, corrupted instructions.


    He remembered Nyx''s words.


    "Even Velmorian never channeled the Abyss the way you do."


    Maybe the system wasn''t rejecting the commands. Maybe it simply didn''t understand them.


    He shook the thought away. That problem could wait until he returned to the Shadow Kingdom. Until then¡­ he''d make do.


    "Do it," he said flatly.


    Abyssal mana surged through him once more, dark and scorching, as he braced his already-drained body for the strain to come.


    The shadows responded instantly.


    A pulse¡ªdeep, low, ancient¡ªshivered through the room as the temperature dropped. The torches dimmed as y he air itself seemed to hold its breath.


    It wasn''t like casting a spell or channeling a technique. No¡ªthis was descent.


    His mind plunged inward, past his mana circuits and through the reservoir of darkness nested in his core. He reached beyond his body, letting his consciousness bleed into the void.


    The Abyss greeted him.


    It always did.


    Endless, formless, consuming. Yet now, Riven searched within it¡ªnot for power, but for her.


    A single thread of soul, fragile and torn, drifting somewhere in the current of oblivion. He focused, cutting through the storm of wailing spirits and forgotten thoughts that brushed against his senses. The deeper he pushed, the harder it became to hold on to himself¡ªuntil he felt it: sea??h th§× n?vel_Fire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    A flicker¡ªfamiliar, fleeting.


    It shimmered like dying light beneath a storm, fragile and scattered. Her soul wasn''t whole. It drifted in pieces¡ªfractured memories, half-formed thoughts, remnants of who she''d once been. A thousand threads unraveling in the Abyss.


    But it was there.


    Dim, distant¡­ but alive.


    And that was enough.


    Riven reached into the dark and seized it¡ªpulled it back from the edge of nothing.


    Pain lanced through his skull as the Abyss resisted, coiling around the fragment like a beast refusing to give up its prize. But Riven did not flinch. He commanded. The Abyss obeyed¡ªnot willingly, but inevitably. Tendrils of black fire licked across his skin as he siphoned a portion of Ember''s fractured soul from the void and forced it back into her shell.


    The system screamed.


    [[ WARNING: Abyssal Interference Detected ]]


    [[ Unstable fusion in progress¡­ ]]


    [[ Success chance: ¡­??? ]]


    [[ Proceeding¡­ ]]


    Ember''s body seized.


    Not the awkward spasms of the undead¡ªbut a violent rejection. As though her body knew something unnatural had been forced into it and was trying to burn it out. Shadows rose around her, not from Riven¡ªbut from her. They flared like wings, burning black and crimson.


    She screamed.


    Not a cry of pain, but something deeper¡ªraw and visceral, as if her very soul was being torn apart and reforged in the dark. The sound echoed through the room, sharp enough to rattle the walls, broken enough to make the air feel heavier.


    It wasn''t human.


    It was grief, fury, memory, and rebirth all colliding in a single, breathless moment.


    And then¡ª


    Silence.


    Heavy. Absolute. As if the world itself was holding its breath.


    Riven dropped to one knee, breathing heavily. Sweat slicked his skin. His vision pulsed with static, the Abyss still curling at the edges of his mind. He pushed it down. Controlled it.


    Before him, Ember stood perfectly still. Her hair, once vibrant red, was now streaked with veins of obsidian black. Her eyes¡ªstill crimson¡ªglowed faintly, not with life, but with something deeper. Older.


    She blinked slowly, then tilted her head.


    "¡­Brother."


    The word was soft. Hollow. But sure.


    Riven straightened slightly, cautious but alert.


    "You remember?"


    She touched her chest, her fingers trailing faint flickers of black flame. "¡­Some things. Not all. Faces. Voices. A room. Loneliness. Then you." Her gaze lifted to meet his again. "I remember that I¡­ follow you."


    Riven studied her carefully. Her stance, her tone¡ªeverything about her was off from the Ember he remembered. She was no longer Ember Drakar, eldest daughter of the family that scorned him. What stood before him was something reborn. Fused. Loyal.


    But still not whole.


    "You can follow me for now, prove yourself worthy." he said simply.


    She nodded once, eyes set with determination. "I will."


    The system chimed again, its voice quieter, hesitant.


    [[ Promotion Complete ]]


    [[ Ember has evolved into: Abyss-Fused Undead Warrior ]]


    [[ Loyalty: Absolute ]]


    [[ Memory Retention: Fragmented ]]


    [[ Status: Stable ]]


    Riven exhaled slowly, only now realizing he''d been holding his breath.


    The shadows near the door stirred, subtle but sharp¡ªNyx had felt it.


    "Nyx," he called.


    She came in at once, as if she''d been waiting eagerly, her expression immediately alert. Her gaze swept the room, settling on Ember and the bloodied floor with sharp calculation.


    "What did you do?" she asked, her voice edged with alarm. Then, after a beat, her mouth twisted into something amused. "Gods, you really do like stabbing people. First Sana, now this poor girl."


    "I''m his sister," Ember said coolly, folding her arms as her ruby eyes narrowed. "Who are you?"


    Nyx froze mid-step. Her gaze flicked to Riven, then back to the girl now glaring at her. "She''s¡­ she''s dead, right?" she asked slowly. "One of yours?"


    "She is," Riven confirmed. "Undead. Bound."


    Nyx tilted her head, circling Ember slowly. "But she''s aware and¡­ sassy. That''s not normal." She narrowed her eyes. "They''re usually hollow. Blank."


    "You''re kind of rude, has anyone ever told you that?" Ember said, hands on her hips. "Now, seriously¡ªwho are you?"


    Nyx blinked, then burst into a wicked grin. "Oh, I like her."


    Then she turned back to Riven, eyes glittering. "But really¡ªwhat did you do?"


    Riven shrugged, running a hand through his hair. "Honestly? Not entirely sure."


    With a snap of his fingers, the blood vanished from the floor in a hiss of flame.


    "I''ll let you know when I figure it out."


    Riven glanced toward the sealed window, the last strands of twilight fading behind the glass.


    "We leave for the Shadow Kingdom tomorrow," he said, voice low. "But there''s something I need to tie up before then."


    Nyx''s grin faded, curiosity sharpening in her gaze. "The Drakar Estate?"


    Riven nodded once. "I won''t leave this kingdom with unfinished business. Not with them."


    Ember''s posture straightened slightly. Though her face held no memory of her former life, something in her stirred at the name. A flicker of tension in her shoulders. The ghost of a feeling she didn''t yet understand.


    Nyx moved toward the wall and retrieved her cloak, fastening it around her shoulders. "Then we go tonight."


    ¡ªx¡ª


    They waited until the halls were silent¡ªuntil the last lanterns in the Academy dorms flickered low and the shadows thickened outside the windows.


    No goodbyes. No farewells.


    Just three silhouettes slipping through the darkness, unseen and unheard.


    Riven led them through the outer courtyard, his presence cloaked in stillness. They moved along the crumbling back wall of the Academy grounds until they found the gap they used before.


    Riven crouched low, slipping into the torn opening and brushing aside a curtain of ivy. Nyx followed silently and Ember ducked in after them, her eyes scanning the dark trees ahead.


    Beyond the wall stretched a narrow strip of forest¡ªdense, overgrown, forgotten. The kind of place no one ventured unless they had something to hide. The path that followed was little more than a trail of beaten grass and stone, leading away from the Academy and into the hills that watched over the city.


    They moved without speaking and by the time the silhouette of the Drakar estate rose through the trees¡ªits towering spires lit in cold moonlight¡ªRiven''s jaw had set in quiet steel.


    The estate hadn''t changed.


    Arched windows. Golden-trimmed gates. White-stone walls meant to impress noble guests. But beneath the glamour, Riven saw it for what it was: a gilded prison.


    Ember stood beside him, staring up at it with blank recognition. Something flickered in her gaze¡ªconfusion, disquiet¡ªbut no words followed.


    Nyx folded her arms. "How do you want to do this?"


    Riven stared at the gates for a long moment. Then his voice, calm and cold, broke the silence.


    "Quietly."


    He stepped forward, his fingers curling once¡ªjust enough to stir the shadows around them.


    And the wind, once still, began to shift.

 Chapter 115 - 115: Losing Her Mind

    Nyx slipped into Riven''s shadow without a sound, her form vanishing in a swirl of darkness. With Ember close behind, the two Drakar siblings passed through the estate''s outer wards undetected, the enchantments parting like mist around them.


    The snoring guard near the gate didn''t even stir.


    They moved with the shadows, soundless and unseen, gliding along the worn cobblestone path that wound toward the grand estate. It loomed like a monument to pride and legacy, but Riven didn''t spare it a second glance. He led them with certainty, cutting through the moonlit courtyard and toward the far side of the building where he knew a lesser-used servant''s door waited.


    Halting just beneath the stone arch, Riven paused.


    From within his inventory, he activated the passive enhancement bound to his staff¡ªDragon Eyes¡ªand at once, heat signatures bloomed into view behind the walls. Faint flickers moved through the structure: a handful of servants scattered through the lower halls, rushing to complete their duties before the night grew too deep.


    The rest had already retired.


    Perfect.


    The door creaked open under Riven''s hand, hinges softened with age and disuse. He motioned for Ember to follow, and the two slipped into the unlit servant corridor, their footsteps light against the stone floor.


    The halls smelled of old polish and fading lavender¡ªan echo of the estate''s forced elegance. Ember moved just behind him, silent but alert, her crimson eyes scanning every shadow with quiet calculation. Despite her new nature, she moved with the same grace she once held in life¡ªjust sharpened now, like a blade drawn too long across whetstone.


    They passed storerooms and linen closets, the narrow hallways familiar to Riven. At a split in the hall, he held up a hand, halting Ember.


    Voices.


    Muffled. Feminine. Sharp with anger.


    He pressed his back to the wall, motioned Ember to do the same, and inched closer to the gilded archway that led to one of the manor''s master bedchambers¡ªCountess Drakar''s.


    The door was slightly ajar. Candlelight flickered through the crack.


    Riven''s hearing sharpened, the world narrowing to the voice within.


    "¡­he won''t even listen to me anymore," the Countess snapped. "I told him¡ªwarned him¡ªthat boy would become a stain on this family if we let him live. But no, he insisted that they couldn''t break the law against harming blood relations! Said it would bring us favor. Favor!"


    There was the soft rustle of fabric as she paced, he imagined¡ªher voice rising and falling with long-ingrained theatrics.


    "I tried again just last night. I told him we could stage something subtle. An accident. A duel gone wrong. But he waved me off like I was mad. Mad!" She let out a bitter laugh. "As if I haven''t cleaned up his messes for decades."


    A timid voice responded¡ªlikely one of her personal maids. "M-my Lady¡­ the Count has grown more cautious since the war rumors began. He said the Drakar name should stay out of Academy business."


    Another harsh sigh.


    "He''s become weak. And now that monster is top of the rankings. Do you understand what that means? It''s too late. If we don''t act soon, we''ll lose everything."


    Riven''s jaw tightened slightly, but he didn''t move. Not yet.


    The Countess began pacing again, her voice lowering but still laced with venom.


    "I should''ve drowned him when I had the chance."


    Riven''s eyes darkened.


    Ember remained silent, but a flicker of shadow coiled just beneath her skin, responding to her mother''s words. Her expression was composed¡ªbut her eyes seethed.


    Riven raised a hand. Not yet.


    He leaned a fraction closer to the doorframe, waiting. Watching.


    Letting her continue.


    Inside the room, the Countess''s voice dropped to a hiss, ragged and tired beneath its venom.


    "That boy has changed," she muttered. "He was always strange¡ªquiet, distant¡ªbut this¡­ this is something else. That flame, the one they whisper about¡ªit''s not fire. It''s not magic. It''s wrong."


    There was a pause, and the sound of a cup being slammed onto a table.


    "I heard what they said about the duel. How he stood against Cassiel Vaigne without flinching¡ªlike the boy wasn''t fighting for power, but reclaiming something already his."


    The maid''s voice trembled. "Perhaps¡­ perhaps we should wait. See what happens before we¡ª"


    "No." The Countess cut her off. "Waiting is what got us here. I don''t care what my husband says. I will not let that thing stain our name again. He is not a Drakar. He never was."


    Her voice turned to steel, laced with the same cold resolve Riven remembered from the scattered memories of this body''s childhood¡ªthe same tone she once used to order punishments or cast aside servants for speaking out of turn.


    The same tone she used when deciding who was worth keeping alive.


    "I will act with or without the Count''s blessing," she finished. "Ive tried it once, I can do so again. If I must rid this world of him myself¡­ so be it."


    Silence followed.


    The crackle of the fireplace. The quiet rustle of shifting linen as the maid bowed and backed away.


    But Riven remained where he stood, eyes shadowed beneath the faint flicker of torchlight from the hall.


    "She always liked to talk," he murmured, voice cold and quiet.


    The door creaked open.


    The Countess spun around, startled, her silk robe trailing behind her. "Who¡ª?"


    Her eyes landed on Riven first, and her face went white.


    "You," she breathed, voice sharp with alarm. "What are you doing here? How dare you set foot¡ª"


    Then she saw Ember.


    And for a moment, her fury faltered.


    "Ember?" she said, blinking in disbelief. "You''re here too?"


    She straightened, smoothing her robe as a note of cautious relief slipped into her voice. "Thank the gods. I''ve been trying to reach you, but your attendants said you were resting."


    Ember said nothing.


    The Countess stepped toward her, casting a wary glance back at Riven. "You came with him? Why? What''s going on?"


    Still, Ember didn''t speak. Her crimson eyes watched with quiet intensity, expression unreadable.


    The Countess gave a tight smile, the tension in her shoulders easing just slightly. "You must be under some kind of spell. He''s done something, hasn''t he? I know how twisted his magic is. But it''s alright. You''re safe now."


    She reached for Ember''s arm.


    Ember didn''t move.


    "Darling, listen to me," the Countess continued, voice softening as she turned fully toward her daughter. "I know this boy has always brought¡­ confusion. Chaos. He was never meant to be part of our family. You understand that, don''t you? You always did."


    Her fingers brushed Ember''s sleeve, tentative.


    "I know you''ll protect me."


    Ember tilted her head slightly, her gaze sharp, strange, almost curious.


    "I''m not here for you," she said at last.


    The Countess froze.


    "What¡­ what did you say?"


    Ember took a step back, slipping from her grasp. "You think I came to protect you? After everything you said? After everything you did to him? You''re mistaken."


    The blood drained from the Countess''s face as she finally took a real look at her daughter. The faint flicker of black veining beneath her skin. The unnatural stillness. The way her presence no longer felt like light¡ªbut something colder¡­ darker.


    "Ember?" she whispered.


    Riven stepped forward, shadows curling around his fingers.


    "She''s not yours anymore," Riven said, voice low. "She sees you for what you really are now."


    The Countess backed away, stumbling slightly as she turned toward Riven with growing horror. "What have you done to her?"


    "I''ve only ever been the dutiful little brother," Riven said softly. "And tonight, I thought it was time I returned the kindness you showed me all my life."


    The Countess tried to scream, to summon help¡ªbut the shadows reached her first.


    Dark tendrils surged forward¡ªsilent, swift¡ªas if pulled by the weight of her own guilt. They coiled around the Countess like smoke laced with purpose, wrapping her limbs, her mouth, her eyes. She struggled, thrashed, but it was useless.


    Riven raised a single hand and placed his palm flat against her forehead.


    [[ Skill: Abyssal Nightmare ]]


    A pulse of black energy surged from his fingers, vanishing into her skull with a soundless thrum. The Countess''s body locked. Her eyes widened. And then she fell¡ªboneless¡ªcrashing to her knees before slumping sideways to the floor.


    Her gaze remained fixed, unblinking.


    She had already fallen.


    ¡ªx¡ª Within the Nightmare ¡ªx¡ª


    The Countess stood at the grand banquet table of the Drakar estate, its surface lined with gilded silver, crystal goblets, and plates stacked high with delicacies. S§×arch* The novel(F~)ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Every seat was filled¡ªlords and ladies of high birth, nobles from the capital, generals of the royal court.


    And at the head of it all, seated on the Count''s chair¡­ was Riven.


    Older. Regal. Clad in flowing black robes threaded with silver and priceless gems. A dark crown circled his brow, glowing faintly with runes no one else could see. The room bowed to him. Even the Count.


    She turned, confused¡ªpanicked¡ªbut no one looked at her. No one acknowledged her. She reached for her husband, but he brushed her hand off like an annoyance.


    "Not now," he whispered, eyes fixed on Riven with shining admiration. "We must not disrespect him."


    "Disrespect who?" she asked, breath catching.


    "The King," someone said from behind her. "Your son."


    Laughter echoed¡ªhers? Someone else''s? It didn''t matter.


    The illusion fractured, crumbling at the edges¡ªonly to bleed seamlessly into the next. Shadows reformed, reshaped, and solidified around her, birthing a new nightmare from the ashes of the last.


    The scent of roses hung heavy in the air.


    Too sweet. Artificial.


    The Countess stood at the top of the grand staircase of the Drakar estate¡ªonly it wasn''t hers anymore. The portraits had changed. The walls gleamed with unfamiliar banners. The servants bowed to someone else.


    She descended the stairs in silence, drawn by the sound of laughter from the great hall. Familiar. Intimate.


    Her husband''s.


    She pushed open the gilded doors and froze.


    The Count sat at the head of the table, smiling in a way she hadn''t seen in years. Not at her¡ªbut at the woman beside him.


    A younger noblewoman. Golden-haired. Flawless. Draped in sapphire silk and confidence.


    The woman leaned in, whispered something, and the Count chuckled¡ªhis hand resting casually over hers.


    "Darling," the Countess tried to say. But her voice came out hoarse. Small.


    He didn''t look at her.


    Servants passed by her like she wasn''t there, offering drinks to the new lady of the house. One of them placed a fresh bouquet of roses beside her plate¡ªher favorite kind.


    "He used to give me those," the Countess whispered.


    "Oh, but they''re mine now," the younger woman said, smiling without malice. "You had your time."


    Another figure entered¡ªEmber.


    She walked right past the Countess, straight to the table, and greeted the new woman with a kiss to the cheek. "Mother."


    No. No, that wasn''t right.


    And then the Count stood. His eyes finally met hers.


    "I''ve already signed the divorce papers," he said calmly. "You''ll be escorted from the estate in the morning."


    "After everything I''ve done¡ªafter the sacrifices¡ª"


    "You''ve served your purpose."


    Guards appeared. Real ones this time. Drakar house guards. But they wouldn''t meet her eyes.


    "Take her to the guest wing," the Count said, as if discussing a guest overstaying their welcome. "Make sure she doesn''t cause a scene."


    The Countess screamed, her voice raw with disbelief, and surged forward¡ªarms outstretched, fingers curled like claws toward the woman who had taken her place.


    But the moment she reached them, her hands sliced through empty air.


    They passed through the Count, through Ember, through the golden-haired woman with the smile that didn''t waver. Like they weren''t real. Like she wasn''t.


    No one flinched. No one turned.


    She tried again¡ªgrabbing at shoulders, shaking chairs, tearing at the tablecloth ¡ªbut her limbs moved through the world like a ghost.


    Invisible.


    Unseen.


    Her voice cracked as she shouted, begged, shrieked. Not a head turned.


    Not even a blink.


    She could feel herself fading. Not just from the room¡ªbut from their memories. From their lives.


    She didn''t exist here. Not anymore.


    The new wife smiled again. The Count poured her another glass of wine.


    And Ember sat beside them, as if she''d never belonged anywhere else.


    Forgotten.


    Replaced.


    Alone.


    "You can''t do this to me!" she screamed, clawing at the walls. "I built this house! I carried this family!"


    ¡ªx¡ª


    Riven withdrew his hand, the connection to the nightmare realm severing like a blade pulled from flesh.


    His breathing came in shallow, ragged pulls¡ªchest rising and falling as if the air around him had thickened. His pulse thudded slow and heavy beneath his skin, each beat echoing in his ears like a war drum dampened by distance.


    A thin stream of blood traced from one nostril, curling down the edge of his lip. He wiped it away with the back of his hand, smearing crimson across pale skin.


    Then, with effort, he rose¡ªshoulders tense, shadow trailing behind him like a living thing.


    "She''ll be locked in it for hours," he said quietly. "But it''ll feel like centuries for her."


    Nyx emerged from his shadow, arms folded and eyes gleaming. "Poetic."


    "She deserves to feel those things," Riven replied. "To be erased. Replaced. Made¡­ irrelevant."


    Ember stepped forward and knelt beside the Countess''s trembling form. "It definitely feels like a fitting punishment."


    Riven glanced down at the Countess one last time¡ªher body slack, eyes wide and unseeing as the nightmare consumed her mind from the inside out. A faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips, cold and sharp.


    "This isn''t all I have planned for this family," he murmured. "But her losing her mind¡­ is a good place to start."


    He turned, shadows trailing in his wake like a living cloak.


    "It''s too soon to make a stronger move," he said, more to himself than the others. "Not yet. I still need to return. Regain my strength. And when I do¡­"


    His gaze flicked back to the Countess one last time.


    "I''ll deal with the Count personally."


    He looked to Ember. To Nyx.


    "Let''s go."


    And the three of them vanished into the dark, leaving behind only silence¡ªand the beginning of madness.

 Chapter 116 - 116: Homecoming

    The sun had not yet risen, but the outer wall of the capital glimmered with the first hints of dawn¡ªslivers of gold brushing against the stone as if the morning itself were trying to peel away the night.


    Riven stood at the edge of the forest just beyond the city''s perimeter, his cloak drawn tight and hood low over his brow. Behind him, Ember lingered in silence, her newly forged presence pressing against the edge of reality like a blade sheathed in shadow. Nyx had not yet emerged from his form, and he preferred it that way¡ªfor now.


    Up ahead, near the eastern gate, a cluster of figures stood in calm formation. Students¡ªat least in appearance.


    Robes in the colors of the Academy, book satchels slung over shoulders, the occasional yawn or murmured conversation drifting on the wind. They looked like any group of upper-year students on a sanctioned research trip.


    But Riven knew better.


    Beneath the illusion woven into their attire and posture, the full might of the Necromancer Temple waited. Scholars, summoners, archivists, boneweavers¡ªall cloaked in spells of misdirection and glamour.


    At the center of them all stood Elara.


    Her violet robes had been replaced by a more modest academy cloak, her staff wrapped in runed cloth to obscure the symbols etched along its shaft. But her presence couldn''t be hidden. There was a certain weight to her gaze, to the way she carried herself¡ªregal, but dangerous.


    She looked up the moment Riven stepped from the treeline.


    And smiled.


    "You''re late," she said mildly, though her eyes flicked from Riven to Ember with sharp interest.


    "I was tying off loose ends," Riven replied.


    Elara''s gaze lingered on Ember a moment longer. "So I see."


    Ember didn''t speak. Her expression remained calm, almost serene, but her crimson eyes never left Elara''s face. It was not distrust¡ªbut a predator''s patience.


    Elara tilted her head. "Is she¡ª?"


    "She won''t be a liability," Riven said simply. "That''s all you need to know."


    There was a beat of silence.


    Then Elara nodded. "Fair enough."


    She turned, leading him back toward the group. As they passed, the cloaked Temple members gave Riven short glances¡ªsome in recognition, others wary. None spoke aloud.


    "I''ve assigned false names and roles to everyone," Elara said as they moved. "We''ll pass through as an Academy research group en route to study ruins near the western marshlands. It''s a route no one questions during this season."


    "And the guards?" Riven asked, eyeing the twin towers flanking the eastern gate. sea??h th§× N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Taken care of," she said, a trace of amusement in her tone. "I''m still the Archmage of the Academy, Riven. Even here, they know better than to detain me."


    He didn''t respond, but the flicker of approval in his gaze didn''t go unnoticed.


    As they approached the gate, one of the armored city guards stiffened slightly. He was young, probably fresh out of training, and his hand twitched instinctively toward his sword hilt before recognizing the face beneath the hood.


    "A-Archmage Elara," he stammered. "I¡ªI wasn''t informed of a departure¡ª"


    "Last-minute order," she replied smoothly, offering a rolled parchment she didn''t let him open. "You''ll find it signed and sealed. Would you like to delay us over a formality, or shall we be on our way?"


    The guard blinked, then flushed.


    "N-no, ma''am. Of course. Please go ahead."


    The gates creaked open.


    Elara strode through without another word.


    The disguised necromancers followed in silence¡ªone by one, filing out into the pale light of the waking world. Riven and Ember brought up the rear, slipping into the morning mist as the city slowly began to stir behind them.


    The capital faded in the distance, its towers no longer threatening and ahead, the road stretched wide and empty.


    The early morning mist curled around their boots as they walked, muffling the sound of dozens of footsteps along the dirt path winding into the southern woodlands.


    Elara walked at Riven''s sid, her hands clasped behind her back, posture relaxed but alert. She glanced toward him occasionally, her expression thoughtful. Curious.


    And more than once, downright giddy.


    "Have you heard the newest one?" she asked suddenly, breaking the silence. "They''re saying the Shadow King once reanimated an entire battalion with a single gesture. Entire soldiers¡ªbones, armor, weapons¡ªall puppeted like marionettes under his will."


    Nyx, nestled deep within Riven''s shadow, gave an audible snort that only Riven could hear.


    She pressed on, her tone far too enthusiastic for someone talking about a figure most kingdoms considered apocalyptic.


    "They say his shadows walk even when he sleeps. That he commands a divine beast¡ªno one knows what kind. But the descriptions? Scales like pearl and teeth like knives." Her eyes sparkled. "Oh, if only half the stories are true¡­"


    Riven kept his expression neutral, though Nyx''s voice echoed dryly in his mind. ''She''s going to pass out when she finds out who you are.''


    "I thought everyone supposed to fear the Shadow King," he said, just to test her reaction.


    "Oh, most do," Elara admitted with a wave of her hand. "The cautious ones. The ones stuck in the old ways. But not me. Not anymore." She leaned in slightly, lowering her voice like she was sharing a secret. "I think he''s the only one who truly understands what necromancy could become. Not just forbidden magic¡­ but power. Empire. Legacy."


    Riven said nothing but the shadows around his boots curled like cats basking in sunlight.


    Behind them, Ember walked in silence, observing everything and everyone with those faintly glowing crimson eyes. The Temple members kept their distance from her instinctively¡ªnone of them quite able to place the cold weight she carried or the way her presence brushed against their wards like fingers on glass.


    They walked for hours, the sky brightening as the sun began to crest over distant hills.


    Eventually, they reached a forest glade just off the beaten road¡ªa wide clearing where Elara finally called a rest.


    The moment they stopped, some of the younger acolytes slumped gratefully onto logs or unpacked traveling gear. A pair of masked boneweavers quietly refreshed the illusion spells cast over the group''s disguises. Everything moved in perfect rhythm, organized and prepared¡ªElara had clearly planned this escape for weeks.


    As Riven settled onto a low stone, Elara took a seat beside him with a sigh, brushing loose strands of hair from her face.


    "Once we cross the forest," she said, "we''ll be far enough beyond the reach of Solis patrols. From there, we''ll use the teleportation scrolls to bring us near the borders of the Wastes."


    "And after that?" Riven asked.


    Elara smiled faintly. "Then we present our strength to the Shadow King and hope he allows us to call the Shadow Kingdom home once more."


    Riven didn''t answer right away.


    He simply leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, gaze distant as he watched the glade''s edge ripple with drifting mist. The trees beyond stood tall and silent, their shadows long and reaching. To the others, it may have seemed like he was simply contemplating Elara''s words.


    But Nyx, still tucked within his shadow, felt the slight pulse in his mana¡ªthe slow, measured hum of a predator preparing for the long game.


    ''Do you think they''ll kneel,'' she whispered in his mind, ''once they know?''


    ''They''ll have no choice,'' he replied.


    "Ah, I just can''t wait to get there," Elara murmured, wringing her hands with a mixture of impatience and barely restrained excitement. There was a light in her eyes that hadn''t been there before¡ªhope, untempered and raw.


    Riven''s gaze didn''t leave the distant horizon. "And the others?" he asked quietly. "Do they share that same hope? That belief?"


    Elara followed his line of sight, then turned to look at the gathered necromancers trailing behind them.


    Some knelt in the dirt, drawing careful sigils with soot-stained fingers. A few chanted under their breath, steadying their spellwork. Most remained silent, composed¡ªbut Riven saw what others might miss. The slight tremble in their shoulders. The way they kept glancing at the tree line. The tension coiled beneath their skin like wire.


    "They''re young," Elara said, her voice softer now. "But forged by fire. Every one of them has lived under the weight of silence, hiding who they were in a kingdom that treated their very existence as treason."


    She exhaled slowly. "Being able to breathe freely in the Shadow Kingdom¡­ it won''t just be life-changing for them." Her eyes flicked back to him, sincere. "It''ll be the first time they''ve ever lived."


    ¡ªx¡ª


    As dusk fell across the glade and the last rays of sun vanished beneath the horizon, the Necromancer Temple gathered in silence. Cloaks were pulled tight, scrolls unrolled, and sigils carved into the earth in careful, practiced motions. The teleportation circle shimmered with abyssal energy¡ªdull violet veins pulsing like a heartbeat beneath their feet.


    Riven stood at the center, Ember to his right, Elara to his left. With a single nod, the incantation was triggered.


    A flash of cold, otherworldly light.


    Then silence.


    The world reassembled itself with a low hum. When their vision cleared, they stood upon cracked earth scorched by centuries of ruin.


    The edge of the Wastes.


    Ashen wind howled through the broken trees. The sky here was tinted a permanent gray, the clouds thick like smoke. Elara took a cautious step forward, adjusting her hood against the wind. Behind her, the Temple acolytes stared across the desolation, their illusions still intact but their composure faltering.


    Then they saw it.


    In the distance¡ªrising from the ruins like a fortress reborn¡ªa wall.


    Massive. Dark stone reinforced by abyssal blacksteel, glowing softly with runes. It stretched for miles, circling the land like a titan''s crown. The city beyond pulsed with life, faint flickers of mana visible from here.


    The Shadow Kingdom.


    It had returned.


    Riven''s eyes narrowed with satisfaction. They had built well in his absence.


    Without a word, he knelt briefly, placing one palm to the ground. His shadows flickered¡ªand from within them, Nyx emerged. Her form melted into the surrounding gloom.


    "I''ll go ahead," she whispered, already vanishing into the dark. "Let them know their king has come home."


    She was gone before anyone could question it.


    The group pressed on, navigating the dead landscape. The Wastes had not yet been restored¡ªthe land still bore the scars of Solis''s purge¡ªbut life stirred beneath the surface. As they neared the great wall, a presence shifted. Something moved along the ramparts. A signal flared¡ªone only Riven could see.


    The gates opened.


    Elara froze.


    "What¡­?"


    The obsidian doors parted with mechanical precision, revealing armored figures flanking the entrance.


    No challenge. No questions.


    The guards stepped aside in unison and allowed them to pass.


    Elara looked to Riven, baffled. "They didn''t even ask for our names."


    Riven said nothing.


    They stepped through the threshold and into the city.


    And the Temple froze.


    It wasn''t ruins.


    It was a kingdom.


    Streets paved with onyx stone. Tall, towering buildings of blackened marble and darkwood¡ªstructures the Temple didn''t even recognize. Multi-tiered apartments. Market rows. Blacksmith forges with glowing blue flames. Shops and stalls lined the main roads, staffed by undead with polished bone and precise movement. Children¡ªliving children¡ªran past them laughing, flanked by undead pets that snarled playfully.


    Elara''s voice dropped to a whisper. "What¡­ is this place?"


    Citizens paused at the sight of them¡ªhooded strangers in foreign robes. Whispers rose. Curious eyes turned. Then¡­ silence.


    A ripple moved through the crowd.


    The Temple group was watched not with suspicion¡­ but with awe.


    The crowd parted as they passed. Word spread like wildfire.


    By the time they reached the city''s heart, the streets were lined with silent onlookers¡ªcitizens, artisans, even undead laborers who had dropped their tools and turned to face the square.


    And there, waiting in the centre of the city stood five figures.


    Armored. Poised.


    Familiar.


    Elara''s breath caught in her throat because she knew those faces.


    They were identical to the statues back in the Temple¡ªthe generals of the fallen Shadow King. Immortalized in stone.


    And now they stood before her in flesh and blood.


    Krux stood tall, golden hair tousled beneath the edge of his dark helm, his molten eyes warm but tired¡ªlike a soldier who''d waited far too long for his king to return.


    Nyx lingered beside him, arms crossed, a smirk playing at her lips as shadows curled at her feet¡ªeffortless and unbothered, as if she''d never left the fold.


    Aria was still as a statue, cold-eyed and precise, her fingers resting lightly on the hilt of her curved blade, ever a breath from violence.


    Mal loomed nearby, robed in quiet mystery, the violet runes etched across his arms pulsing faintly like heartbeats in the dark.


    And at the center¡ªDamon stood. Cloaked in earth-toned armor veined with glowing stone, his feet planted like roots in the obsidian ground. Small, obsidian horns curled from his brow, a subtle mark of his abyssal blood.


    They stepped forward in perfect unison.


    And then¡­


    One by one, they dropped to their knees.


    Helms lowered. Heads bowed.


    Then, in perfect unison, their voices echoed¡ª


    "Welcome home, your majesty!"


    A wave of motion rippled through the gathering crowds and the people of the shadow kingdom also dropped to their knees one by one, calling out and cheering for the return of their king.


    "What in the world¡­" Elara breathed, her voice barely audible. She stood frozen, eyes wide as she took in the sight of the gathered crowd¡ªhundreds, perhaps more¡ªall dropping to their knees in reverent silence, heads bowed low.


    Riven let out a small sigh before taking a step forward, and with that single step, he let go of the mask he''d worn for far too long.


    His aura spilled out in a slow, suffocating wave¡ªno longer restrained, no longer subdued. Shadows around him surged like a living tide, coiling through the air, flickering across the buildings and streets.


    The crowd reacted instantly. As if struck by a divine wind, the masses bent even lower, foreheads brushing stone and soil. The very air trembled.


    Riven continued forward, the soft scuff of his boots against obsidian echoing like a war drum through the city''s heart. The cloaked members of the Necromancer Temple parted instinctively, eyes wide as the weight of realization pressed down on them.


    Elara remained rooted in place, lips slightly parted, her fingers gripping the staff at her side. Her mind raced to assemble what her heart already knew.


    No one had announced his name.


    No proclamation had been made.


    And yet they bowed.


    Not to the Temple.


    Not to her.


    To him.


    The generals remained kneeling, unmoving, as if carved from stone. And before them, the people bent low, their foreheads brushing the ground, their voices rising in a chant that was not shouted, but whispered in perfect, echoing reverence.


    "Long live the Shadow King."


    Her voice cracked as she whispered, "You¡­"


    Riven turned slightly, his gaze meeting hers¡ªand though his expression was calm, there was no longer a need to hide what he was. The shadows around him coiled with hunger, responding not to command, but to recognition.


    "What¡­" Elara tried again, but her voice faltered.


    One of the younger acolytes dropped to their knees beside her, then another. And another. One by one, the Necromancer Temple began to kneel, not out of fear¡ªbut something deeper.


    Recognition and submission to power.


    Riven paused as the final echoes of the chant¡ªLong live the Shadow King¡ªrippled through the streets like a sacred prayer. The air itself felt heavier now, steeped in reverence and old magic. He looked out over the sea of bowed heads, past his kneeling generals, past the walls built in blood and shadow, and for the first time since his return¡­


    He allowed himself to feel it.


    Not triumph.


    Not pride.


    But homecoming.


    Elara slowly lowered herself to one knee, her trembling hand clutched around the base of her staff. Her breath hitched as the realization fully sank in¡ªnot metaphor, not myth, not ambition whispered in the dark¡ªbut truth. The boy she had watched rise through the Academy, the enigma cloaked in quiet menace, the one she had called ally¡­


    Had been a king all along.


    And not just a king.


    The king.


    The last true monarch of necromancy. The heir of Velmorian. The reborn will of the fallen kingdom, breathing again through flesh, through flame, through abyss.


    "How¡­" she managed, her voice no more than a rasp. "How did none of us know?"


    Riven''s eyes lingered on her¡ªnot unkindly, but without apology.


    "Because I didn''t allow you to know." he gave a small chuckle, his voice was calm. Steady. The voice of a man who had nothing left to prove. "Not until now."


    Behind her, the other necromancers bowed¡ªsome with awe, some with disbelief¡ªbut none with resistance.


    He had not asked them to kneel.


    And yet they did.


    Riven moved past Elara, his robes trailing behind him like a living shadow, his gaze sweeping over the gathered necromancers. When he spoke, his voice was calm¡ªmeasured¡ªbut it carried with it the weight of something undeniable. Every ear heard him, every heart felt it.


    "You were cast out. Branded heretics. Forced to hide your craft beneath layers of shame and secrecy. They told you necromancy was evil. That your magic was corruption. That the shadows you wielded were chains, not strength."


    He paused, letting the silence stretch, the truth settle like a blade into flesh.


    "They were wrong."


    "They feared what they couldn''t control," Riven continued, his voice like a blade cutting through the stillness. "So they silenced you. Hunted you."


    His gaze moved across the kneeling crowd, sweeping over the Temple acolytes, the onlookers, his people. "But you endured. You carried our craft through the ashes. You remembered when they wanted you to forget. You survived."


    The shadows around him stirred¡ªnot violently, but reverently. As if the kingdom itself were listening.


    Riven turned slightly, arms outstretched, as his voice deepened with purpose. "You are not cursed. You are not broken. You are the rightful heirs of a power older than any throne of Solis. And now¡ª"


    He stepped forward.


    "Now, we rise."


    A surge of abyssal energy pulsed from him, not destructive, but commanding. The air trembled as the sigils lining the walls of the Shadow Kingdom flickered, responding to their king''s call. Magic hummed through the foundations of the city. The pulse of something ancient. Awakening.


    Behind him, the five generals rose in unison, their armor catching the faint light as they took formation around their king. Silent. Unshakable.


    The kneeling citizens began to lift their heads¡ªfaces filled not with fear, but something rarer.


    Hope.


    Elara rose slowly, her movements reverent, almost hesitant. Her eyes shimmered¡ªnot with fear, but with awe¡ªand yet no words left her lips. The truth hadn''t just reached her mind; it was still sinking into her bones, ancient and undeniable, like the echo of a prophecy long forgotten¡­ now fulfilled.


    Riven turned back to the Temple acolytes.


    "You came here thinking to find shelter," he said. "But this is more than sanctuary."


    His voice dropped lower, more intimate¡ªbut no less powerful.


    "This is home."


    Riven took one last look at the kneeling necromancers. "Rise," he commanded gently. "Stand, and be what they tried to erase."


    One by one, they obeyed. Standing taller than they had in years. No longer hunted. No longer hiding.


    Necromancers.


    And now¡ªcitizens of the Shadow Kingdom.


    They were home.

 Chapter 117 - 117: Surprise

    As the crowd began to disperse, the initial wave of cheers fading into murmurs of awe, Riven found himself quickly surrounded by his generals. They gathered around him like loyal hounds left alone for too long¡ªwide-eyed, eager, and just shy of scolding him for staying away for too long.


    "Welcome back, my king," Mal said first, his voice calm, composed. His face was the picture of seriousness¡ªexcept for the way the corners of his lips kept twitching, struggling to contain the grin threatening to break through.


    "You''ve gotten even stronger since you left!" Damon laughed, giving Riven a hearty pat on the shoulder that nearly rattled his bones. "I bet you turned that academy upside down."


    "Rumors of a shadowed fire climbing the power charts reached my spies days ago," Aria added with a knowing smirk. "We knew instantly it was you."


    Their voices blurred for a moment¡ªpraise, relief, affection¡ªbut one among them remained silent.


    Krux.


    Riven''s gaze shifted, and he noticed the warrior standing stiffly to the side, head slightly bowed, golden hair catching the flicker of torch light. The usual gleam in his molten eyes was missing.


    Riven stepped closer, boots scraping against the stone.


    Krux''s head lifted the moment those familiar footsteps entered his vision.


    "Aren''t you going to welcome back your king?" Riven asked, tilting his head slightly.


    Krux blinked. His golden eyes welled with tears.


    "Oh no," Damon muttered, already bracing.


    Then it happened.


    Krux lunged.


    "You were gone forever!" he sobbed, throwing his arms around Riven and clinging like a child to a long-lost parent. "And then I hear about all these duels¡ªthese fights! You didn''t even take me! It''s not fair!" His voice cracked as tears streamed down his face, leaving streaks on Riven''s cloak. "You took her¡ª" he jabbed a finger toward Nyx. "¡ªbut not me!"


    "Her?!" Nyx''s eyes narrowed. "Did you just¡ª"


    "You left me behind and took that witch!" Krux wailed louder.


    That was all the permission Nyx needed.


    "Oh, I see how it is." She grabbed him by the hair with a venomous grin. "You''ve clearly forgotten who trained you. Let''s refresh that memory, shall we?"


    "Noooo¡ªmy king!" Krux cried as Nyx began dragging him off by the scalp, flailing and weeping with all the dignity of a toddler.


    Mal sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "He hasn''t stopped whining since the day you left."


    "So it seems," Riven murmured, brushing a damp spot on his cloak where Krux''s tears had left their mark.


    "Come on," Damon said, clapping Riven on the back. "Ignore the chaos. You''ve only been gone a few months, but we''ve got a kingdom to show you."


    Riven gave a faint nod, his gaze drifting once more across the cityscape as the crowds began to disperse back into alleys and homes, the whispers of his return lingering like embers in the wind. The torches lining the streets flared softly, reacting to the ambient magic that still hummed through the air¡ªechoes of the old kingdom''s heartbeat, revived.


    Damon gestured grandly as he and Mal fell into step beside Riven, the rest of the generals following after¡ªexcept for Krux, who was still being unceremoniously dragged by his hair, whimpering under Nyx''s iron grip.


    They passed through the central district first.


    "This," Damon began proudly, gesturing to a towering structure of obsidian and rune-etched stone, "was once the shattered shell of an old mana anchor. We''ve rebuilt it from the foundation up."


    The structure pulsed faintly, wrapped in intertwining bone-vines and carved with countless sigils that shimmered with ambient light. Runes crawled up its surface like veins, and a low hum thrummed through the air around it¡ªsubtle, steady, alive.


    "It draws in ambient mana," Mal added, stepping beside him. "Stores it. Refines it. And when triggered, it''ll form a dome of pure arcane force over the entire city."


    Damon crossed his arms with satisfaction. "A proper shield. Strong enough to repel a siege or mask our presence entirely if needed. Took a dozen boneweavers and nearly killed three of them, but it''s stable now."


    Riven raised a brow. "Only three? You''re improving." S§×arch* The N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Damon grinned. "Give us another month¡ªwe''ll get the casualty count down to two."


    They moved on, past the forges, where undead blacksmiths hammered glowing blue flame into steel, and the veins of abyssal ore shimmered like lightning beneath their hammers. Living apprentices worked alongside them¡ªchildren of the fallen, reborn into purpose.


    "Where is all the undead coming from?" Riven asked, watching a half-skeletal blacksmith hammer glowing metal with mechanical precision. "I didn''t create them."


    "Since you left, people have been pouring in," Mal replied. "Some are refugees, others are descendants of the original Shadow Kingdom. And then there are those like the group you brought with you¡ªnecromancers, drawn by the rumors."


    "Necromancers?" Riven''s brow arched.


    Damon nodded. "Word''s spreading fast. The Shadow Kingdom''s return has become more than a myth. Necromancers who''ve lived in hiding their whole lives are coming back¡ªfinally somewhere they don''t have to pretend to be something they''re not."


    "They''ve begun raising the fallen from the war," Mal added. "Not as weapons¡ªbut as citizens. Workers. Guards. Craftsmen. They live here now, just like anyone else."


    Riven glanced back toward the skeletal blacksmith as it passed a finished blade to a living apprentice.


    "And it''s helped with trade, too," Mal said, almost amused. "Dead don''t sleep. Turns out, that''s good for business."


    Mal continued as they walked, his tone thoughtful. "Speaking of trade¡ªsince the auction in Eldrin''s Crossing, interest in our herbs has exploded."


    Riven gave a faint nod, pleased. "Good. And the crops?"


    "Thriving," Mal said, his silver eyes gleaming. "The last harvest nearly tripled our expectations. The Abyssal energy is more potent than we originally measured. We''ve had to stagger the planting cycles just to keep up with testing."


    "They''re already preparing for the next shipment," Damon added. "Void Thistle, Etherbloom, Nightshade Marrow¡ªthe usual, but we''ve also got a batch of Bloodroot that nearly fried one of our potion testers." He grinned. "He''s fine. Mostly."


    "And the Ashen Sage?" Riven asked, his tone sharper.


    Mal hesitated. "We haven''t touched it. It''s under constant warding. That thing devours affliction¡­ and mana. Even the test samples made the lab feel wrong."


    Riven hummed low in his throat. "Keep it locked down. For now."


    They passed the edge of the market square, where fresh undead assisted living vendors in setting up merchant stalls. Lanterns glowed a soft violet. The air smelled of dry earth, herbs, and distant forge smoke.


    Aria, walking slightly ahead, glanced over her shoulder. "Trade routes are holding. The road to Eldrin''s Crossing is nearly finished. We''ve had no interference since the last patrol cleared out some bandits."


    Nyx reappeared then, Krux trailing behind her with his hair tousled and expression dazed, like he''d just survived a warzone. She shot a wicked grin at Riven. "He''s been properly reminded of his place."


    Krux sniffled faintly but tried to look dignified. "She fights dirty."


    "You were crying," Damon muttered.


    "I was overwhelmed," Krux snapped.


    "Uh huh."


    They reached the edge of the plaza, where a row of tall, blackstone pillars formed an arc¡ªmarking the threshold of the central district.


    Mal glanced sideways at Damon, who gave a nod.


    "What is it?" Riven asked, catching the exchange.


    Damon smirked. "We''ve got something to show you. A surprise."


    Riven raised a brow. "Surprise?"


    "You''ll like this one," Mal said, his voice oddly pleased.


    The generals came to a halt in the center of the plaza.


    A soft shimmer pulsed through the air, and Riven felt it immediately¡ªmagic. A glamour spell.


    Mal stepped forward and lifted a hand, speaking a brief incantation.


    The illusion peeled back like gauze from a wound.


    And beneath it¡ª


    A Palace.


    Half-finished, rising from obsidian foundations, its great black towers reached toward the sky like jagged teeth. Runed scaffolding crisscrossed the structure, glowing softly with stabilizing enchantments. The main gate was framed by twin statues of robed, faceless figures, their hands outstretched in welcome¡ªor warning.


    The skeletal framework of the central keep glistened faintly under the night sky, shaped from darksteel and shadow-forged stone. Balconies, walkways, arched bridges¡ªevery inch of the design spoke of elegance and dread, power and permanence.


    Long banners had already been strung between the upper towers, snapping softly in the wind. Each one bore the crest of the Shadow Kingdom: a dark shield emblazoned with a silver crown at its center, encircled by skeletal arms reaching hungrily toward it. It was a symbol not just of rule, but of reclamation¡ªof something once lost now held tightly in the grasp of the dead and the risen.


    Riven stared.


    Not at the beauty of it.


    But at what it meant.


    A true home.


    "We started construction after the first few payments from the herb sales came in," Mal said quietly. "Didn''t want to mention it until we were sure the mana¡ªand the coin¡ªwould hold steady."


    "It''s still under construction," Damon added, "but the wards are in place. And we''ve reinforced the anchor lines¡ªthis place will stand even if Solis comes knocking."


    Riven stepped forward slowly, each footfall echoing softly against the polished stone. His eyes swept over the structure rising before him¡ªtowering spires of shadow-forged obsidian, arches veined with faintly glowing runes, and banners stitched with his crest fluttering in the breeze like whispers of a legacy reborn.


    It wasn''t just a palace.


    It was a promise carved into the heart of a once-fallen kingdom.


    His kingdom.


    Behind him, the generals fell into reverent silence, watching as their king stood before the home they''d built for him.


    And for the first time since his return¡­


    Riven smiled. A quiet, rare smile¡ªsharp at the edges, but real.

 Chapter 118 - 118: Plans

    Damon exhaled, his arms crossed as he watched Riven take in the sight before him. "Not bad, huh?"


    "Better than I expected," Riven admitted, his voice quieter than usual. He turned his head slightly. "How much of it is finished?"


    "The main structure is solid," Mal answered, stepping beside him. "The throne room, the war chamber, and the private quarters are complete. Most of the lower halls and outer defenses are still being reinforced."


    Aria tilted her head. "Would you like to see inside, my king?"


    Riven said nothing, but he stepped forward. The answer was clear.


    The massive obsidian doors swung open at a mere gesture from Mal, revealing a grand entry hall lined with towering columns, their surfaces etched with delicate abyssal veins that pulsed faintly in the dim torchlight. The ceiling arched high above them and the floor was polished blackstone, smooth as a mirror, reflecting the flickering violet glow of enchanted lanterns.


    A long, deep carpet led from the entrance to the heart of the palace¡ªa grand staircase that split into twin spiraling paths leading to the upper floors.


    "The throne room is ahead," Mal gestured toward the great doors at the end of the hall. "But we can tour that later. You should see your quarters first."


    Riven followed without protest, his generals falling into place beside him. Their boots barely made a sound against the stone as they ascended the stairs, moving through corridors lined with high archways and rune-etched sconces that cast a soft, perpetual glow.


    His quarters were at the highest level of the palace, set apart from the others. Mal stopped before the massive double doors, their surfaces marked with intertwining runes.


    "The wards are keyed to you alone," Mal said, placing a hand against the door. "No one enters unless you allow it."


    Riven stepped forward, resting his palm against the carved runes. The door shuddered, recognizing him immediately. A pulse of dark light rippled outward, and with a deep, resonant click, the doors swung open.


    Inside, the chamber was vast. A high ceiling stretched above him, lined with ribbed arches of shadow-forged steel. One entire wall was made of darkened glass, overlooking the city below. Energy hummed faintly through the walls, woven into the very foundation.


    The furniture was minimal but elegant¡ªdeep-toned wood, silver-trimmed furnishings, and a massive bed draped in black and crimson silk. A hearth, lined with runes, flickered with blue flame.


    Damon let out an approving whistle. "Not bad. Almost makes me wish I lived here instead of my own room."


    "You do live here," Aria deadpanned. "We all do."


    Nyx stretched, looking entirely too pleased with herself. "Oh yes, we each have our own chambers¡ªthough I do think Krux''s is a bit too nice for someone who whines so much."


    Krux, still slightly frazzled, merely grumbled something under his breath.


    Riven turned slightly, glancing at them. "Your rooms are in the same wing?"


    "Of course," Mal nodded. "Close enough for convenience. Secluded enough for privacy."


    "And the war room?"


    Aria gestured toward the corridor leading away from the main chambers. "Two floors below. We made sure to keep it reinforced¡ªshould anything go wrong, it''ll be one of the most secure places in the palace."


    Riven exhaled, gaze drifting back to the towering windows. The city sprawled below, its lights flickering in the dark like stars reflected in a vast abyss.


    Home.


    He turned back to his generals, their expectant eyes watching him closely.


    "Well?" Damon asked, grinning. "What do you think?"


    Riven stepped forward, letting his fingers brush against the carved railing of the balcony. His expression was unreadable for a long moment.


    Then, quietly¡ª


    "It will do."


    The tension in the room eased instantly. Damon laughed. Mal let out a small, knowing sigh. Aria smirked.


    Nyx rolled her eyes. "Typical."


    Krux, still slightly sulking, brightened just a little. "So you like it?"


    Riven glanced at him. "I wouldn''t be standing here if I didn''t."


    Krux beamed.


    Mal folded his arms. "Rest for the night. Tomorrow, we''ll go over everything properly¡ªtrade, infrastructure, expansion plans."


    Riven gave a faint nod. He was exhausted, but there was no denying the satisfaction simmering beneath his fatigue.


    He was home.


    ¡ªx¡ª


    Morning came quietly. The city stirred with the first signs of life¡ªmerchants setting up their stalls, smiths stoking their forges, the living and the undead moving side by side as they worked to rebuild what had once been lost.


    Riven stood on the balcony of his new quarters, watching. The distant hum of the mana anchor pulsed faintly through the air, a steady heartbeat beneath the surface of the kingdom. The view stretched far¡ªpast the market, past the growing infrastructure, past the walls that now stood reinforced against whatever the world might throw at them.


    His city.


    A knock at the door drew his attention.


    Mal entered first, followed by Damon, who stretched with a lazy grin. "Time to work, my king."


    Riven turned. "The necromancers?"


    "Waiting in the lower district," Mal confirmed. "They''ve been settled in temporary housing near the market square. Not the most elegant arrangement, but the new apartments aren''t finished yet."


    "They''re making do," Damon added. "But they''ve been asking for you. They want to know what comes next."


    Riven nodded once. "Then let''s not keep them waiting."


    ¡ªx¡ª


    The streets were still quiet in the early morning as Riven and his generals made their way through the central district. The air held the cool bite of dawn, laced with the scent of smoke and fresh bread. Shadows stretched long between buildings, and every few steps, a living merchant or skeletal courier bowed in passing.


    When they reached the lower district, the sound of quiet conversation met them.


    Dozens of figures were gathered outside a row of reinforced barracks¡ªtemporary housing fashioned from salvaged stone and darkwood, arranged in a neat line beside the market square. Despite the humble structures, the aura of power was unmistakable. These weren''t refugees. They were necromancers¡ªcloaked in robes, bearing arcane brands and bone-carved tools, their presence radiating quiet control.


    Elara stood at the center, her back straight, her dark hair braided and draped over one shoulder. She wore simpler robes today, practical but elegant. Her staff was slung across her back, warded and wrapped, but still humming with latent power.


    She turned the moment she sensed him.


    Her expression didn''t shift into a smile, but her eyes softened.


    "My king," she said, her voice carrying through the square. sea??h th§× N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The necromancers turned as one. Conversations died. Movement stilled.


    Riven stepped into the square, his presence drawing every gaze like gravity.


    "Elara," he greeted, nodding once. "I trust you''ve been adjusting."


    She inclined her head. "It''s not a palace, but it''s more than we expected. The wards are holding, and the citizens haven''t interfered."


    "They won''t," Riven said. "You''re part of this kingdom now."


    A flicker of emotion crossed her face at that¡ªtoo fleeting to name. She stepped forward, lowering her voice as the two walked a short distance apart from the others.


    "You could''ve warned me, you know," Elara huffed, folding her arms. Then her cheeks flushed a faint pink. "I was rambling like some wide-eyed apprentice the entire journey¡ªgoing on and on about how brilliant the Shadow King was." She groaned, burying her face in one hand. "And it was you the whole time!"


    "It wasn''t the right time," Riven said, trying¡ªand mostly failing¡ªnot to smirk. "I needed to make sure you all arrived safely first. Then we could talk."


    He tilted his head slightly, his tone shifting. "How are the others? The necromancers¡ªare they adjusting?"


    "They''re loyal," she said quietly. "And grateful. But they''re also uncertain. They''ve spent their whole lives being hunted, Riven. They don''t know how to be anything else."


    "They''ll learn," he said.


    Elara studied him for a moment, then gave a faint nod. "Some of them have already asked if they''ll be permitted to teach. To train. Others want to know what role necromancy will truly have here."


    Riven turned toward the gathered necromancers, letting his gaze sweep across them¡ªmen and women who had hidden their gifts in fear, who had crossed borders and defied their kingdom to be here.


    He raised his voice just enough to carry.


    "Necromancy is not a curse in this kingdom. It is a foundation. You are not guests. You are pillars. And I intend to build something that ensures the world never forgets that again."


    A murmur rippled through the crowd.


    Elara arched a brow. "What exactly are you planning?" she asked, though there was a flicker of recognition in her eyes¡ªlike she already knew the answer. "An academy? Here, in the Shadow Kingdom?"


    Riven nodded. "Eventually. A place of learning, of mastery. It will be rooted in necromancy¡ªbut open to all who live under our banner. We''ll teach magic, warcraft, medicine¡ªwhatever our people need to thrive."


    "And you want me to lead it?" Elara asked, voice careful.


    "I want you to shape it," Riven said. "Guide it. Make it more than just a school¡ªmake it a legacy."


    Elara was silent for a long breath. Then, slowly, she smiled.


    "Then I''ll begin planning immediately."


    He inclined his head. "You''ll have what you need."


    Behind them, the necromancers stood straighter.


    Not just because of what had been said.


    But because¡ªfor the first time¡ªthey were being seen not as tools.


    But as builders of something greater.


    Riven turned away from the gathering, Mal falling into step beside him.


    "You really mean to start building it?" Mal asked quietly.


    "Yes," Riven replied. "Soon."


    He looked toward the eastern skyline, where the sun was just beginning to rise over the mountains, casting long shadows behind the growing walls of his kingdom.


    A new day had come.


    And the real work had only just begun.


    ¡ªx¡ª


    By late morning, the palace''s war chamber buzzed with quiet activity. Arcane maps shimmered atop the central obsidian table, glowing with projected mana lines¡ªroads, patrol routes, farmland boundaries, and infrastructure zones¡ªall laid out in flickering detail. Riven stood at the head of the table, flanked by his generals, each reporting on their assigned sectors.


    Damon leaned forward, one arm braced on the edge of the table as he traced a glowing thread that curved from the southern gate to the far-off symbol of a wagon. "The roads have held so far," he said. "We''ve had to reinforce the path to Eldrin''s Crossing twice¡ªdamned rains nearly washed it out¡ªbut the new drainage runes seem to be holding."


    "Merchant traffic?" Riven asked.


    Damon grinned. "Increasing. Word of the herbs is spreading faster than we anticipated. Caravans from Eldrin''s Crossing are starting to arrive more frequently¡ªand with better quality goods in tow. We''ve even had inquiries from lesser trade houses in the Solis fringe territories."


    Mal, arms crossed and eyes sharp, added, "That''s why we need to accelerate infrastructure. The lower quarter can''t handle this much traffic without reinforcement. The temporary docks we built on the shadowflats are already overcrowded."


    Aria flicked her fingers, rotating the map projection. "We''ll need to expand the merchant ward southward. I''ve already marked three suitable zones for permanent market structures."


    Riven considered that in silence. Then, with a faint nod, "Do it. Prioritize materials we can source locally. I want to avoid depending on outside imports too heavily."


    Damon cleared his throat, expression tightening slightly. "Speaking of outside influence¡­ Duke Deveroux has requested another meeting."


    Riven''s gaze shifted. "Again?"


    "This makes five requests in the past month," Damon said, his tone dry. "He says he wants to ''further refine our arrangement.'' But if I had to guess¡­" He leaned back with a snort. "He wants more herbs. Probably exclusive access to more than just medicinal exports."


    "He''s testing the waters," Mal murmured. "Seeing how far he can reach before we push back."


    "He won''t stop," Aria added. "Not until he thinks he has the upper hand."


    Riven''s expression didn''t change, but the shadows at his feet thickened slightly.


    "Let him wait a little longer," Riven said quietly. "Not out of discourtesy¡ªbut to remind him we''re not the ones seeking favor."


    Krux, who had been uncharacteristically silent near the back of the room, finally piped up. "Still, wouldn''t it be smart to meet him again? Keep the peace while we get more construction done?"


    Riven didn''t dismiss the suggestion outright. He turned, gazing toward the southern edge of the map where merchant routes flowed like veins into the city.


    "We will," he said at last. "But on our terms. Once the new market district is finished, we''ll host him here. Let him see what his investment has created firsthand."


    Damon gave a slow nod. "He won''t miss that invitation."


    "And he won''t forget who extended it," Mal added.


    The projection shifted again as Riven moved his hand, displaying the farmland plots next. Thin veins of abyssal soil stretched out from the center of the kingdom like a growing spiderweb¡ªslow, deliberate, spreading one inch at a time.


    "Expansion?" Riven asked.


    Mal stepped forward. "It''s slow. Your ability keeps it stable, but we''re limited by how much mana you can safely expend. We''ve been alternating sections¡ªletting one stretch settle while the next is seeded."


    "The crops?"


    "Flourishing. Etherbloom and Void Thistle have entered second-stage flowering. Bloodroot is stabilizing. The Ashen Sage is¡­ still locked away."


    Damon raised a brow. "You sure you don''t want to just feed a bit of it to Duke Deveroux and see what happens?"


    Riven shot him a look.


    Damon shrugged. "Kidding. Mostly."


    Krux cleared his throat. "And the roads to the outposts?"


    "They''re being paved in reinforced stone," Aria replied. "Harder to damage. Slower to build. But they''ll last through war, weather, or worse."


    Riven stepped back from the table, letting the full projection linger in the center of the chamber. His city. His kingdom. Slowly awakening, piece by piece.


    "Assign more workers to the southern merchant district," he ordered. "Bring in stonecutters from the trade caravans if they''re skilled. Offer them housing and coin."


    "And what about the auction?" Mal asked, tilting his head. "There''s another scheduled in Eldrin''s Crossing next week."


    Riven''s gaze sharpened. "We''ll attend. Quietly. Let the mystery build for a little longer."


    The chamber settled into silence again, the map pulsing with ambient mana as if echoing the breath of the kingdom itself.


    Outside, the kingdom stirred¡ªblacksmiths pounding metal, necromancers walking the streets with purpose, merchants haggling and children laughing beneath banners marked by shadow.


    Everything was falling into place.

 Chapter 119 - 119: Sassy

    The sun had barely crested the horizon when the training grounds stirred to life.


    Set in the northern quarter beyond the palace walls, the open arena sprawled beneath the shadow of obsidian towers. The ground was packed dark earth, etched with old runes that pulsed faintly as combat spells discharged and echoed off the walls.


    Riven stood at the edge of the training field, his arms folded as he watched two Shadow Knights spar in silence¡ªblades gleaming, footwork precise, neither giving ground. Around them, more knights moved through drills under the supervision of instructors, both living and undead.


    But it wasn''t the knights that held his focus.


    Beyond the ring, twenty figures stood in perfect formation.


    His undead.


    The ones he had personally raised.


    They were not like the others¡ªthere was no mistaking that. Though their bodies bore the marks of death¡ªbone showing through worn armor, runes carved into exposed ribs and skulls¡ªthey moved with fluid grace. Shadows clung to their forms like cloaks, and their eyes glowed faintly with residual soulfire.


    These were not mindless corpses. They were remnants of the old kingdom¡ªcommanders, historians, spellmasters, artisans. Riven had not simply raised soldiers. He had brought back the legacy of the Shadow Kingdom itself.


    "Varric," Riven called.


    One of the undead stepped forward. Taller than the others, clad in fractured silver plate, Varric bowed with mechanical precision. "My king."


    "How are the new recruits progressing?"


    Varric tilted his head, his jaw moving with quiet deliberation. "They are green. Fearful. But not useless. The talent is there¡ªif honed properly."


    Another voice chimed in¡ªrough and amused. "They''ll need to be bloodied. You don''t learn in silence. You learn when you''re one misstep from being torn apart."


    A shorter figure stepped into view. Her robes were stained with ink, not blood, and bone-chains clinked softly at her waist. Her name had once been Lyssara, a necromancer-scholar who had penned the first codices on soulforging before Solis had burned her alive.


    Riven gave a faint nod. "And the others?"


    "They''ve taken well to teaching," Varric said. "Your command was clear¡ªthey do not simply train warriors. They pass on what was lost."


    "Some of the living even listen," Lyssara said, dry. "That''s more than we could say before."


    Riven allowed himself a faint nod of approval. "Good. They''ll need it. We''re not just building a defense¡ªwe''re laying the foundation for something that will endure and evolve."


    One of the others stepped forward then¡ªbroad-shouldered and helmed in jagged blacksteel. His name had once been Durn, a war-forger who had crafted the kingdom''s siege constructs by hand. Now, even in undeath, he still carried a hammer at his belt.


    "We''ve finished reforging the northern barricade," Durn rumbled, voice like a shifting mountain. "We''ve added blood wards to the framework. If something comes through without permission¡­ it''ll burn."


    "Perfect," Riven said. "You''ve done well."


    The undead did not smile. But the way they shifted¡ªthe way their stances eased slightly¡ªspoke volumes. They did not crave praise, but they understood its weight.


    He moved among them now, speaking to each in turn. A brief nod from Aneth, the illusionist who now taught stealth magic to young recruits. A quiet update from Talien, once the kingdom''s quartermaster, now managing supply lines without sleep or complaint. Each had their purpose.


    Each had chosen to rise again for this.


    When Riven finally stepped back, his gaze sweeping the field, he found all twenty undead warriors watching him with burning eyes.


    "Soon," he said quietly. "The world will look to this place not with fear¡ªbut wonder and maybe even fear. They will see a kingdom that cannot be erased."


    A low murmur of agreement swept through the group. Not words. But resonance. A soul-deep vow.


    Riven turned away then, walking from the training field as the undead returned to their duties without command. They knew what was expected of them.


    And they hadn''t failed him yet.


    ¡ªx¡ª


    Riven''s cloak stirred in the wind as he descended the stone stairs leading away from the training grounds. His expression was unreadable, but the silence that followed him was not empty¡ªit was watchful.


    Behind him, Ember followed.


    Her boots made no sound on the blackstone path, and her steps were measured, almost too controlled for someone who was so young. Her eyes, however, glowed faintly with undead fire¡ªan ember nestled in an endless dark. She had been quiet, as always, lingering like a second shadow behind Riven since his return.


    She hadn''t spoken once.


    Not until now.


    "You know, it''s rude to walk off and leave your sister trailing behind like some lost ghost."


    Riven didn''t stop walking, but one brow arched. "You weren''t exactly trying to be noticed."


    Ember huffed and caught up in two long strides, her crimson gaze flicking sideways to glare at him. "Maybe I was giving you time. You were doing your whole broody king routine."


    "Was I?" he murmured.


    "Yes. All the silence. All the shadow-glowering. Very dramatic. You should teach a class."


    Riven glanced at her, amused despite himself. "Maybe I will. You can be my first student."


    "Hard pass," she shot back, but her lips twitched.


    They crossed into the upper courtyard where the blackstone towers rose higher, catching the late morning light in jagged silhouettes. The generals were already gathered near the edge, overlooking the expansion to the south. Krux was fidgeting with his gauntlets, Aria stood rigid as a statue, Mal reviewed a floating blueprint projection, and Damon was, predictably, snacking on dried fruit with zero shame.


    They all turned as Riven approached, instinctively falling into that quiet alertness only warriors knew¡ªsharp eyes, measured breath, tension just beneath the surface.


    But their attention didn''t linger on him.


    It slid past him.


    To the figure trailing in his shadow.


    To Ember.


    And in that instant, the air shifted¡ªlike the pressure before a storm. Conversations died mid-breath. Damon''s easy posture straightened. Mal''s illusion blueprints flickered and vanished. Even Aria''s sharp gaze narrowed further, and Krux''s hands fell still at his sides.


    She wasn''t just another undead.


    They could all feel it.


    Something about her presence gnawed at the edges of instinct and memory¡ªlike standing too close to a flame that shouldn''t exist.


    "Ah," Riven said, glancing between them. "I suppose I haven''t introduced you yet."


    The generals straightened subtly, attention sharpening. sea??h th§× N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Damon scratched the back of his neck. "Well¡­ we did notice you had something glued to your side since you got back," he admitted, eyes flicking to Ember. "Figured you''d say something when the time was right."


    Their expressions flickered¡ªcuriosity sharpening into something deeper.


    "She''s undead," Aria stated, voice flat. Not a question.


    Mal''s eyes narrowed slightly, scanning Ember from head to toe. "But not like the others."


    "Definitely not like the others," Damon muttered. "There''s something¡­ off about her mana signature. Like it''s twisted around something deeper."


    Krux tilted his head. "She doesn''t feel hollow like the rest."


    "No," Nyx finally said, her voice calm, even. "Because she''s not a typical raise. Riven didn''t just reanimate her."


    That earned a beat of silence.


    Riven exhaled through his nose. "This is Ember. Ember Drakar."


    Damon blinked. "Drakar¡­?"


    "My half-sister," Riven confirmed.


    Now the silence stretched longer.


    Aria''s brow arched ever so slightly. "You killed your sister?"


    "I did," Riven said flatly. "And then I brought her back¡­ and even brought back a little more than normal."


    Mal''s jaw clenched just enough to betray his shock. "You searched the Abyss for a fragment of her soul."


    Nyx gave a half-shrug. "Told you he was insane."


    Krux looked between them all, then to Ember. "Wait¡ªyou went into the Abyss and pulled a soul out? That''s even possible?!"


    "No," Mal muttered. "Not unless you''re insane¡­ or Riven, I guess."


    Ember stepped forward then, folding her arms, her expression unimpressed. "You all talk like I''m not standing right here."


    Krux blinked. "Sorry. It''s just¡­ we''ve seen undead. We''ve seen soulforging. But this?"


    "Yeah, yeah, I''m special," Ember said, waving a hand. "You can stop staring. I''m not going to bite. Unless you give me a reason to."


    Damon chuckled under his breath.


    "She''s stable," Riven said. "The tether holds. Her mind is intact."


    "For now," Nyx added with a crooked grin. "Though she''s sassier than when she was alive."


    "That''s because I don''t have to be polite anymore," Ember said sweetly.


    Krux grinned. "I like her."


    Aria sighed. "Of course you do."


    Riven''s gaze swept over his generals, watching the shock give way to grudging acceptance¡ªor at least curiosity. They didn''t fully understand it yet. But they would.


    "Alright, enough of the dramatic revelations," Nyx groaned, stretching her arms behind her head. "Can we please go to Vera''s already? I''m starving, and I haven''t had a single drop of mead in months. I''m practically wasting away."


    Several hopeful gazes immediately turned to Riven¡ªtoo synchronized, too expectant.


    He stared at them flatly. Like a pack of oversized hounds waiting for scraps.


    He sighed. "Fine. Just for this afternoon. But don''t get used to it¡ªwe''ve got too much to do to make lounging at Vera''s a daily routine."


    A chorus of triumphant cheers broke out, followed by light laughter as the group began moving toward the bustling heart of the city.


    And though Riven didn''t say a word more, a faint grin tugged at the corner of his mouth¡ªsmall, but unmistakably real.

 Chapter 120 - 120: Vera’s Tavern

    Vera''s tavern was packed by the time they arrived¡ªbut not with the usual crowd of wandering mercenaries, boisterous traders, or grim Shadow Knights nursing mead in silence.


    No¡ªthis was something different.


    The moment Riven stepped through the tavern doors, a wave of noise and color slammed into him like a spell.


    "Surprise!"


    The shout echoed from dozens of voices¡ªsome familiar, others new. Laughter followed, warm and real, spilling out into the street like light through a crack in a shutter. Candles flared brighter, banners of painted silk unfurling from the rafters with perfect timing.


    Riven froze.


    Truly froze.


    The space beyond the doorway was no longer just a tavern¡ªit had been transformed. Long tables were pushed together, laden with steaming platters: roasted meats, golden bread, honey-glazed roots, and dark stew that shimmered faintly with magical spices. Vera''s band¡ªa ragtag collection of musicians with questionable training but undeniable charm¡ªwas already striking up a playful tune in the corner.


    Enchanted ribbons wove through the air above their heads, glowing with dim blue and violet hues, flickering like gentle flames. And high above the center beam of the tavern, suspended in a slow swirl of shadows and firelight, a glowing script hovered.


    Happy 18th, Your Majesty.


    He blinked. Once. Twice.


    Riven hadn''t spoken, hadn''t moved. His body registered the surprise¡ªbut his mind lagged behind. It was like his thoughts were caught in the undertow of a moment too surreal to believe.


    Ember, still hovering just behind him, leaned in and tilted her head. "Okay, so¡­ I might''ve mentioned it was your birthday. Recently. Maybe. Just a little."


    Riven didn''t respond.


    Not because he was trying to be dramatic¡ªbut because he genuinely didn''t know what to say.


    "You all¡­ planned this?" he asked quietly.


    Damon clapped him on the back with a grin. "Hell yeah, we did. You only turn eighteen once¡ªeven if you try to pretend it doesn''t matter."


    "I''ve never¡­" Riven trailed off. His gaze flicked across the room¡ªto Vera behind the bar, beaming with pride; to Krux and Mal, already nudging each other toward the dessert table; to the crowd of necromancers, knights, merchants, even children all gathered together in celebration.


    Even in his past life, birthdays had come and gone like any other day. No parties. No smiles. Just silence.


    He had never expected anything different. Sear?h the ¦Çov§×lFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Which made this¡ªthis warmth, this effort¡ªutterly disarming.


    "I''ve never had one," he said at last, his voice barely above a whisper. "A birthday celebration."


    There was a beat of silence¡ªthen Vera, from behind the bar, barked a laugh. "Well, it''s about time someone fixed that!"


    "To hell with the past," Damon said, raising a mug. "This one''s for the present."


    "And the future," Mal added, toasting him with a faint smirk.


    Aria gave the smallest nod. Nyx raised her mug high. Krux actually whooped.


    "To Riven!" they called out in unison. "To the Shadow King!"


    He felt the press of dozens of eyes¡ªfaces glowing with laughter, hope, and something heavier beneath it all.


    Trust.


    Faith.


    Riven lifted his mug¡ªthough the movement felt distant, like he was watching someone else''s hand rise.


    "To what we''ve built," he said, voice low. "And what we still have to become."


    The roar of approval shook the walls.


    The party surged forward after that. Music filled the room, wild and too-loud, exactly the way Vera liked it. Nyx pulled Krux into a dance he was far too clumsy to perform, while Ember slunk off to sample every dessert with the air of a teen with nothing to lose. Aria stood back, sipping her drink with quiet satisfaction. Mal managed to argue with three different people about the best herb to distill into wine. Damon was arm-wrestling two knights at once.


    And in the midst of it all¡ªRiven stood still for a long moment.


    Watching.


    Listening.


    Letting it settle in.


    He hadn''t known what to expect when he came back. Hadn''t thought he needed things like this.


    But as a quiet smile pulled at the corners of his mouth he realized something strange.


    He felt it now.


    Not just power. Not just control.


    But something warmer.


    Something that hadn''t been part of his soul in a very, very long time.


    Belonging.


    And for the first time in either life, Riven allowed himself to enjoy it.


    ¡ªx¡ª


    The scent of spiced meat and firewood filled the tavern air as the celebration carried on. Shadows danced along the walls in time with the music, and laughter crackled like flame between every table. Riven drifted from group to group, pulled into quiet conversations or brief congratulations, but it was never overwhelming.


    Some part of him still lingered at the edge¡ªwatching from the shadows of his own mind like a ghost tethered to memory.


    It was the part that remembered the cold floor of a forgotten room, the silence of betrayal, the weight of a life discarded before it had even begun. It was the part that had learned to survive by expecting nothing, by trusting no one, by keeping his heart caged behind walls of fire and shadow.


    Even now, surrounded by warmth and laughter, by the scent of roasted meat and flickering lanternlight, that piece of him stood apart¡ªcautious. Quiet.


    Still remembering what it was to be alone.


    A necromancer acolyte approached shyly, holding out a carved token shaped like a flame-wreathed crown. "For your birthday, Your Majesty," she said, voice trembling slightly. "I made it myself."


    Riven accepted it without a word. The token was rough, a little uneven, but the mana etched into its center was surprisingly steady.


    "Thank you," he said, and the girl nearly dropped her staff in stunned joy before scurrying off to tell the others.


    He stared at the token for a beat longer, then tucked it into the folds of his cloak.


    "A gift, huh?" Nyx said, appearing at his side with a crooked grin and two mugs in hand. "You looked like it was going to bite you."


    "I just wasn''t expecting it," Riven muttered.


    "You never do," she said, handing him a mug. "But you''ll get used to it. They''re not just following you anymore, you know. They care."


    He didn''t reply. Just took a slow sip and let the heat settle in his chest.


    Across the room, Vera was waving someone off as she reached under the bar for something wrapped in cloth. With a flourish, she lifted it¡ªan obsidian-handled dagger, sleek and ceremonial, the blade etched with the sigil of the Shadow Kingdom and dotted with small onyx gems.


    She made her way over and presented it with a grin. "Happy birthday, Riven. It''s not a sword, but I figured you have enough of those."


    Riven took the blade, testing its weight. It was perfectly balanced. Not for war, but for ceremony¡ªa symbol. A reminder.


    "It''s beautiful," he said simply.


    Vera''s smile faltered just enough for sincerity to slip through. "You''ve given us all more than we could repay. Consider it our way of saying thank you."


    Riven looked at her, then at the others¡ªhis generals, his people, his kingdom¡ªand a flicker of something tight gripped his chest. He hadn''t done it for gratitude. He hadn''t rebuilt this place for praise or loyalty. At the start, it had all been about power. About control. About proving that no one could break him again.


    He had clawed his way back from nothing with the single-minded goal of becoming the most powerful mage this world had ever seen. He was going to bend the world to his will, and damn anyone who stood in the way.


    But somewhere along the way¡­ things had shifted.


    The more his kingdom grew, the more faces he remembered, the more names he learned¡ªthe harder it became to keep pretending he didn''t care.


    Damon''s loud laugh. Aria''s quiet judgment. Krux''s hopeful eyes. Mal''s calm insight. Nyx''s smirking defiance.


    And even Ember, with her sharp tongue and sharper gaze, never leaving his side.


    They weren''t just pieces in his plan anymore.


    They were part of him now.


    And for the first time, he wasn''t sure if that made him stronger¡­ or more vulnerable.


    But as he stood there, surrounded by the sounds of laughter, music, and clinking mugs, he realized one thing:


    He was still standing.


    And maybe¡­ he wasn''t standing alone anymore.


    "I''ll wear it proudly," he said finally.


    A sudden crash echoed from the corner of the tavern as Ember knocked over an entire tray of glazed buns.


    "Whoops," she said unapologetically, licking syrup off her fingers as the tray clattered to the floor. "My bad."


    Riven only shook his head as laughter broke out again.


    It was imperfect.


    The tables were mismatched, the music too loud, and someone had already spilled wine on the floor. Laughter echoed off stone walls that had once been crumbled and broken. Plates clattered, voices overlapped, and Ember was arguing with a bard over cake portions.


    It was chaotic.


    Unruly. Unscripted. Filled with moments he couldn''t control¡ªcould never have planned for.


    And yet¡­


    It was his.


    His kingdom, carved from ruin and reborn in shadow.


    His people, proud and unyielding, standing not from command¡ªbut conviction.


    His family¡ªflawed, battle-worn, and bound by something deeper than blood.


    For the first time in eighteen years¡ªthrough two lives and more pain than he could name¡ªRiven didn''t feel like he was surviving.


    He felt like he was living.


    And tonight, that was enough.

 Chapter 121 - 121: Fourth Circle

    The morning after the celebration dawned soft and grey, the skies veiled with mist that clung to the spires of the obsidian palace. The streets of the Shadow Kingdom stirred slowly, as though even the undead had been lulled by the warmth of the night before.


    Riven stood in the war chamber, eyes distant as he gazed at the updated projections of his kingdom''s growth¡ªmana lines pulsing faintly over black stone, trade routes etched with light, farmland slowly overtaken by his abyss-touched soil.


    But his mind wasn''t on roads or crops.


    It was on his mana heart.


    "I''ll be beginning my ascent to the Fourth Mana Circle today," Riven said at last, his gaze sweeping over the room, settling on each of his generals. "The next phase of the kingdom''s growth is going to demand far more mana than I currently possess. I need to advance¡ªquickly."


    Mal''s eyes widened slightly. "You''re already that close to a breakthrough?"


    The others turned, expressions shifting to varying degrees of surprise and awe.


    "Not that shocking," Damon muttered under his breath. "He absorbs mana like a beast."


    Riven ignored the comment, continuing, "I''ll be out of commission for a few days while I ascend. I''ll need you all to handle things in my absence¡ªjust like when I was at the Academy."


    "We will, my king," they answered together, their voices firm.


    "I''ll stay behind and guard the chamber," Damon offered without hesitation. "Krux can join me. We''ll make sure no one interrupts the process."


    "We constructed a new row of reinforced training rooms by the barracks," Krux added quickly, already eager to be useful. "Sealed and rune-protected."


    "Perfect," Riven nodded once. "Then let''s not waste any more time."


    He turned without another word, Damon and Krux falling into step beside him as the others returned to their tasks.


    ¡ªx¡ª


    The halls of the palace echoed with their footsteps as Riven, Damon, and Krux moved through shadow-forged corridors toward the barracks. The lanterns along the walls glowed with violet fire, casting flickering silhouettes that danced behind them like wraiths.


    Outside, the mist had begun to lift, revealing the blackstone towers and fortified walls of the Shadow Kingdom in full. Merchants stirred to life, undead sentinels resumed their patrols, and the hum of progress began anew. But Riven''s mind remained inward¡ªfocused on the throbbing of his mana heart like a cup that was about to spill over.


    They passed the main training yard, where Shadow Knights were already forming ranks, steel clashing against steel in measured drills. A few paused at the sight of their king, bowing low as he passed, but Riven gave no indication he noticed. He was already drawing his mana inward¡ªpreparing.


    The newly constructed wing of training chambers loomed ahead, built into the blackstone foundations just beyond the main barracks. Its entrance was sealed by a pair of thick, rune-etched doors, flanked by skeletal guards who stepped aside without a word.


    Krux moved forward, placing his hand on the embedded sigil. "Chambers are keyed to our mana signature, my king. No one enters unless we allow it."


    The door rumbled, then creaked open, revealing a vast interior chamber reinforced with obsidian-veined stone. The walls shimmered faintly with protective enchantments. In the center, a wide circular platform had been inscribed with ancient glyphs¡ªetched to amplify and contain volatile mana during a breakthrough.


    Riven stepped into the center of the circle, his cloak billowing behind him before settling against his frame. He took one slow breath, then removed it, folding it neatly and placing it beside a crate of mana potions and etherbloom extracts.


    "You''ll remain guard?" he asked without looking up.


    "Of course," Damon said, his tone firm. "No one''s getting near you while you ascend."


    Krux nodded, already sealing the door behind them. "We''ll keep the chamber locked down. Even if Solis sends a damn dragon."


    Riven gave a short nod. "Good."


    He sat cross-legged in the center of the circle, shadows curling around him like smoke. The hum of ambient mana began to rise, reacting to the command of its master.


    "Do not open the door," he said calmly. "No matter what you hear."


    Damon placed a fist over his chest. "Understood."


    Riven closed his eyes.


    [[ Mana Heart Expansion Ready ]]


    [[ Initiate Fourth Circle Formation? ]]


    [[ Yes/No]]


    [[ Yes ]]


    The moment Riven accepted, the world peeled away.


    ¡ªx¡ª


    There was no transition. No flash of light or pull of weight.


    Just silence.


    Then¡ª


    Sound. sea??h th§× ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Screams. Steel. The roar of beasts. The clash of mana.


    Heat exploded across his senses as the world reassembled¡ªviolent, overwhelming. He landed hard on scorched earth, boots skidding against a field choked with ash and smoke. The sky above was a haze of fire and falling embers, blood-red clouds streaking across the heavens. Mangled bodies lay in every direction¡ªboth armored knights and scorched undead. Siege engines belched fire in the distance.


    Riven sucked in a breath, the stench of war and blood immediately filling his lungs.


    He stood in the heart of a battlefield¡ªchaos stretching endlessly in every direction. The ground beneath his boots was scorched and blood-soaked, the soil cracked and steaming from recent magic. Arrows hissed overhead. Distant siege fire rumbled like thunder. Screams tore through the smoke-choked air, blending with the clash of steel and the roar of beasts.


    And yet, amidst it all, he stood alone.


    Not as a king.


    Just a solitary figure¡ªone shadow among thousands.


    His armor was blackened, dented, forged for function, not ceremony. It clung to his frame like second skin, marred by scorch marks and the faint glimmer of blood runes that pulsed faintly beneath the metal. A twin-bladed glaive rested across his back, its edges stained from battles already fought, its weight a silent promise of what was to come.


    And on his wrist, barely visible beneath the scorched gauntlet, a crimson ring pulsed¡ªits glow alive, flickering like a heartbeat made of embers.


    There was no fanfare.


    No announcement.


    Just a warrior, cast into the furnace of war.


    [[ Trial of Ascension: Fourth Mana Circle Initiated ]]


    [[ Objective: Eliminate 1,000 enemies of the Shadow Kingdom ]]


    [[ Target Priority: Solis Paladins and Divine Beasts yield greater ascension value. Kill count tallied based on performance. ]]


    [[ Current Progress: 0 / 1,000 ]]


    [[ Additional Modifier: You are unknown. No command authority. No assistance granted. Survive. Adapt. Destroy. ]]


    A scream tore through the air as a Shadow Knight was impaled not twenty paces away, his body thrown from his mount. Paladins in golden armor pushed forward in waves, their shields gleaming with divine light, their swords etched with Solis'' holy glyphs. Behind them marched white-robed battle mages and summoned beasts¡ªphoenixes, light-forged lionns, even an arch griffon.


    Riven''s heart slammed in his chest, not with fear¡ªbut readiness.


    This wasn''t just a test of mana.


    It was a test of will.


    And he would not be found wanting.


    He reached over his shoulder, unhooked the glaive, and dropped into a low stance.


    Another notification pulsed at the edge of his vision.


    [[ Bonus Objective: Survive for 3 consecutive days without leaving the front. Reward: Enhanced Mana Channel Efficiency ]]


    [[ Optional: Kill enemy commander. Reward: Hidden Advancement Perk ]]


    He didn''t hesitate.


    Riven moved.


    The first paladin didn''t even register him as a threat¡ªuntil the glaive swept low, a wave of shadows lashing out like razored tendrils, and severed his spine in a single motion.


    The light in the paladin''s eyes flickered and died as he collapsed to the blood-soaked ground.


    [[ +3 points: Paladin kill ]]


    Riven didn''t pause.


    He pivoted into another strike, fire igniting along the edge of his blade, the heat curling outward in searing ribbons. Shadows surged behind him like a cape caught in a storm, twisting and writhing as they tore into the next line of Solis soldiers. Screams rang out¡ªcut short by a burst of abyssal flame that exploded from his palm and devoured a shield wall in black fire.


    A divine beast lunged from the chaos¡ªa lion wreathed in radiant gold, its mane shimmering like starlight. It roared, eyes glowing with celestial fury.


    Riven met it head-on.


    He hurled a sphere of abyssal fire directly into its open maw. The explosion swallowed the beast mid-leap, searing its divine flesh with a scream that echoed across the battlefield. He didn''t give it time to recover. In the same motion, he vanished in shadowstep and reappeared above its charred form¡ªblade glowing crimson¡ªand cleaved its head clean from its shoulders.


    [[ +7 points: Divine Beast slain ]]


    "Keep formation!" a voice barked beyond the smoke.


    Riven turned toward it, a slow grin stretching across his blood-smeared face.


    ¡ªx¡ª


    The sun never fully rose in this cursed place. The sky hovered in a perpetual dusk¡ªneither day nor night, a war-torn limbo where time itself had fractured.


    Riven''s armor was battered, his skin bruised and burned, but his steps never faltered. Blood¡ªboth Solis and his own¡ªdripped steadily from his hands. His glaive was chipped, his cloak torn, but his shadow magic was sharper than ever.


    The kill counter hovered at 468.


    And still, he pressed on.


    He didn''t sleep.


    At night, he meditated amidst the corpses, shadows coiling protectively around him while he fed on ambient mana from the slain. The flickering crimson bangle on his wrist pulsed faster now¡ªbrighter with every soul taken. His abyssal flame had grown hotter, darker, more alive, reacting instinctively in battle¡ªleaping from his fingertips, erupting from the ground, clinging to his enemies like tar.


    By the second day, they began to fear him.


    Enemy commanders issued kill orders.


    Paladins formed hunting parties. Divine beasts circled from above.


    None of it worked.


    He moved like a specter, vanishing into one shadow and emerging from another. His blade carved through steel like paper. His flames set holy banners alight.


    He was no longer fighting like a soldier.


    He was fighting like a kingdom''s wrath made flesh.


    ¡ªx¡ª


    By the third day, the battlefield had shifted once again.


    Riven stood atop a ruined ridge, ash swirling around him, his silhouette crowned in flickering shadowfire. The land below was a sea of golden plate and fluttering crimson banners¡ªthe final line of Solis'' elite.


    At their center, mounted atop a warhorse clad in radiant silver barding, rode a towering paladin general.


    His armor gleamed like molten gold, etched with divine runes and blessed oaths. A massive warhammer rested across his back, and his tower shield burned with holy light¡ªradiating judgment with every step the horse took forward.


    [[ Target Identified: Paladin General ¡ª High Crusader Serath ]]


    [[ Final Challenge Unlocked: Defeat High Crusader Serath ]]


    [[ Progress: 999 / 1,000 ]]


    Riven exhaled once.


    Then descended like a storm raining hellfire.


    ¡ªx¡ª


    The final duel was a cataclysm.


    Ten brutal minutes of divine discipline clashing with abyssal ferocity.


    Serath fought like the embodiment of Solis''s wrath. His armor blazed with runes of judgment, and his greatsword radiated light so intense it scorched the earth with each swing. Every movement was precise, calculated, and righteous. Shields of golden mana flared around him, absorbing what they could, retaliating with blinding bursts of divine power.


    But Riven met it all head-on.


    No crown. No throne. Just shadow, fire, and the will to carve his path.


    His glaive carved arcs of flame through the air, each strike echoing with the pulse of the Abyss. Shadows surged from his body like a second skin, intercepting Serath''s radiant assaults, tearing through the light, dragging it down into the dark. Where holy fire seared flesh, abyssal power knit bone. Where righteousness tried to smite, ruin responded with fury.


    Riven bled.


    He staggered.


    But he never stopped moving.


    Serath roared, raising his greatsword overhead, its edge shining with the full weight of his divine order.


    Riven didn''t flinch.


    He lunged, shadows bursting in a storm around him, fire coiling along his blade. The glaive struck like a falling star, driving straight through the paladin general''s chest¡ªshattering armor, light, and lungs in one brutal thrust.


    Black fire erupted from the wound, engulfing Serath in a bloom of voidlight.


    His eyes¡ªonce golden with purpose¡ªdimmed in silence.


    And then he fell.


    [[ Kill Count: 1,000 / 1,000 Complete ]]


    [[ Bonus Objective Complete: Enemy Commander Eliminated ]]


    [[ Reward: Hidden Trait Unlocked ¡ª "Thronebreaker" ]]


    [[ Ascension Initiated¡­ Mana Heart Advancing¡­ ]]


    The battlefield began to crumble around him¡ªstone fading to ash, holy banners dissolving into whispers of forgotten light. The shadows peeled back into the void, carrying Riven with them.


    Bloodied.


    Unbroken.


    Grinning.

 Chapter 122 - 122: Raw Power

    Riven''s breath hitched as the world crumbled.


    The battlefield dissolved into motes of dying light, and for a single heartbeat, there was silence¡ªpure and total.


    Then¡ª


    A surge.


    His mana heart detonated with force from deep within his chest¡ªnot in destruction, but expansion. The three rings orbiting it¡ªalready vast, forged from abyssal will and fire-touched fury¡ªshuddered as the fourth began to form.


    Lines of fire carved through the space around his mana heart, searing a spiral path through the dark void of his inner self. Shadows bled from the edges of each mark, coiling and tightening with power.


    The fourth ring was not smooth.


    It was jagged. Wild. Formed from fracture and flame.


    Where the first three had taken shape with control, this one erupted with violence¡ªborn of war, of death, of the thousand lives taken in the battlefield trial. Every scream, every burst of mana, every divine clash echoed in its forming.


    It locked into place with a deep, resonating boom inside his soul¡ªlike a gate sealing shut behind him.


    [[ Fourth Mana Circle Formed. ]]


    [[ Mana Heart Capacity Increased. ]]


    [[ Passive Trait Acquired: Abyssal Dominance ¡ª Presence causes passive mana suppression to lower-tier foes. Shadow affinity effects intensified. ]]


    Riven''s eyes snapped open.


    ¡ªx¡ª


    The training chamber was silent save for the low, thrumming pulse of residual mana humming through the reinforced stone.


    Krux and Damon both tensed the moment the runes flared on the walls¡ªbright violet and burning crimson.


    The doors held.


    But something had changed.


    A wave of pressure rolled outward from within, thick and dense, like the weight of a storm about to break. It wasn''t uncontrolled¡ªit was precise, focused¡ªbut it carried weight, ancient and commanding.


    Inside the chamber, Riven slowly exhaled.


    He rose to his feet, shadows swirling from his skin like smoke. His aura no longer flickered¡ªit seethed. Fire curled beneath the surface of his veins, and his mana no longer simply existed within him.


    It obeyed.


    He extended a hand.


    The shadows responded instantly¡ªfaster, smoother, sharper. One command, and they formed a spear of condensed darkness.


    He snapped his fingers.


    It shattered into mist.


    A smirk tugged at the edge of his lips.


    He turned, movements fluid, deliberate¡ªthe weight of his presence pressing outward with every step. He fastened his cloak and it billowed behind him, caught in the residual currents of raw mana still trembling through the air.


    The chamber''s reinforced doors, etched with sealing glyphs, shuddered.


    Then clicked.


    One by one, the locks disengaged¡ªnot by touch, groaning against the sheer force of Riven''s power. Damon and Krux tensed instinctively, hands twitching toward their weapons.


    They didn''t need to draw.


    The mana veil guarding the threshold dissolved before Riven like mist before sunrise¡ªunraveling strand by strand, its light devoured by the gravity of the Fourth Circle still pulsing faintly within him.


    He stepped through the threshold without pause and the room behind him seemed to exhale.


    "Holy hells," Damon muttered. "You feel that, Krux?"


    "I thought my bones were going to turn to ash," Krux whispered, wide-eyed.


    Riven glanced at them both.


    "I''m done."


    His voice was calm. Firmer. Deeper.


    And behind his eyes, something new burned.


    "Good gods," Damon muttered, eyes wide. "This is just you at the Fourth Circle? How much power are you going to be throwing around when you hit the upper tiers?"


    "I''m¡­ a little terrified," Krux admitted, half-joking¡ªbut his voice wavered with genuine awe. He hadn''t stopped staring at Riven, as though unsure whether to salute or back away slowly.


    Riven exhaled, steam curling from his lips as he centered his mana. "I feel¡­ different. It''s raw. Wound tighter than before. Like there''s fire just under my skin."


    "That''s how it gets," Damon nodded, his tone more sober now. "The higher you go, the more primal it feels. Power like that doesn''t like to be caged."


    Krux gave a sharp breath, then dropped to one knee with a fist to his chest. "Still," he said with a crooked grin, "congratulations, my king."


    Damon followed, kneeling beside him. "To the Fourth Circle," he said. "Well earned."


    Riven offered a nod of acknowledgment, though the fire beneath his skin refused to settle. His veins buzzed with mana like coiled lightning, and the edge of his control felt thinner than ever¡ªbut exhilaratingly so.


    He let the silence stretch for a moment.


    Then smiled.


    "How about we test what I can do now?"


    Damon''s face split into a grin. "Now you''re speaking my language." He cracked his knuckles, the sound echoing through the chamber like the prelude to war.


    "Oh, yes!" Krux lit up like a child about to be unleashed. "I''ve been saving so many new moves for something like this!"


    Riven''s grin deepened, sharp and dangerous.


    "Then let''s see what this power can do."


    ¡ªx¡ª


    The training grounds beyond the chamber stretched wide beneath the pale morning light¡ªstone arenas surrounded by obsidian pillars and shadowforged statues, their carved eyes watching in eternal silence. The mist from earlier had burned off, revealing a crisp clarity to the air. Far above, ravens circled lazily.


    Riven stepped into the open with Damon and Krux flanking him, the weight of his Fourth Circle still radiating from his form like heat from a forge. Undead knights standing post instinctively stepped back, weapons lowered, eyes wide with subtle reverence.


    Damon rolled his shoulders and took a few paces away, his boots grinding into the stone as he formed a wide stance. "Alright, no holding back then. Just give me a heads-up if you plan to melt the earth beneath my feet."


    "Can''t promise anything," Riven said smoothly, dark fire flickering in his palm as a jagged trail of shadow curled around his wrist like a living serpent.


    Krux was already bouncing on his heels, stretching out his arms. He cracked his neck once, then drew his short sword in a blur of movement. "If I get flattened in the first ten seconds, I want it on record that I died happy."


    "No one''s dying," Riven muttered. "But you might be limping."


    A pulse of mana rolled out from him, silent and invisible¡ªbut both Damon and Krux felt it. The ground beneath their feet seemed to shudder slightly, as if acknowledging who stood at its center.


    Riven raised his hand.


    With a whisper of thought, the shadows around him surged forward¡ªnot as mist or smoke this time, but as coiled, muscular tendrils that obeyed his motion like extensions of his body. He swept his hand to the side, and they fanned out, wrapping around a pillar and crushing it into powder in a heartbeat.


    "Okay, that was new," Damon said, brows lifting.


    "I don''t even know what that was," Krux said, practically vibrating with excitement.


    "Focus," Riven warned, stepping into the sparring ring now etched with faint glowing lines. "This isn''t about showing off. I need to feel how this new power holds in live combat."


    Damon''s grin returned. "Then let''s give you something real."


    He slammed a hand to the ground.


    Stone erupted beneath him, reshaping itself in jagged plates of armor across his body, and thick spires burst upward to form a defensive wall. Dust swirled around him as the entire arena shifted under his command.


    Krux blurred forward a heartbeat later, vanishing in a flicker of movement. When he reappeared, he was already mid-air, spinning low toward Riven with a streak of silver from his blade.


    Shadow tendrils snapped up from the ground and caught Krux mid-spin, absorbing the blow and redirecting it harmlessly. Another tendril shot upward behind him and launched him backward¡ªright into one of Damon''s stone columns.


    The impact cracked the stone. Krux groaned.


    Riven raised a brow. "You rushed."


    Krux laughed from the floor, rubbing the back of his head. "I regret nothing."


    Damon launched into the fray now, boulders rising and orbiting him like jagged moons. With a grunt, he hurled two massive slabs of stone toward Riven.


    Riven raised a hand¡ªand unmade them.


    The boulders disintegrated mid-air, swallowed whole by the ring of shadows around him. He surged forward, faster than either had seen before¡ªhis movements fluid, every step rippling with heat and power. Fire coiled along the length of his arm as he drove a fist toward Damon''s chest.


    Damon blocked just in time with an armored forearm.


    The impact sent him skidding back several meters, plowing trenches into the ground.


    "Okay," Damon coughed, shaking the shock out of his arm. "I definitely felt that."


    Krux leapt in again, blade dancing with wind-infused strikes now¡ªhis footwork a blur. Riven moved with him, not blocking, but redirecting every strike. He spun, stepped in close, and with a twist of his palm, a flare of abyssal fire erupted at Krux''s feet.


    The explosion tossed him skyward.


    Riven vanished.


    And reappeared above him.


    Krux blinked¡ªthen saw the smirk.


    "Oh come on¡ª!"


    The air exploded as Riven slammed him back to the arena floor with a hammering wave of shadow.


    When the dust settled, Krux lay on his back, wheezing but grinning. "That¡­ was amazing."


    Damon chuckled, stepping in and offering a hand to pull him up. "You okay?"


    Krux nodded, breathless. "I''m great. We have to do this again."


    Riven let the fire and shadow fade from his hands. The pulse of his Fourth Circle still hummed beneath his skin¡ªeager, unspent¡ªbut satisfied.


    He looked down at his hands, flexed them once.


    "I have control," he murmured. "But only barely."


    Damon grinned. "Then I say we keep pushing. Because if this is just the start¡­" Sear?h the ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Krux clapped him on the back. "The world isn''t ready for what comes next."


    Riven''s smile returned, slow and cold.


    "No," he said. "It''s not."

 Chapter 123 - 123: Hungry Egg

    The Shadow Kingdom lay quiet beneath a starless sky. No moonlight touched the blackstone spires. Only the faint violet glow of rune-lanterns lit the streets, pulsing softly like the heartbeat of the city itself.


    Riven stood in his chambers within the Shadow Palace, cloak discarded, bare-chested as he washed the blood and dust off from his skin from his spar with Damon and Krux. The basin before him steamed faintly, tendrils of heat curling into the still air. In the obsidian-framed mirror across the room, the dragon tattoo across his back seemed to shift in the low light¡ªits wings curled protectively around his shoulder blades, tail winding down his spine, the head resting near the nape of his neck.


    Alive. Waiting.


    His mana still buzzed from the earlier sparring session¡ªraw and vast, like a tide just barely held at bay. He could feel his Fourth Circle humming beneath his ribs, a molten rhythm of shadow and fire.


    And somewhere, deep beneath it all, something stirred.


    The Obsidian Dragon Egg.


    Cradled within the abyssal void of his system, sealed in the silence between worlds, it had lain dormant since the forging of the last bond. Silent. Motionless. But never truly asleep. It had watched through him, waited with him¡ªan ember hidden in the hollows of his shadow, patient as the grave.


    Until now.


    The air shifted, almost imperceptibly¡ªa subtle tightening of space, the kind of pressure that comes before a storm breaks. Not magic. Not wind. Something deeper. A slow breath drawn in by the very bones of the world.


    The rune-lanterns guttered and dimmed, their violet glow strangled by an unseen force. The shadows thickened, bending inward, as if the walls themselves bowed in quiet reverence.


    And then it struck.


    A deep, resonant boom, not heard but felt, rippled through Riven''s core. A phantom impact, like a great drum sounding from within the marrow of existence. His mana surged instinctively, rising in a wave¡ªpart defense, part recognition, part reverence.


    The Obsidian Dragon Egg was awakening once more.


    Riven''s gaze sharpened. He reached inward, drawing the Egg forth from the abyssal hollow where it had slept, answering its call.


    A flash of dark light peeled open a rift in the air before him. From within, the egg materialized¡ªsuspended between planes for a breathless instant before dropping gently into his waiting hands.


    It pulsed the moment it touched him.


    Its black shell was hot¡ªalive¡ªveins of blue-violet light running like molten circuits across its surface, brighter than ever before. Waves of raw mana radiated outward, thick and ancient, washing over him like a tide of memory and instinct.


    His dragon tattoo ignited with answering heat, searing along his spine.


    His grip tightened around the shell as a soundless roar tore through his mind, primal and echoing. It wasn''t a scream of rage.


    It was hunger.


    The egg throbbed again, synchronizing with his mana heart. Riven staggered a half-step as power swelled between them, chaotic and insistent. He didn''t need the system''s permission this time¡ªhe could already feel the demand.


    The battlefield had left its mark. The blood spilled, the divine essence ruptured, and the clash of fire and shadow had all fed the bond he carried. The forging of his Fourth Circle had been no quiet affair¡ªit had been violence given form, and somewhere deep within the silent corners of his soul, the Obsidian Dragon Egg had felt every shudder of it.


    The air shifted, subtly at first. A faint tightening of space, like the invisible draw of a storm before it breaks. Not magic. Not mana. Something older. The rune-lanterns along the walls flickered, their violet light smothered under a thick, unseen weight. Shadows leaned inward, the room itself seeming to bow toward a single, unseen center.


    Then it came¡ªa pulse.


    A low, resonant drumbeat that rattled through the hollow of Riven''s core. It wasn''t sound. It was sensation, striking deep through the forged layers of his soul. His mana stirred unbidden, rising instinctively¡ªnot to resist, but to answer.


    The Obsidian Dragon Egg was moving.


    Riven''s eyes narrowed. He straightened slowly, feeling the weight of something ancient and immense stirring against the boundaries he had sealed. The battle, the forging, the bloodlust¡ªit had all reached it. Awoken it.


    A whisper slid into the hollow spaces of his mind. It wasn''t words in the way men spoke them; it was something more primal. A command etched in instinct, carved into the marrow of existence itself.


    Feed me.


    The demand was not a cry, nor a plea. It was inevitability given voice.


    Riven inhaled slowly, drawing the air deep into his lungs, feeling the charge of it ripple through his veins alongside the lingering echoes of fire and shadow. And in the quiet that followed, low and steady, Riven spoke.


    "System."


    [[ The Egg has entered Phase Three of incubation. ]]


    [[ Bloodlust resonance and Fourth Circle awakening have triggered a Bond Link Request. ]]


    [[ Establish Bond Link 3/10? ]]


    [[ Mana Requirement: 80% of current reserves. ]]


    [[ Warning: The Dragon has begun imprinting on your power signature. Further bonds may begin affecting physical and magical attributes. ]]


    Riven''s fingers tightened around the egg.


    The temptation was real¡ªto see what came next, to feel that link deepen, to harness whatever power lay dormant within the obsidian shell.


    But he wasn''t careless.


    He moved to the side table, uncorked a flask of etherbloom concentrate, and downed half in one breath. Mana surged through him, cold and sharp. He''d learned from last time.


    Then, he sank to the floor.


    His legs folded beneath him, movements fluid as smoke, and he settled into a cross-legged position with the egg cradled in his lap like a precious, volatile ember. The cool stone beneath him seemed to hum faintly, as if reacting to the tension in the air.


    Riven closed his eyes, centering himself against the rising storm inside him. He drew in one long breath, slow and deep, filling his lungs with mana-laced air until his chest ached from the strain. Then he exhaled, measured and steady, sending a ripple of invisible heat ghosting across his skin.


    The Obsidian Dragon Egg stirred in his grasp.


    It pulsed once¡ªthen again¡ªsteady and rhythmic, like the beat of a second heart beginning to align itself with his own. The warmth of it spread up his arms in slow, creeping tendrils, threading through muscle, coiling around bone, sinking into the sinew of his being like living fire.


    His Fourth Circle stirred in answer, the well of his mana heart swelling, the tide of his power rising to the call.


    Riven didn''t hesitate.


    He let go.


    He tore open the gates of his mana heart without reservation, unleashing a surge of raw shadow and searing flame that poured into the waiting vessel in a flood of primal offering. His mana roared through him, wild and untamed, a river of heat and hunger meant for the Egg alone.


    It drank greedily, pulling at his strength with a hunger that was no longer passive, no longer patient.


    And the room around him began to tremble, the stone underfoot shuddering as if the very foundation of the world had been disturbed.


    [[ Initiating Mana Transfer¡­ ]]


    The drain began instantly. The egg drank his power greedily, and this time, the pull wasn''t smooth¡ªit was wild, erratic, like trying to contain a storm inside a vessel not yet ready to hold it. His limbs trembled slightly. Shadows writhed along the floor. The dragon tattoo burned brighter, glowing faintly in the mirror''s reflection.


    And then, without warning, the Egg roared¡ªnot in sound, but within him.


    A flash of burning cold slammed through his chest as a third bond ignited. Riven arched, eyes wide, as the heat carved itself deeper into his spine.


    [[ Bond Link 3/10 Established. ]]


    [[ Mutation Detected. Draconic affinity developing. ]]


    [[ Mana Type Altered: Abyssal + Fire + Draconic (Embryonic) ]]


    Riven gasped, sweat streaking down his skin as he slumped forward, the egg cradled in his lap.


    His veins burned as if something ancient was now echoing through his body. A faint thrum stirred in the deep¡ªa heartbeat not his own.


    The egg was no longer just responding to his mana; it was reaching for something more profound, something deeper than magic¡ªhis soul. A tether had formed between them, unseen but unbreakable, braided through essence rather than flesh.


    Riven lowered his gaze, studying the shell resting in his hands. The earlier gleam that had pulsed along its surface had faded, dimming into a low, persistent warmth. Yet the life within it still burned steady, feeding, growing, biding its time. It wasn''t simply dormant. It was sleeping¡ªdigesting the offering it had been given. Gathering strength.


    A breath eased from Riven''s chest as he leaned back against the cool stone wall behind him. His body ached faintly from the torrent of mana he had unleashed, but the exhaustion was distant, dulled by something else¡ªsomething more important. His half-lidded eyes never left the egg, the nexus of shadow and flame that pulsed gently in his lap.


    He exhaled a quiet, almost disbelieving laugh under his breath, a wry twist of amusement curling at the edges of his tired smile.


    "You''re going to be a nightmare," he whispered.


    The egg stirred in answer, its warmth blooming once more against his palms¡ªsoft but unmistakable. A quiet acknowledgment. A promise.


    The room stayed silent after that, thick with the tension of something unspoken¡ªsomething alive. Riven''s fingers drifted along the egg''s smooth, obsidian surface, still warm with residual energy. The pulse had slowed now, no longer frantic, no longer demanding. It was¡­ content. For the moment.


    But beneath that calm, Riven felt the shift¡ªdeep and low, like tectonic plates grinding far below the surface of a sea. The third bond had changed more than just his mana. He could feel it in the way his fire burned now¡ªhotter, hungrier. His shadows seemed to move on their own, reacting to his thoughts before he even gave command.


    And that new element¡ªthat embryonic draconic mana¡ªwas still settling, stirring through his core like embers waiting to ignite.


    He closed his eyes and let his head rest against the stone wall.


    Outside, the wind stirred. Distant, soft. The kind of wind that carried omens.


    Sleep didn''t come easily¡ªnot truly. His body drifted into stillness, but his mind remained adrift. Dreams weren''t so much dreams as impressions. Whispers. Flickers of movement behind closed eyes. Great wings unfurling over oceans of fire. Claws dragging through ash.


    He saw a figure¡ªimmense, winged, its form wreathed in shadows and studded with obsidian scales that pulsed with molten veins. Not just a beast, but something ancient, sacred¡ªcarved from stone that pulsed with power. It stood at the edge of a fractured battlefield beneath a violet-hued sky, flames licking up its spine like a living crown of smoke and fury.


    It turned.


    And though its face was draconic¡ªregal, alien, eternal¡ª


    The eyes¡­


    The eyes were his.


    Riven jolted awake just before dawn, breath shallow and skin damp with cold sweat.


    The egg rested in his lap.


    Heavier.


    As if something within it had shifted, grown, taken more shape.


    He stared down at it, the shell was smooth and uncracked, but unmistakably changed. The glowing veins that ran across its obsidian surface had multiplied, branching like rivers of light¡ªdeeper, more complex. They pulsed now with the rhythm of something breathing. Something waiting.


    A soft notification shimmered to life before his eyes:


    [[ Draconic Bond Link: 3/10 ]]


    [[ Current Incubation Phase: Evolving ]]


    [[ Time Until Next Reaction: Unknown ¡ª Determined by Combat Resonance, Emotional Surge, or Near-Death Experience. ]]


    [[ Dragon is watching. ]]


    Riven blinked at the final line, exhaling slowly.


    "Yeah," he murmured, voice low. "I know."


    His thoughts drifted¡ªnot to the present, but to the mausoleum beneath the Academy, where Waunuk of the Obsidian Realm had first spoken to him. The ancient dragon, his colossal skeletal frame sealed in stone and chains, had not begged for freedom. He had given Riven a gift¡ªa burden wrapped in scaled obsidian.


    Riven rose slowly, careful not to jostle the egg as he guided it back into the swirling dark of his inventory. Before sealing it away, he paused¡ªone last glance at the glowing shell resting in his hands.


    He felt it watching him.


    Not with fear. Sear?h the Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    With trust.


    He summoned a thread of his mana¡ªnow tainted with the embryonic spark of something draconic¡ªand wrapped it around the egg like a warded veil. Fire. Shadow. Stone. He sealed it in silence.


    And the egg pulsed once¡ªlike a heartbeat heard across time.


    Then faded into the void between.


    Riven stood for a long moment, watching the space it left behind.


    Then he turned, pulled on his robe, and stepped into the palace hallway just as the faint light of dawn broke over the Shadow Kingdom''s eastern towers.


    He had generals to meet. A kingdom to guide. A realm to expand.


    But with every stride, the responsibilities tethered to him grew heavier¡ªno longer obligations, but chains forged in fire, loyalty, and legacy.