Sam watched quietly, unmoving.
His eyes narrowed slightly as the carriage of House Duskgrave came to a smooth halt at the temple gate.
The flames around the undead horses flickered as if bowing to something unseen,
and for a brief moment, even the surrounding mana in the air felt... restrained.
Then, a soldier in black ceremonial armor stepped forward,
his movements are sharp and respectful.
With both hands, he reached for the carriage door,
then pulled it open with a heavy creak.
And then he stepped out.
A boy around 15 years old,
yet carrying a presence that felt ancient.
His skin was pale as milk, almost translucent under the sunlight.
His eyes, ash-gray, glinted with a strange depth—
like he could see not only the living…
but the echoes of those long dead.
*******************
His hair, dark navy blue, shimmered as if starlight were caught within it—
like the midnight sky itself woven into strands, with tiny silver sparks
blinking like distant stars.
He wore a layered ceremonial robe of black and violet,
trimmed with silver thread that is shaped into soul sigils and crescent moons.
On his left wrist hung a small soul bell, faintly glowing blue—
completely still, but the silence around it seemed too intentional.
The crowd didn't cheer.
They didn't whisper now.
They simply watched.
Even the other noble heirs turned slightly,
each of them subtly adjusting their stance.
Because power… recognizes power.
---
Sam's eyes followed him calmly.
"So he's the one," Sam thought.
"The heir to a house that deals with the dead…
Yet walks are more alive than most of us."
For a brief second, the boy's ash-gray gaze drifted toward Sam.
Not long. Not sharp.
Just… aware.
And then he passed, escorted toward the central waiting circle of noble candidates
***************************
As he walked past,
his silent presence sent a ripple of tension across the gathering ground.
But while others stared or turned away...
Sam closed his eyes and activated an all scan skill.
__________________________________________
[DING!]
[Skill: all Scan – Activated]
Target: Jake Duskgrave
Scan Report: Jake Duskgrave
Race: Human
Age: 15
Mana: Not Awakened
Mana Core: Not Created
__________________________________________
Bloodline Skills (Locked):
Soul-Seer's Eye (Unlocks upon Mana Core creation)
Command of the Departed (Unlocks upon Mana Core creation)
Undead Creation (Unlocks upon Mana Core creation)
Summon: Ancient Dead Warrior (Unlocks upon Mana Core creation)
More..
__________________________________________
Lineage:
Son of Duke Leopold Duskgrave
Domain: Ancient lands near the Old Ruins – Known for spiritual magic, soul arts, and necromancy.
__________________________________________
Weakness:
Highly vulnerable to Light-based Magic and Divine Attributes
__________________________________________
The wind seems to go silent as he walks.
Some spectators shiver as if touched by a ghost...
__________________________________________
******************************
Sam's eyes lingered on Jake Duskgrave's back as the boy walked away.
'Whoa… so many different skills from just his bloodline.'
'Soul-seeing eye, undead summoning, command over the dead...'
He exhaled softly.
And though
'Well… whatever.'
'If I hadn't awakened the memories from my past life,
I probably wouldn't have any skill at all.'
His eyes narrowed in focus.
He looked toward his family in the distance, smiling with hope.
'My parents don't have any skills…
But even then, ..... they managed to form multiple cores—a rare feat.
That's already an incredible achievement in this world.'
'In this world, skills are rare.
Elemental magic can be learned—but only based on the element you awaken.
But true skills—they're tied to bloodlines. Passed down like an old legacy .'
'My parents couldn't pass down a skill.
But I… I don't need to learn every magic.
'Because the skills I awakened… are very powerful '
He closes his skill
************
the atmosphere stirred once again—
this time, not with wind or cold… but with something older.
A soldier dressed in a deep green and gold uniform stepped forward,
his voice was firm and full of reverence as he raised a wooden staff crowned with vines and glowing crystals.
"Clear the path!"
"Make way for the carriage of the Young Mistress of House Lysfey—
Guardian of the Eastern Border, Protector of the Spirit Forest!"
The crowd shifted with a murmur of awe.
"House Lysfey…?"
"They control the border near the Spirit Forest, right?"
"Their bloodline connects to ancient nature spirits…"
"I heard their heir was blessed by a forest guardian at birth."
******************
a carriage of living wood and green crystal emerged.
It moved not by wheel… but by roots that gently slithered across the stone,
guided by quiet bursts of glowing spirit energy beneath it.
Glowing butterflies fluttered around it.
Small orbs of light—forest spirits—danced in the air like drifting petals.
When the carriage stopped, a figure draped in leafy robes stepped forward
and gently opened the vine-covered door.
The scent of fresh earth and blooming flowers swept through the crowd.
And from within…
The Young Mistress of the Spirit Forest
She stepped down gracefully, her feet touching the temple stone with reverence.
Her long emerald-green hair shimmered with golden strands, braided with spirit-thread and tiny white blossoms.
Her robe was woven from silk and vines—alive, breathing, moving slightly with her aura.
Her eyes, soft golden-brown with hints of green, reflected a calm that came not from training—
but from harmony with nature itself.
The mana around her pulsed with life magic—warm, ancient, sacred.
Some in the crowd bowed their heads out of instinct.
Not from nobility…
But from respect for something far older than kings or dukes.
**************
Sam watched silently as she passed.
A few petals drifted by his shoulder, and the scent calmed him.
"Nature magic… a spirit-blessed bloodline."
"She probably doesn't cast any type of magic. She is magic."
But instead of feeling inferior or overwhelmed,
Sam simply smiled faintly.
"Good."
"The stronger they are… the more I want to see what I can become."
******************
As the last of the spirit butterflies disappeared behind the gathering line,
Sam's gaze remained fixed on the girl who had just stepped down
She hadn't noticed him.
No one ever noticed him when he activated that skill. Except some high ...
He took a deep breath, channeled a trace of mana into his eyes, and whispered silently:
"all Scan."
_________________________________________
[DING!]
[Skill: all Scan – Activated]
Target: Elira Lysfey
__________________________________________
Scan Report: Elira Lysfey
Race: Half-Elven (Father was a human Duke, Mother was a forest elf)
Age: 15
Mana: Not Awakened
Mana Core: Not Created
__________________________________________
• Bloodline Skills : (Unlocks upon Mana Core creation)
• Whisper of the Spirits : (Unlocks upon Mana Core creation)
• Spirit Bloom : (Unlocks upon Mana Core creation)
• Eclipse of the Spirit Tree : (Unlocks upon Mana Core creation)
• Soulroot Thorns : (Unlocks upon Mana Core creation)
• Tears of the Moonroot : (Unlocks upon Mana Core creation)
• Spirit King's Judgment (Sealed Skill)
More..
__________________________________________
Lineage:
Daughter of duke Sylas Lysfer
Noble bloodline mixed with ancient forest magic. Her mother was once a High Priestess of the Spirit Tree.
__________________________________________
Weakness:
Highly vulnerable to high-level divine flame magic
__________________________________________
Sam blinked slowly, eyes still glowing faintly from the scan.
"A half-elf…"
"That explains the nature resonance. But even with all that beauty and spiritual pressure… she hasn't awakened yet either."
He glanced around the line.
The most powerful heirs had still not formed their cores.
"So they are all at the same starting line after all."
Then he smiled faintly.
**************************
The atmosphere stirred once again—
but this time, not with wind, not with cold, not even with spirit pressure...
But with something ancient, untamed, and dangerous.
A thunderous stomp echoed from the far end of the temple gate.
The crowd's casual whispers fell silent.
And then—
A group of soldiers marched into view.
But these weren't ordinary guards.
They were tall, heavily built, and dressed in armored uniforms resembling the scales of monsters—
each chestplate bearing the sigil of a dragon's eye set in flame.
Their cloaks shimmered with faint sparks of mana, and around their shoulders rested the skin of feral beasts.
Their leader, a broad-shouldered man with a fang-shaped scar on his jaw, stepped forward.
His voice boomed like a war horn:
"Clear the path!"
"Make way for the carriage of the Young Master and Mistress of House Drogans—
Guardian of the Western Border, Protector of the Wild Frontier!"
The ground itself trembled as the carriage approached—
Pulled by a giant scaled beast that walked like a dragon
its claws dragging against the stone and steam hissing from its breath.
The carriage itself was forged from blackened obsidian with glowing red wood and marble
Chains of silver bone held it secure, and spiked mana-seals hovered around it like a protective dome.
Some in the crowd stepped back out of instinct.
Even the nobles' expressions hardened.
From inside, a servant jumped down and bowed deeply before unsealing the door.
A wave of hot, wild energy blasted outward
******
and then she stepped out
She stepped down from the obsidian carriage like a warrior descending from a battlefield.
Her presence hit like heat from a forge—hot, wild, and impossible to ignore.
Her skin was light golden-tinted, marked faintly with scale-like patterns that shimmered when mana touched her.
She wasn't as delicate as the others—she was carved from grit and fire.
Her eyes, a molten amber-gold, held vertical slit pupils, glowing faintly even in the sunlight.
They weren't just observing the world.
They were measuring it—like a predator choosing whether to strike.
Her hair—long and wild—was a burning mix of black and deep crimson red, braided tightly down her back.
When the light hit, it flickered like embers buried in coal, glowing red near the tips, dark at the roots.
A few strands curled freely near her temples, framing her fierce, confident face.
She wore battle-formal armor cloth, woven from monster skin and enchanted steel thread—
sleek, black, and trimmed with glowing red runes.
A short black cape fluttered behind her, the Drogans crest emblazoned in silver:
a dragon curled around a mountain, breathing flame into the sky.
She didn't speak.
She didn't wave.
She simply walked, her footsteps echoing like distant thunder.
The very mana around her tense—as if unsure whether to flee or bow.
***********
Long before the crowd fully recovered from Drayra's fiery entrance,
the atmosphere grew heavy once again—
but this time, not from the aura of a rising heir...
...but from a battle-hardened predator already feared across the borders.
He wasn't introduced with trumpets.
He didn't need them.
He was already known.
Kaidan Drogans, Drayra's elder brother, stood silently with arms crossed,
his towering figure wrapped in black-scaled battle robes
His handsome face was sharp, angular, and scarred down the left cheek—earned, not hidden.
Golden eyes, slipped like his sister's, glowed faintly beneath his furrowed brow,
piercing through the crowd like a beast watching a battlefield unfold.
His hair, long and thick, was a striking blend of black and red—
deep obsidian at the roots that faded into burning crimson tips.
It was tied loosely behind his back,
and when the wind caught it, it looked like a live fire twisting through darkness.
His presence wasn't loud—but it was absolute.
The kind that made seasoned warriors lower their voices.
On his back rested a massive greatsword, forged from dragonbone and reinforced obsidian—
its hilt wrapped in red leather, runes pulsing like a heartbeat.
Standing silently, he watched Drayra with something between pride and judgment.
People whispered in fear and awe:
>"Is that… dragon blood?"
"They say she and her brother were born during a drake raid and tamed one as a toddler…"
"Her house breeds hybrid warriors… some say they aren't fully human anymore."
Even Jake Duskgrave turned his head slightly.
Even Elira Lysfey paused.
Sam, however, didn't flinch.
Instead, he narrowed his eyes.
'they don't just walk like they own the arena.'
'they walk like they already won the war.'
Then—
he smiled and though
'So that's the beast of the west…'
'Let's see if their roar is as loud as her arrival.'
Then sam focus on them