The night fell heavy over the Imperial Heaven Sect.
The training fields, once loud with voices, emptied into silence. Moonlight draped the courtyards, silver and cold. The other heirs returned to their quarters — some whispering in schemes, others planning their next step in the unspoken rivalry of factions.
Jace, however, walked alone. His hood concealed his face, but under his hood his eyes burned faintly with crimson light. The decree of his death still echoed in his chest. His clan had abandoned him. He was, in their eyes, nothing.
But the system in his veins refused that.
When he pushed open the door to his quarters, the air stirred unnaturally. His vision blurred, then sharpened as a familiar translucent screen appeared before him.
---
[System Notification]
New Task Assigned: Break through to Soul Phase Realm within 15 days.
Reward: Bloodline Awakening (Stage II) + Scarlet Fang Sword Upgrade (Minor)
Penalty: Cultivation Suppression for 30 days.
---
Jace froze, staring at the glowing script. His heart thudded.
Fifteen days?
For most heirs, reaching Soul Phase Realm within a year was already a feat. To demand it within days was insanity. But the system never offered tasks without reason. And the reward — a further awakening of his bloodline, strengthening the dragon fire in his veins — was worth every risk.
Jace clenched his fist. "So be it."
He lit no candles. Instead, he sat cross-legged in the darkness of his chamber. His breath slowed, his heartbeat steadying into rhythm. Spirit stones, granted by the sect, lay before him in a neat circle.
He placed his palm on one, drawing out its energy.
At once, fire surged through his meridians. His body tensed, his veins glowing faint red beneath his skin. The Scarlet Fang Sword Art circulated within him, guiding the flow, sharpening the raw energy into cutting precision.
And yet, the process was grueling. The spirit energy scraped through his bones, threatening to tear him apart. A weaker will would have shattered already.
But Jace endured.
Because the system demanded it.
---
Days passed.
While others gathered in the sect's lecture halls, listening to elders explain the foundations of sword, body, or qi refinement, Jace's seat remained empty.
Whispers followed him.
"He doesn't even attend classes. Does he think he's above us?"
"Maybe he's afraid of losing face."
"Or maybe he's already preparing to leave the sect. A stray wolf can't survive for long."
Rauthen's laughter echoed often. "Pathetic. Let him hide in his hole. When the time comes, he'll be crushed."
Even Kaelen shook his head, though with less malice. "Skipping guidance from elders… is dangerous."
Only Veyra said nothing. She merely glanced at the empty space where Jace should have been, her crimson eyes thoughtful.
Inside his quarters, Jace drowned out the noise. His focus was absolute.
The system's timer ticked relentlessly in his vision.
[12 Days Remaining.]
Every breath carried qi into his core. Every exhale burned impurities away. His sword lay across his lap, its scarlet edge humming faintly with his growing energy.
He was not wasting time. He was compressing it.
---
Night Shadows' Design
Far away, across jagged mountains and forests that seemed to drink the moonlight, another hall stood. Darker, colder, carved into black stone. The air here reeked of blood and decay.
The Nine Shadow Sect gathered.
Dozens of cloaked figures knelt in the chamber. At the highest seat sat Lord Vlad, his pale fingers resting on a throne of bones. His eyes gleamed like pits of abyssal fire.
Before him, two robed disciples dragged in a trembling figure — once a proud heir, now a hollow shell. His eyes were empty, his veins dark, his aura corrupted.
"Another one," Varthis murmured. His voice was a blade wrapped in velvet. "How does he fare?"
One disciple bowed. "The process succeeded, my lord. His bloodline has been drained. The remnants fuel our puppets."
A hiss of satisfaction filled the hall.
Varthis leaned forward. "Good. The blood of heirs is a delicacy. Their heritage fuels our arts. With enough of them, the Nine Shadows will eclipse the Imperial Heaven Sect itself."
Another disciple spoke. "But their guard has tightened. The sect is wary. We cannot snatch heirs as easily as before."
Vlad' gaze turned sharp. "Then adapt. We need their blood, their fire, their legacy. Devise new ways. Lure them. Break them. Remember… even dragons can bleed."
The hall echoed with whispers of assent.
Vlad' eyes narrowed, burning with hunger.
"And bring me one of the dragons. I care not which — red, black, or green. But a dragon heir must bleed upon my altar."
The puppeted heir at his feet let out a hollow laugh, empty and broken.
---
The Pressure of Breakthrough
Back at the sect, Jace felt the weight of the system's demand pressing harder each day.
[9 Days Remaining.]
[Qi Saturation: 73%]
Sweat rolled down his brow as the spirit stones around him shattered, their essence drained. His veins screamed, but he didn't falter.
"Again," he growled, seizing another stone.
Energy poured into him, twisting like fire through narrow pipes. His meridians stretched, his dantian pulsed, threatening to collapse under the strain. But the Scarlet Fang Sword Art cut the chaos into streams, weaving them into a sharp cycle.
At times he heard the laughter outside — Rauthen's booming voice, Drexar's cruel whisper, Seliora's fiery retorts — but he ignored them.
They played at factions. He walked toward something greater.
---
On the eleventh night, thunder cracked above his chamber though no storm lingered in the skies. His body trembled, his aura surging wildly.
[Qi Saturation: 95%]
The barrier to Soul Phase loomed before him, an invisible wall pressing against his soul. His vision blurred, his chest burning as if torn from within.
[Warning: Core Instability Detected.]
[Stabilization Required.]
Jace bit his lip until blood spilled. His fire roared inside him, threatening to consume everything. For a terrifying moment, he thought he would fail — his meridians snapping, his body collapsing into ash.
But then the Scarlet Fang Sword Art flared, guiding him like a crimson wolf through a storm. His breaths steadied. The energy converged into his core, pulsing, solidifying.
And just as he pushed forward—
A knock echoed at his door.
Soft, deliberate.
Jace's eyes snapped open, sweat glistening on his brow.
The system timer flashed.
[7 Days Remaining.]
Who could it be?
---
TO BE CONTINUED...