I looked at my father.
Then my grandfather.
Finally, my gaze settled on Elder Solryn.
...
Silence.
For once—
I had no answer.
Demonic energy.
I understood the concept.
Everyone did.
When negative emotions fester for long enough, something begins to change.
Pain.
Hatred.
Obsession.
Resentment.
They accumulate.
Condense.
And eventually—
They transform into power.
Demonic Energy.
A force born not from harmony, but from imbalance.
Left unchecked, it devours its host.
It twists the mind, corrupts the body, and gradually strips away everything that makes its wielder who they are.
Until nothing remains but instinct.
Obsession.
Rage.
A creature driven by the very emotions that once defined it.
A mindless beast.
That was the known truth.
And the cure?
Simple.
Not easy.
But simple.
Remove the burden.
Heal the heart.
Break the obsession.
Or, if the corruption has progressed beyond recovery—
Kill the host before it is too late.
However...
There were exceptions.
Rare individuals were born with demonic energy already present within them.
Unlike those who acquired it through emotional corruption, these individuals possessed the potential to control it from the beginning.
Some could suppress it.
Others could master it.
A few could even transform that chaos into strength.
But even then—
The danger never truly disappeared.
One mistake.
One moment of lost control.
And everything could collapse.
Yet what I carried...
Wasn't ordinary demonic energy.
Demon God Energy.
That was an entirely different existence.
To reach that level required more than an enormous quantity of demonic energy.
It demanded absolute control.
An extraordinary will.
And the ability to withstand a transformation capable of destroying its wielder from within.
One mistake—
And your existence shattered.
Not injured.
Not weakened.
Erased.
So why?
Why was something like that inside me?
I wasn't abused.
I wasn't broken.
My childhood had been normal.
The clan wasn't perfect, but cruelty was never something it tolerated.
Weakness?
That was a different matter.
But injustice?
No.
There was no reason for me to have developed demonic energy through emotional corruption.
And if I had been born with it—
Why had nobody noticed?
Not my parents.
Not the elders.
Not even the Patriarch.
Nothing.
...
I lowered my gaze.
This made no sense.
And that was precisely what made it dangerous.
Because whatever was happening to me—
I didn't understand it.
My grandfather shifted slightly.
Then glanced toward Solryn.
A silent exchange passed between them.
No words.
Just a brief look.
Permission.
After a moment, my grandfather turned back toward me.
"Elder Solryn believes..."
He paused.
"...that you may be one of the Pure Ones."
The words landed quietly.
But their weight was immense.
My father's gaze sharpened immediately.
Pure One.
Even I had heard that term before.
A classification so rare that most considered it little more than a myth.
Individuals possessing perfect, or near-perfect, bloodline purity.
Existences whose foundations stood outside the ordinary limitations of cultivation.
Anomalies.
My grandfather continued.
"We have never sensed demonic energy from you before."
His eyes locked onto mine.
"Not once."
He leaned back slightly.
"That should be impossible."
A pause.
"Even those born with demonic energy struggle to conceal it completely. Their presence leaves traces. Their energy carries a distinctive signature."
His expression became more serious.
"Those who awaken it later in life have even less control. Their corruption usually announces itself long before they understand what is happening."
He looked directly at me.
"But you..."
His voice lowered.
"...showed absolutely nothing."
Solryn finally spoke.
"Which raises an important question."
His gaze deepened.
"Perhaps it isn't something you possess in the ordinary sense."
He paused.
"...Perhaps it is something you are connected to."
Silence.
My heartbeat slowed.
The Sea of Consciousness.
The Nameless Sovereign.
Those endless blue waters.
That familiar face.
You are not becoming...
You are remembering...
My fingers tightened slightly.
Connected.
That word again.
Was that what the Sovereign meant when it called me its continuity?
Before I could pursue the thought—
My grandfather exhaled.
His expression hardened.
"We have made a decision."
I raised my eyes.
A brief pause followed.
Then—
"We are sending you to Neraphyx."
...
BOOOOOOOOOOM!!!
The entire room shook.
My father's aura erupted.
Blue flames surged around his body like a star collapsing inward.
The air cracked.
The pressure spread across the chamber, forcing the surrounding energy to tremble.
His eyes burned.
Deep blue.
Split with white.
Predatory.
Furious.
"Absolutely not."
His voice was low.
But the words shook the space around us.
My grandfather didn't flinch.
He simply looked at him.
Calm.
Unmoved.
As though he had expected this exact reaction.
"A being destined to stand beyond ordinary limitations..."
He paused.
"...cannot remain sheltered forever."
My father's flames intensified.
But my grandfather continued.
"This is not punishment."
His gaze shifted toward me.
"This is preparation."
The atmosphere trembled.
My father's aura flickered violently.
For a moment, it seemed as though he might challenge the decision itself.
Then—
FWOOSH.
The flames collapsed inward.
The pressure disappeared.
The room returned to silence.
But his gaze remained fixed on my grandfather.
Unyielding.
My grandfather continued.
"There is nothing left for the clan to teach him."
A pause.
"He has already stepped beyond what we can offer."
...
That statement carried an uncomfortable truth.
One that none of us could easily dismiss.
I had already surpassed the level at which ordinary clan training could meaningfully guide my growth.
Whatever happened during my awakening had placed me somewhere none of them could properly measure.
And that was the problem.
They could no longer protect me through ordinary means.
My father closed his eyes briefly.
Then exhaled.
He understood.
Because he had been there.
Neraphyx.
The Land of Endless Death.
A realm where conflict was woven into existence itself.
Where survival wasn't guaranteed.
Where strength wasn't measured by titles or promises, but by what remained standing after everything else had fallen.
My father had survived that place.
He knew its dangers better than anyone sitting in this room.
And now—
I was being sent there.
My grandfather broke the silence.
"As compensation, he will receive multiple survival kits."
My father gave a slight nod.
Not agreement.
Not approval.
Acceptance.
He slowly rose from his seat.
Then turned toward the door.
Each step seemed heavier than the last.
He had said everything he needed to say.
Or perhaps—
There was nothing more he could say.
Then—
"One month."
The voice stopped him.
Not Solryn's.
The Patriarch's.
The authority in that voice was absolute.
"That is all I will give."
My father froze.
Slowly, he turned around.
His expression had changed.
The anger was gone.
Only understanding remained.
One month.
Thirty days.
Time to prepare.
Time to arrange what I would need.
Time to accept the decision.
Or perhaps—
Time to find another way.
My grandfather met his gaze.
Neither spoke.
Then my father turned again.
BANG!!!
The door slammed shut.
A moment later—
BOOOOOOM!!!
His aura ignited outside.
Blue flames blazed across the sky like a second sun.
Then his presence rapidly disappeared into the distance.
...
Silence returned.
I remained seated.
Still.
Thinking.
Not about Neraphyx.
Not about the dangers waiting there.
Not even about survival.
Those things were straightforward.
Danger meant I needed to become stronger.
A hostile environment meant I needed to adapt.
And if something tried to kill me—
Well...
It would have to try very hard.
But something else occupied my thoughts.
Pure One.
What did that classification really mean?
Was it a blessing?
A designation?
A role?
Or simply a word used to describe something that shouldn't exist?
I looked down at my hands.
My bloodline.
My energy.
My existence.
Everything seemed connected to a question nobody in this room could answer.
Solryn's voice interrupted my thoughts.
"You are stronger than anyone I have ever seen at your stage."
His tone was calm.
Almost reassuring.
"I have witnessed countless geniuses throughout my life. Some possessed extraordinary bloodlines. Others carried talents that appeared only once in several generations."
He paused.
"But what I saw in you yesterday..."
A faint smile appeared.
"...was something entirely different."
He looked directly at me.
"You will survive."
I didn't respond.
Because survival wasn't the question.
My thoughts drifted back to the word.
Pure One.
If Pure Ones existed, then there had to be a standard.
A definition.
A foundation against which purity was measured.
And if something could be considered pure—
Then something else must exist outside that definition.
Something different.
Something anomalous.
Something that did not fit the established order.
My fingers tightened.
A realization slowly began forming.
And the more I considered it, the more unsettling it became.
What if the term Pure One wasn't simply a classification of bloodline purity?
What if it represented something much older?
Something connected to the very foundation of existence?
My gaze slowly lifted.
"...Then there's only one."
Both of them looked at me.
Solryn's expression changed slightly.
My grandfather remained silent.
I continued.
"The only true Pure One..."
A pause.
My mind returned to that endless blue ocean.
The black fog.
The figure that carried my face.
The being that claimed to have created this world.
The one whose words continued echoing through my existence.
You are not becoming...
You are remembering...
I raised my eyes.
"...The Nameless Sovereign."
...
Silence.
Deep.
Heavy.
Neither of them immediately responded.
Solryn's gaze sharpened.
My grandfather's expression became difficult to read.
I watched them carefully.
I hadn't expected an answer.
Not really.
But the thought had taken shape, and I could no longer ignore it.
The Nameless Sovereign.
Was it the origin of the purity they sensed?
Was that why Nyxarion had recognized something in me?
Was that why the System had classified my existence as anomalous?
Or was there something even deeper connecting all of us?
I didn't know.
But one thing was becoming increasingly clear.
I wasn't simply connected to that existence.
I wasn't merely chosen.
And I wasn't just a vessel waiting for something to awaken.
Something far more dangerous was happening.
Something neither the clan...
Nor the elders...
Nor even I fully understood.
My gaze shifted toward the window.
Beyond it lay the familiar lands of Zeraphyx.
My home.
My family.
Everything I had known.
One month.
Then I would leave.
I would step into a realm where protection meant little and strength determined how long one remained alive.
But perhaps—
That was exactly where I needed to be.
Because if the Nameless Sovereign truly expected me to become its continuity...
Then I couldn't remain sheltered beneath the protection of others.
I had to discover what that meant.
I had to understand my bloodline.
My power.
My existence.
And whatever waited beyond the boundaries of this world.
...
Neraphyx.
The Land of Endless Death.
It wasn't a punishment.
It wasn't even merely preparation.
It was the place where my next chapter would begin.
And somewhere beyond the reach of my senses—
Something ancient was already waiting.
The path had been chosen.
Now I had to walk it.