Lucien stood before his mother, Aria Arkanveil, in their private chamber, holding a small orb that radiated a powerful golden-white glow. The artifact pulsed with ancient magic, sending ripples of light across the elegantly appointed room. Family portraits and heirlooms seemed to respond to its presence, as if recognizing a long-lost relative returning home.
The chamber itself was uniquely Aria's domain—walls lined with rare magical tomes, shelves displaying crystalline vessels containing various essences, and the air perpetually scented with the subtle fragrance of enchanted roses that bloomed year-round in crystal vases.
He looked up at her, smiling with that usual innocent charm that had gotten him out of countless childhood predicaments.
"Mom, this is for you."
Aria raised a perfectly shaped brow. Unlike her husband and children with their distinctive red eyes, hers were a piercing sapphire blue—the mark of her own prestigious bloodline before marriage into the Arkanveil family. Her long golden hair, gleaming like sunlight, cascaded down her back in an elegant braid.
"A gift?" she asked, surprised and intrigued. While Lucien had always been thoughtful, artifacts of this caliber were rarely given away so casually, even within family.
"Mmhm," Lucien nodded, his crimson eyes reflecting the orb's light. "It's called the Orb of the Holy Destructor. Channel your mana into it."
Trusting her son despite the ominous name, Aria gently took the orb. It was warm to the touch, vibrating with barely contained power. The moment her mana touched it—just the lightest exploratory tendril—the orb pulsed violently, then exploded into divine light that filled the chamber with blinding radiance.
A beam of holy brilliance surged from the dissolving artifact, striking her forehead and embedding itself between her brows. The room trembled, books falling from shelves, delicate instruments swaying. Magic circuits hidden within the walls lit up in response, radiating both sacred and volatile energy throughout the chamber.
Lucien stepped back, his red eyes calmly observing the process. Unlike most fourteen-year-olds who might panic at such a display, he maintained his composure, already calculating the exact parameters of the transformation taking place.
For the next full day, Aria sat midair in deep meditation, her body hovering three feet above the plush carpet. Servants came and went silently, leaving trays of untouched food and drink. Raelan checked in periodically but knew better than to disturb the process. Even Grandfather Arkanveil passed by once, raising an eyebrow at the spectacle before nodding approvingly.
Golden-white light continued to emanate from Aria's suspended form, occasionally punctuated by flashes of destructive energy that scorched small patterns into the ceiling—fractal designs of beauty and devastation intertwined.
And then—precisely twenty-six hours after the orb's dissolution—her feet touched the ground once more.
Her eyes opened—gleaming with both divine light and searing destruction. Where once there had been only blue, now golden rays emanated from her irises, while tiny motes of destructive energy danced around her pupils. The overall effect was both terrifying and magnificent.
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[SYSTEM INTERFACE – ACCESS GRANTED]
Name: Aria Arkanveil
Race: Human (Blessed Bloodline – Arkanveil Core)
Age: 49 Years
Rank: Quasi-SSS Rank (Level 90)
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Traits:
• [Destruction & Healing Light Magic – SSS Grade] (Evolved)
• [Mana Heart – SS Grade]
• [Battle Instinct – S Grade]
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Skills:
• Destructive Light: Lance – Lv. 6
• Healing Domain – Lv. 5
• Radiant Nova – Lv. 3
• Mana Flow Control – Lv. 10 [Max Proficiency]
• Spirit Communication – Lv. 7
• Lightblade Manifestation – Lv. 6
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Storage Capacity: 400 Cubic Meters
(Bound Items: Suntear Ring, Holy Emblem of Alera, Spellbook – Luminous Prayers, Elven Silk Robes of Mana Reinforcement)
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System Note:
→ Trait [Destruction & Healing Light Magic] grants dual-mode manipulation of light.
→ Healing mode purifies, restores, and enhances vitality.
→ Destruction mode annihilates physical and magical constructs.
→ Trait perfectly synergizes with both holy and forbidden arts.
---
As the notifications faded from her consciousness, Aria looked down at her son. The transformation had changed more than just her power—her posture was straighter, her skin more luminous, and her golden hair now shone with an almost divine radiance, capturing and reflecting light in new ways. She appeared a decade younger, vitality radiating from her every pore.
Then, without a word, she wrapped him in a fierce hug, lifting him slightly off the ground despite his recent growth spurt.
"Lucien... what have you given me?" she whispered, voice trembling with emotion.
Lucien chuckled, the sound muffled against her shoulder.
"Something fit for the strongest mom on the continent."
She released him with a warm smile that contained a hint of newfound power. Currents of light danced across her fingertips as she flexed them experimentally. Then, with purpose in her stride, she immediately made her way through the mansion and out to the expansive garden.
Servants scattered respectfully from her path, sensing the change in their mistress even without understanding its nature. Even the family's guardian beasts—enormous feline creatures with elemental affinities—bowed their heads as she passed.
Without hesitation, she raised a glowing hand toward a section of the garden that had been planted with ordinary, non-magical flora. Light gathered at her fingertips, condensed and brilliant.
"Destructive Light: Scatter."
BOOOOM!
A massive pulse of light erupted from her palm, expanding in a perfect hemisphere. The entire garden section was vaporized in an instant—trees, flowers, even the ornate marble fountain—gone in one blinding flash. Not even ash remained, just scorched earth and a perfectly semicircular crater twenty feet deep.
Raelan Arkanveil, who had been in his study reviewing reports from the family's various business ventures, appeared at the backdoor just in time to witness the obliteration. The magical alarm system had alerted him to the sudden energy surge on the property.
His expression blanked as he surveyed the destruction.
Then he slowly turned to Lucien, who had followed his mother at a safe distance.
"...You gave your mother what!?" he asked, his earlier confidence from his own power-up notably absent when confronted with his wife's newfound destructive capabilities.
Lucien only smiled knowingly, the picture of innocence despite the smoking crater behind him.
But before anything else—
"MYYYY FLOWER FORTRESS!!"
A high-pitched wail of utter devastation cut through the air. Trisha, Lucien's youngest sister, stormed into view, her small form practically vibrating with fury as she surveyed the smoking ruins of what had been her play garden. In that section of the now-vaporized garden, she had constructed an elaborate "fortress" of flowers, complete with walls of climbing roses and a throne made of carefully arranged stones.
Her eyes blazed with righteous rage as she stomped toward them.
Her tiny hands curled into trembling fists, gathering her own nascent magic.
Lucien, already calculating distances and planning his escape route, knew exactly what was coming. His little sister's temper was legendary within the household, and even with his enhanced abilities, he preferred to avoid its full force when possible.
Aria tried desperately to calm the little monster down, kneeling to eye level with her furious daughter.
"Darling, I'm so sorry! I didn't realize that was your special place. Look, I can help you build it again, even better than before!"
Small sparks of light—both healing and destructive—flickered around Aria as she struggled to control her new powers while under the emotional stress of her daughter's tears.
Meanwhile, Raelan muttered to himself as he surveyed the damage to his ancestral gardens:
"...I have to call Father. She's become unstoppable... The eastern wing was just renovated after the children's last magical accident..."
Chaos descended upon House Arkanveil once again as Trisha's wails grew louder. Servants peeked from windows and doorways, wondering if they should intervene or simply wait for the storm to pass. The gardeners, seeing their months of work obliterated, quietly began updating their resumes.
Elric and his sister appeared at the edge of the destruction, having heard the commotion. The boy's eyes widened at the display of power, while his little sister immediately ran to join Trisha in solidarity of outrage.
Through it all, Lucien only watched, arms crossed over his chest, a slight smile playing at the corners of his mouth. The orb had performed exactly as he'd calculated—perhaps even better.
Another piece placed. Another victory earned.
The path to the future he envisioned was growing clearer with each calculated move. First his father, now his mother—the Arkanveil family's power was growing. And no one suspected that the true architect of these changes was the fourteen-year-old boy watching from the sidelines.
As Trisha's tantrum reached its crescendo and a small rain cloud began to form above the ruined garden—her emerging water affinity responding to her emotions—Lucien turned and walked back toward the mansion.
He had other gifts to prepare. Other pieces to move.
After all, a family was only as strong as its weakest member.
And Lucien Arkanveil would accept nothing less than extraordinary.