My name is Lucien. I was a knight. A sword raised in loyalty to House Revalin—a name not of my blood, but of my adoption. They took me in when I was young, a nameless child with no past and only a C-grade mana core. Barely average. Not worth notice in the eyes of nobles. Not even worth raising in the eyes of most. But they accepted me. Or so I believed. They gave me a name. A place. A role. I stood among them not as a servant, but as family. I trained in their courtyard. Wore their crest. Ate at their table. When they sent me to the Academy, I thought it was proof—proof that I was truly one of them. Among the gifted heirs of powerful houses, I stood with nothing but a steel will and a weak core. And still, I fought. I pushed. I bled. And I believed I was loved. Loras, the heir to House Revalin, was my brother in all but blood. We trained side by side. Fought battles together. I would have died for him without hesitation. But loyalty is a one-way road when you are not born into power. Everything shattered the day a noble from a rival family was found dead—assassinated. The truth of the murder was buried quickly, but I discovered enough. It had been ordered. Calculated. The Revalins had done it. Not just Loras—but the entire house was involved. They couldn't afford exposure. And they couldn't risk their heir taking the fall. So they used me. The adopted knight. The one with no real family. No real power. No protection. I was framed. Blamed. Silenced. Loras said nothing. The house that raised me turned its back on me without a second thought. I was forced to run. Hunted. Exiled from the Academy. Branded a criminal. And so I disappeared. Seven years passed. I lived among the forgotten, wandered the edges of civilization, searching for answers I was never meant to find. In the ashes of who I was, I uncovered the truth. I learned who my true family was. My birth family. They had not died. They had not been taken from me. They had discarded me. Not anymore. Tonight, I stand at the center of an ancient ritual. Forbidden. Unspoken. The circle is drawn. The runes drip with blood my blood. I make no excuses. No justifications. This is vengeance. Not against their bodies. Not against their lives. But their souls. When death comes for them and it will, as it comes for all—there will be no afterlife. No peace. No reincarnation. No cycle. They will be locked away. Eternally damned. And their fate will fuel my own rebirth. This is the balance. For their souls, I will sever the chains on mine. My mana core will rise beyond its limits. My rank will no longer be bound to what they left me with. The ceiling placed on me from birth will be shattered. Their afterlives for my future. That is the price. And I accept it. I'm sorry… if that means anything. But my life is more important. I step into the circle. Blood burns. Light erupts. The runes scream as they twist open the gate between life and death. The ritual accepts my offering. And from the space beyond, a voice speaks. Cold. Ageless. Watching.ARE YOU READY FOR THE CONSEQUNSES OF DEFYING FATE
