The Eye of God faded slowly—like mist retreating under the morning sun.
Kael sat motionless by the mirror, pale legs folded under him, small fingers twitching slightly in his lap.
He was still breathing. That was good.
He hadn't screamed. Also good.
But his heart… was pounding like a drum.
That power... was real.
It wasn't just vision—it was understanding. Everything he looked at, he knew. Not in vague terms, but in cold, absolute detail. Physical structure. Magical essence. Emotional state.
Like a god peering down on mortals.
And the worst part?
He hadn't activated it on purpose.
It had responded to fear.
The door creaked again.
Elira, the maid, stepped back in. This time, another figure followed her—taller, broader, and wrapped in shadows.
Kael's breath caught.
The moment the man entered, the air shifted. Heavy. Dense. Like gravity itself bowed before him.
Hair like polished obsidian. Pale, angular features chiseled in stone. Crimson eyes that gleamed without warmth. His black high-collared coat swept behind him like a noble's cape, adorned with silver chains and a blood crest on his chest.
Kael didn't need the Eye to guess who this was.
He knew.
This was Lord Malrik Valtazar—the Vampire Duke of Nightglass Spire.
His father.
The man whose name had been whispered in terror across the pages of Crimson Reign. The one who had once turned a human kingdom into a forest of corpses after a failed assassination attempt.
And now he was standing in front of a five-year-old child—his son.
Kael quickly lowered his gaze. Instinctively.
"You're awake," Malrik said.
His voice was deep. Cool. Not warm. Not cruel. Just… void. Like still water over a bottomless well.
Kael nodded.
"Yes… Father."
The word tasted strange on his tongue.
Malrik approached, his boots clicking softly on the marble.
He stopped two steps away.
For a long moment, he said nothing.
Kael could feel his eyes on him—like twin blades pressing into his skull.
Don't use the Eye. Not yet. Not on him.
That was instinct. Survival.
Instead, Kael kept his face blank.
Malrik's eyes narrowed.
"Do you remember your name?"
"Kael Valtazar," Kael said quietly.
"Your bloodline?"
Kael hesitated. His hands curled into his nightclothes.
"…Vampire," he said. "Born of the Valtazar House."
Malrik studied him. Then—finally—he gave a tiny nod.
"You were unconscious for two days. Your mother wanted to seal your soul to the throne prematurely. I told her to wait."
Kael swallowed. That… sounded bad.
"Seal my soul?"
Malrik ignored the question. Or perhaps he was testing him.
Kael didn't press. He was five. He had to act five.
The man circled him once, slow and predatory. Then he stopped behind him.
"You awakened your blood early," he said.
Kael's heart skipped. "…What do you mean?"
"The eyes," Malrik said.
Kael said nothing.
"They're awake now. Good."
The room grew colder. Shadows stretched.
"Then prove it."
Kael turned, startled. "What?"
Malrik raised his hand.
No chant. No warning.
A sudden crack of power split the air, and a jagged spear of shadow erupted from the floor, darting toward Kael's chest.
He didn't think.
His eyes flared red.
[Analyzing Magic Type: Shadow Construct – Tier III]
[Threat Level: Moderate]
[Countermeasures: Physical dodge / Blood shield / Hex flare]
A red circle pulsed behind his pupils.
Kael's body twisted sideways—unnatural for a child—but he moved like something else had taken over.
The spear slammed into the floor beside him, splintering the marble.
Kael landed on all fours, panting.
His heart hammered. His vision swirled.
He'd activated the Eye instinctively again.
And dodged death.
He looked up.
Malrik was smiling.
It was a terrifying expression. Not pride. Not affection.
Just… interest.
"Your instincts are intact," Malrik said. "You're not weak."
Kael stayed quiet.
Weakness wasn't punished in this world. It was erased.
Malrik turned.
"I'll inform your mother. You'll begin training tomorrow. Your memories, your talent—they are irrelevant if you can't kill."
He walked to the door.
Paused.
Then glanced back.
"Keep your eyes hidden," he said. "Until you're ready to use them properly."
And then he was gone.
Kael sat there for a long time, still crouched beside the shattered spear of shadow.
He was trembling now. Only slightly. But it was enough to know the fear hadn't faded.
Not yet.
This is not a game world.
This is not a story anymore.
Here, there were no safety nets. No guides. No menus or level systems. The power he had been granted—the Eye of God—might be incredible…
But it had painted a target on his back.
His father didn't see a child.
He saw a weapon.
Kael took a slow, shaking breath.
"…Then I'll become the sharpest weapon this world has ever seen."