The Sovereign Empire
Southern Lands, Viscounty of Vale, Noble Family Territory.
Morning.
The morning sun broke through the clouds, casting warm light across the mountains of the Vale family's lands. Golden rays touched the grass and trees, bringing life to everything they reached.
On one of the unnamed peaks, the mountainside was covered in thick green grass, with only small patches of dirt showing through. Tall trees scattered across the landscape provided shade and cover for whatever moved beneath them.
Slash!
Zhang Wei's sword cut clean through the wolf-like beast in front of him. The blade moved fast and true, ending the fight in a single strike.
"Roaaaar... argh..."
Blood splattered across the grass as the beast's head hit the ground. Its final cry echoed through the trees before everything fell silent.
Drip... drip...
The last drops of blood fell from Zhang Wei's sword as he stared into space, waiting for something only he could see.
Ding!
The familiar sound rang in his mind, followed by glowing words that appeared before his eyes:
Technique:
Beginner Swordsmanship (10/10) >>> Intermediate Swordsmanship (1/10)
Name: Zhang Wei / Ethan Vale
Age: 14
Gender: Male
Technique: Intermediate Swordsmanship, Language Expert
Magic: (×) Unawakened
"Finally," Zhang Wei murmured, smiling faintly despite his exhaustion. He'd been hunting on this mountain since before sunrise, all to upgrade his sword technique.
As soon as the notification appeared, his vision went black.
When his sight returned, he was no longer himself, but a faceless silhouette in his image. This phantom practiced, fought, repeated, each movement a basic sword stroke, each opponent a nameless beast
Time melted away. Minutes became hours. Hours, days. Zhang Wei experienced every motion with startling clarity. Each muscle fiber grew stronger, every neural path sharpened. Knowledge poured into him, not as abstract data, but as visceral understanding. Strikes that once cleaved inches of wood now split ancient oaks with a single, flawless motion.
The training climaxed. The faceless warrior faced a colossal ironbark tree, its trunk scarred by seasons of storms. One fluid motion. The blade sang through the air. The great tree groaned, creaked, then surrendered to gravity, crashing to the forest floor with a thunderous finality. The phantom warrior sheathed his weapon with ceremonial grace.
Flash!
Everything faded to white.
Zhang Wei opened his eyes and immediately felt different. Energy flowed through his body like fire in his veins. His muscles, especially in his arms and chest, had grown larger and stronger. He'd been lean before, but now he actually had some muscle.
Even better, all the small cuts and bruises from his morning fights had completely healed.
"The technique actually strengthens my body?" Zhang Wei said, surprised. He had expected only knowledge, but this made sense. Advanced swordplay required a body capable of executing it.
He looked at the sun. Almost noon.
Then at the mess around him from the fight. The smell of blood hung heavy in the air.
"It's almost noon. I'd better get back home."
This much blood would attract every predator in the area. Zhang Wei shook his head, gripped his sword for comfort, and started running back toward his family's territory. His figure disappeared into the forest just as distant roars began echoing through the trees—other beasts drawn by the scent of fresh blood.
As he ran through the familiar paths, Zhang Wei noticed movement ahead. A bush trembled, then something shot out toward him—a huge mouth lined with sharp teeth.
"Looking for death!"
Instead of fear, Zhang Wei felt excited. He was itching to test his new power, like a kid with a new toy. He wasn't worried about losing either. Most beasts in this area were weak, and the strong ones had already been hunted down by his family. His confidence had grown a lot after the upgrade. He didn't think anything here could beat him now.
Zhang Wei drew his sword and slashed forward, aiming for the fast-moving creature attacking him. The sword cleared its sheath in one smooth motion. Familiar muscle memory emerged, guiding his first strike through the air where the attacking creature had been.
But his enhanced vision caught something his old reflexes might have missed—a blur of serpentine motion, dodging his slash with uncanny agility.
Whoosh!
His eyes tracked the blurry, whip-like thing as it dodged his first strike. He made another horizontal slash that cut through the air.
"Schrieeeek!"
A roar full of pain rang out. The attacker tried to dodge his second slash, but Zhang Wei's sword was too fast. It couldn't escape. The attacking appendage, caught mid-strike by his blade, was severed cleanly, sending streams of greenish ichor spraying across the forest floor.
Swipe.
He sheathed his sword and looked back to see the attacker cut cleanly in half. It was some kind of large plant with a mouth bigger than his head, lined with razor-sharp teeth.
The creature possessed a massive mouth, easily twice the size of a human head, lined with rows of thorn-sharp teeth that seemed designed more for tearing than chewing. Its body was plant-like in nature—thick, woody stems and broad leaves that had been expertly camouflaged among the natural undergrowth. Vines that had served as both limbs and weapons lay severed and still, leaking sap that smelled of copper and decay.
"A plant monster?" Zhang Wei stared at the strange creature. He'd never seen anything like it before in these mountains. This was definitely not on any of the family's maps.
If unknown creatures were starting to appear in their territory, it might mean bigger changes were coming to the southern lands. But that was a problem for later. Right now, he needed to go back home and eat his favorite food. His stomach was practically growling after all this hard work.
Zhang Wei sprinted down the winding forest path, his footsteps steady, almost weightless. The trees began to thin as the trail leveled out, and the scent of pine and blood gave way to fresh mountain air.
Soon, the path opened to a breathtaking view—stone terraces etched into the mountainside, layered like giant steps carved by time itself. Waterfalls trickled down the rocks, feeding emerald pools and lush gardens that shimmered in the sunlight.
At the highest point, nestled against the sheer cliff, stood the Vale Family Estate: a fortress of silver-veined stone and sloped moss-tiled roofs, with crystal lanterns glowing faintly even in daylight.
Guards in gray and green armor stood watch at the arched gate, but they gave Zhang Wei a nod and let him pass without a word.
The outer courtyard was quiet this time of day. Training grounds lay empty, though the scuffed stones and shattered targets spoke of early-morning drills. The Vale family trained hard—they always had, ever since their ancestors first stepped into the ranks of nobility. Hard work had become a family habit and trait.
Zhang Wei slowed to a walk as he entered the central hall. The familiar scent of herbs, metal, and clean stone filled his lungs. Servants moved like clockwork—silent, precise, backs slightly bowed even when they thought no one was looking. Somewhere deeper in the estate, the clink of training swords echoed faintly.
A servant passed him with a polite bow, then paused.
"Welcome back, Young Master Ethan. Madam has been asking for you."
Zhang Wei blinked. "Mother?"
"She said... if you returned with blood on your clothes, she'd know what happened."
He looked down at himself. Blood on his boots. A little dried green slime on his tunic. Definitely not subtle.
"...Guess I should wash up."
Before the servant could answer, a rumble of distant thunder echoed across the mountains. No storm clouds in sight. Zhang Wei paused, eyes narrowing. That sound—it wasn't natural.
It was the bell tower. Three slow tolls.
Everyone in the Vale family knew what that meant: a child between the ages of eight and twelve had awakened.
"Someone awakened..." Zhang Wei murmured, a faint trace of jealousy in his voice.
He was already fourteen—almost fifteen—and still hadn't awakened his magic. In this world, the earlier you awakened, the more talented you were. Not just because of raw power, but because you had more time to refine, train, and grow.
Someone who awakened at eighteen would never dream of competing with someone who awakened at five. It was like asking an elementary student to challenge a top university scholar. The gap wasn't completely impossible to bridge—but it was damn close. A distance between heaven and earth.
Shaking his head to rid himself of pessimism, Zhang Wei clenched his fist and continued walking as the servants discussed the meaning of the bell and who had awakened.
"I heard it was Fourth Madam's middle child who awakened this time."
"Really? Why are her children always so talented? First that fire magic prodigy, now this..."
"I wouldn't be surprised if the First Wife's position starts to shake soon."
"Shhh! Keep your voice down. That's not something we should be saying out loud."
"My bad, my bad..."
The servants quickly looked around, then went back to work as if nothing had happened.
Zhang Wei heard it all but didn't care. Why would he help anyone who made his life a living hell? He would be ecstatic and wake up laughing in his sleep if that bitch had more enemies. As the saying goes, the enemy of my enemy is my friend—he was grateful and had a good impression of this group of servants.
And it would be his greatest kindness if he didn't kill her when he got stronger, after all she had done to him and his mother.
"Well, well! If it isn't our family's greatest disappointment!"
The voice hit like a slap. Servants froze, then vanished like birds sensing a coming storm. No one wanted to be present when the noble sons of the Vale clashed—witnesses had a habit of being punished for knowing too much.
Zhang Wei stopped mid-step, spine tightening, jaw clenched. He didn't need to look to know who it was.
"Jasper," he said without turning.
His half-brother stood a few paces away, sunlight catching in his immaculate white hair, casting his features in a cold, angelic glow. His face was the kind that graced paintings—sharp, symmetrical, and utterly without warmth. But it was his eyes—those pale, glacial eyes—that carried the true cruelty.
Once, they'd been close. But that was before Jasper awakened his ice magic at eleven. Before he decided that magic didn't just make him better—it made him untouchable.
"Look at you," Jasper sneered, striding closer. "You smell like blood and rot. Are you trying to cosplay as a peasant? Or did you actually think training with that dull metal toy of yours meant something?"
Zhang Wei said nothing. His fingers itched toward the sword at his hip, but he knew better.
Jasper stopped in front of him, tilting his head, mock concern twisting his lips.
Then he casually dug into his nose with a long, pale finger, examined the results like a bored child inspecting insects, and without hesitation, wiped it on Zhang Wei's shoulder.
"There," he said sweetly. "Something to match your status."
Zhang Wei didn't flinch. Didn't scowl. Didn't even blink.
His eyes simply locked onto Jasper's with a quiet, steady calm.
That alone caused a flicker—just a flicker—of confusion to cross Jasper's perfect face.
"...Huh," he muttered, stepping back half a pace. "That usually gets a rise out of you."
Zhang Wei tilted his head, voice low and tired. "You're still doing that childish crap? I thought being awakened meant growing up."
Jasper blinked. The smirk faltered for a half-second—like a performer forgetting his lines.
Then he recovered, eyes narrowing, ice beginning to frost across his fingertips.
"Careful, brother," he said, menace creeping back into his voice. "You forget your place."
"No," Zhang Wei said. "I know it better than anyone."
Jasper stepped closer again, regaining his swagger. "Let me remind you. You're a waste of noble blood. A broken link in our lineage. You think swinging that stick around in the woods will make up for the magic you'll never have?"
He leaned in, voice barely above a whisper.
"They say Father only kept you around because pity makes him feel noble. Even the dogs in this estate have more potential than you."
Zhang Wei said nothing. His hand rested near his sword hilt, but didn't move. His face remained calm.
Jasper tilted his head again, frowning—this time, with genuine irritation.
"Where's the fire? The tantrums? The pathetic bravado?" He chuckled tightly. "Don't tell me you've finally accepted your fate."
Zhang Wei slowly looked down at the smear on his shoulder, then back up. Calm. Cold.
"You're not worth the anger anymore."
Something in Jasper's jaw twitched. The insult should've bounced off—but instead, it landed like a pebble in still water, sending ripples through his arrogance.
He blinked, lips parting slightly—uncertain whether he'd just been insulted or dismissed.
Then his pride surged forward to fill the gap.
"Oh, that's rich." Jasper scoffed, stepping in again, frost crackling faintly at his fingertips. His voice lowered, biting. "You're right. I'm not worth it. I'm worth far more. Magic awakener. Elite lineage. Father's favorite."
He leaned in, breath cold against Zhang Wei's cheek.
"Meanwhile you—"
His eyes swept Zhang Wei from boots to brow with theatrical disgust.
"—you're a sword-wielding servant in noble clothes. A half-blood disgrace still clinging to delusions."
He paused, letting the words hang.
"Everyone's just waiting for the day you give up and leave. Maybe jump from the cliffs. Don't worry. I'll mourn you properly—perhaps five whole minutes."
Zhang Wei's grip on his sword hilt tightened, knuckles pale. His heart pounded—not from fear, but from the helpless fury of a predator leashed and mocked by prey dressed in divine robes.
But he let it pass.
Because no matter how sharp his blade, it still couldn't cut magic.
The silence between them stretched again—thick, oppressive.
Finally, Jasper scoffed and turned. "Whatever. Just remember: no matter how much you train, you'll always be just a shadow behind real power."
He walked away, frost still crackling behind his steps, his voice drifting back without him turning around.
"Try to scrub that off before dinner. You stink."
Zhang Wei watched him go without a word.
He then said softly:
"Fool, do you really think I would be angry over this?"
But I am angry.
Shaking his head, he headed toward his private bathroom to take a bath and cleanse himself of filth.
"Magic... I need to awaken soon, no matter what!"
Clenching his fist, Zhang Wei swore to work hard in the coming days to awaken his magic. He couldn't bear to live a life like this—always bullied and swallowing the humiliation.
Not only is a life like this sad and depressing, but it is also bad for one's health.
Evidence has been presented and shown time and again that people living in high-stress, monotonous environments are more likely to lose motivation in life and succumb to the status quo. Some even get a terminal illness in return.
It's a choice: either you break free and escape, or you are trapped inside, never able to get out.
So, if you are young and promising, don't work in high-stress environments like factories, as it will wear away your ambition and extinguish your youthful dreams and energy.