Chapter four: The Awakening
The crowd was buzzing with nonsensical noise, they were like flies trying to get a bite out of shit.
Drake gave them a grin that signalled "disaster."
"I–is it really him"
"No way, it can't be right?"
"I heard he got kidnapped"
"What I heard he got killed by the first wife"
The whispers were loud despite them being whispers.
People talked. People talked nothing but shit and crap.
Drake didn't pay attention to the rumours he was focused on a few particular people on the estate.
Even his presence alone drew the eyes of the f**king people.
And then, silence fell.
Near the front of the crowd stood Selene Primordia, third wife of the patriarch. Her golden hair gleamed like sunlight, her noble blue eyes sharp and regal. Known across the continent as the Dancing Sword Angel, she was the strongest woman alive, feared and admired in equal measure. Yet in this moment, she wasn't the continent's warrior. She was simply a mother.
Her breath caught in her throat, and tears brimmed in her eyes.
"…Drake."
Beside her stood a girl who looked so much like him it was eerie—his twin sister, Drakelle.
Her black hair framed a face nearly identical to his own, though her features carried a sharper confidence, honed by talent. And her eyes—crimson, just like his—widened in shock.
Drakelle had never stopped wondering where her brother had gone. She had grown, awakened, trained, and excelled, but his absence had lingered like a phantom.
And now, here he was.
When their eyes met, Drake's lips curved into the smallest of smiles. It wasn't his usual cruel grin, nor the malice-filled sneer he gave to enemies. It was softer. Human.
Drakelle's throat tightened. Her hands trembled.
And then—both she and Selene moved at once.
"Drake!"
They ran to him, arms wrapping around his small body. His cloak crumpled under the force of their embrace, his sister burying her face against his shoulder, his mother clutching him as though she might never let go.
"You're alive," Selene whispered, her voice breaking. "You're really alive."
Drake's heart, hardened by two lives of betrayal, almost cracked. Almost. He allowed himself to return the embrace briefly before pulling back, crimson eyes softening at his mother and sister.
"I told you I'd come back," he said quietly.
For a fleeting moment, there was warmth. For a fleeting moment, there was family.
And then—
The air trembled.
A crushing weight descended upon the courtyard. The world itself turned red in colour, nobles fell to their knees, gasping as though gravity itself had tripled. Servants collapsed, trembling, unable to lift their heads. Even some elders staggered.
It wasn't mana. It wasn't aura. It was pure killing intent.
The source stood at the center of the courtyard.
A man whose hair was white as snow, whose eyes burned red like rubies of blood. His presence was absolute, his aura like a sword pressed against every throat. He was the patriarch of the Primordia family.
Cassian Primordia.
The Sword Emperor. The strongest man on the continent. A 12th rank and, by rumor, something even greater.
His crimson gaze swept the crowd, locking on Drake.
It felt as if the boy's bones might snap under the pressure.
Yet Drake did not kneel. His crimson eyes, reborn and sharpened by the Dragon God's essence, met Cassian's without flinching. For a moment, the world was silent except for the suffocating hum of oppression.
And then—Selene's voice broke through.
"Please, patriarch," she said calmly, her tone respectful yet unwavering. "We have visitors today. Behave yourself."
A ripple of disbelief passed through the crowd. No one dared speak to Cassian that way. No one—except Selene.
The pressure vanished, leaving nobles gasping for breath, clutching their chests. Cassian's expression remained unreadable, his eyes lingering on Drake a second longer before he looked away.
The ceremony resumed.
One by one, the children of the Primordia stepped forward. Before them stood a giant stone wall, grey and unyielding. This was the family's sacred artifact of Awakening. To touch it was to reveal the attributes of one's soul.
If the wall remained blank, the child was trash. If it glowed, their attributes appeared in shining letters and symbols.
Drakelle stepped forward confidently.
Already, she had awakened gravity and shadow. Now, she would test for her third. Her small hand pressed against the cold stone. The wall shimmered, glowing brightly, and then letters appeared.
[Earth]
Gasps erupted through the crowd.
"Three attributes!"
"She's already a genius among geniuses, and now—earth?"
"The twin daughter is destined for greatness."
Drakelle stepped back, her eyes shining with pride, but also flicking once more toward her brother.
And then it was Drake's turn.
The crowd hushed. Most expected nothing. A boy who had failed his first Awakening, who had disappeared for two years. At best, perhaps he would scrape by with one meager attribute.
Drake approached the wall, his cloak dragging across the stones. He placed his palm against its surface.
The world held its breath.
At first, nothing.
Then—
CRACK.
The wall split beneath his hand. Fractures spiderwebbed across its surface, the ground beneath his feet trembling. Mana surged, wild and uncontrollable, as though the artifact itself struggled to contain what it had touched.
And then, in blazing letters across the wall, three attributes burned into existence:
[Special Black and White Lightning]
[Gravity]
[Void]
The courtyard exploded with shouts and gasps.
"Impossible!"
"He awakened all three!"
"Not just three—look at them! Black and white lightning? Void?!"
"That boy was supposed to be trash!"
Selene's hand flew to her mouth, tears streaming again—not of sorrow, but of pride. Drakelle's crimson eyes widened, awe and joy mixing in her face.
Drake stepped back, his expression calm, but inside, a storm raged. He had done it. He had shattered the fate that once called him empty. He wasn't trash anymore. He was a monster, a usurper, a prodigy no one could have predicted.
And then—
Just for a moment.
A flicker.
Drake's gaze caught Cassian's.
And the Sword Emperor, the man who had nearly crushed the courtyard under his killing intent, the strongest man alive…
Grinned.
It wasn't warm. It wasn't fatherly. It was sharp, dangerous, almost gleeful.
And it sent a shiver down Drake's spine.
What did it mean? Approval? Amusement? Or was it the grin of a predator who had just found prey worth hunting?
Whatever it was, Drake knew one thing.
His path had only just begun.