It was really a mess.
The tangled threads of my past, my present, and Draeven's fate had woven themselves into a single, complicated life.
It was unfair, a cruel cosmic joke, but I managed to have set things in mind.
This body was dying from not bearing this condition, and here I was, having arrived and saved it.
My detached, emotionally stunted personality was its cure, and in a twisted exchange, the body's latent resilience and calculated mind were becoming mine.
We became one.
My purpose now remained the same, apparently.
Don't care for anyone.
Survive.
Live comfortably.
Do not get hurt again.
The stakes were just higher now: physical pain could lead to spontaneous hemorrhage.
Next morning, the light was sharp and clear, a clean start.
I tried to resonate myself with the body.
I'm sixteen.
I'm sure I learned magic.
The journals had confirmed years of lessons.
I focused, pushing past the constant, dull thrum of the Mana Instability that Marcus had described.
I sought a pathway, a familiar route through the body's stored knowledge.
I focused on the idea of power, of self.
I think the body remembers how.
I tried to access whatever muscle memory or mental conditioning the original Draeven had possessed.
I didn't find memory, but I found something else entirely. A response from a deeper place.
Then it came, from the soul.
It was like a system from the video games in my past life.
A translucent panel shimmered into existence in my mind's eye, invisible to the outside world, yet startlingly real.
║Soul Status║
Name: Draeven Vaelir de Morvaine
Age: 16
Condition: Chronic Mana Instability
Trait: Silent Dominion
Affinity: None
Mana Rank: F
Strength: F
Agility: E
Endurance: F
Magic Power: F
Intelligence: B
Willpower: A
'I have a system!'
The sheer wonder of the realization was immediately tempered by the statistical reality.
I'm really weak.
My physical attributes—Strength, Endurance, and even Magic Power—were all at the bottom rank, F.
The only positive scores were my Intelligence at B and my Willpower at a solid A.
That explained why I hadn't collapsed yet; my mental fortitude was high, a necessary trait for someone living in a constant state of internal turbulence.
My Mana Rank was also F, signifying minimal, usable magical power despite the high potential that caused the Chronic Mana Instability.
But my trait sounds good.
Silent Dominion.
'What does that even mean? It sounds like it fits the whole cold, aloof persona, but what does it do?'
It was another mystery, another piece of the Draeven Morvaine puzzle, and the first sign that this body held a hidden key to power.
A weak body with a powerful trait, a high Willpower, and a calculating mind.
The family dinner tomorrow was going to be the least of my concerns if I could figure out how to leverage these hidden abilities.
'It can be... examined!'
I thought, a sudden, cold thrill of excitement cutting through my usual indifference.
The system panel wasn't just a static display; it was interactive.
When I focused on what my trait could do, the letters disappeared and another panel appeared, overlapping the previous one.
I didn't click or speak a command; I merely focused my will, a mental directive.
║Silent Dominion║
Rank: Eclipser
•A sovereign aura that commands fear itself.
I got the general idea immediately.
My innate ability wasn't about casting stronger fireballs or moving faster.
It was psychological warfare, an aura that radiated out and instilled fear and obedience.
'A sovereign aura that commands fear itself.'
It perfectly matched the cold, unapproachable atmosphere the original Draeven had created.
It wasn't just his attitude making people nervous; it was an active, inherent power.
This explained the servants' terror, regardless of my actions but only in minimal stage.
They weren't just afraid of me; they were being subtly commanded by my trait to fear me.
But what I was more stunned by was the skill rank.
My eyes scanned the displayed rank: Eclipser.
I struggled to reconcile the term with the history I had just absorbed.
From what I read, the skills are ranked from Ember to Veil, Aether, Arcanist, Ascendant, Sovereign, and finally the strongest, Eclipser, which is only in legends together with Sovereign.
This was a profound discovery.
The most powerful human traits known was only at Ascendant, which was possessed only by the heads of the great families and imperial blood.
My father, the Grand Duke, likely had an Ascendant ranked trait.
'My trait is a legend, something that shouldn't exist in a living person,' I thought.
My heart rate spiking dangerously before my ingrained detachment slammed it back down.
The physical weakness was extreme, but the potential power was absolute.
I needed to keep my trait rank a secret.
Revealing an Eclipser ranked trait, especially one related to dominion and fear, would be catastrophic.
It would invite intense scrutiny from the Empire, fear from my own family, and assassination attempts from every rival political faction.
I couldn't afford to strain my body or expose my advantage.
I mentally dismissed the system panel, the glowing text fading instantly.
I was weak, but I possessed a legendary power and a perfect disguise of aloof fragility.
The family dinner tonight was now less a trial and more an opportunity to test the waters while hiding a catastrophic, world-breaking secret.
The excitement came short.
The immense power of the Eclipser-ranked trait, the ability to command fear itself, was intoxicating, but the immediate, cold reality brought me crashing back to earth.
I realized that while it was true that I was affecting the ones around me, be it only minimal, I didn't know how to control it!
My Silent Dominion was an always-on function.
It explained why the servants were constantly terrified, why they moved so quietly, and why they seemed desperate to get away from me—it wasn't just my reputation; it was the passive, uncontrolled output of my legendary trait.
'I feel bad... They already see me pitiful from my condition but also fear from my trait...'
Every moment I spent around them was a constant psychological assault, a fact that was unsettling even for my detached self.
'I need to find a way to toggle this, to dampen the Aura, or I'll never have a moment of genuine human interaction, and worse, I might accidentally push someone past their breaking point,' I thought, the coldness returning as a survival imperative.
Anyway, it was time for departure.
I had wasted enough time dwelling on my weaknesses and my new, uncontrolled power.
Today was the family dinner at the main palace.
The servants from yesterday knocked and asked me about taking a bath first before breakfast or the other way around.
Marcus and the two maids were already positioned at the door, their expressions tight with that familiar, suppressed fear.
"Your Highness, the time for your departure is approaching. Would you prefer to take your bath before breakfast, or would you like to dine first?"
Marcus asked, his voice steady despite the anxiety I could feel radiating from him.
We chatted.
I seized the opportunity to gather more low-stakes information and to test my minimal interactions.
I chose a mundane route, hoping to keep my emotions—and my Mana—stable.
"Breakfast first," I stated simply, allowing a fraction of a pause.
Then, I added, "How is the weather this morning? Will the journey be comfortable?"
The question was innocuous, but Marcus's relief was palpable.
He launched into a detailed, careful report about the temperature, the well-sprung carriage, and the preparations made for my comfort.
The two maids, standing behind him, offered details about the morning's menu.
It wasn't a true chat, not a conversation between equals, but it was an exchange of words where I successfully maintained the mask of the aloof prince without causing a panic.
Every carefully measured word and controlled breath was a victory against my own fragile, powerful body.
The journey to the palace was beginning now, and I needed every piece of stability I could muster.
Wow, the carriage was four-wheeled.
My previous life's concept of luxury transport involved expensive sports cars, not this immense, rolling edifice of wealth.
It had four big horses, magnificent beasts with polished harnesses and plumes in their manes, pulling the ornate vehicle.
The carriage itself was big, too.
The emblem of House Morvaine was prominent at front.
It was grand and luxurious in every way, carved and gilded, with deep, tinted windows and cushions that promised a ride smoother than anything I had experienced.
It was a moving statement of the Morvaine family's colossal status and power.
After taking a bath and breakfast, I didn't tarry and moved immediately outside the estate for the prepared ride.
The servants were lined up, their silent, fearful deference almost suffocating. But this... was really... overwhelming.
The sheer scale of the operation, the number of guards and attendants involved in moving one young noble a few hours down the road, confirmed that I was now operating at a level of aristocracy I had only read about.
I settled into the plush seat, maintaining my aloof posture—a necessary defense against my own fragile body.
As we traveled further, I finally saw the entirety of the estate.
The view from inside the carriage was panoramic.
The mansion was truly grand, its architecture a masterpiece of ancient, powerful design.
And the gardens around it—sprawling, manicured lands with fountains and intricate hedgerows that stretched seemingly to the horizon.
This wasn't a home; it was a small fortress city dedicated to my well-being.
I'll see my new family soon.
The thought was a cold knot in my stomach.