Pain was the first thing to return. It was a dull, throbbing ache that radiated from the marrow of his bones, screaming of broken ribs and a shattered dantian.
The man who had once been known as the Demon Lord Asura on Earth opened his eyes. Instead of the sterile white of a hospital room or the fiery pits of the underworld he expected, he stared up at a rotting wooden ceiling. The smell of mold and stale blood assaulted his nose.
He tried to sit up, but his body refused. It was weak—pathetic, really. A cough ripped through his chest, bringing up a mouthful of iron-tasting bile.
Transmigration? he thought, his mind working with a cold, razor-sharp precision that contrasted the frailty of his vessel. I died fighting the Global Alliance. And now I am... here.
A flood of foreign memories assaulted his hippocampus, merging with his own consciousness like oil and water before violently emulsifying.
Name: Kaelen Vane.
Status: Third Young Master of the Vane Family.
Reputation: Trash. Cripple. Disgrace.
He absorbed the boy's life in seconds. Kaelen was eighteen, born with a blocked meridian system in a world where Qi Cultivation dictated one's worth. In the Vane Family, a mid-tier martial clan in the Azure Dragon Empire, he was worse than a servant. He was a punching bag for his brothers, an embarrassment to his father, and a source of amusement for the servants.
The injuries he currently sustained weren't from an accident. They were from a "duel."
Just hours ago, in the Grand Hall, his fiancée, Lady Elara of the Frost Sect, had publicly annulled their engagement. She was a genius destined for the heavens; he was mud. To add insult to injury, his older brother, Thorne, had challenged him to a spar to "defend the family's honor," resulting in Kaelen being beaten within an inch of his life while their father watched in silence.
"Pathetic," the new Kaelen whispered, his voice raspy. "You died of heartbreak and internal bleeding. Weakness is a sin, boy. But your body is mine now."
The door to the shack—he wasn't even allowed in the main manor—creaked open.
A servant stepped in, carrying a bowl of what looked like pig slop. The man sneered when he saw Kaelen's open eyes. "Oh? The trash is still breathing? Master Thorne bet ten spirit stones you'd be dead by sunset."
The servant walked over and kicked the bed frame. "Eat up, cripple. If you die, I have to drag your carcass to the corpse pit, and it's raining."
Kaelen—no, the Sovereign—looked at the servant. The boy's old memories triggered fear, but the new soul felt only a profound, icy contempt.
"Put the bowl down," Kaelen said softly.
The servant laughed, spitting on the floor. "Ordering me around? You're not a Young Master anymore. The Patriarch stripped your title after the Lady Elara left. You're just a leech consuming the family's rice."
The servant reached out to grab Kaelen's hair, intending to force-feed him.
Survival Rule 1: Eliminate immediate threats.
Despite the agony, Kaelen's hand moved. It wasn't fast by cultivation standards, but it was technically perfect. He caught the servant's wrist, his thumb pressing into a specific pressure point—the Hegu point—with every ounce of strength his frail body possessed.
"Argh!" The servant shrieked, dropping the bowl. The pain was blinding, bypassing the nerves to shock the brain directly.
Kaelen didn't stop. He used the servant's momentum to pull him down, driving the man's throat onto the jagged edge of the broken wooden bed frame.
Crack.
The servant gurgled, eyes bulging, as his windpipe collapsed. He slumped over, twitching.
Kaelen released the wrist, his chest heaving. His vision blurred. Killing a mortal servant took nearly all his stamina.
"This body... is garbage," he hissed, wiping the blood from his hand onto the dirty sheets. "Blocked meridians. Atrophied muscles. Malnutrition. I can't cultivate Qi like this."
In this world, without strength, he would just be killed again. His brother Thorne would likely finish the job tomorrow.
He needed an edge. He needed power.
Ding!
A mechanical chime, crisp and synthetic, rang in his skull. It was a sound that didn't belong in this ancient fantasy world.
A translucent blue screen materialized in his retina.
> [System Initialization Complete]
> [Host Detected: Anomaly]
> [Soul Resonance: 100%]
> Welcome to the Sovereign Domination System.
> Current Objective: Survive the Night.
>
Kaelen's lips curled into a bloodstained smile. A System. The crutch of the weak, the weapon of the ambitious.
"Show me my stats," he commanded mentally.
> [Status Window]
> Name: Kaelen Vane
> Race: Human
> Cultivation: None (Blocked Meridians)
> Physique: Broken (Critical Condition)
> Talent: Trash (Grade F)
> Hidden Trait Detected: [Soul of the Demon Lord] (Locked)
> Starter Pack Available.
> Do you wish to open it? [Y/N]
>
"Open it," Kaelen rasped.
> [Opening Starter Pack...]
> Obtained:
> * Pill of Bone Forging (High Grade): Heals injuries and strengthens bone density.
> * Cultivation Technique: Heaven-Devouring Scripture (Forbidden Rank).
> * Passive Skill: Pain Nullification (Level 1).
>
A small wooden box appeared in his lap out of thin air. Inside sat a crimson pill radiating a faint, metallic heat.
Kaelen didn't hesitate. He swallowed the pill dry.
Fire exploded in his stomach. It wasn't the gentle warmth of healing; it was the brutal, reconstructing fire of a forge. He could feel his shattered ribs snapping back into place, knitting together with agonizing speed. His meridians, clogged with silt and impurities, were being forcefully scoured by the pill's potency.
Normally, a human would scream. But the [Pain Nullification] kicked in. The agony became a distant data point, information rather than suffering.
He sat cross-legged, his eyes closing as he accessed the Heaven-Devouring Scripture.
Unlike the righteous cultivation methods of the Vane family that relied on absorbing ambient Qi slowly, the Heaven-Devouring Scripture was tyrannical. It didn't ask the world for energy; it stole it. It devoured life force, resentment, and raw Qi alike.
"Perfect," Kaelen whispered.
He inhaled.
The air in the shack grew cold. The faint wisp of spirit energy lingering in the servant's fresh corpse was pulled out—a grey mist that drifted into Kaelen's nose.
Whoosh.
A vortex formed in his dantian. The blockage shattered.
> [System Alert]
> Congenital Blockage Removed.
> Cultivation Base Established: Body Refining Stage 1.
>
Kaelen opened his eyes. The hazel iris of the original host was gone, replaced by a deep, abyssal black. He stood up, the weakness vanished. He was still thin, still malnourished, but the foundation had been laid.
He looked at the dead servant. Then he looked toward the door, toward the Vane manor where lights flickered and music played, celebrating his engagement annulment.
"Thorne. Elara. Father," Kaelen listed the names like items on a grocery list. "You wanted a villain? You wanted a monster to trample on to prove your superiority?"
He stepped over the corpse, walking into the rainy night.
"Congratulations. You found one."