Le Wei stared at the scroll suspended before him.
It floated in midair, unbound by string or wind. Its edges were frayed like silk worn by centuries, yet its surface shimmered with an inner, almost sacred light. Wisps of mist coiled around it..whispering, vanishing like the breath of ancient mountain peaks, thick with incense and forgotten prayers.
He didn't dare breathe.
The parchment was translucent yet vivid, inked with characters that burned red as blood moonlight, their strokes edged in flickers of sapphire fire. Each rune pulsed like a distant war drum, resonating deep in his bones—calling to something older than language.
Something inside him answered.
[Crimson Heir]
The title appeared, glowing with quiet authority.
It twisted his gut. It was foreign and familiar all at once, like hearing your name spoken in a dream by a voice you couldn't place...one that knew you better than you knew yourself.
His lips moved unconsciously. "Crimson Heir...?"
[Titles: Wrathborne, Emberborn]
Wrathborne? Emberborn?
He didn't remember these names. But his blood stirred at the sight of them..like a chime struck in the marrow of his bones. The titles felt like echoes returned to their source. As though they had been carved into his soul in some forgotten lifetime, now circling back like ancestral spirits called home.
[Talent: Mirrorbrand (Mimic Arts)]
[Abilities: Beast Summoner, Blue Flame Affinity]
[Rank: Initiate – Kaishi]
His gaze flickered from line to line, each word a blow to the barrier between disbelief and truth. It made no sense. And yet… it made too much sense.
Beast Summoner…
That explained the six spectral beasts that had manifested in the clearing—beasts with eyes like dying stars and forms that rippled like water reflecting memory.
Mirrorbrand. Mimic Arts.
The term made his tongue heavy. It sounded ancient, arcane… dangerous.
"No," he whispered, blinking rapidly. "This… this isn't real."
He took a shaky step back. The scroll didn't move, but the air around it seemed to lean forward, like the world itself refused to let him turn away.
It wasn't a hallucination. It wasn't a dream.
Then the scroll shimmered, responding to his denial. The parchment rippled like the surface of a sacred lake disturbed by a pebble.
And new text began to write itself in glowing, deliberate strokes.
[System Awakening...]
[Source: Forbidden Scroll]
[Awakening Complete... Welcome back, Crimson Heir]
Then, as if exhaling, the scroll bled crimson ink from its center. The symbols unraveled into verse...each line carved in light, delicate, yet unshakable:
[He who remembers all,
He bears the weight of echoes past,
A soul unchained from time's cruel cast.
From broken truths and silent lands,
He'll mend the world with trembling hands.
The heir returns, where ashes stand.]
Le Wei couldn't breathe.
He couldn't think.
A system? I have… an energy system?
His mind reeled. The world tilted, then spun.
He stumbled backward, hand clutching his chest. His heart pounded wildly, like it was trying to escape. "When? How? I don't even know how to use these systems… I've only read about them...barely..in a dusty old book no one else wanted."
This can't be happening.
The realization hit him like a hammer to the skull.
No cultivation.
No rigorous training under a master's stern eye.
No incense rituals, no sacred jade pills, no enlightenment under waterfalls.
Nothing.
All he did…
Was read a dusty old book.
And touch a scroll older than time. That cursed scroll.
It defied every rule. Every structure. Every sacred teaching he had ever known.
"Is it… alive?" he whispered.
He stepped back again. And again.
But the scroll followed. Not physically, but in presence..like a shadow beneath his soul. Quiet. Watching. Refusing to be forgotten– life a persistent ghost.
"What the hell is this?" His voice cracked.
For a moment, there was only silence. Dense. Suffocating.
Then
CHING!!
A sound like jade wind chimes struck by a ghost breeze.
It echoed in his skull and his ribs.
The script on the scroll shifted once more.
[Defining System…]
[The Crimson Heir: One who bears all energy roots—both forbidden and divine.]
[Purpose (hidden in past life memory): Rekindle the lost. Inherit the sealed. Break the cycle. Rewrite the Heavens.]
He felt it then. The weight of the words.
Not on his shoulders, but in his blood. In his spirit. In the marrow of his soul.
Break the cycle? Rewrite the Heavens?
He laughed.
It was sharp. Ugly. Hollow.
"You've made a mistake," he muttered. "I'm not the one. I'm not chosen. I'm not some tragic hero with a sword and a bloodline. I'm not some sort of antihero prophecy..I'm not even brave. I'm just—"
He stopped.
The wind stirred. The trees rustled. The scorched grass trembled beneath his feet. Even the crows in the distance fell silent.
It was as though nature itself rejected his denial.
And then–
[You are not chosen.]
[The Crimson Heir chooses.]
The scroll's final answer rang like a temple bell in his chest. Final. Cold.
He couldn't argue. He couldn't move.
He looked down at his hands.
The glow had faded...but he still felt it. A second heartbeat beneath his skin. Heat in his palms. Like something ancient had wrapped itself around his core.
Whatever this was...
It had entered him and it wasn't leaving.
"I didn't choose anything," he whispered. "I just… found a book. Touched a scroll."
The scroll dimmed, flickering.
Then, with calm finality..
[You chose the scroll.]
The parchment pulsed once. Then dissolved...into motes of golden light, like fireflies born from flame. They scattered into the dusk, dancing on the wind.
No farewell.
No sound.
Only silence.
But it was no longer empty.
It was full with memory, with weight, with a destiny that had wrapped around him like unseen chains.
Something immense now coiled within him. Waiting. Watching.
Something that had waited far too long.
And Le Wei…
He was no longer the same.
He turned slowly, legs trembling beneath him, to where the book still lay...its pages scorched, blackened at the edges. Most of the text had vanished, burned by the heat of the scroll's aura.
Only one line remained, branded into the leather cover like a scar...
"He who reads shall remember."
His fingers brushed over it.
His breath shuddered in and out of his lungs. His hands were shaking. His heart still beat like a war drum.
He wanted to run. To deny everything.
But he couldn't.
The truth had been forced into his hands. Pressed into his veins.
And the world…his life....
It would never be the same again.
He took a deep breath. One step forward. Then another.
Towards the trees. Towards the hut.
Towards a fate already unraveling in secret threads beneath his feet.
There was no going back.
He didn't know what kind of heir he was supposed to be.
Didn't know why the beasts had answered him.
Didn't know what power now pulsed in his bones.
But he would find out.
One step at a time.
One truth at a time.
And when the world came looking for him?
He would be ready.
Even if it meant burning it down to rebuild it from ash.
"Duality" he muttered in menace and anger....