The ruins called to him.
Not with words, but with heat. Pulse. Pressure.
The Sovereign Core within his chest burned like a second heart, its rhythm discordant with his own. Each thud dragged him back to where the temple slept—black stone swallowing the stars above Ironshade's outskirts.
Kairo stood once more before the sealed door.
It opened without touch.
Without resistance.
Inside, the red glow returned.
Veins of crimson light throbbed across the stone like a heartbeat made from molten iron.
A voice, deep and ancient, echoed in his mind:
"Sovereign Candidate: Initiating Blood Trial."
His vision blurred.
Then the world shattered.
He awoke in a place that was not a place—
a floating expanse of ash and silence. Gray clouds hung above a shattered arena made of obsidian bone. Blood mist hovered in the air like breath made solid.
Across from him stood a figure.
Himself.
But not.
This version wore no hesitation, no fear. His red eyes burned with certainty. His arms, traced with runes. A crown of bone floated just above his head like a promise.
He smiled. "I accepted it. The blood. The truth. The Reign."
Kairo raised his fists. "You're just a hallucination."
"No," said the Sovereign reflection. "I'm who you could've been. If you stopped begging for scraps… and started claiming thrones."
The Trial began.
No weapons.
Only instinct and blood.
The other Kairo moved first—a blur of violence. Blood twisted mid-air into spears, needles, razors. Kairo dodged, barely, the Sovereign's attacks slicing through the ground with unnatural precision.
He countered.
A spike of his own blood lanced from his palm. His heartbeat drove the motion, the Sovereign Core fueling him. For a moment, they were matched—parrying strike for strike in a whirlwind of red steel and fury.
But the reflection was faster.
Stronger.
More brutal.
He took a slash to the chest. Blood sprayed. Pain flared.
The Sovereign's voice echoed:
"You bleed… but you do not evolve. Why?"
He staggered.
The other Kairo struck again—fist colliding with his gut, hurling him across the stone. Kairo coughed, crimson staining his lips. The Core trembled inside him.
"Do you even want this?" the reflection shouted. "Or do you still dream of mercy?"
Kairo snarled. "I want vengeance."
Then stand, the voice whispered. And bleed for it.
The final blow came down—a crimson glaive formed from pure will.
Kairo raised his hands too late.
The blade sliced through him.
He screamed—
Then—
Everything froze.
A red system screen appeared mid-air.
[Blood Trial Result: Survived]
[Blood Core Progression: +12%]
[Blood Core Level 1: Runes Unlocked]
[New Ability Acquired: Blood Piercer]
Blood Piercer – Condense weaponized blood into a high-velocity spike that bypasses armor and delivers internal rupture.
The Sovereign reflection faded, smirking. "You're not ready to wear the crown. But you're learning to bleed for it."
Kairo awoke in the ruins, gasping. Sweat clung to him. His chest ached.
But the Core felt different.
Solid. Awakened.
He glanced down at his palm.
Red light coiled through his veins like veins of liquid fire.
He was changing.
No.
He had already changed.
And next time, the world wouldn't see a beggar from the slums.
It would see something else.
Something worse.
Something sovereign.
He stood.
Looked toward the city glowing in the distance.
And whispered:
"If I can't be born with power… I'll take it from their corpses."
False Name, True Blood
The city gates loomed ahead—black stone framed with silver veins, guarded by enforcers clad in crimson armor.
Kairo stood at the edge of the slums, heart pounding, cloak drawn over his face.
No, not Kairo.
Kael Drosin.
That name wasn't his, but the blood rune on his forearm pulsed with the illusion of lineage. A Sovereign glyph woven directly into his skin—a whisper of deception carved from blood itself.
[Blood Rune: Identity Veil — Active]
Alias: Kael Drosin
Status: Heir of House Drosin (Disputed Line)
Forgery Stability: 94%
The Sovereign System had offered it after his trial. All it had asked for was a drop of his real blood… and a lie he was willing to kill for.
Now, Kael Drosin walked forward, carrying a forged crest burned into his chest, and a stolen token clutched in his hand—a golden shard once worn by a real Academy student who no longer breathed.
He hadn't meant to kill the boy.
But he'd needed a way in.
The guards didn't look twice. The token gleamed in the sunlight. The rune distorted their gaze just enough to make him look taller, sharper, cleaner. Noble.
"Name," one asked.
He kept his voice low. "Kael Drosin. Scholarship contender."
The guard checked a list. Scrolled down. Frowned.
Kairo's heart skipped. But then:
"Right. You're the outlander heir. Distant branch, right?"
Kairo nodded, his stomach coiled tight. "From the far east. The Ember Coast."
The guard snorted. "Heard that region breeds tough ones." He gestured him through. "Stay out of trouble, noble or not. The Trials are brutal this year."
Kairo walked through the gates.
Just like that… he was in.
The Academy grounds rose like a different world.
Marble towers. Floating lanterns. Courtyards of glass that reflected the sky. Teens in silk robes laughed and sparred with magic that shimmered through the air—fire, wind, water, stone. Some fought duels while instructors watched with mild curiosity.
And Kairo—Kael—walked among them.
A foreign god among angels.
His blood thrummed beneath his skin.
[Blood Core: Level 1 — Active]
[Ability: Blood Piercer (Ready)]
[System Directive: Infiltrate. Evolve. Reign.]
He didn't belong. Not yet. But he would.
He passed a group of boys from House Morvan. Claine stood at the center, flame dancing across his palms as he entertained a crowd.
Kairo kept his head down.
The memory of mud on his face burned hot, but he did not act. Not yet.
The orientation chamber was a dome of gold and obsidian, lined with rows of new initiates—some born nobles, some ranked through merit or money.
Kairo's name was called.
"Kael Drosin, House Drosin, branch bloodline, contested."
Gasps. Whispers.
"Never heard of them."
"Outland trash—probably bribed his way in."
"He doesn't even have a visible crest."
Kairo stepped into the center ring. His breath steady. His fingers twitched for the blade he could summon with thought alone.
The instructor, a tall woman with hair like woven coal, stared him down. "You wear no sigil," she said. "Do you claim nobility by blood or by deception?"
Kairo met her gaze.
"I claim it by survival."
For a moment, silence.
Then she laughed.
"Good. We'll see if survival is enough."
The first assessment was magical compatibility.
Students stood on sigil platforms that glowed to measure elemental affinity. Fire turned the ring crimson. Water made it swirl blue. Wind rose into silver spirals.
When Kairo stepped onto the sigil, nothing happened.
No color.
No pulse.
The crowd chuckled.
"Bloodless."
"Another fake heir."
Even the instructor frowned. "No affinity detected. You're dismissed."
But then, the Sovereign System flared to life behind his eyes:
[Hidden Affinity Detected: Blood Sovereignty — Forbidden Class]
[Status: Concealed]
Blood cannot be measured. Only spilled.
Kairo stepped off the platform with his jaw tight.
He'd show them blood soon enough.
Back in the dormitory, he was given a bottom-rank room: no windows, no luxuries, and one thin sheet that smelled like iron.
But he had a roof.
He had a name.
And most of all, he had the system.
[Blood Core Progression: 11%]
[Next Trial: Sovereign Dream Two — Locked]
[Kill count required: 3 (Unawakened or higher)]
He stared at the interface long into the night.
He could feel the weight of it—the pressure building. The Sovereign Core did not reward restraint. It rewarded conquest.
If he was to rise, he would need to lie, kill, and bleed without flinching.
Kael Drosin would become a name carved in crimson.
*
*
*
Author's Note:
Kairo is now inside the Academy—but not as himself. With a false name and a forged bloodline, he's walking among wolves while hiding a god's fang.
He's no longer the orphan they mocked, but in the eyes of the elite, he's still nothing. No rank. No crest. No "true" blood.
But the Sovereign System doesn't care about titles. It only demands one thing:
Bleed your way to the top.
In Chapter 9: "House of Serpents", Kairo is placed in House Veyr—a den of liars, poisoners, and spies. It's the house of the outcasts… and it may be exactly where he belongs.
And yes—Claine Morvan is there,
a top-ranked heir in House Pyros.
Let the blood feud begin.