Everblood Ascendant

The arena was still.

Dust floated in the air like ash suspended in time. The silence after the clash was deafening, stretching for a moment too long—until the sound of a single, loud clap shattered it.

Clap!

Everyone turned. More claps followed. One by one, the sound echoed through the training hall like thunder rolling through the mountains.

Caelan blinked, breathing heavily as sweat trickled down his temple. He turned his head toward the source of the applause—and there stood his father, Theron Virelith, the Clan Head. His eyes gleamed with fierce pride.

"Yes!" Theron bellowed, voice filled with vigor. "That is my son! The one I chose to succeed me as Head of the Virelith Clan!"

The words struck the gathered clan like a lightning bolt. Murmurs exploded. Faces that once held disdain and doubt were now painted with awe and confusion.

Caelan barely heard them. His mind had slipped inward.

> That power... it surged through me like a storm trying to break free. My body moved faster than thought, my strikes grew sharper with every breath... and when Rian faltered... I felt it.

Something ancient stirring inside me. A pulse in my veins like molten gold. Was that... my bloodline awakening?

No... not fully. Not yet.

But it's there. Waiting. Watching. And I'll bring it to life—no matter what it takes.

One day, I will stand at the peak of the universe. And the pantheons that now rule the heavens?

They'll bow.

His eyes narrowed. Determination hardened his features like steel cooling in a forge.

But just as he returned to the present, a sudden shift in the air caught his attention.

From the side, Rian—bloodied and bruised—stared at him with an expression twisted by rage. His shoulders trembled, his teeth clenched.

> Why...? Why him again?!

To Rian, it had always been Caelan. Even when he was younger, Rian had trained harder, struck earlier, pushed himself further. Yet it hadn't been enough. The Evolution System's judgment was absolute. It had named Caelan as the heir despite Rian being the firstborn.

And now this… once again, Caelan stood triumphant. His father's pride. The clan's rising star.

Burning resentment surged.

Rian's gaze locked on Caelan—he looked unguarded.

Now.

In a split second, Rian lunged—aiming straight for Caelan's back.

But the moment he moved, Caelan spun with terrifying precision. His knee drove into Rian's gut with thunderous force.

Thud!

All the air was driven from Rian's lungs. He choked, his mouth opening as spittle flew from his lips.

His vision spun.

Then—crash!—his body smashed into the stone wall of the training hall. The impact echoed loudly. He collapsed, unmoving.

Everyone turned in shock.

Caelan stood there, eyes calm, breath steady. His posture never broke.

Theron's smile widened.

"I expected better from you, Rian," the clan head said, his voice calm yet sharp as a blade. "You dishonor this clan further with your foolishness."

He turned to one of the elders. "Take him to the underground dungeon. He will await judgment for his crimes against his own brother."

The elder bowed. "Yes, Clan Head."

Two guards quickly moved to carry the unconscious Rian away.

Theron's expression softened as he turned back to Caelan. "Show me your system panel, Caelan. I want to see what level you've reached."

Caelan froze.

> The panel… No. I can't let them see everything. The draconic bloodline… the Everblood... it's too much. If they saw that… if word got out—

Then he remembered something.

> Right. The Evolution System has a concealment feature. I can mask the advanced information.

With a breath, he mentally accessed his system interface and activated the Mask Status function, filtering out the most sensitive details. His screen now only displayed what he allowed:

---

[Evolution System Interface]

Name: Caelan Virelith

Age: 16

Classification: Warrior-Mage Hybrid

Primary Class: Magic Dual Swordsman

Level: 17

Stage: Silver Stage (Initial)

Mana Core: Stable

Bloodline: [Confidential / Masked]

---

He projected the illusionary screen forward.

Theron's eyes scanned the information, then his face broke into a wide smile.

"Silver Stage. At sixteen."

His laughter boomed across the training hall like thunder.

"A true prodigy! No… a once-in-a-generation genius!"

More murmurs broke out among the crowd, louder now, no longer whispering doubt—but stunned admiration.

Theron raised his hand.

"In three days' time, we shall hold a feast! To honor Caelan's return! And to celebrate his first step onto the true path of strength!"

Cheers erupted.

But Theron stepped closer, placing a firm hand on Caelan's shoulder.

"Son, I want you to focus these next three days on consolidating your mana. Such a leap in level can destabilize your core if left unchecked. Don't let your power turn against you."

Caelan nodded firmly. "I understand. I'll train and stabilize it. I'll be ready in time for the feast."

Theron grinned wider. "Good. Do that. Because I've prepared a surprise for you. One that I think you'll appreciate greatly."

Caelan blinked but said nothing. His curiosity burned—but he knew better than to press now.

As the crowd dispersed and the arena slowly emptied, Caelan stood alone in the center for a moment longer. The warmth of victory hadn't faded yet.

> Rian… was just the beginning.

I'll rise. Not just for vengeance… but for destiny.

He closed his eyes, and for a heartbeat, he could feel the golden pulse again… the quiet rumble of dragons in his blood.

The road ahead was long—but now, he had begun to walk it.