heir of the cursed blood

The towering gates of RagDon stood firm as Kael and Eorun dismounted the great griffin. Dust scattered beneath their boots as they stepped onto familiar stone, cloaks trailing behind them. Servants and guards alike paused to glance at the returning duo. Whispers followed.

Maids, stationed along the walkways, exchanged hushed words as they laid eyes on Kael — his presence now sharper, aura more defined, and a blade at his side that pulsed with silent promise.

Word traveled fast.

In the training grounds, Clara wiped sweat from her brow as she sparred. Vaelion, dressed in noble combat robes, stood nearby. A servant approached, bowing deeply.

"Kael has returned."

They froze.

Clara's eyes narrowed. Vaelion smirked.

"Let's go see the show," he said, already walking.

 The Master's Judgment

Inside the master's office, Zehrun, the second head of RagDon, stood tall in silence. His golden eyes scanned Kael with a trace of amusement.

"So the old man didn't waste his time," Zehrun said. "Let's put that to the test."

No room for compliments. No time for pleasantries.

 Coliseum of RagDon

Later that day, the RagDon Coliseum roared with anticipation. Spectators gathered on stone benches. Warriors, nobles, and trainees surrounded the arena.

Kael stepped forward into the sunlit pit, his coat swaying, eyes locked ahead.

"Your first opponent," Zehrun announced, "will be Theo."

A bulking mountain of muscle emerged — shirtless, veins bulging, gripping a massive greatsword. His skin shimmered faintly from his Body Enhancement ability, a Class D skill, yet Theo was ranked 8th in RagDon's arena charts.

Theo laughed, swinging his blade lazily.

"You again? Let's see if your blade is more than just decoration."

With a roar, Theo charged, his greatsword slicing through the air.

Kael narrowly dodged and responded with a swift, clean slash — slicing Theo across the chest.

Blood spilled.

The crowd gasped.

From the sidelines, Vaelion smirked.

"So... he can use aura."

Clara folded her arms.

"When will this end? It's already boring."

Theo, angered, gripped his sword and activated his ability.

"Sword Strength Play!"

His muscles expanded. The blade swung with thunderous speed.

Kael blocked it — barely — coating his sword with magenta aura. His feet skidded, but he stood firm.

Then, he jumped back, eyes sharp.

"Let me return the favor."

He leapt, blade raised overhead.

Rune Fall!

The strike crashed down like a meteor. Theo raised his sword to block but staggered — overwhelmed by the force and precision.

Dust cleared.

Theo lay unconscious, groaning.

Kael stood above him, breathing heavily.

"Who's next?" Kael muttered with a smile.

The coliseum fell silent.

Even Zehrun looked surprised. He turned to announce the next opponent when—

 The Challenge

Kael's voice echoed before anyone could speak.

"Vaelion! If you have any guts, fight me yourself!"

All heads turned. Vaelion, standing beside Clara, tilted his head and smiled like a predator.

Zehrun stepped forward. "Kael, that's enough—"

"I accept," Vaelion interrupted. "I won't use my ability. Just a sword."

Everyone went still.

Kael grinned. Eorun whispered beside him,

"That fool. Without his ability, he's nothing."

Kael vs Vaelion – The Second Duel

The two faced each other in the center of the coliseum. The sun dipped lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the stone.

Kael stood poised, blade drawn. Rage simmered beneath his skin. This was the man who took Clara. Who humiliated him.

You're mine.

The signal rang.

Kael surged like a beast — his aura bursting around him.

Sword Fall!

He brought his sword down with all his strength.

But…

Clang.

Vaelion blocked it with ease — with a basic metal sword, not even his main weapon.

Kael froze.

Vaelion's eyes narrowed, glowing faintly silver.

"Do you think I became one of the strongest second-gens in the continent with just my ability?"

From his blade, a strange silver aura began to pulse.

Eorun's face went pale.

"No… that's…"

Clara chuckled softly.

"Pigs will always be pigs."

Then came the end.

"Bound Slay."

Vaelion's blade sliced through the air, his Silver Aura twisting like a serpent. The strike shattered Kael's defense and armor in a single, fluid motion. Kael stumbled back, collapsing in the corner of the arena.

Before he could rise—

Vaelion walked up, eyes cruel.

"Here. A parting gift."

With a swift motion, he dragged his sword across Kael's right eye.

The cut wasn't deep enough to blind, but it was enough to leave a scar for life.

The coliseum was silent.

No one spoke. Even Zehrun remained frozen.

Then, one by one, they began to leave.

"Clear the arena," Zehrun ordered, voice tense.

Clara and Vaelion walked out together. Kael lay unconscious, blood trailing down his face.

Aftermath

Kael was rushed to the infirmary.

The healers worked fast — restoring bones, sealing wounds, soothing his shattered pride.

But the scar remained.

No magic could penetrate it.

"The silver aura," one nurse whispered. "It's blocking the spell…"

Eorun stood beside Kael's bed, arms folded.

His face was hard, but not angry.

Just tired.

"You were hasty, boy," he said softly.

Kael didn't respond. He was still unconscious, breathing shallow.

But even in his sleep…

His hand gripped his sword tight.