Ten scales gleamed with a faint blue light, piercing Charles’ vision like a miracle unfolding before him. But just as he began to grasp the sight, the scales slowly dimmed, one by one, until only five continued to flash.
"How is it?"
The Duke was the first to step onto the altar. His gaze settled on the five remaining scales, their blue glow flickering like embers. His expression shifted, a brief frown betraying disappointment before the murmur of excitement erupted from the crowd behind him.
"Oh my God, another young master with 50%!"
"I remember the other son of the third wife also has a 50% blue blood concentration. She sure knows how to give birth!"
A somber voice added, "Pity about the last one… Hopefully, this young master can grow up safely."
Among the whispers, the eldest lady’s face darkened. Her son, Lin, was the favored candidate to inherit the title of Duke of West—until Charles’ unexpected 50% blue blood concentration threw her plans into jeopardy. Her gloved hand clenched tightly, her face hardening as she turned and walked away, a silent promise that Charles would not have an easy path.
The third lady’s expression flickered between pride and apprehension. Her hands fidgeted with her gown, torn between a desire to approach Charles and the caution to keep her distance.
“Fiona, your brother is quite the surprise!” Mrs. Alice murmured, her jade hand covering her mouth, a glint of shock in her eyes.
Fiona’s face remained cold, unmoved by the result of Charles’ enlightenment ceremony. “Let’s go, Fiona,” Mrs. Alice said with a languid stretch, her form perfectly accentuated by her fitted gown. “You’ve been on your feet all day.”
As they left, Fiona nodded quietly, showing no sign of interest.
In another corner, Jenny sneered at Okogie, whose face was unreadable. Her legs crossed elegantly beneath her black dress, revealing the slit at her thighs, her bare feet a provocative contrast.
“Okogie, you’d better stop your games. Father won’t let you lay a finger on Charles.” She smirked, her tone laced with mockery.
Okogie’s eyes narrowed, and with a cold snort, he shook his bangs, then turned and left, his military boots echoing with each step. Meanwhile, Lin watched the scene from a distance, his expression unreadable as he patted Will on the shoulder.
“Let’s go,” he whispered. “By the way, where’s Leia?”
…
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Leia’s usually composed face was twisted in fury, each step she took in her high heels resounding with anger. She clawed at her hair, her nails scratching her delicate cheeks, blood trickling from her fingers like a dark, haunting charm.
“No… No, no!!” She let out a choked, hysterical laugh, then suddenly stilled. Her face was eerily calm, her bloodstained hair framing her morbidly beautiful features. “Charles,” she whispered, her voice laced with obsession. “You won’t escape from me… you can’t escape from my grasp…”
…
“Charles, are you all right?”
“Thank you, I’m feeling much better.” Charles took the towel Jenny offered, wiping the sweat from his face. The enlightenment ceremony had ended, and he’d just returned the mysterious dagger to Jack without him noticing anything unusual. Jack’s stunned reaction was seared into his memory, but Charles concealed his thoughts well, even as he noticed Jack eyeing the dagger with disbelief.
After the Duke confirmed Charles’ result, he departed without a word, his expression as impassive as ever. Charles suspected his father wasn’t as unruffled as he seemed, but he made no sign of it.
Only now, with the guests dispersed, did Charles have the chance to examine himself. He felt a surge in his physical strength, his muscles brimming with latent power. He still appeared lean, but he sensed he could fell a cow with a single punch.
And the wind—he could feel its touch, as if it were alive, wrapping around him with a gentle affection.
Yet he was left with questions. The final moments of his enlightenment had filled his mind with strange knowledge. His blue blood concentration had inexplicably dropped to 50%, but he’d gained a title: Wind Messenger.
But he knew no such rank in the Wind Warrior sequence. Could it be… he had awakened a new, unique extraordinary sequence?
An extraordinary sequence unlike any other? He marveled at the thought. Most first-sequence wind warriors had physical strength merely a fraction beyond average, but his felt closer to the strength of Leia, a Storm Servant from the third sequence. And yet his blue blood concentration, initially at 100%, had halved.
Rubbing his temples, he realized he knew too little about this world’s extraordinary powers. Mysteries stacked upon mysteries, and he would have to unravel them gradually. For now, he would focus on training, on growing stronger. The Duke wouldn’t disregard him anymore—not even with a superficial 50% concentration. He was, by all standards, a prodigy of the West family.
But…
He glanced at the departing Fourth Lady, her face twisted with resentment, and at the Fifth Lady, who smiled sweetly while conversing with the guests, though her gaze was wary. The First and Second Ladies had already left, shadows of cold indifference trailing behind them.
Charles knew they wouldn’t allow him an easy path forward.
The clouds had cleared, the servants dismantling the altar. Guests left in clusters, the West family castle looming under the sun. Charles gazed up, recalling the massive eagle that had blotted out the sky.
“West…” he murmured, stretching out his hand, watching the scar on his palm fade in the sunlight. His fingers gleamed like white jade, his sapphire eyes glinting like crystal.
He had endured so much in this world, waiting for this moment. Now, he was free to pursue his ambitions, to live without restraint. He didn’t seek to conquer this world, but he would ensure it could not mold him to its will.
Charles West would leave his name in history. When he was gone, long after his time, they would still call out his name.
“Charles West.”
Some are born great, and this greatness lies not in grand deeds, but in great intent.
—The History of the Epoch: Charles West