My paranoia was likely getting the better of me. Nothing unusual had happened so far.
Guests continued to arrive. The duke and the duchess calmly guided them into the grand hall where the ceremony would take place. What stood out, however, was the extraordinary presence of all twelve dukes of the empire. Such an event was almost unheard of. The reason for their gathering was no mystery. Everyone in the empire knew Duke Kal’s son had been born under the grace of the Seven Sages. The spirits had foretold that those blessed by the sages—the saviors—would one day bring an end to the war. No one of importance could afford to ignore the naming ceremony of a child whose affinities might shape this prophecy.
Only four children across the Bingan Empire had ever been born under the grace of the Seven Sages, and one of them was Duke Kal’s son. This alone elevated the ceremony's significance. Adding to the intrigue was the father himself—Duke Kal—a Tier 6 Arcane, who wielded one of the rarest Singularities in the known universe: the power to nurture life.
Kal’s Singularity was more than the ability to heal; it was a force of holistic growth and transformation. Plants thrived under his care, animals became stronger, and even sentient beings unlocked greater potential. His power accelerated development, strengthened resilience, and heightened intelligence. Wherever Kal walked, barren lands turned fertile, ecosystems flourished, and vitality surged. His ability didn’t merely sustain life; it amplified and perfected it.
The birth of a child in the house of nurturing with even greater potential was monumental. A successor of such promise erased all doubt about the house’s future and ensured unwavering support from the emperor. With this stability, Kal could focus entirely on advancing his own power. If left undisturbed, he was almost certain to ascend to Tier 7 within a century.
In the entire empire, only one Tier 7 existed: Emperor Enil Stormwright of the House of Babylon. No one had ever challenged his singular dominance over the arcane hierarchy—until now. Should Duke Kal ascend to the same tier, the emperor would no longer reign unmatched.
Such an equilibrium of power wouldn’t threaten internal stability; no, the Bingan Empire was too disciplined for civil wars over petty rivalries. The real problem lay beyond its borders. A Tier 7 peer would inevitably draw the attention—and likely the envy—of its most ambitious neighbor, Dawn Accords.
Empires didn’t squabble over hurt pride or bruised egos; they moved to secure advantage. A second Tier 7 in Bingan would look less like progress and more like a gauntlet thrown at Dawn’s feet. And in the delicate ballet of intergalactic politics, that kind of provocation always ended the same way—on the battlefield.
"Look, it's Princess Innala! I heard she already ascended to her father's Aether Spire. What is she doing here?" a boy from the House of Might blurted out, unable to contain his astonishment at seeing such a prestigious figure enter the hall.
The room stilled as Princess Innala, clad in silver robes embroidered with celestial patterns, gracefully approached Duke Kal and Duchess Vritta. Her presence drew the attention of every noble in attendance. She bowed slightly, her movements a blend of humility and poise.
“Duke Kal, Duchess Vritta,” she began, her voice calm and clear, “I must extend my deepest apologies on behalf of my father. He regrets being unable to attend today’s ceremony. Urgent matters within the Aether have demanded his immediate attention, forcing him to ascend earlier than expected.”
The duke and duchess exchanged a brief glance before Kal spoke, his tone respectful. “Your Highness, there is no need to apologize. The emperor’s duties are far greater than ours. It is our honor to serve him and to ensure no added burdens fall upon his shoulders.”
Duchess Vritta nodded in agreement, adding with a warm smile, “We are grateful you could attend, Princess Innala. Your presence alone is a gift to our family on this auspicious day.”
Innala returned their kindness with a faint smile before continuing. “If I may, I would like to meet your son, Vira. It would be nice to speak with someone closer to my age during such a gathering.”
Kal inclined his head. “Of course, Princess. Vira is in the next chamber. He'd be happy to meet you,” Kal said.
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Vira, dressed in a sun-colored dhoti adorned with the sigil of his house, stood confidently as Innala entered the room. She approached him with an air of familiarity, offering a genuine smile.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Vira,” she said. “I’ve heard a great deal about your family’s brilliance. And with your 12th cycle approaching, you must be preparing for the trials ahead.”
Vira returned her smile, his posture easy but respectful. “The pleasure is mine, Princess. I can only imagine the weight of the expectations you bear, ascending to the Aether as a royal, is much greater.”
Innala laughed softly. “Expectations are part of the legacy, aren’t they? We’ll both soon be in our fathers’ lands, strengthening our bodies and souls for what lies ahead. Have you started training for the trials yet?”
“A little,” Vira admitted. “Mostly foundational work for now. It seems there’s a lot to prepare for.”
“Don’t underestimate it,” Innala replied, her tone light yet serious. “The Aether demands more than just strength. They test your will, your endurance, and your ability to adapt. But,” she added with a sly grin, “at least we’ll have something in common when we ascend.”
Vira chuckled. “That’s comforting. It’ll be nice to have someone to share the experience with—if only to survive the first few years.”
In a far corner of the hall, several dukes whispered among themselves, their expressions ranging from concerned to outright displeased. The House of Stewards and the House of Mercury were particularly vocal.
“Did you hear that?” muttered Lord Guiren of the House of Stewards. “The royal house aligning so closely with the Bhairava’s could spell trouble. If the emperor throws his full support behind them, we’ll lose leverage in the council.”
Lady Tariss from the House of Mercury frowned deeply. “It’s concerning, indeed. A closer alliance between the Bhairavas and the royal family could shift trade routes and power dynamics in their favor. The balance we’ve maintained could unravel.”
Lord Alaric of the House of Heaven leaned in, his tone quieter but no less pointed. “This is more than just alliances. If Vira ascends and gains a foothold in the Aether under the emperor’s guidance, it could make their family unassailable. We need to be cautious.”
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Tariss tapped her fingers against her goblet. “Perhaps. But careful observation is key for now. Overreacting could expose us. Let’s wait and see how this plays out before deciding our next move.”
As Raki paraded me around the hall, holding me up like some kind of trophy while her maid dutifully trailed behind, I couldn’t help but tune into the endless stream of thoughts swirling around the room. The mental noise was deafening—not from sheer volume, but from the sheer audacity.
Good grief, what kind of circus is this?
The hall was filled with an array of polished smiles, fake laughter, and the clinking of goblets, but beneath it all was a cesspool of scheming and deceit. Barons bartered favors like merchants at a bazaar, viscounts debated alliances with all the subtlety of a dagger in the dark, and dukes quietly calculated their next moves as if the entire empire were a game of chess—and I, apparently, was just another pawn.
And then, oh, the cherry on top: some of them were already plotting my demise.
"If he grows too powerful, we’ll have to deal with him quietly."
"Better to nip it in the bud than let him challenge our plans."
"The Bhairavas could tip the balance. We must ensure this doesn’t become a liability."
Liability? Oh, forgive me, Your Graces, for the grievous crime of existing.
I could barely suppress my mental sigh. My god, what kind of world have I been born into? These people couldn’t even let a newborn have his moment of peace without plotting contingencies for his untimely disappearance.
What’s worse, they weren’t just playing politics. They were laying down the foundation for entire power shifts—making alliances, betraying others, and trading favors—all during a naming ceremony. My naming ceremony. How incredibly poetic.
"If the House of Mercury blocks their trade routes, we could pressure them into ceding control over the western grain trade."
"A few extra donations to the House of Shadows should suffice to keep an eye on them."
And then there was the undercurrent of judgment. So many thoughts swimming in thinly veiled contempt. "Another Bhairava brat." "Their family’s influence is growing far too quickly." "It won’t be long before they overreach."
By the time Raki reached another cluster of nobles, all chattering away about their ambitions while simultaneously fawning over my sister’s bubbly demeanor, I was mentally fatigued—not from any physical toll but because their behavior filled me with disgust. Every smiling face seemed to hide a blade aimed at someone else’s back.
This isn’t a hall of honor or unity. It’s a gladiatorial arena, and I’m the prize they’re all betting on.
Raki twirled me around like a prized doll, oblivious to the mess of treachery in the air. “Isn’t my baby brother the cutest?” she chirped, her voice sweet and innocent, completely out of place amidst the vipers lurking in every corner.
And here I was, enduring it all in silence, cataloging the ugliness of the world I’d been so rudely dropped into. One day, these people would learn just how inconvenient I could be when I decided to return the favor.
For now, though, let them scheme. The thing about plotting against a newborn is that you’re underestimating someone who has their whole life to prove you wrong.
“Raki, bring your brother here. It’s time for the ceremony,” Vritta called, her voice steady as she began distributing bracelets to everyone in the hall. These were Void bands—crafted to sever an Arcane's connection to mana entirely. Just as the void itself allows nothing to exist within it, these bands effectively nullified the wearer’s access to their mana.
People rarely used the bracelets, saving them for only the most crucial occasions, like a newborn's naming ceremony. Their purpose was simple but essential: to prevent any interference with the infant’s mana field during the affinity trial. By restricting everyone else’s mana, the ceremony ensured that the trial stones’ movements remained pure and untainted by external energies, allowing the child’s natural affinities to manifest without influence.
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Ren’s POV
Ren’s tiny body was placed carefully inside the spherical capsule, connected to a neutral mana battery, its constant supply ensuring stability throughout the trial. The runic formations inside the construct’s walls shimmered with a faint iridescence as they came to life, creating a protective cocoon that channeled mana uniformly without overwhelming the infant. It felt both foreign and oddly comforting, like being cradled in the arms of something ancient yet benevolent. Around it, rune stones were meticulously arranged in concentric circles, each orbit denoting their affinity rank—legendary stones at the center, and progressively lesser stones radiating outward. The intricate runes etched into the stones pulsed faintly, dormant but expectant, as though awaiting a spark of life.
"So this is how it begins," Ren thought, his mind already sharp despite his infant body. "Placed on display like a prized artifact, while a room full of schemers and sycophants holds their breath to see what kind of weapon I’ll become. Lovely."
Vira and Rakita stood nearby, gripping each other’s hands tightly, their youthful faces a mix of excitement and nervousness. At Duke Kal’s subtle nod, Borgen stepped forward, activating the neutral mana battery with a sharp motion.
The reaction began immediately. Neutral mana surged into Ren’s tiny body, filling him with a pure, unaligned energy that pulsed like an unrelenting tide. His small frame thrummed visibly, a resonating rhythm that mirrored the natural frequencies of life itself. However, the neutral mana’s quantity far exceeded what his developing body could retain. As the surplus reached critical levels, his innate instincts took over—Ren began to expel the excess energy.
"Ah, so this is the famous neutral mana. Bland but efficient. Feels like drinking tasteless soup—filling, but entirely uninspired."
But this wasn’t simply a matter of expelling excess mana. The energy had coursed through every fiber of my being, absorbing fragments of my nascent essence along the way. By the time it flowed outward, the mana carried subtle but unmistakable imprints of my innate affinities.The invisible field expanded in waves, rippling outward in a steady crescendo until it enveloped the rune stones, each one now bathed in the faint, personalized hum of my mana.
"Interesting... the energy is still mine, carrying fragments of my essence even after it leaves me. How curious—almost like leaving my fingerprints on the universe."
As the expelled mana touched the rune stones, the field grew, enveloping them like an unseen tide. The stones responded with an almost magnetic pull. "Finally, some life from these relics," Ren mused, his keen perception picking up every flicker and shift. The room had gone utterly silent, the onlookers frozen in anticipation.
Suddenly, a shift broke the stillness—the Death Stone rose. Slowly, deliberately, it lifted from the ground, as though carried by an invisible hand. Its surface, a deep obsidian black marbled with streaks of ghostly silver, glowed faintly, the light flickering like a heartbeat. A collective gasp echoed through the chamber, the gravity of this first revelation dawning on everyone present.
"Well, that’s dramatic. Of course, the first stone to rise would be Death. Just my luck." Ren suppressed a faint wave of irritation, though it mingled with a strange sense of intrigue. It seemed that death, for all its finality, had a peculiar fondness for him—like an uninvited guest that kept showing up to the party, no matter how many times he turned it away.
Even now, in a life that was supposed to be fresh and untainted, its shadow lingered, asserting itself as if to remind him of their shared history. Death was no stranger, but a stubborn companion, an unyielding force that followed him, not to claim him, but to mark him. "I guess some relationships are eternal," he mused wryly.
Meanwhile, the mana field persisted, undeterred by the rising hum of tension. Ren felt it expanding further, probing the stones as though searching for its next target. He could sense the intricate weave of power interacting with the stones, an almost mathematical elegance to the process. "I’ll admit, this part is fascinating. The way the field influences the stones... it’s almost like a magnetic field. Almost."
As the Death Stone settled into its orbit above him, Ren felt a mix of curiosity and wariness. "All right, Death, you’ve made your move. Let’s see who joins you next. Hopefully, something a bit less grim."