Seven years passed after his birth. During those times, Lucas's mother contracted a fatal disease that no one was able to cure. Once she passed away, no one was able to protect Lucas's father. As such, he was slain by members of the Barcelona Sect without the patriarch's awareness.
What made a sect so strong were its members. Within the Barcelona Sect, tools to help each member were given. These same tools could aid in growing one's spiritual strength. It could be reading philosophical books, meditating in an area filled with high levels of spirit activity, or even engaging in prayer at church.
Each person differed in their spirit level. The higher one's spirit was, the stronger their overall influence over their power became. And what many nations coveted the most to help grow their sects were ancient artifacts. For instance, if a normal man were to drink water from the same cup that David of Bethlehem drank from in 900 BCE, he would feel nothing.
But if a man with high levels of spirit drank from that cup, his spirit would be magnified. What made these artifacts so great was that there were many in number, and there was no telling where they could be. The Metropolitan Museum of Art in the United States of America houses more than two million pieces of art spanning over five thousand years. Since many of those pieces could influence spiritual growth just by gazing at them, the New York City sect became the strongest sect.
Spain wasn't too far from them. They held spiritual artifacts from influential artists like Pablo Picasso.
The only thing sects needed to do after collecting these artifacts was study them. It took a lot of patience, so a lot of a sect member's time went to analyzing artifacts or engaging in things that could help nurture their spirits. Once their levels were high enough, they could be approved to fight against devils in various territories across the world. And whichever sect member contributed the most, they would gain the most if there were any rewards to be divided.
That was why strengthening one's sect members was crucial. Each sect desired the most resources to help them grow. Devils were one thing, considering how easy they were to manage, but a rival sect growing in power was worse.
"Why can't I go and practice my spirit like other people?" Lucas asked.
Sitting inside a room full of large bookshelves was a child with dark skin and a boyish complexion. In front of him was a well-dressed maid wearing rounded glasses and a ruler in her hand. In an objective tone, she said, "Your duty is to read until I deem you fit for spiritual endeavours."
"But I've read almost all the books here, mam!" Lucas shouted. "I just wanna play now!"
"Don't you raise your voice at me!" the maid responded, smacking her ruler on the table where Lucas sat.
She had punished Lucas on more than one occasion for going against her. Sometimes he was given beatings for no apparent reason.
"Lady Victoria assigned me to be your caretaker after your parents deaths... I expect you to show me some respect."
Victoria Chang was Lucas's first aunt. She married a man with no spiritual prowess yet bore two children with high spirits. Her eldest son, Octavius Chang, was only one grade lower than the patriarch. While his fraternal twin, Persephone Chang, might not have been on his grade level, she was unrivaled with the sword.
"A test to see if you truly have been reading," the maid demanded. "What are the grades, and what does each of them entail?"
Lucas calmed himself after hearing how loud the ruler hit the table. He knew the answer to her question, believing that if he answered, he might be given a little freedom to venture outside. So he answered, "The grades are one through eight... Eight is the highest grade."
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"Go on…"
"Grade one's a newborn, grade two's a reader, grade three's a primate, grade four's an eparchy, grade five's a pretorian, grade six's a cardinal, and grade seven's a patriarch."
"You left out grade eight."
Each person's high spirits are measured in grades. The higher the grade, the stronger that person's spirit. All infants born in this world are tested for their aptitude. If they show any levels of high spirit, they're called newborns.
On their twelfth birthday, they are tested again. Those who were raised without a sect often find themselves stuck at grade two for years. Sometimes decades if they're not diligent enough. While those born into a sect at an early age can be nurtured to grow as high as a Pretorian (grade five).
A grade two is considered too weak to go out onto the battlefield. Their spirits are too low to have an effect on anything. That is why they're called "Readers". Because they spent most of their time reading to grow their spirits.
Reading isn't all bad, however. If one reads the right books, they could easily make it to grade three. Once there, they're considered "Primates", strong enough warriors able to combat low-level devils. The world mainly consists of grade threes, as they're most essential to ensuring the earth doesn't succumb to the devil's influences.
To achieve any grade higher than three would be an amazing feat. For the chances of doing so are incredibly low without aid. A person who desired to attain a higher grade level would have to first reach the pinnacle of their current spirit grade. After it's reached, they can choose to undergo an inner transformation, also known as a breakthrough.
If they fail to achieve the next grade level, they have to wait weeks or even months to try again due to the backlash they receive. And the only way to tell someone's grade level is to simply sense it in their spirit when they're in close enough proximity.
"Grade eight can't be reached by people," Lucas answered.
"Answer why," the maid demanded.
"No one knows why."
"Then we as people know it exists because..."
"Because there are devils at level eight."
"Hmph… So you have been reading."
Those who obtain grade seven are able to lead their own sect and be called patriarchs. Currently, there are only ten patriarchs in the world. And it takes at least five of them just to take down a grade eight devil. Thankfully, the world hasn't seen a grade eight in decades.
In truth, the grading scale was developed by scientists in Italy after man's great development. Numbers and titles were implemented after their ranking system.
And in terms of combat, there was a significant gap between how strong one grade was and the next one. For example, a grade two reader wasn't even equipped to fight a devil. But a grade three could easily harness a small Japanese shuriken to defend themselves. If they, however, tried to fight a man with a grade four spirit, they could lose in seconds.
Why could?
There was still a chance of victory, depending on what weapons were being used. A grade four could go into the battle with only their fists; yet, if a grade three held an ancient sword and embedded all their spirit into that sword, they now had a chance of winning. Even if that chance was still significantly small, it was still a chance.
"Can I use the bathroom?" Lucas pleaded.
"Go!" she said in a straightforward tone. "I have more questions for you when you return."
Heading outside the room, Lucas walked across the study hall. For being the smallest mansion in the sect, it was still quite a large one. At least for a child his size. Opening the bathroom door, he hopped atop the toilet seat to engage in his favourite pastime: people-watching.
Out of the small window on the second floor, Lucas observed sect members sparring with one another. He was always fascinated by the overwhelming techniques they used. Known as the trainees of the sect, many of them were natural-born fighters. They could sprint as fast as motorcycles, leap over a park basketball rim without effort, and some could even catch bullets fired by an automatic assault rifle with their bare hands!
Lucas often watched how coordinated some of their movements were, coming to the point where he could tell the outcome of their sparring match. Fighting had therefore become fun for him as he practiced the moves he saw in the bathroom. Almost every day around this time, he knew that the trainees were off their duties, so he took the time to watch them. This was, after all, his only form of entertainment.
Reliving himself in the toilet, he washed his hands while looking in the mirror. Brown eyes with trimmed, bushy black hair like that of a sheep. He looked nothing like any of his siblings or cousins. And compared to their gorgeous appearances, he was quite average.
Growing up like this, Lucas felt more like an outcast than a member of the family. Nonetheless, he was still but a child, waiting for his freedom.