In a dark room, Ventor, head of the Dark Sword clan, sat cross-legged in his meditation.

Closing his eyes, he focused his mind on his Ord. From the depths of his consciousness, a vision appeared—a mountain of skulls carrying a torii gate upon its crest. It had cost many thousands of lives to build that hill.

Ventor had no intention of collaborating with other royals who opposed his interests, instead intending to exploit their presence to his advantage. Another formidable challenge stood in his way; securing his nephew, Kon’s success.

Ventor knew that Kon had a killer’s instincts, and wouldn't hesitate to eliminate the Dark Sword Clan if they didn't play along. So no matter what, he had to give some leeway to his nephew about some things. The only thing they could do now was send him some promising prospects and hope it would develop into something that benefited the Dark Sword Clan.

As Ventor ruminated on his clan's history, memories surfaced of a time when the Dark Sword Clan was not associated with murder but instead upheld an honorable reputation as exorcists, albeit a weaker and more vulnerable clan than they were now.

"Though our swords are shrouded in darkness, our hearts shall remain untouched," Ventor's father, the previous clan head, had proclaimed.

Unlike Ventor, his father possessed a robust stature, stern features, and many earned scars. He was anything but ordinary, obvious even to those unfamiliar with exorcists.

Honor was just a distant memory now. Ventor reminisced of his brother’s impassioned discussions about the legendary honorable samurai imprisoned by their clan. Together, they dreamed of becoming exorcists of unparalleled honor.

Sometimes Ventor regretted the steps he had taken. Maybe, if things had played out differently, he wouldn't have dragged his brother down this path.

Leo, his baby brother. If there was one thing he regretted it was never giving his younger brother a choice. Though Leo never complained, Ventor could only wonder...

However, the world proved unjust. Even rigorous training sometimes yielded no results, while geniuses achieved extraordinary feats with little effort.

Ventor vividly remembered a student only a year his junior who, despite his womanizing ways, held every record at the Exorcist Academy. That very same fool, known as The Magician, would later earn the title of the strongest exorcist, the Exorcist of The Beginning and The End. He would etch his name into the annals of history.

But Ventor had never been such a man. He was considered talented, the hope of his family. He even had a sense of pride when he arrived at the exorcist academy—but he had turned out to be nothing special.

With people like the current Kuro Clan Head, The Demonic Exorcist, and the Exorcist of The Beginning and The End, who was also known as The Magician later in his career... With such people in his generation, Ventor felt like a mere insect.

He clenched his teeth and tightened his fist. A sharp pang shot through him as if reliving the agonizing pain he endured.

An unbidden memory of his face slamming against the urinal, the metallic tang of blood filling his nose and mouth. Lifting his gaze, he glared at his three tormentors, fellow students belonging to influential clans that held sway over the country.

“What a fucking joke," spat one of them as he rammed the sole of his shoe against Ventor's face, keeping his head to the ground. "I can't believe such worthless retards are allowed into the Academy."

"The end of days are really coming," said another.

The third and final person chuckled. "Cowards and losers, all of them."

The person with the shoe on Ventor's face stomped on his head and said, "Didn't this bastard have some arranged marriage or something? I heard that his fiancée attends the Academy too."

Ventor felt his heart skip a beat as rage filled his mind. But then the other person crouched down and mocked him, "What if we beat his ass in front of his girl? I bet he wouldn't do anything."

"Heh, he’d probably just cry about it," another added. "Maybe we could add her-"

Ventor couldn’t help it anymore, pushing his assailant’s foot off his face. He stumbled back as the rest reached for their weapons. He didn't give a shit if he could take them or not; he was going to confront these bastards!

"If you touch her, I will kill you," Ventor said.

The group paused in disbelief, not used to their victims talking back. They had the backing of the strongest clans, and could do whatever they wanted without repercussions—there was no point retaliating.

"Look at you, so brave, talking back," one of them snorted. "Touch us and your weak clan gets razed to the ground. No one will even bat an eye if they disappeared."

But his courage was crushed by the harsh reality. He was afraid of getting slaughtered if he dared to retaliate here because these guys were from strong clans. That was the brutal truth of the world—might made right.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

Ventor knew how these clans worked. They were all crazy and would kill anyone even at the smallest slight. Exorcist Clans disappeared mysteriously all the time. Everyone knew what had happened, but no one did anything. One of his bullies even had a grandfather that was a Special Exorcist.

Leo, his younger brother, was going to join the academy next year. Was it worth sacrificing his family for something as petty as an insult or ego?

Yet, when he recalled Lia's sweet smile, he was tempted to fight for his betrothed's honor. If he gave even an inch, these guys wouldn't back down.

Lia of the De Clan—she was to be his wife. Their union would bring honor to their families, and both of them were of honorable backgrounds. Ventor had met her a couple of times, and she was someone who would ease the worries of the world.

Ventor's eyes flashed as he considered murder by poisoning. There would be none the wiser about it. It would be so easy... but his father's words rang in his head: 'Though our swords might be covered in darkness, we will never let our hearts touch the dark.'

But honor wasn't worth much. As the first year at the Academy progressed, Lia grew increasingly distant from Ventor. Eventually, to everyone's shock, she tragically took her own life.

The reason behind her choice remained a mystery to this day, but Ventor couldn't help but feel responsible.

He was overcome with disgust at his own cowardice.

At that moment, he realized that weakness was a sin.

As the new year began, Ventor did not return home. The bullying escalated, leaving him covered in bruises. Leo, his brother, had also joined the academy two months ago. But Ventor avoided him. He didn't want his younger brother to see the loser he had become...

With his mind filled with such distressing thoughts, Ventor's cheeks sunken, and dark circles had marred his eyes. The thought of his beloved Lia being hurt made him nauseous.

One day, on his way to class, Ventor changed his route, feeling the need to vomit. He hurried to the nearest bathroom, but upon entering, his mind froze at the sight before him.

There lay Leo, his little brother, writhing on the ground, battered and bleeding from all over. The same three tormentors who bullied him relentlessly were now subjecting Leo to the same brutality.

"Oh look, here comes the other loser brother-"

Ventor paid no attention to their words. A skull materialized in his hand, his ability allowing the skull to inflict light cuts on his enemies—a skill he had intended to train and grow stronger, as it was quite weak at the moment and could barely cause a small scratch. But at that moment, he didn't care.

He craved the power to annihilate those who harmed his brother! He wanted to kill them all, to slaughter them all! Their families, everyone! Kill them all!

Ord poured out of him, and he fed every negative emotion and thought into his special ability.

An invisible slash sliced through the air, visible only to Ventor, instantly decapitating one of the boys. The mocking smiles of the other two faded. He had attacked them before they could respond.

Ventor realized he had been a fool all along. He should have done this from the beginning. If he had, then his brother wouldn't have been dragged along with him!

One of the guys stuttered. "W-Wait, if this is about your fiancée, I only wa—"

Another slash, and this time, none were left standing. He crouched down to examine his younger brother's battered face—split lip, black eye, and swelling on the left side. Leo moaned something, but his swollen face made it difficult to comprehend.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked as tears stung his own eyes.

“I… I didn’t want to drag you in too,” his brother hiccupped and cried on his shoulder.

Ventor's heart hurt like never before, it felt like a nail had been driven through it, but despite his tears he couldn’t weep. He no longer cared about his futile clan that preached honor instead of strength.

If adhering to honor had led him to this point, then what was the point of upholding it? He didn't care anymore.

From now on, he would live according to his own rules!

...

Ventor opened his eyes, tearing himself away from painful memories. His heart, filled with rage even after all this time, had begun to calm. He had already enacted his revenge, annihilating the clans of those who had humiliated him, down to the last baby still in their mother’s womb.

His brother had aided him, creating the bomber armor that would handle the first hit, which allowed Ventor to retaliate with his ability as the condition of the opponent attacking someone of his clan was fulfilled.

Among the victims, only a young girl survived, the sister of one of Ventor's old tormentors. She possessed talent and was being groomed to become a Special Exorcist by her clan.

Despite Ventor's original intention to eliminate her, he ended up taking her as his wife in a marriage that she had obviously detested. He had slaughtered her relatives, parents, and both younger and older siblings.

That woman was Delia's mother, and his daughter inherited her mother's potential. Ventor had considered having more children with her, but she took her own life too early.

He regretted not keeping her as a captive solely for procreation. He had been too soft back then, even allowing her to see the sun and sky. That would never happen again.

His unwavering beliefs had withstood the test of time, and his clan had grown stronger than ever before. Ventor had learned from his youth, and killed anyone who dared to stand against his clan.

No one, be it a royal or a member of a great clan, dared to provoke anyone from the Dark Sword Clan.

‘Never... Never again will I be so weak. Never again will anyone hurt my family!’

Suddenly, the door to his room swung open, revealing Delia, his daughter. Her eyes held no remorse, and behind her lay a trail of bloodied bodies in the hallway. She held fistfuls of white hair, belonging to the decapitated heads of the clan elders.

With a nonchalant gesture, she tossed the severed heads before her father's feet.

"So, what about that clan head position?" she inquired, her voice chillingly calm.

Ventor's heart raced. Nonetheless, he calmly rose to his feet. "Why do you ask such a question when your bloodlust makes it clear that you would kill me regardless of my answer?"

Delia smiled, and for a moment, Ventor questioned if this was still his daughter, for her smile bore a strange childlike innocence and sweetness.