The spilled blood on the cold ground slowly lost its warmth, sinking into the ancient pattern carved beneath the stone floor, and as the last drop was absorbed, the air itself trembled, as if the world had acknowledged the offering, and in that trembling silence, a message formed before everyone's eyes, glowing faintly, declaring that the sacrifice had been accepted and that the entrance to the Holo Creature World had been authorized.
The moment the message appeared, every child present felt an invisible pressure press against their chests, and without needing to be told, all their gazes shifted in the same direction, locking onto the lone figure standing at the center of the hall Edward Shade.
To them, Edward was no longer just another participant standing among peers of similar age and status; in their minds, shaped by fear and survival instinct, he had already transformed into something else entirely, something twisted and dangerous, something that existed beyond the boundary of what they could still call human, because the image of blood on his hands had burned itself into their memories.
A monster.
A killer.
Edward remained standing in the middle of the open space, his posture relaxed yet unnaturally steady, and when he finally took a single step forward, the reaction was immediate and instinctive, as the children nearest to him moved back without realizing they were doing so, their bodies responding before their minds could argue, creating a widening circle of distance around him.
With each step Edward took, the space around him grew emptier, and the air thickened with caution, then with fear, until that fear spread like a silent disease, crawling into every corner of the hall, infecting even those who tried to hide their expressions behind calm masks.
This was what Edward wanted.
Fear was far more effective than violence, because fear lingered, nested itself deep inside the heart, and slowly rotted judgment and courage from within, leaving people trapped by their own imagination, unable to move freely even when no chains existed.
As Edward walked, the children parted as if an unseen force pushed them aside, and when he reached Derek, he stopped, lifted the sword fragment, and extended it toward him in a calm, almost casual motion, as though the weight of the moment meant nothing to him.
Every single person present saw the exchange clearly.
Yet Derek did not reach out.
Instead, he looked at Edward steadily and said, in a voice controlled enough to sound sincere, "Keep it. You'll need it more than I will. Most of this was meant for you anyway."
For a brief moment, their eyes met, and in that silent exchange, more was communicated than words could ever express.
Derek gave a slight nod.
Kinston , standing nearby, mirrored the gesture.
Another message shimmered into existence.
One hour remaining before entry into the Holo World.
Edward turned away without another word and moved toward a shadowed corner of the hall, where he lowered himself to the ground, crossed his legs, and sat down with deliberate calm, as if the tension filling the space had nothing to do with him.
He took out a coin, placed it carefully between his palms, interlocked his fingers around it, and closed his eyes, shutting out the stares, the whispers, and the judgment that clung to the air.
"So this was your plan all along," he murmured softly, the words meant only for himself.
A faint smile formed at the corner of his lips, one that carried neither warmth nor humor, but quiet understanding.
The Eternal Bloodline needed a scapegoat.
They needed someone to absorb the hatred, suspicion, and blame that would inevitably follow the first kill, someone whose existence could be sacrificed without regret, someone whose death, if necessary, would not destabilize the delicate balance they had built.
For the first blood to be spilled, many conditions had to align.
The killer could not be from the Common Bloodline, because common blood lacked restraint and loyalty, and such people could flee, talk, or leak information the moment fear overtook them.
Fragment users, despite their power, knew too much about the system, about the consequences, and about the unspoken rules, and none of them would voluntarily stain their hands with the first irreversible sin.
So their thoughts turned to Edward Shade.
An exile.
A child abandoned by his own bloodline.
A name with no backing.
A life that could be erased without consequence.
Perfect.
But suspicion was a dangerous thing, and even monsters needed to be shaped carefully, so they wrapped their intentions in kindness, knowing full well that in this world, kindness without cost did not exist.
To make it believable, they chose Derek.
A cousin.
A blood relation.
Someone whose involvement would look like family loyalty rather than manipulation.
Derek was given the role.
He cleared paths during entry, subtly guiding Edward forward.
He showed protection, discouraging others from bullying him.
He provided clothes, spoke kindly, offered companionship.
All of it was goodwill on the surface.
All of it was preparation underneath.
They separated Eternal Bloodline children from Common Bloodline children under the excuse of order and hierarchy, but in truth, it was nothing more than the arrangement of prey, an unspoken signal that the weaker lives were now acceptable sacrifices.
They were saying, without words: Kill anyone you want. No one will stop you.
Everyone except Derek had been given a weapon fragment suitable for killing.
Everything from the very beginning had been orchestrated.
Edward had always known that free kindness did not exist.
He knew he was being used.
He simply did not know how.
So he played along.
The moment the world completed its formation, the truth revealed itself clearly.
Kinston had baited him with an easy target.
Derek had placed the weapon in his hands.
The kill had been his to take.
Now, in everyone's eyes, he was the villain.
If information ever leaked, they would present him as the sole culprit, kill him, and erase the stain from themselves.
It was clever.
And Edward accepted it.
Isolation had always been his ally, and the fewer people who approached him, the freer he would become.
Yet one question lingered.
Why did the Clan Head give him the pocket watch?
Why display favor so openly?
The answer came slowly.
If Edward, the villain, were killed by an Eternal or Fragment Bloodline, that killer would be celebrated as a hero.
Reputation would rise.
Power would consolidate.
But the pocket watch was a warning.
A public signal.
Do not touch him.
At least, not yet.
"What a clever play," Edward thought.
Nice.
Very nice.
"You've shown me your side," he concluded inwardly. "So now, I'll show you mine."
Edward stood, straightened his clothes, adjusted himself calmly, and pulled out the pocket watch, glancing at the time.
Thirty minutes remained.
"Thirty minutes before the gate opens," he said softly. "More than enough."
He stepped forward and raised his voice.
"Everyone," he announced, "my name is Edward Shade."
He bowed slightly.
"We're going to play a game."
"A game of life and death."
"If you don't want to play, give me something useful from your bag."
"If you don't give, you play."
"The rules are simple."
He flipped the coin.
"Dragon Claw—you die."
"Ravenclaw—you live."
"Now," he asked, "who's first?"