The cheers of the arena had not yet faded.
Dust floated through the air like scattered memories of the battle that had just ended. Broken stone covered the arena floor, cracks running across the ground like veins of a dying beast.
Keil Voss walked calmly toward the exit.
His expression had already returned to its usual stillness.
The Phoenix flames that once roared around him had long faded, leaving only the faint mark on his forehead—a symbol of a power that should not have awakened so early.
Most of the crowd was still whispering about the fight.
About the prodigy who defeated the prince of a conquering dynasty.
About the terrifying flames.
About the impossible breakthrough.
But Keil did not care.
Victories were temporary.
Power was temporary.
Only results mattered.
Then—
Crack.
The sound was quiet.
But unmistakable.
The sound of bones breaking.
Keil's eyes narrowed.
His body reacted instantly.
Without turning his head, he shifted one step to the side.
A moment later—
BOOM!!
An enormous force crashed through the stone wall where he had been standing a second earlier. The wall exploded outward, fragments flying like arrows.
Gasps erupted from the spectators.
Keil slowly turned around.
A terrifying aura filled the arena.
The temperature seemed to drop.
At the center of the ruined wall stood Evlien Hart.
But something about him had changed.
His body stood unnaturally still.
His breathing was slow.
His eyes—
Completely black.
Within that darkness, two small crimson pupils shone like dying stars.
He looked almost unconscious.
Almost.
But the aura around him told a different story.
Keil watched him quietly.
Then a faint smile appeared at the corner of his lips.
"So it awakens," he murmured softly.
The blood of the Supreme Emperor within the Hart bloodline had reacted.
Evlien slowly raised his hand.
Space rippled beside him.
A sword emerged from the void.
Not summoned from a storage ring.
Not drawn from a sheath.
But pulled directly from spatial fracture.
The blade was pitch black, its edge glowing faintly with scarlet light.
His aura surged.
And then—
It exploded.
The pressure slammed across the arena like a collapsing mountain.
Many weaker spectators nearly fainted instantly.
Some elders stood up in shock.
"Rank… Five?"
"No… Mid Stage…!"
Someone whispered in disbelief.
Cultivation in this world was divided into twenty-one ranks.
The first nine belonged to mortals.
Beyond them were the Immortal Stages.
But even within the mortal realm, each rank was like a different world.
And now—
Evlien Hart stood at Rank Five Mid Stage.
At sixteen years old.
Keil remained silent.
He understood the situation instantly.
This fight—
Could not be won.
Not now.
Not with his current body.
But retreat was never his nature.
He slowly released his aura again.
A violent wind spread outward.
His Phoenix Mark flickered faintly as spiritual energy gathered around him.
Then—
Two enormous wings of crimson flame spread from his back.
The crowd cried out.
Keil lifted into the air, stopping high above the broken arena.
His gaze looked down at Evlien like a blade suspended over a throat.
"Even if it causes trouble later," Keil said calmly, "I still want to keep cutting."
He opened his palm.
A strange object appeared.
A dark crimson puppet no larger than a hand.
Threads of blood-colored silk extended from its limbs.
The moment it appeared—
The elders in the audience stiffened.
"Rank Five treasure…"
"Blood Puppet…"
Even Cassian Voss, who had barely recovered from his earlier injuries, stared in shock.
Seraphine Vale's expression froze.
Lucien Veil's pupils shrank.
No one expected such a thing.
A treasure far above Keil's cultivation rank.
Even controlling it for a moment could destroy a cultivator's meridians.
But Keil held it without hesitation.
Evlien looked up at him.
For the first time since awakening, a faint trace of emotion appeared in his voice.
"So… you are a Blood Puppet master."
His tone was no longer arrogant.
It carried something else.
Respect.
"How many more surprises will you show me, Keil Voss?"
The wind roared between them.
Then Evlien moved.
He leapt upward like a black comet.
The distance between them vanished instantly.
Their gazes collided.
Both filled with murderous intent.
BOOM!!
Before Evlien could swing his sword—
A crimson thread flashed through the air.
His left arm separated from his body.
Blood sprayed across the sky.
Gasps erupted everywhere.
Keil stood in the air like an unmoving mountain.
His eyes were cold.
He knew the price of using the Blood Puppet.
Every second shortened his future.
Every movement strained his meridians.
But hesitation would only lead to death.
He had to end this quickly.
Blood threads erupted from the puppet in his hand.
They spread through the sky like a web of execution.
If even one thread pierced Evlien's heart—
He would die instantly.
Even if he carried the blood of emperors.
But just as the threads closed in—
Five figures suddenly appeared before Evlien.
His guardians.
Personal protectors sent by the Hart dynasty.
They moved without hesitation.
The blood threads struck.
The explosion of power tore through the sky.
Three of the guardians were blasted backward immediately, their bodies mangled and broken.
Two others caught the unconscious Evlien and retreated rapidly.
One of them stared at Keil with burning hatred.
"Keil Voss…"
His voice trembled with fury.
"I will remember you."
"Our king will not tolerate this."
The next moment—
They vanished.
Gone like wind.
Silence filled the arena.
High above the battlefield, Keil Voss remained floating.
Then the Blood Puppet fell from his hand.
His wings shattered into fading embers.
His body went limp.
He began falling from the sky.
But before he hit the ground—
Lucien rushed forward and caught him.
"Master!"
The world faded into darkness.
---
One Day Later
Keil slowly opened his eyes.
The first thing he saw was a ceiling of polished jade.
Soft light filtered through silk curtains.
He frowned slightly.
"Where… am I?"
A calm voice answered.
"You are in the palace."
Keil turned his head.
Sitting beside the bed was Castrophin Voss.
The Emperor of the Voss family.
Behind him stood Seraphine.
Her expression was complicated.
Castrophin sighed quietly.
"You truly caused quite a disturbance, child."
Keil remained silent.
"The Blood Puppet is a Rank Five treasure," Castrophin continued. "Using it with your cultivation is equivalent to cutting your own meridians with a blade."
Keil closed his eyes briefly.
His internal inspection confirmed the damage.
His meridians were strained.
Weak.
But not broken.
In his mind he thought calmly:
Mortal cultivation will not stop me.
The true obstacles lie in the immortal realm.
These wounds are nothing.
Castrophin continued speaking.
"Fortunately your meridians survived. But they are weakened."
"You will rest for one week."
"Seraphine will personally take care of you during that time."
"Your future cannot be risked for reckless actions."
His tone was cold.
But beneath it—
There was a trace of concern.
Keil slowly stood up from the bed.
He walked toward Castrophin and bowed slightly.
"Emperor, I appreciate your concern."
"But I do not require assistance."
"I can recover myself."
He glanced at Seraphine.
"You should not force her. She is likely busy."
Before he could continue—
Castrophin spoke again.
"My words are like lines carved into a mountain."
"If I say something…"
"You obey."
The room fell silent.
Keil looked at him quietly.
Inside his mind he laughed faintly.
Obedience?
We will see.
One day you will understand how disobedient I truly am.
But outwardly he smiled faintly.
"Very well, Emperor."
"I will not argue."
Castrophin stood up.
"Good."
He walked toward the door.
"Seraphine will take care of you."
The door closed behind him.
Now only two people remained in the room.
Keil sat back on the bed.
For a moment neither spoke.
Then Keil said calmly:
"Seraphine."
"I know you are not my biological sister."
Silence.
Seraphine's eyes widened.
Shock flashed across her face.
That secret was buried deep within the family archives.
Almost no one knew.
"How…?"
She stopped herself.
Keil looked at her with a faint smile.
But his eyes were colder than winter ice.
"I can keep silent about it."
He leaned back slightly.
"But first…"
"I need you to do something."
Seraphine's heartbeat quickened.
She understood something clearly in that moment.
Refusing him would be dangerous.
"What do you want me to do?" she asked carefully.
Keil's smile deepened slightly.
His voice remained calm.
"You will betray someone."
"Who?"
Keil answered immediately.
"Bruce Springsteen."
Seraphine froze.
Bruce Springsteen.
Her real brother.
The heir of her original family.
The man who once raised her.
She stared at Keil in disbelief.
"You… want me to betray my own brother?"
Keil's gaze was completely cold now.
"Yes."
His voice carried no hesitation.
No emotion.
"Because the next move in my plan…"
"…requires his downfall."