The iron gates of the capital didn't just slam; they groaned with the weight of a thousand years of royal tradition. For Arthur Fenric—once a prince, now the "Red Wolf"—that sound was the final heartbeat of his old life.
He stood at the edge of the Frost-Bound Barrens, the wind whipping his cloak like a tattered flag. In the distance, the spires of his father's palace glowed with the "pure" blue light of the Royal Mana Font. To the people inside, that blue was a symbol of divine right, a holy resonance that powered their heaters, their lights, and their egos. To Arthur, his own mana—a thick, viscous crimson that pulsed in his veins like a warning siren—was a curse.
It was the reason he was standing on the wrong side of the gate, facing a wilderness that had claimed better men than him. The royal healers had called his mana "diseased." They said it lacked the harmony of the Great Font. Standing in the snow, Arthur finally realized why: his mana didn't want to harmonize with the world. It wanted to rewrite it.
[INSERT FENRIC TRACK LINK HERE - Recommended: "87 Octane" or Dark Instrumental]
As the cold began to seep through his boots, a flicker of light—sharper than any torch—ignited in his vision. It wasn't physical; it was burned into his retinas by the very "disease" they feared.
[SYSTEM INITIALIZING...]
User: Arthur Fenric
Current Status: Exiled / Disgraced
Mana Purity: 0.0% (Type: Crimson/Infectious)
Trait: [Lone Wolf] - Efficiency increases when isolated.
Core Skill: [SYSTEM MIMICRY - LVL 1] (Locked: Optimization Required)
Arthur let out a breath that came out as a red-tinted mist. "Corrupted," he whispered, a bitter smile tugging at his lips. "They call it corruption because they can't control it. They fear the stain."
The Barrens were silent, but it wasn't the silence of peace; it was the silence of a predator holding its breath. He began to walk, his boots crunching through the frost-heavy brush. His body felt heavy, but for the first time in twenty-six years, the "clogged" feeling in his chest was gone. In the palace, he had tried to force his mana to be blue, to be "pure." It had felt like trying to breathe underwater. Out here, the crimson flow was unrestricted. It felt like blood. It felt like power.
The First BlueprintAfter an hour of trekking, the temperature dropped further. The "Pure" world was trying to freeze him out. He needed shelter, but more than that, he needed to understand the "Gift" his exile had triggered. He reached out and touched the trunk of a Black-Bark Cedar. The tree was ancient, its wood hardened by centuries of sub-zero winds. It was a survivor, just like him.
As his skin made contact, his vision shifted. The world didn't look like wood and snow anymore. It looked like Blueprints. The cedar was a complex web of glowing data strings: [Hardness: 88], [Thermal Retention: 42], [Combustion Point: 450°C].
[TARGET ANALYZED: BLACK-BARK CEDAR]
Action: Copying Physical Property: [Thermal Retention]...
Warning: Crimson Mana is bleaching target data...
Progress: 100% [Success]
"Copy it," Arthur grunted, his teeth chattering.
He felt his crimson mana surge from his core, traveling down his arm like liquid fire. It didn't just "channel" into the tree; it invaded it. He watched as the faint blue resonance of the wood turned a violent, dark red at his touch. The sensation was agonizing—like his veins were being filled with molten lead—but then, the chime sounded.
[NEW PASSIVE GAINED: CEDAR'S CORE]
Optimization: Penalty Removed.
Effect: Body temperature stabilized. 100% resistance to natural frost.
Note: Target Blueprint has been "Stained."
The shivering stopped instantly. The wind still bit at his face, but his skin felt as dense and warm as the ancient heartwood. He looked down at his hands. The dull red light wasn't just on the surface; it was deep in his marrow. He wasn't just a prince with "bad mana." He was a System Mimic who had just learned his first lesson: The world is just a collection of blueprints waiting to be stolen.
The Predator in the FrostThe stabilization came just in time. As the sun dipped below the jagged horizon, painting the snow in shades of violet and grey, a low growl vibrated through the ground. It wasn't a wolf. It was something heavier, something that smelled of old ice and wet fur.
From behind a cluster of frost-shattered rocks, a Frost-Claw Bear emerged. It was a massive beast, eight hundred pounds of muscle and matted fur that rattled like armor. Its eyes were the same "pure" cerulean blue as the palace mana—a natural predator fueled by the world's harmony. To the Bear, Arthur was an anomaly. A foreign stain on its white canvas.
Arthur didn't run. He couldn't. The [Lone Wolf] trait was pulsing in the corner of his eye, heightening his senses until he could see the bear's heartbeat thumping against its ribs.
[THREAT DETECTED: FROST-CLAW BEAR (LVL 5)]
Arthur's Level: 1
Survival Chance: 14% (Adjusting for Stained Logic...)
New Survival Chance: 48%
"Forty-eight percent," Arthur whispered, drawing a short, rusted blade. "Better than the odds my father gave me."
The bear charged. It was a mountain of white rage. Arthur didn't move until the last second. He activated his mana, pushing it into his legs. He didn't use the clumsy, "balanced" footwork of the palace guards. He used the raw, unrefined burst of the [Red Shift] he'd just glimpsed in his own soul.
[SKILL ACTIVATED: BURST DASH]
MP Cost: 10
Optimization: No speed decay on ice.
He moved like a red blur. He slid under the bear's massive swipe, the ice-claws whistling inches above his head. He didn't strike the bear's hide with his rusted iron. He struck the ground. With his hand pressed to the frozen earth, he dumped his mana into the "Blueprint" he had just taken from the Cedar tree.
"Stain."
The patch of snow beneath the bear's feet didn't just freeze; it transformed. It took on the structural density and razor-sharp grain of the Black-Bark Cedar, erupting into jagged, red-tinted spikes. The bear's own momentum worked against it. Its heavy front paws hit the reinforced earth, and the beast let out a roar of agony as its "pure" claws shattered against Arthur's "corrupted" creation.
Arthur rolled away, gasping for air. His MP bar was low, but he wasn't exhausted. He felt a strange, dark hunger. He watched the bear retreat, hobbled and bleeding crimson-tinted ichor where his spikes had pierced it.
The Red Wolf RisesArthur sat back against a rock, his lungs burning with the sweet, freezing air of the Barrens. He was exhausted, starving, and stuck in a wasteland, but for the first time in his life, he was the one holding the pen.
[EXPERIENCE GAINED]
Level Up: 1 -> 2
Stat Points Gained: +2
New Blueprint Slot Unlocked: [Empty]
He opened his status menu. The crimson light reflected in his eyes, masking the blue of his royal heritage. He looked at the palace in the distance—that glowing, blue lie.
"Keep your purity," Arthur said, his voice hardening into a blade. "I'll take the stain. I'm coming for everything you think is holy."