The air atop the West Wing of the Luxmore manor was thin and biting, carrying the scent of impending rain and the metallic tang of spent mana. Arain stood on the edge of the stone gargoyle, his tattered tunic fluttering in the wind. Behind him, the Archive was a silent tomb of secrets, and below him, the estate was waking up like a disturbed hornets' nest.
His body felt like it was being torn apart from the inside. The 'Abyssal Domain' he had used on Hector wasn't just a spell; it was a manifestation of a higher plane of existence that his current physical vessel could barely contain. Every breath felt like inhaling shards of dry ice.
[System Notification: Warning!]
[Mana Veins are experiencing 'Abyssal Erosion'.]
[Condition: Level 1 Mana Exhaustion. Recommendation: Rest for 6 hours.]
"Rest?" Arain whispered, a grimace twisting his pale features. "I didn't return from the dead to sleep while my enemies are still breathing."
He looked down at his hands. They were still stained with the grey frost of the Abyss. He had reached Level 7, a jump that would take a normal noble years of meditation and expensive mana stones. But Arain knew the price. In the Luxmore family, you were either the hammer or the anvil. Tonight, for the first time in two lives, he had been the hammer.
'Hector's face,' Arain thought, a cold satisfaction washing over him. 'The look of pure, unadulterated terror when his "Prodigy" mana was being siphoned away. It was more intoxicating than any wine.'
But he couldn't stay here. The Duke would be in the Archive in minutes. Valerius Luxmore was not a man to be trifled with; he was a Rank 6 Solar Knight, a man whose presence alone could burn the skin of lesser beings.
Arain closed his eyes and summoned the last of his strength.
"Ghost Step."
His silhouette blurred, becoming a semi-transparent mist that blended perfectly with the shadows of the eaves. He moved with the grace of a phantom, jumping from one balcony to the next, heading toward the only place in the manor that was darker than his own room: the servant's stables.
Inside the stables, the warmth of the horses and the smell of hay acted as a natural cloak for his Abyssal scent. Arain collapsed onto a pile of straw in the furthest corner, his lungs burning. He pulled out the leather-bound book he had stolen: The Chronicles of the Eclipse.
The cover felt alive. The black sun crest seemed to pulse beneath his fingertips.
"System," he muttered, his voice cracking. "Open the data fragment. Tell me about the 'Blood Ritual'."
The blue screen flickered into existence, casting a ghostly light on the ancient pages.
[Hidden History: The Blood Ritual of the Eclipse]
[Lore: The Luxmores did not inherit the Light; they stole it. To reclaim the Abyssal Star, the true heir must bathe the Abyssal Core in the essence of 'Sacred Beings'—creatures touched by the Solar Phoenix.]
[Quest Phase 1: The First Offering]
[Target: The Golden Swan of the Manor Gardens.]
[Reward: Abyss Heart (Passive) - Nullifies Mana Exhaustion by 50%.]
Arain's eyes narrowed as he read the details. The Golden Swan was a gift from the Royal Family. It was more than a bird; it was a living symbol of the Luxmore's loyalty to the Light. Killing it wasn't just a quest; it was a declaration of war. It was the ultimate middle finger to everything Duke Valerius stood for.
'To think...' Arain mused, his fingers tracing the blackened pages. 'All these years, they called me a curse. A mana-less failure. But I am the only true Luxmore left. The rest of them are just golden frauds sitting on a stolen throne.'
The memories of his past life began to bleed into his mind—the chains, the cold cell, the way his father looked at him with nothing but disgust before the executioner's blade fell. The rage that had been a simmering ember in his chest suddenly roared into a wildfire.
"They want a villain?" Arain hissed, the shadows in the stable beginning to twist and writhe in response to his emotions. "I'll give them a monster they can't even dream of."
[Alert: Duke Valerius has entered the Archive.]
[Detection Risk: High. The Duke is using 'Solar Scan'.]
Arain felt a sudden wave of heat wash over the entire estate. It was as if the sun had suddenly appeared in the middle of the night. This was his father's signature move—a mana pulse that could detect any 'impure' energy within a kilometer.
Arain quickly pressed the book to his chest and willed his mana to go silent.
"Void Veil."
He felt his heartbeat slow down. His body temperature dropped. To any external scan, he was now as cold and lifeless as the stone walls around him.
Outside the stable, he heard the frantic shouting of guards.
"Search the West Wing! Check the gardens! No one leaves the manor gates!"
"He's angry," Arain whispered, a dark, jagged smile appearing on his face. "Good. An angry tiger makes mistakes. And I am the thorn he won't see coming until it's in his throat."
He spent the next few hours in total stillness, waiting for the Solar Scan to fade. He used this time to distribute his new stat points. He needed agility and intelligence. In this house, he couldn't outmuscle his father yet, but he could certainly outthink him.
[Stats Updated:]
[Agility: 22 -> 35]
[Intelligence: 30 -> 45]
[Mana: 120 -> 250 (Base)]
The increase in intelligence brought a sudden clarity to his mind. The Abyssal energy, which had felt like a wild beast before, was now becoming more manageable. He could feel the flow of mana in the air around him—the weak, flickering lights of the servants, the steady, rhythmic pulses of the guards, and the roaring furnace of power that was his father.
As the first hints of dawn began to touch the horizon, the Solar Scan finally retracted. The Duke had likely concluded that the 'intruder' had escaped or was an illusion.
Arain stood up, his joints popping. The mana exhaustion was still there, a dull ache in his bones, but his resolve was ironclad. He looked toward the inner gardens, where the Golden Swan would be waking up to greet the sun.
"The Blood Ritual begins today," Arain said, tucking the book into a secret hollow beneath the stable floor. "And by tonight, the Duke will realize that his golden bird isn't the only thing that's been sacrificed."
He stepped out of the stables, blending into the early morning mist. The path to the garden was guarded, but to a boy who could walk through shadows, the guards were nothing more than scenery.
This was the calm before the storm. Arain Luxmore was no longer just a survivor; he was a saboteur. And the Luxmore Manor was about to become his first battlefield.