Following the maid down the grand stone corridors, a suffocating mixture of sorrow and profound joy tightened Ares's chest. Every familiar face he passed—servants and guards he had watched die gruesome deaths in his previous life—was alive and breathing.
I died when I was twenty-five, Ares thought, his mind racing. My body right now is twenty. That means I have exactly five years to figure out why we were targeted, and five years to find the bastard with the golden-red hair.
He tried to recall the modern world he had originally come from, but the memories were slipping away like water through his fingers. The skyscrapers, the screens, the past life—it was all becoming a blurry, distant dream. He didn't care. Right now, he was Ares Valentine, and his only priority was saving the family standing in front of him.
He stepped into the grand dining hall. Sitting at the head of the long, polished oak table was his father, Cassius Valentine. The man looked exactly as Ares remembered: broad-shouldered and battle-hardened, with thick golden-yellow hair and a beard that framed a face lined with the heavy wrinkles of war.
Beside him sat Livia Valentine. She was breathtakingly beautiful, but what immediately drew the eye was her pristine, snow-white hair. It was the absolute genetic hallmark of House Invictus, a physical manifestation of their terrifyingly deep Aethel reserves. Their union hadn't been a cold, calculated political arrangement; Cassius and Livia had famously fallen in love during their time at the Imperial Academy, defying the strict traditions of the Four Great Houses to be together.
As Ares approached, Livia's face lit up. She stood gracefully, walked over to him, and pulled him into a deep, warm embrace.
"How are you doing this morning, my son?" she asked, her eyes full of maternal warmth.
Ares swallowed the heavy lump in his throat. "I'm fine, Mother," he replied softly, keeping his answers brief so his voice wouldn't betray his emotions.
"Come, sit with us," she smiled.
Cassius didn't say much. He simply met Ares's gaze and gave a firm, reassuring nod, gesturing to the empty chair. Ares took his seat and began to eat, savoring the taste of food he thought he would never experience again.
Then, surprisingly, his usually stoic father broke the silence.
"So, you are officially receiving your Divine Pathway today, Ares."
"Yes, Father."
"Are you prepared for the Sanctum?" Cassius asked, his sharp, golden eyes evaluating his son.
"I am ready, Father," Ares said, keeping his face perfectly neutral.
"Dear, don't press him so hard," Livia scolded lightly, placing a hand on Cassius's arm before turning a proud smile toward Ares. "Don't worry, you will do brilliantly. You have the blood of both our Houses flowing through your veins, after all."
Cassius let out a rare, low chuckle. "Indeed he does. Who knows? With Invictus and Valentine blood, maybe the gods will grant him two pathways."
"Who knows," Ares echoed, a hidden, dangerous edge to his voice.
His father was joking, but Ares knew it was the exact truth.
To break through Tier 2 of the Ascendant Steps and become an Evocati, every noble had to enter a specific Awakening Sanctum. There, they would project their internal Aethel outward, connecting with the vast cosmos to receive the gods' blessing. The rules of the world dictated that a warrior could only receive one of the Seven Divine Pathways. Even if someone awakened a unique or strange ability, it was always just a rare branch extending from one of those original seven paths.
But Ares wasn't going to ask the cosmos for a pathway. Armed with the Primordial Lingua Caelestium on his wrist, the monstrous Aethel capacity of his mother's bloodline, and the violent physique of his father's house, Ares was going to force the cosmos to submit to him. Today, he wouldn't just awaken a branch; he would tear two opposing pathways from the stars and violently fuse them into the Crimson Solar Eclipse.
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The meal ended with a heavy, unspoken anticipation in the air.
Rather than calling for a carriage to take them to the Imperial Academy, Cassius stood up and gestured for Ares to follow. Because House Valentine was the Vanguard of the Empire, their awakening process wasn't a public spectacle meant for the cheering masses. It was a sacred, bloody rite, hidden deep beneath the earth.
Cassius and Livia led Ares down a spiraling stone staircase that plunged into the very foundations of the Valentine estate. The air grew colder, smelling of ancient dust, rusted iron, and the faint, metallic tang of dried blood.
"The Academy Sanctum is for lesser nobles and scholars," Cassius's deep voice echoed off the damp stone walls. "A Valentine does not ask the cosmos for power surrounded by gawking politicians. We draw our power in the dark, where our ancestors bled."
They arrived at a massive set of iron doors forged in the shape of crossed greatswords. As Cassius pushed them open, the private Awakening Sanctum revealed itself.
It was a vast, cavernous underground chamber. The walls were lined with the shattered weapons and battered armor of fallen Valentine ancestors. In the center of the room lay a wide, circular stone altar, intricately carved with the rigid, geometric lines of the Lingua Caelestium. Directly above the altar, a vertical shaft had been carved all the way through the castle rock, revealing a perfect, circular view of the morning sky and the fading stars.
"Step into the center, Ares," Livia said softly, her white hair glowing faintly in the dim light. "Close your eyes. Let your Vessel open, and let your Aethel reach up through the shaft to touch the cosmos. Do not force it. The Path of Martis will recognize your blood and answer."
Ares stepped onto the cold stone altar. He looked at his father, who gave a stern nod, and his mother, who watched with anxious pride. Then, he looked up at the circle of sky.
He closed his eyes and unleashed his Vessel.
Instantly, his body erupted with a heavy, golden-yellow aura. To Cassius and Livia, it was a beautiful display of their son's massive Aethel capacity. But inside Ares's mind, a violent storm was brewing.
His consciousness rocketed upward, connecting with the vast, unfathomable weight of the cosmos. Immediately, he felt it: a massive, roaring tide of crimson energy, smelling of iron and slaughter. It was the Path of Martis, rushing down from the stars to claim him, recognizing the Valentine blood in his veins.
If Ares were normal, he would have surrendered to it.
Not this time, Ares thought, his mind razor-sharp.
Using the cold, calculating intellect of his modern soul, Ares forcefully expanded his Vessel to its absolute breaking point—a feat only possible because of his mother's Invictus genetics. He reached past the roaring crimson tide of Martis and violently grasped a second, distant star: a blinding, searing pillar of pure white-gold light. The Path of Apollonis.
CRACK.
The sound of shattering stone echoed through the cavern. Cassius stepped forward, his eyes widening in shock.
"What is happening?" Livia gasped, instinctively stepping toward the altar. "His Aethel... it's too dense! He's going to Overdraw!"
On the altar, Ares dropped to one knee, a primal growl tearing from his throat. The pain was apocalyptic. He was trying to smash the raw concepts of Light and Blood together inside his own body. His veins bulged, glowing white-hot beneath his skin.
He raised his left arm. The Carnifex-Ferrum—the bloody chains of his Primordial Rune—flared violently to life, trying to suppress the foreign Apollonis magic. But Ares refused to let go. He forced his Aethel through his own blood, commanding the elements to fuse.
"Merge," Ares hissed, spitting out a mouthful of blood that vaporized before it even hit the stone.
Suddenly, the blinding golden light and the violent crimson energy snapped together.
A shockwave of heavy, suffocating red light exploded outward, cracking the stone pillars and forcing both Cassius and Livia to raise their arms against the sheer gravitational pressure. The temperature in the room skyrocketed.
When the light finally settled, Ares was standing in the center of the ruined altar.
He wasn't engulfed in the standard aura of a single pathway. Instead, his entire body was radiating a terrifying, dark-red energy that seemed to consume the light around it. The crimson chains on his left arm had mutated, fractured with veins of blinding, geometric gold. When he opened his eyes, his right pupil had shattered into a glowing kaleidoscope of gold and blood-red light.
He had successfully forged the Crimson Solar Eclipse.
Cassius stared at his son, utterly speechless, his battle-hardened instincts screaming that the boy standing on the altar was no longer just an Evocati, but something entirely unprecedented.