Evolution of the Ruined Heir

The Sovereign finally spoke. Just one word.

"No."

At the Sovereign's words, the expressions of many shifted. They each felt utterly shocked.

Varnel's suggestion had truly been reasonable.

Although many of them had sensed a hint of his manipulative tendencies from the way he had packaged the whole thing, making it seem like it was entirely for the clan's benefit, it didn't change the fact that if it succeeded, it would be invaluable to the clan.

The fact that the Sovereign didn't even consider it…

The gazes of the Pulses and the Highbloods suddenly widened as they all came to the same realization.

The Sovereign had taken an interest in Malakai.

A frown appeared on Varnel's face as he heard the Sovereign's response.

"But Sovereign, why—"

Just as he was about to object, the Sovereign suddenly rose.

He had barely even risen fully when everyone in the hall felt it.

Their eyes widened.

The Sovereign was about to stand!

As the realization slammed into them, their bodies moved without hesitation.

Every single person in the hall, from Pulses to Highbloods, to the Veins, even Malakai, Nyx, and Varek, all shot up from their seats before sinking down on one knee, loud bangs echoing across the room as they bowed their heads low.

As the Sovereign stood, his aura pressed down on them like a mountain, freezing them in place.

He stood at the top of the platform like a god overlooking his subjects.

The power of a Zenith.

"Hear my words."

His voice sounded like a decree.

And as it echoed, every single person slammed a fist against their chest with a loud bam, responding in perfect unison—

"Yes, Sovereign!"

Their voices were filled with nothing but reverence.

They awaited his words.

"From now henceforth, Malakai will be treated just like every other Vein in the clan. Any disrespect towards him will be seen as one directed towards the direct lineage.

He will be allowed to join the training sessions of the clan."

Then his gaze shifted.

"And Varnel."

Varnel froze. It felt like a planet had slammed onto his back.

"Y-yes, Sovereign!" he responded quickly.

The Sovereign's eyes bored into him.

"You will not be using him, or any direct descendant, as a test subject."

"The direct descendants are the lifeblood of the Sanguine Clan. Its core. Any attack towards them is an attack towards the entire clan."

His gaze shifted again.

"Caelum."

"My Sovereign," the Iron Saint responded instantly, bowing even further.

Then the Sovereign's tone turned sharp.

"Get to the bottom of the 9th Vein's ambush. Use everything at your disposal. You have my full support."

His voice grew colder.

"Bring the perpetrators to their knees in front of me."

"By your word," Caelum replied.

Then, the Sovereign turned back toward Varnel.

"Is that clear?"

"…Yes, Sovereign."

Varnel responded with clenched fists.

Just then, the Sovereign swept his gaze across the entire hall, his aura tightening its grip on them all.

"Is that clear?"

The response came instantly:

"Yes, Sovereign!"

The Sovereign nodded.

And just as he was about to dismiss the meeting, Malakai's voice suddenly rang out from below.

"Sovereign."

The Sovereign turned and saw Malakai kneeling just like the others, head bowed.

"Speak."

Malakai clenched his fists, fighting against the immense pressure from the Sovereign's gaze before he spoke.

"I respectfully request an audience."

At his words, the gazes of the Pulses and Highbloods narrowed slightly in their bows.

An audience?

What could Malakai possibly want to see the Sovereign for?

Their thoughts swirled as they silently awaited the Sovereign's response.

A few seconds passed. Still, the Sovereign didn't respond.

He simply stared at Malakai.

'Would he not follow through on his promise?'

Malakai's thoughts churned.

He was relieved that the Sovereign had denied Varnel's request and had clearly shown interest in him.

But the moment that goal had been achieved, Malakai's focus had shifted to something else.

Something just as important.

'I have to see him… and find out the answers.'

Malakai's fists clenched tighter.

The seconds ticked by, and then finally, the Sovereign responded.

"Achieve the first rank in the Fresh Blood ranking… and I will grant you your audience."

The expressions of Malakai, and the other Veins, shifted.

The Fresh Blood Rankings.

While the Sanguine Clan had a general ranking that comprised every single member of the clan, the leaders had seen the need to create additional systems.

And among them… was this one.

The Fresh Blood ranking.

Unlike the general list, this was made specifically for the next generation, youths from the age of twelve, when they first evolved, up until twenty.

It made the path to recognition a little more structured. A little more accessible for younger evolvers.

And it separated the elites… from the rest.

Still, that didn't mean it was easy. Not even close.

Newly evolved members were forced to compete against twenty-year-olds, those who had already carved out their names, honed their strength, and built up power over the years.

Because of that, reaching the top… especially for someone like Malakai, who was only fourteen, was almost impossible.

But that wasn't what made the other Veins throw cold looks in his direction.

It was the condition itself.

The fact that the Sovereign had given him that condition could only mean one thing.

The Sovereign believed Malakai could do it.

Malakai's fists tightened further, his knuckles whitening.

And then he responded through gritted teeth.

"…Yes, Sovereign."

Hearing this, the Sovereign stared at Malakai for a few seconds. Then, he turned his head away and said:

"You're all dismissed."

Though he spoke the words, no one stood.

Not a single soul.

They waited with their heads bowed, watching in silence as the Sovereign descended the platform and made his way toward the door at the side of the hall.

As he stepped through and exited, the weight in the hall lifted.

The immense pressure that had been pressing down on all of them vanished.

As it did, Malakai didn't hesitate. He stood up immediately, gripping his scythe tightly.

Without sparing a glance at anyone, he turned and walked straight toward the exit.

He could feel their eyes.

Pulses. Highbloods. Veins.

All of them staring and burning holes into his back.

But he didn't care, nor did he freeze. He simply left the hall.

Outside, the guards posted at the entrance whispered among themselves, eyes wide and voices hushed as they saw him step out.

Malakai ignored every single one of them.

He moved quickly, his feet crunching through the leaves as he cut across the forest path, weaving through the trees until he finally reached his manor.

Silence greeted him.

And he disappeared inside.