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Chapter 14 - Roots (2)

The ritual for awakening one's innate abilities traditionally occurs when a person reaches the age of five. During this ceremony, the individual consumes a drug that was once exclusively accessible to nobles but is now available to everyone, regardless of wealth. The drug is diamond-shaped and ominously black, The drug, when consumed, is intensely sour, delivering a shock so powerful it feels like a physical slap. It's crafted from a plant called vervain. After taking the drug, the individual undergoes a grueling regimen of training and meditation, designed to push the human body to its absolute limits. Each day brings a new challenge so extreme it could be fatal. This is why, despite the drug being widely available, few choose to take it. For three relentless months, participants push themselves to the brink, enduring training that aims to break every muscle, testing their endurance to the very edge,

On the last day, all the rankers have witnessed—or will witness—the newly awakened ranker. Upon awakening, they find themselves in a white world, an endless expanse of pure white. In this world, the only contrasting feature is a small girl sitting on the ground, her hand gently stirring a black pond. The pond's darkness stands out starkly against the whiteness of the surroundings, making it unmistakable. The girl seems to be lost in her own thoughts, quietly playing with the water in the otherwise featureless world ,With her long, snowy white hair cascading down her back, her pale skin was so translucent that her black veins were visible, pulsating with every heartbeat. Her appearance was haunting, as if she were a ghostly figure come to life. As she looked up at you, her empty eye sockets seemed to pierce through your very soul, as though she could see everything about you. Her gaze, devoid of eyes but filled with an abyssal darkness, paralyzed you, leaving you unable to move a single inch, no matter who you are. Time stretched into an eternity as she sized you up, her lips slowly curling into a chilling smile that reached from ear to ear. In a voice just barely audible, yet impossible to ignore, she whispered, "I welcome you."

She is known by many names—the White Whisper, the Supreme Monarch, Luna—but the title that resonates most is simply *The One*. Scholars have long debated whether she is a deity, though the truth remains veiled in secrecy. She only appears to those who attain the legendary SSS rank—a rare achievement—or to those just beginning their journey.

On this bright day, Lucy Gracefield marks her birthday not with celebration like her peers, but with quiet resolve. Instead of festivities, she finds herself deep within a grove of ancient trees, preparing to awaken her innate ability, the air thick with anticipation and the promise of untapped power.

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The final day has arrived, marking the end of three long months of anticipation. Everyone is eager to see what Lucy Gracefield's innate ability will be—will she inherit her father's power or her mother's? The moment of success is unmistakable: a blinding light erupts from within the person, and for an instant, their veins darken like ink.

As Lucy stands at the brink of this transformation, her father and brother remain close by, their eyes fixed on her, waiting for the brilliant light that will reveal her true potential, In a world devoid of color, where everything was plain white, I stood, staring at the little girl everyone spoke of in whispers. But instead of the usual greeting, "I welcome you," the words that fell from her lips were chilling: "You are meant to be dead." Fear began to build within me as I locked eyes with her, unable to look away.

She moved closer, drawing near until her face was just inches from mine. As I looked at her, I realized she had no eyes, yet it felt as if she could see through everything—nothing was hidden from her. Then, in a voice that chilled me to the core, she whispered, "You will suffer. The world does not see you as one of its own. Your very existence is a curse upon those you love and anyone who dares to come close to you."

Confusion clouded my mind as I struggled to comprehend her words. With a single finger, she pushed me, her voice lingering in the air, "Forgotten Echo." The next moment, I was back, only to find myself utterly speechless—a sword tip pressed against my neck, drawing a thin line of blood.