In the blink of an eye, 7 years had passed.
Inside a lavishly decorated room in Oltheros Palace, an ten-year-old boy lay sprawled across his bed, his raven-black hair falling over his pillow, which was stained with a small patch of drool. In his sleep, he mumbled, his voice weak and pleading.
"No, sis... please… let me eat first... I can't run anymore… let me live… for the sake of the family name..."
Suddenly, his instincts flared.
His crimson eyes snapped open just in time to see a fist hurtling toward his face. But before he could react, it struck him right on the forehead with a dull thud.
"Ow!" Amon groaned, clutching his head.
Still half-dazed, he turned his gaze toward the culprit. Standing over him was a young girl, her pale complexion as flawless as a porcelain doll. Her shoulder-length crimson hair was neatly curled, accentuating the golden and crimson ornaments that adorned her. Draped over her shoulders was a luxurious red cloak embroidered with the motif of a phoenix, the symbol of their lineage.
Amon glared at her.
"Ouch, ouch! Sis, what do you want from me?! You won't even let me sleep peacefully!" He huffed, sitting up with a scowl. "I swear, I'll tell Mother this time!"
Anastasia, his older sister, folded her arms, her lips curving into an amused smirk.
"Dear brother, how could you say that?" she asked, feigning innocence. "Do you even know what time it is? It's already past noon! Do you want to be late for today's event? You do realize how important this day is, don't you?"
Amon let out a long sigh.
"But it's your fault!" he retorted, still rubbing the sore spot on his forehead. "You made me train with you until evening! My body was so sore that Selene had to carry me back to my room and feed me!"
Anastasia raised an eyebrow.
"Because Mother was busy with the preparations for today," he added, feeling wronged.
Many things had changed over the past 7 years, but one thing that remained the same was Amon's weak body. No matter how much he ate, no matter how many healing elixirs he consumed, his condition never improved. Unlike others in their noble bloodline, his body lacked mana veins, rendering him unable to absorb mana. Compared to his peers, he was as weak as an Unawakened.
"So what?" Anastasia scoffed. "Only by pushing your limits can you harden yourself!"
"Easy for you to say…" Amon muttered under his breath.
Unfortunately, his sister had sharp ears.
"What did you just say—?" She raised her fist again.
Before another blow could land, a soft yet commanding voice interrupted them.
"Ahem. Ana, are you bullying your brother again?"
Both children turned their heads toward the entrance of the room.
A woman stood there, her beauty ethereal, her amber eyes filled with quiet authority. She wore an elegant gown that shimmered with delicate embroidery, and her long dark hair cascaded gracefully down her back.
"No, Mother!" Anastasia answered quickly, standing straight.
"Yes, she is!" Amon pointed an accusatory finger at his sister. "This devil incarnate will kill me with her training one day, I swear!"
Anastasia sent him a sharp glare before delivering another thwack to his head. This time, Amon didn't hesitate—he immediately bolted toward his mother, seeking refuge behind her.
Elara sighed, shaking her head with an amused smile.
"Honey, go easy on your brother," she gently scolded Anastasia. Then, turning to Amon, she gave him a knowing look. "And you—why aren't you ready yet? I know you're fatigued, But today is an important day for your sister. It's her thirteenth birthday and her bloodline awakening ceremony. You do understand how significant this is for our family , don't you?"
Amon pursed his lips.
"Yes, Mother."
"Then go and get ready."
With a clap of her hands, four maids appeared in the room. Before Amon could protest, they grabbed him and dragged him toward the bathroom.
Even after ten years since reincarnation , this was something he still wasn't used to.
The maids worked efficiently—brushing his teeth, scrubbing him clean, and finally, preparing a luxurious bath infused with Starfox blood. It was said that this beast's blood was as pure as the stars, capable of purging all impurities and healing fatigue.
*The kind of wealth even ducal houses couldn't afford*, Amon thought wryly.* Hah… if only my death weren't already decided.*
Once the bath was complete, the head maid, Nina, handed him his clothes.
"Thank you, Nina, but I can dress myself," he said, hoping to regain some dignity.
"You are welcome, Young Master," Nina replied politely, though her next words dashed his hopes. "However, Lady Seraphina and Lady Elara have ordered me to dress you properly."
Amon sighed in defeat.
"Fine, do as you wish."
With practiced hands, the maids dressed him in formal attire. His raven-black hair was carefully curled, contrasting beautifully with his striking crimson eyes. He wore a finely tailored black ensemble adorned with crimson jewels, and in his right ear, a single red earring shimmered under the light.
By the time they finished, he looked no less than a young prince.
Once he was ready, he decided to head to his parents.
"Selene."
As soon as he spoke, the shadows in the corner of the room twisted and morphed. From the darkness, a woman emerged, her presence blending seamlessly with the void itself. Her long black hair flowed like liquid ink, and her pitch-black eyes seemed to absorb the light around them.
"Yes, Young Master?" she responded in a calm, almost indifferent tone.
"Where are Father and Mother?"
"They are in the garden with Lady Seraphina,and young miss welcoming the family members," Selene replied.
"I see." Amon hesitated for a moment before asking, "Has Grandfather arrived yet?"
"No. The ceremony will begin as soon as my Lord arrives."
Amon exhaled slowly.
"I see. Dismiss."
Without another word, Selene melted back into his shadows, vanishing as if she had never been there.
Even after all these years, he still wasn't used to that.
Shaking his head, he straightened his posture and made his way toward the garden.
"I can never get used to this "