Opening Lines:
To be born into greatness is a curse. To be born into a family of demigods as the only mortal? That's a death sentence.
My name is Bharath, the first and only male ever born into the Raj family—a lineage of legendary, all-powerful female hunters. For centuries, the Raj bloodline has produced S-class women, warriors who could rip through dungeons, slay monsters, and single-handedly hold back calamities. They were admired, feared, and worshipped as demigods.
And then I was born.
A boy. A mistake. A cosmic error so embarrassing that my mother, the great Seraphina Raj, personally tried to fix it.
By drowning me.
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*The Raj Family: One of the Seven Founding Clans*
The Raj family was one of the seven founding clans, each tied to one of the seven sins. The Raj family embodied Lust, though their interpretation of it was far from what outsiders might expect. To them, Lust was not about desire but about control—control over life, over power, and over the very essence of humanity.
Men in the Raj family were not just rare; they were an abomination. The few males born into the family were immediately labeled as laborers, their lives worth less than the dirt beneath the women's feet. Any slight mistake—a misstep, a wrong word, even a glance in the wrong direction—was met with swift execution. The women of the Raj family saw men as filth, as tools to be used and discarded.
The highest position a man could achieve in the Raj family was that of a Seedbearer. Seedbearers were genetically enhanced men, chosen for their physical traits and used solely for breeding. They were kept in sterile chambers, their lives reduced to a single purpose: to produce offspring. Even then, they were treated as less than human, their existence a necessary evil in the eyes of the women.
And then there was me.
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*Bharath's Birth: A Twin's Curse*
I was born a twin. My sister, Selene Raj, came into the world screaming, her tiny fists clenched like she was already ready to fight. I came into the world silent, my existence a whisper in the shadow of her roar.
From the moment I was born, my mother saw me as a stain on Selene's purity. She believed that only by killing me could Selene remain untainted, her power unbroken. And so, she tried. Over and over again.
The first time, she drowned me in the sacred bath. The second time, she left me in the cold, hoping the night would take me. The third time, she handed me to one of the laborers, instructing them to "dispose of the mistake."
But each time, my grandmother intervened.
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*The Grandmother's Unnatural Mercy*
My grandmother, Morgana Raj, was a woman of contradictions. She was the matriarch of the family, a woman who had spent her life upholding the family's values and traditions. She despised men more than anyone, yet it was she who saved me time and time again.
Whenever my mother tried to kill me, my grandmother would say the same thing: "He was born a twin. Perhaps he has the thing. We must be loyal to the Mother. We must fulfill our duty."
I never understood what she meant by "the thing" or who "the Mother" was. All I knew was that I was different. That they wouldn't kill me like the other men. That, for some reason, I was worth keeping alive.
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*Bharath's Childhood: A Life of Suffering*
Growing up in the Raj family was a nightmare. I was the weakest of the weak, a boy in a world where men were nothing. My sisters trained from the moment they could walk, their bodies honed into weapons of destruction. I, on the other hand, was barely allowed to leave my room.
My mother ignored me. My sisters mocked me. And when they got bored, they hurt me.
"You're a disgrace to our bloodline," my mother would say, her voice cold and unfeeling. "You were never meant to be born."
I tried to escape once. I thought if I could just get out of the sect, if I could just show the world that I existed, things would change. But I was wrong.
---
*The Betrayal: Selene Takes My Identity*
When I revealed my identity to the outside world, the news spread like wildfire. The first male born into the Raj family? It was unheard of. Unthinkable.
But instead of freedom, I found chains. The family locked me away, hiding me from the world. And then they did the unthinkable.
They gave my identity to Selene.
My twin sister, who looked so much like me that even I sometimes doubted who I was, became me. She took my name, my face, and my story. She became the first S-rank male, a symbol of hope for men everywhere. And I? I became a ghost, a shadow lurking in the depths of the Raj family's fortress.
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*The Trial Dungeon: A Death Sentence*
And now, on my 18th birthday, my mother has decided to finally be rid of me.
"Congratulations, Bharath," she says, her voice dripping with mockery. "You have been selected for the Raj Family's Trial."
The Trial is an ancient tradition, a rite of passage for every Raj woman. Survive the S-class dungeon, and you prove your worth. Die, and you're forgotten.
But I'm not a woman. I'm an E-rank man, weaker than the weakest of my sisters. Sending me into the Trial isn't just a death sentence—it's a statement.
"Are you seriously sending me into an S-class dungeon?" I ask, my voice trembling. "That's murder."
"No, Bharath," my mother replies, her eyes cold and unfeeling. "That's tradition."
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*The Dungeon: A Living Nightmare*
The dungeon is a hellscape. The air is thick with the stench of blood and decay. The walls are lined with jagged stones, their surfaces slick with moisture. The only light comes from glowing fungi that cling to the ceiling, casting an eerie green glow over everything.
I am not given a weapon. The women of the family are allowed to choose their arms—swords, bows, daggers—but I am sent in empty-handed. My only weapon is a crude knife I fashioned during my days in captivity, its blade dull and rusted.
The first wave of monsters attacks almost immediately. Goblins. Female goblins. They are small but vicious, their eyes gleaming with malice. They are not here to kill me. They are here to breed.
I fight back as best I can, my knife slashing wildly. I manage to take down a few, but there are too many. They overwhelm me, their claws tearing into my flesh. I scream, my voice echoing through the dungeon.
Just as I'm about to give up, I see it. A pillar stone, ancient and worn, covered in unreadable inscriptions. One phrase, however, is clear enough to understand:
"Power belongs to those who take it."
My vision blurs. The goblins aren't stopping. My body refuses to move.
Then a voice speaks.
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To Be Continued…