Chapter 174: Bloodline Awakening
The pain bled away.
One breath, he was choking on his own blood, the stone cold against his face, the weight of three enemies pressing him into the dirt. The next—silence. No fire, no steel, no shouts of war. Just silence.
Karl opened his eyes.
There was nothing. A void stretched around him, endless and still, blacker than the deepest night. Yet it wasn’t empty. A faint shimmer hung in the air, drifting like dust caught in invisible light. Each particle burned faint red, as if embers floated in the dark.
He tried to move, but his body felt heavy, sluggish, as though he’d been buried under mountains. He looked down—his wounds were still there. His chest torn, his arms split, blood dripping freely, but it fell into nothing and vanished before it touched the void.
Karl spat, his voice ragged. "So this is it? Death?" He laughed once, bitter. "Figures. Not even flames to greet me. Just emptiness."
The void trembled.
Low, distant at first. A rumble that wasn’t sound but something deeper, rolling through the marrow of his bones. Karl froze, his grin faltering. The embers in the air stirred, drawn together, twisting into a spiral.
Then it came.
A shadow in the void, vast beyond reason, its outline stretching further than his eyes could follow. Scales shimmered faint red, cracked with molten light, like rivers of fire trapped beneath armor. Wings unfolded slow, blotting the stars that weren’t there. Eyes opened last—two suns burning molten gold, searing through the darkness.
Karl’s breath caught in his throat. For once, words failed him.
The voice that followed wasn’t spoken. It was everywhere. Inside his skull. Inside his blood.
"You are late."
The weight of it nearly drove him to his knees. His claws trembled, his body shaking not from pain but from the sheer force of presence. He spat again, forcing his grin back, even through the shiver crawling up his spine. "And you are... what? Another nightmare? Another trick?"
The dragon leaned closer. Each movement bent the void, each exhale spilling heat that cracked the nothing around them.
"I am not a trick, Karl. I am your blood. Your ancestor. The first flame that ever burned in your line."
Karl’s smirk faltered, his jaw tightening. "Ancestor? Don’t spit riddles. I don’t need ghosts telling me bedtime stories."
The dragon’s eyes narrowed, molten rivers shifting inside their gaze. "Do you think your fire is yours alone? Do you think a castoff, abandoned and broken, clawed his way to Gamma rank by chance? No. You carry me in every breath you draw. My blood runs in you, though you have wasted it on rage."
Karl’s chest heaved. His fists clenched, flames sparking faint around his claws even here. "So what? You show up now? After everything? Where were you when Kael took her? When father spit me out like garbage? Where was this ’bloodline’ then?"
The dragon’s growl shook the void. "Your flame was sealed. Caged, because your father feared it. He knew what you carried. He knew if you awakened, his throne would turn to ash. So he cast you out, hoping the world would bury you before the blood remembered itself."
Karl’s grin was gone now. His eyes burned sharp, veins of fire crawling faint across his neck. "You’re saying he knew."
"He knew." The dragon’s breath rolled hot, searing. "And your brother—he was raised to stand against you. To snuff your flame before it could awaken. That is why he took her. That is why he broke your home. Not just cruelty. Not just envy. Purpose."
Karl staggered back a step, his flames guttering, his chest tight. Rage twisted in him, not wild this time but sharp, cutting. His fists shook. "Then I’ll kill them all. Father. Brother. Every last one who stood by while I burned alone."
The dragon’s head lowered, its molten eyes locking with his. "Then awaken. Cast aside the ember you cling to. Claim the fire that was always yours."
Karl swallowed, his throat raw. His grin returned, but it was thin, strained, more snarl than smirk. "And if I can’t?"
"Then you die here. Forgotten, as they wanted."
The embers in the void swirled faster, drawn toward him. They cut into his skin, searing, each particle carving fire into his veins. Karl screamed, his voice tearing out of him, flames erupting from his chest. His wounds split wider, his blood igniting midair.
The dragon’s voice thundered. "Do not resist. Let it consume you."
Karl fell to his knees, clawing at his chest as fire raced through him. It wasn’t the wild blaze he had always carried—it was deeper, heavier, like molten rivers tearing him apart and rebuilding him in the same breath. His vision blurred red, his bones cracked, his skin split open with searing light.
"Burn," the dragon whispered.
Karl roared.
His body erupted. Scales burst across his arms, black edged in molten gold. His claws lengthened, glowing like blades fresh from a forge. His back split, wings unfurling in streaks of flame and shadow. His eyes snapped open, blazing molten red-gold, brighter than any fire he had carried before.
The void shook. The dragon raised its head, gaze fierce. "Now you know. You are no castoff. No failure. You are my heir. The last flame of a bloodline older than your King, older than his throne. Rise, Karl."
Karl stood, his breath ragged but steady, his body burning with power that felt endless. He looked down at his claws, fire swirling along the scales. A grin spread across his face, sharp, savage, real.
"Now this," he growled, his voice layered with flame, "this feels right."
The dragon’s form began to fade, embers drifting back into the void. Its voice lingered, heavy and final. "Go. Burn their lies. Burn their thrones. The world will know the blood you carry."
The void cracked.
Karl’s body jolted. He gasped, sucking in air thick with smoke and blood. The broken street was back beneath him. His body was whole, but not the same—scales glowed across his arms, his eyes burned molten red-gold, wings of flame spread wide behind him.
The wolf, the serpent, the boar froze, their eyes wide with fear.
Karl lifted his head, blood dripping from his grin. "Round two."
And the fire roared back to life.