Chapter 25 – Five Years Later
Five years have passed—
And in those five years, many things changed.
After his return, Kaden went through the second test—a test of will. But with his high stats, he passed so easily it left every Warborn speechless.
Since then, his name spread through the Stronghold like wildfire.
But no one called him Kaden anymore.
They only called him:
The Child of Blood.
A child born from blood. From death. From proof.
And once it was proven, people clung to it.
He became popular. Famous, even. But with fame?
Comes both the benefits… and the downsides.
For Kaden, there were no benefits. Not to him.
But the downsides? Too many to count.
Just like they say:
The tallest tree is always the first to be cut.
Why? Because it draws the most attention.
And the Warborns—Kaden included—drew too much.
Feared. Respected. Hated.
They were always the first to go to war. The first to defend. The first to bleed.
And that made them a problem. Because they are liked by the people.
A threat.
And to some inside the Stronghold… it was time to cut the tree down.
Every branch included.
…
Cerveau Family Estate.
"We have to take care of them," said Nuke Cerveau, fifteen years old, heir of the Cerveau family.
He stood in his father's office, face serious.
His father—Brain Cerveau—looked nearly identical. Blue hair. Blue eyes. A long white coat marked with their family crest: a blue brain threaded with lines like nerves.
Very fitting.
"And I know that," Brain said, calm and cold. "But it's not the time yet."
"I told you—patience is key when dealing with people like them."
"You can't rush. You can't confront them directly."
He looked at his son with sharp eyes.
"Because they won't run. They'll come at us in full force."
"And that would be a bother, that's not how we work."
Nuke nodded slowly. "I know. I was never planning to attack them head-on. Everyone knows what they're like."
"I just want one thing, father."
He stepped forward, leaning across the desk.
"Let me take care of the Child of Blood."
Brain raised a brow.
"Why? You feel challenged because he's the same age as you?"
Nuke didn't hesitate.
"No. No one my age is my equal."
He said it calmly. Without arrogance. Just certainty.
"I'm just interested. A boy born in blood. Surrounded by death. A legend around his birth before he even held a weapon."
"These types of people… if you let them grow—"
"—they become a problem," Brain finished with a faint smile.
He already knew. He had already planned to eliminate the boy eventually.
But hearing it from his son?
It pleased him.
'I've raised him well,' he thought.
He nodded. "Fine. Take care of him, then."
"I'll leave the matter in your hands. I won't interfere."
Then his expression changed.
His aura shifted.
Suddenly, the entire room felt heavy. Suffocating.
"But—don't disappoint me, Nuke. You hear me?"
Nuke's gaze was steady. "I won't, Father."
The pressure vanished.
"Good. You may go."
Nuke turned to leave, walking toward the door. But before he stepped out, he paused.
Still facing away, he spoke.
"I've planned a small meeting between the heirs of the three big families."
He smirked.
"I also invited the Thornspire."
"I heard their heir awakened a Legendary Origin. She qualifies."
Brain nodded, uninterested. "Do whatever you want. I only want results. Not methods."
Nuke smiled more, then stepped into the hall.
As he walked through the corridor, his voice echoed softly—cold and absolute.
"Send the letters to each of them."
An invisible voice answered.
"Understood, young master."
Nuke's eyes narrowed slightly.
'Well… this is gonna be fun.'
…
Warborn Estate – Library
Meanwhile, Kaden was seated in the Warborn family library.
Now fifteen, his features had sharpened. His voice deeper, more mature. But the eyes? Still the same—red, cold, and calm.
He wore his usual black clothes. The Warborn crest on his chest shimmered faintly.
He flipped through a book, reading in silence.
"So even beasts can enter Fokay… but only those with strong bloodlines, intelligence, and awareness."
He muttered, almost impressed.
"Quite interesting."
He had spent the last five years reading.
Books about history. The Warborn legacy. The structure of Fokay. Beasts. Bloodlines.
Everything.
He learned a lot.
But there were things he couldn't understand.
Like the first Warborn—the ancestor. Said to be the first to wield a weapon-type Origin. So powerful even the realms of Fokay and Darklore didn't dare challenge him.
And then?
He vanished.
No explanation, no trace.
It didn't make sense.
Then there were whispers—of gods and goddesses. Churches in Fokay. Families who worshipped those very gods.
"Gods, huh…"
Kaden scoffed. "Still can't wrap my head around that."
He'd even asked his father once.
But the answer was so deranged, he never wanted to think about it again.
"Everything just gets more confusing."
The world was big. Messy. Dangerous.
But he wasn't scared.
He had trained.
He hadn't died these past years—because he barely left the estate—but that didn't mean he was idle.
No.
He'd grown.
"Death. Show me my profile."
<<<<< Profile >>>>>
Name: Kaden Warborn
Age: 15
Rank: Awakened (Saturated)
Origin: Bloodsoaked Sword King (Legendary)
Title: Child of Blood
Traits: Corrosive Blood
STR: 175
AGL: 175
CONS: 190
MANA: 170
INT: 170
WILL: 190
PER: 150
Stat Points: 15
Fragments: Wolf's Instincts
Quests in Progress: None
Death Coins: 10,000
Skills:
→ Blood Reservoir [Awakened]: Every kill adds blood to your internal reservoir. Can be used as fuel for forms, weapons, or recovery.
Techniques:
→ Iron Fang Form (Rare): A foundational attack style. One strike. One kill. If you strike twice, you did it wrong.
→ Iron Step (Rare): Every step is a decision. Every shift a setup for the next kill. Move simply—but with purpose.
<<<<< End >>>>>
Kaden studied his stats, a small smile on his lips.
Five years.
Dozens of quests.
Every stat above 150.
But still…
"It's getting harder to earn skill points. Why, Death?"
[No opportunity yet.]
Simple.
The world hadn't tested him enough recently.
Kaden sighed.
Still… his Origin core was now saturated.
Meaning once he stepped into Fokay, he could immediately begin his evolution trial.
He was excited.
And nervous.
New place. New dangers. New rules.
"But the worst that can happen… is death."
He smirked.
"…And death just makes me stronger."
That thought always centered him.
He looked at the technique section.
Unlike skills, techniques weren't given by the Origin. They were created—by clans, warriors, ancestors.
And he had chosen two rare, foundational techniques. One for offense. One for movement.
Not the flashiest. Not the strongest.
But flexible, balanced and clean.
He didn't want extremes.
He wanted something he could build his style from.
"Strong offense, weak defense… never works."
"I need something solid."
He closed the screen, leaned back, and took a deep breath.
Then—
Knock knock.
"Young master Kaden. Your parents are waiting for you."
Kaden stood up, cracked his neck, and smirked.
"…Playtime's over, I guess."
—End of Chapter 25—