The chains bit deep into his flesh, rusted links soaked in ancient blood. Every drag across the obsidian path echoed like a drumbeat for the damned. Rael Xirian moved not by his will, but by the armored fists of Empire knights — cattle in gold plating pretending to be men of honor.
Overhead, the sky bled red — not from sunset, but from ritual smog belched by a thousand incense towers. The capital had dressed itself in ceremonial grief to mourn a criminal it feared too much to kill.
He looked up through blood-soaked strands of hair. Countless nobles watched from sky-balconies, whispering behind veils and enchanted masks. A few looked disgusted. Most looked relieved.
At the head of them all stood Prince Lorian, heir to the Empire's throne and the fraud who wore the title "Fated Hero." Gleaming armor. Golden hair. Eyes like polished lies.
"Rael Xirian," Lorian began, voice booming through arcane speakers, "you are hereby sentenced to eternal banishment for crimes against the Empire — bloodcraft, sacrilege, and heresy."
"You forgot envy," Rael rasped, a cruel smile bleeding through cracked lips. "Your envy, not mine."
Lorian stiffened, just slightly. Not enough for the crowd to see. But Rael saw. He always saw.
They had tried to kill him — oh, how they tried.
Blessed spears through the heart.Soul-cleaving chants.Even an execution circle drawn with phoenix ash and vampire dust.
But Rael refused to die. His body healed. His core reformed. His soul clung to life like flame to dry bone.
Because what flowed through his veins wasn't natural.
It was forbidden.
A fusion of vampire hunger, phoenix rebirth, and draconic dominion — incompatible, unstable, and feared by every priest and scholar in the Empire.
"We cannot kill him," they whispered, pale and trembling. "To do so might awaken what sleeps within him."
So they chose a cleaner death: banishment to the Blackfall Abyss — the Outlands. The graveyard of gods.
"Let the abyss swallow him. Let it erase what we cannot."
"If fate wishes him dead, it will do the work for us."
Fools.
He stopped walking at the edge. The abyss yawned before him like a god's open mouth — bottomless, dead, and whispering.
His chains clinked as the guards raised their weapons.
"No final words?" Lorian asked smugly.
Rael's eyes locked onto his, calm and cold. Not pleading. Not afraid.
"Only this…" he said softly. "You should have finished the job."
Then came the push.
The wind screamed louder than a thousand banshees as Rael plummeted. Lightning cracked in the clouds above. Magic flared and failed around him. He fell through thunder, through silence, through heat.
Then—
Impact.
His body hit solid blackglass with a sound like worlds shattering. Bones snapped. Blood splattered. His vision went white, then black.
And still… he lived.
🔥 Below the World
His body twitched. Every nerve was agony. His breath came in ragged gasps. But beneath him, something pulsed.
The ground — alive. Warm. Ancient.
The blackglass beneath his blood began to glow.
Something awoke.
Then, a sound. Not spoken. Not heard. Felt.
[SYSTEM CORE DETECTED][Trigger Event: Core Destruction + Forbidden Bloodline + Primordial Residue Exposure][Genetic Lock Broken][Primordial Villain System Activating…]
Rael's heart stuttered. His blood boiled. His core — long sealed — cracked open like an egg of molten fire.
[You have been forsaken by fate. You now consume it.][Initializing Evolution Path: God of Blood and Flame][Skill Acquired: Blood Devour (Lv. 1)][Skill Acquired: Flame Rebirth (Lv. 1)][Villain Perk Activated: Destiny Override]
Agony surged. Flames burst from his chest. Blood vaporized and reformed. His body screamed—but he welcomed it.
He rose slowly, each motion a protest of broken flesh and reborn power. Smoke curled from his skin. His eyes — one now glowing red, the other gold — reflected the abyss.
He looked at his hand. It flickered between crimson and molten flame.
He spoke, not with hatred, but with certainty.
"They thought exile was mercy."
"They thought the abyss would erase me."
"But all they did… was unseal me."
He lifted his face to the unseen heavens.
"The heroes will break."
"The heroines will kneel."
"And the Empire… will burn in blood and flame."
Above, they were already leaving, smug and secure.
Below, something monstrous — something final — had been born.