Evolution of the Ruined Heir-Chapter 20: Descendants

Malakai staggered slightly, his breath coming in ragged and fast. His heart thundered in his chest, pounding so hard it felt like it might burst from his ribcage.

He stood still, eyes fixed on the fallen creature.

'I did it.'

His thoughts were racing. He stared at the corpse, unable to believe it.

Because of the Sovereign's cruel missions, Malakai had fought multiple grade ones before. And each time, he had barely survived, left broken, bleeding, clinging to life by threads. He had to be rescued every time by the blood knight in the area.

But now... he had won.

His hand clenched tightly.

For the first time, he had won. He had fucking won!

A rush of triumph surged through him, wild and raw. He had always been called useless. A failure. A discarded tool that had no future.

But this trash... had just defeated a Grade One Darkness Creature!

Malakai felt the urge to roar into the skies, to scream at the world that he was not weak. Not useless.

But his sanity held him back.

'There could be more in this forest.'

His gaze turned sharp again, caution flooding in.

He yanked his scythe's blade free from the creature's skull. The beast didn't dissolve or vanish, it remained, lifeless and solid. Once formed, darkness creatures became living beings.

But then, greenish energy surged from the beast's corpse. A cloud of vita drifted into the air.

A moment later, it flowed into Malakai's body.

A surge of energy flared inside him, then vanished just as quickly.

'Still nothing.'

This was normal. Any time a Grade One or higher darkness creature died, it released vita into the air. The killer absorbed it and grew stronger, rising in power and rank.

But Malakai's body couldn't hold vita.

'The core...'

Every Grade One and above darkness creature had a core, an orb of solidified vita within it. But Malakai didn't have time to dig it out. He wiped the ichor from his blade and turned away.

'I have to leave this clearing. It's too exposed.'

His body still ached, but he forced himself into a sprint, rushing toward the tree line for cover.

But he had barely even gotten anywhere before a low tremor rumbled through the world. Malakai's entire body stopped, his instincts screaming.

A voice echoed, calm and omnipresent. From everywhere and nowhere at once.

"Last participant confirmed. The selection for the next successor will begin now."

Malakai's pupils shrank into pinpricks.

'That voice... again.'

The same one from the desert. The same one that had told him to walk. He could never forget it.

'What's happening?'

His gaze darted around. His eyes locked on the spot where the creature's corpse had been, now gone. Completely vanished.

And then, light.

Multiple beams of radiant light exploded across the clearing, surrounding him. Malakai's hands clenched tightly around his weapon, eyes narrowing.

The lights flashed, then faded.

And in their place were... people.

Dozens of youths had appeared as if from nowhere. Dressed in varying battle attire, some regal, others rugged.

Each carried an air of pride and strength. And they were... pissed.

"Where are the Elders?!"

"What just happened?! Where did the body of the darkness creature go?!"

"Get me out of this damned place! Do you know who my father is?!"

"I passed the trial! I demand the right to leave this place!"

"I just killed the creature! Who dared steal my glory?!"

"If this is another test, someone's going to regret it."

Malakai stood silently as their voices echoed across the clearing, his expression calm.

He didn't move toward them, he moved away. Quietly. Carefully. Shifting toward the edge of the clearing, where the forest was directly behind him.

'They were teleported here.'

Observation and comprehension had always been two of Malakai's strongest traits. He didn't just look, he observed. He heard everything. Understood everything.

The youths were disoriented. Confused. Their words gave him enough context to make a frighteningly accurate assessment.

'They went through the same trials I did.'

His mind moved fast, processing information. He'd chosen to move to the edge of the clearing for a reason, rather than stay in the center surrounded by unknown elements, potentially hostile individuals, he now stood where escape into the forest would be immediate if necessary.

Then, his gaze sharpened.

'I'm being watched.'

He could feel it, subtle, probing gazes. Not many, but enough to trigger his instincts.

His eyes flicked across the field, locking onto a few figures scattered among the crowd, youths who had taken notice of him already.

'My clothes and gear.'

It clicked instantly.

He had already formed multiple theories, but this one had begun solidifying in his mind.

Their eyes weren't on him just because he was a stranger.

It was because he looked different.

Their battle gear was crude, leather, steel plating, belts made of braided hide. Their weapons, though they looked sturdy, had outdated craftsmanship.

Their boots, their scabbards, even their belts, everything screamed primitive and the past. It was the kind of gear that would have been made in a time when humanity had barely started rebuilding after the respite the dome offered.

And as a plus, the youths had the distinct features of the grand and great families of the Dome. And yet, they looked like relics from the past.

The most uptodate nove𝙡s are published on frёewebnoѵel.ƈo๓.

'They're the descendants who disappeared centuries ago...'

It sounded like a fairy tale, but everything pointed to it. The impossible was slowly becoming reality. And in contrast, Malakai, with his reinforced attire, his high-grade utility belt, his refined weaponry, stood out like a flame in a cave.

But it wasn't just his gear that was drawing attention.

"You."

The voice was sharp.

Malakai's head snapped toward the sound, his guard instantly rising.

"Who are you?"

He didn't make any sudden moves, but his hand shifted slightly, instinctively, toward the gun strapped to his waist.

A movement the speaker caught instantly.

Malakai gave the youths a quick scan. Crimson eyes that burned like coals. Crimson hair like living flame. His face was like an early teen, but there was weight in his posture. He stood like one used to command.

"I am Zeronis Von Sanguine, son of Jeranis Von Sanguine and the 3rd Vein of the Sanguine Clan. Only selected descendants are allowed into the Pit. So I'll ask again, who are you?"