Kael looked down, nostalgia softening his features.
She missed my birthday. I missed my birthday.
So that's what she meant.
If only she were here. If only they hadn't attacked.
That was why he had to get stronger. The awakening—it sounded promising. Maybe it had given him a boost. He certainly felt stronger… though also strangely numb.
"Happy birthday, kid," Nyric said, walking over with open arms.
Kael ducked the hug, stepping aside.
"Thanks—but you really need a bath. I tolerated it before, but not anymore." He pinched his nose with two fingers, grimacing.
Nyric raised an eyebrow, then sniffed his tunic.
"Gods, I really do stink."
He'd been gone for three days, holed up in one of the caves, absorbing the essence crystal. After all the fights, he hadn't bathed once.
"What else did you expect?" Thorne said from the side, eyeing him with clear disgust. "Now leave before I kick you out."
Nyric turned to Kael, silently pleading for support.
Kael just gave him a tired wave.
Groaning, Nyric slumped and trudged out of the room.
As he left, Kael's gaze dropped to his clenched fist.
"Tell me more about this awakening," he muttered.
"Your blood awakened on your seventeenth birthday," Thorne said. "That's typical for your clan."
Kael frowned. "My clan?"
"The Asvaran clan," Thorne clarified after a pause.
Asvaran... The word felt foreign on his tongue. "Never heard of them."
"You wouldn't have. Long ago, your clan was the strongest. But after the clan leader died, the kingdoms—driven by fear and greed—banded together and destroyed them. The survivors went into hiding, living like ordinary people, denying their blood just to stay alive."
Kael absorbed that in silence. Then: "Doesn't matter."
"What matters," he said, voice low, "is the awakening."
Thorne nodded. "It strengthens your body. Right now, your skin's as tough as an Ironhide Makral's."
Kael raised an eyebrow. "And that is…?"
"A beast covered in black armor-like scales," Thorne replied, smiling faintly. "Its hide can deflect blades and arrows. A full-force punch from a mid-level vein-bound wouldn't even scratch it."
Kael's eyes widened. He'd seen Nyric tear through a gryphon's hide with brute force. And something like that... wouldn't even dent him?
A powerful boon.
But someone like Nyric could still kill me if he tried. It's great… just not enough.
His mood soured again.
"It improves as you grow," Thorne added, reading his thoughts. "Your healing, strength, stamina, reflexes—they all increase beyond normal."
"So... like the Crimson Vein practitioners?" Kael asked.
"Yes, similar," Thorne said. "But your power is noble. Natural. Not stolen or spliced into your veins. You won't lose yourself to a beast's instincts."
He smirked.
"And you won't have to transform into some grotesque monster to use it."
Kael's brow furrowed. "If they were so strong, with that kind of advantage… then how were they wiped out?"
"They had to enlist Codex users," Thorne replied, his expression darkening.
"Codex?" Kael echoed.
"Right. Most don't know about them anymore," Thorne said with a cough. "A Codex—more formally, the God-Fist Codex—is a technique derived from the dead gods."
Kael's face tightened. He rubbed his chin, thoughtful.
When he looked back up, Thorne continued.
"These techniques are embedded in crystals saturated with divine essence—or etched into god-bones. But they're hidden. Only those with special abilities or... experiences can see them."
Kael's eyes narrowed. "And this Codex kingdom—what, they hoard the skills? Hunt anyone who's not one of them?"
"Exactly." Thorne nodded. "They believe they were chosen by the gods."
"Even though the gods are dead?" Kael said, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "And the other kingdoms just let that slide?"
"They have the largest stockpile of Codexes," Thorne said. "And they survived the subjugation process more than others."
He leaned in.
"Codexes have a high mortality rate most especially during subjugation. Learning one reshapes your veinfire paths to mirror a god's. You gain their techniques—but your soul corrodes in the process."
Kael almost asked how a dead god could still corrupt someone—but Thorne didn't stop.
"The Asvaran Clan couldn't stand against the combined force of the kingdoms and the Codex Dominion," Thorne said grimly.
Kael let that settle. "You mentioned greed. That all sounds like fear."
Thorne's voice sharpened. "Their lands were rich—fertile, full of cultivation resources. And their bloodline carried ancient power. But more than that..."
He paused.
"They held the first gods' Codex. And the kingdoms couldn't resist."
Kael's eyes widened. Thorne gave a dark chuckle.
"But they never got it. Your mother had it. And she passed it on... to you."
"What?" Kael blinked. "I don't remem—"
He stopped. A half-formed memory stirred. His mother, hands shaking, shoving something into his tunic as she died. One of the scrolls had been silver.
His gaze dropped to the scroll in Thorne's hand.
Silver.
"Is that...?" he asked quietly.
"Yes," Thorne said. "The Codex."
Kael took it slowly. As he unrolled it, faint silver light shimmered over strange, unreadable characters. They pulsed—softly, like breath.
"This is it?" he said, skeptical. "It looks... ordinary."
"It's special," Thorne said. "And it's a shortcut to power—if you're willing."
Shortcut, Kael thought. That's what worries me. But why did Mother give it to me?
He glanced at Thorne, then back to the glowing script.
"Why didn't she use it?"
"The Asvaran were proud," Thorne said with a shrug. "They believed in their own strength. Treated the Codex like a trophy—something beneath them."
Kael's brow twitched.
Power like this, treated like a trinket? Insanity.
Still... their pride hadn't saved them.
I need power, he thought. Bloodline alone won't be enough. Even they fell.
His grip tightened on the scroll.
"All right," he said quietly. "How do I learn it?"
Thorne smiled—softly.
"Well, young master. It's simple, really."
He stepped closer.
"You just have to fight a god. Subjugate him, actually."