Sovereign Ascendent: Bloodline Unleashed

Crimson Sky Academy's main training ground stretched over several kilometers—an arena forged in reinforced alloy, spellsteel, and protective barrier wards. It was built to contain even the wildest outbursts of bloodline awakenings, beast transformations, and large-scale simulated war games. For the average student, it was a terrifying field of growth and pain. For Su Mengtian, it became the proving ground—where discipline and instinct, honed in another life, reemerged in full force.

Three days had passed since the Bloodline Awakening Ceremony.

Despite the eruption of his War Dragon manifestation—a sight of thunder, power, and controlled destruction—Su Mengtian had returned to obscurity. His manifestation had been brief and controlled. He had purposefully kept its display to a minimum, and by the time the shock faded, no visible marks of his aura remained.

Among the thousand-plus new students, only whispers lingered. Even Yueying, stationed in a different advanced combat class, had only glanced his way once during the communal meals. He had noticed—but remained silent. He wasn't ready to reach out.

Not yet.

And that was exactly how Mengtian wanted it.

He stood at the edge of the training grounds, facing his assigned sparring group: ten students, all first-class bloodline holders, hand-picked to test combat efficiency.

His combat instructor, a broad-shouldered woman with half her face scarred and a red wyvern tattoo coiling down her neck, barked out, "Begin the evaluation! Su Mengtian versus Group A!"

The students didn't hesitate. Most had heard about the mysterious War Dragon bloodline. This was their chance to prove themselves—and maybe, just maybe, take down the silent anomaly before he became a true rival.

The first attacker, a boar-kin student with reinforced bones and tusk protrusions, charged with brute force. His fists shattered the stone tile beneath him as he lunged, massive and clumsy, but fast.

Su Mengtian didn't move.

Until the last second.

A step to the left. His elbow struck the boar-kin's throat with surgical precision. The student crumpled before fully realizing what had happened.

The second and third came in tandem. One with a flame-imbued blade dancing in his grip, the other manipulating razor-sharp wind crescents with a flick of her fingers.

Mengtian flowed between them like water made flesh.

He crouched low, letting the sword pass overhead, and swept his leg in a perfect arc, catching the wind user across the ribs. She flew back with a soft gasp and didn't get up.

The flame wielder barely had time to react before Mengtian twisted his arm behind him, kicked his knee out from under him, and planted him face-first into the ground.

More came. With speed, with technique, with bloodline-enhanced strength.

It didn't matter.

Every step Mengtian took was calculated. Every motion efficient. He didn't strike with power; he struck with purpose. He used the terrain, their momentum, their hesitation.

He saw openings a heartbeat before they existed.

Ten students. Ten defeats.

Within minutes, Mengtian stood alone. Not a scratch on him.

The instructor stared at him, eyes unreadable. Then she muttered, "Next group."

But none stepped forward.

Word spread like wildfire.

"Did you hear about the War Dragon guy? Took out a full team solo.

"He didn't even use a bloodline ability!"

"No aura flares, no beast transformations... just pure combat mastery."

"He fights like a war veteran. Who even is he?"

By the fourth day, whispers followed Su Mengtian wherever he walked. Some called him The Silent Storm. Others gave him a wider berth.

But the true shift came from the academy's iinstructors, Crimson Sky's combat director, Lord Yunxu—a man known for training the elite champions of the Imperial Beast Tournament—watched Mengtian's combat recordings in silence. His sharp eyes narrowed as he rewound the footage again and again.

"No bloodline outburst... no resonance... only suppression, evasion, and dismantling."

His assistant, Ruo Jian, spoke carefully. "Should we check his lineage? Maybe he's a hidden heir."

"No. Let him evolve on his own," Yunxu replied. "He's hiding something, but not out of fear. Out of strategy. I want to see what he does when we push."

Back in the dorms, Su Mengtian knelt beneath a waterfall in the cultivation zone.

The water, enchanted with elemental pressure, crushed the body like thousands of tons. Most students could endure it for ten minutes.

Mengtian had sat for three hours.

His body screamed. Muscles twitched. But his eyes remained closed, his mind elsewhere.

Inside him, the unknown force stirred.

The second bloodline.

It didn't speak. It didn't show itself.

But it pulsed. Every challenge brought it closer to the surface.

He didn't know its name.

He didn't want to know it yet.

Because he understood something most in this world did not.

A name holds power.

And once he knew its name, he could no longer hide it.

So he waited.

His nights were not restful.

Dreams of battles. Of shouting men and thunderous artillery. Of comrades bleeding on forgotten battlefields.

He remembered every soldier under his command. Their names, their regrets.

He remembered Yueying—her hair soaked in rain, her body glowing with fading life as she fell in his arms. Her last words still echoed.

"Live again. Please... live."

And he had.

Now, he would build something greater.

Not an army—but a family. An unshakable organization.

He began to plan in earnest.

Experimental Nine halls,

Hall of Shadows – Intelligence and Espionage.

Hall of Fang – Elite Combat Units.

Hall of Tides – Strategic Command.

Hall of Healing – Medicine and Recovery.

Hall of Scales – Beast Research and Taming.

Hall of Storms – Dimensional Defense.

Hall of Roots – Resource Collection and Management.

Hall of Threads – Communication and Networking.

Hall of Embers – Logistics, Training, and Discipline.

Each would be manned by specialists he would handpick.

Each one a pillar of his new reign.

He was no longer the foot soldier or mercenary. Not anymore.

He would be the Commander.

And this would be his Reign.

That night, beneath the stars, he opened a hidden terminal embedded in his student bracelet—unauthorized tech he had assembled over weeks.

A holographic interface bloomed to life.

One by one, files loaded. Background checks. Combat evaluations. Personality assessments. He had quietly begun observing his peers, evaluating potential candidates for the nine halls.

A beast-tamer with an unstable core but rare affinity with shadow serpents. A healer-in-training who hid her true ability—biological regeneration on a cellular level. A twin pair of brothers whose synchronized combat dance had dismantled a third-year group challenge.

He wasn't just surviving the academy. He was scouting it.

Because Su Mengtian knew the truth:

Before you build an empire, you gather your generals.