The Crest of Ruin

Lucien stopped in the middle of the hallway.

A sharp pulse hit his chest—again. His hands clenched slightly as sweat started forming along his temples.

"Not now," he muttered under his breath, jaw tightening.

His mana, which was already drained from the battle, started to stir uncontrollably again. He could feel the artifact's presence under his robe—right where that damn necklace always sat, feeding off him like some parasite

Lucian rushed to his room and shut the door behind him with more force than he meant to. His palm hovered near his chest again, where the pulse of that damn necklace wouldn't quit.

It wasn't just pain — it was pressure. Pressure from something inside him that felt like it was constantly trying to twist him open. Not enough to kill him, just enough to mess him up. And it always came when he was tired.

He leaned forward on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees.

"Shit," he muttered.

That surge again. That creeping pulse that made his mana feel like it was being pulled sideways.

He hated this thing."But he couldn't throw it away because now matter how he tried he couldn't take it off"

"He sighed and frustately thought"

"Without this, I wouldn't be at the level I am. And with it, I might not live long enough to use that level. Haha...Great."

A soft movement — a quiet step — made him turn slightly. Elias had entered silently and stood there watching him with a concerned look.

"Young Master?" Elias asked.

Lucien straightened up like nothing was wrong. "I'm fine. Just tired. Bring me a high recovery potion and a mana stabilizer. Now."

Elias bowed and disappeared again, leaving Lucien in the dim room.

He pulled off the upper half of his uniform and tossed it onto the chair. Bruises lined his side, some still fresh. The ache was dull now, but it wouldn't last. The potion would help.

But the mana was the bigger issue.

This artifact... this Crest of Ruin or whatever it is... it's giving me power.I'm growing stronger faster than I should. But every time it helps me... it tries to eat a part of me too.Like it wants to take something in return.

Lucien clenched his jaw.

"I'm not giving it anything. Damn artifact."

There was a knock. Elias knelt beside him, placing two potions on the floor. One shimmered crimson-gold, the other a cool violet.

Lucien picked up the red-gold one first — the recovery potion.

High-grade, obviously. He didn't mess around with low-tier crap. This stuff could rebuild bone in minutes and dull pain like it never existed. Expensive, yes, but worth it.

[High-Grade Recovery Potion –Brewed from the Bloodroot Bloom and aether sap. Capable of restoring nearly 80% of physical injuries and internal damage within minutes. Rare and costly—usually reserved for dukes, high-circle mages, or elite knights.]

He drank it. Bitter as hell. His fingers twitched slightly as warmth spread down his arms and into his gut.

Next, the violet bottle.

Mana Stabilizer. After channeling unstable energy like that… it was either drink this, or risk snapping a mana vein.

[Mana Stabilizing Potion –A potion that aligns disordered mana circuits and cools internal mana storms caused by battle strain, potion backlash, or excessive casting. Essential for any mage working beyond their limits.Consuming too many in short intervals, however, could lead to mana rigidity—a known risk among combat mages.]

He swallowed it without a word. This one was colder, creeping up his spine and chilling the overworked circuits just under his skin. His breathing evened out.

Finally, silence.

He sat still for a few minutes, eyes closed, letting the tension fall off his shoulders bit by bit.

Then he opened his eyes again.

"Not good enough."

It wasn't self-hate. It wasn't whining. It was just the truth.

"I need to get stronger, fast."

He stood, tied the necklace tighter under his shirt, and cracked his knuckles.

The next fight wasn't going to wait.

Soon enough it was evening and it was time for the celebratory banquet

As Lucien made his way down the velvet-carpeted corridor, a sudden gust of laughter echoed lightly.

He turned—

And there she was.

Aria Velentis, in a soft lilac dress stitched with moonlight threads, her silver hair cascading in waves. Tiny gemstone butterflies fluttered on her braid, and her violet eyes sparkled like polished amethysts.

She beamed when she saw him. "Brother!"

Lucien couldn't help it. His pace slowed, and the corner of his lips tugged—just slightly.

Aria turned nine this spring… and yet every time I see her, I feel like the Empire should kneel. If beauty had a future empress, it would be her. As her brother, it's only natural I shred any rat bastard who even breathes near her.

He gently patted her head, fixing a loose strand.

"You look... cute Aria"

Aria puffed her cheeks. "Hmph. Not 'cute.' I'm elegant, Brother, Lady Ellen said so."

On this Lucian gave a teasing laugh and said" Yeah..yeah, My lady...you look really elegant"

She giggled, grabbing his sleeve. "Let's go together!"

Lucien nodded, and the two of them walked side by side down the marbled corridor, the golden lights from the chandeliers above shimmering across the walls.

The grand banquet hall of House Velentis was glowing with golden light. Crystal chandeliers hung like constellations in the night, casting shimmering reflections across the polished obsidian floors. Noble guests filled the hall—vassal family heads, their spouses, and the young participants of the Selection Trial, all dressed in their finest. Laughter and murmurs swirled through the air like invisible perfume.

Two mages in Veletin formal uniform stepped to the center and announced with a booming voice,"We now welcome the esteemed heir of House Velentis—Young Master Lucien Velentis and the Moon of House Velentis— Young Miss Aria Velentis!"

As Lucien entered in flowing black mage robes embroidered with violet thread, the hall quieted. His black hair gleamed under the chandeliers, and his piercing purple eyes swept across the crowd. At his side was his younger sister Aria, dressed in an elegant, silvery-lavender gown that sparkled with moonlight threads

She held his arm cheerfully."Brother, everyone is looking at us!" she whispered, giggling.

Lucien smirked. "Let them."

As the two siblings made their way to the elevated table, nobles bowed with grace. Murmurs buzzed behind lace fans.

"That's the Duke's daughter?""She's like a living doll…""And Young master Lucien—he's grown into something terrifyingly composed for his age."

The soft clink of glasses and polite conversation filled the grand banquet hall, gold chandeliers casting warm light on polished obsidian floors. Laughter floated gently between the nobles and vassals — until the hall doors opened.

And just like that — silence.

Every spine straightened instinctively.

Duke Kael Velentis stepped inside.

Tall, Composed and Impossibly commanding.

He wore a long black formal robe with deep violet lining, the silver crest of Velentis stitched over the chest in elegant threadwork. His presence alone bent the air — sharp as a blade yet calm as still water. His hair, raven-dark, was slicked back without flaw. His violet eyes — striking and unreadable — swept over the crowd like he already knew every face, every thought, every secret.

He didn't smile and was carrying a heavy aura around him which made people look up to him

He simply walked.

Every step echoed — not loud, but heavy — like his existence weighed more than the rest of the room.

No one had to be told" They bowed".

First the vassal heads. Then the noble families. Even the more prideful ones lowered their heads — not out of etiquette, but instinct.

A few younger nobles sneaked glances at him, only to instantly avert their eyes when met with that freezing gaze. That gaze wasn't angry. It wasn't even particularly harsh.

It was just… absolute.

Lucien stood quietly beside Aria, eyes steady as he met his father's gaze. He bowed they both gave each other a satisfied.

Kael's eyes lingered for a breath, then moved on.

Aria beamed, unbothered by the weight of the room. She gave a cheerful wave — "Father~!"

Kael's expression didn't shift much. But something subtle, just at the edge of his lips, suggested he heard her.

He reached the head of the banquet hall. No words. He turned slightly — and only then did the mages step forward and announce:

"His Grace, Duke Kael Velentis."

Kael raised a single hand.

Everyone rose, murmurs beginning to swirl again like wind returning after a storm had passed.

He sat — back straight, eyes calm — and the pressure finally loosened.