Chapter 6 I AM ONLY JUST BEGINNING

"How did you find me?” Seokga demanded, his voice low and edged with steel despite the frailty of his mortal frame.

Kael’s cruel smile widened, the Tome of Vein Resonance held casually in one hand. “I have eyes and ears everywhere, little cripple. Quick thinking, sneaking down here with your pretty attendant. But you’re pathetic. Did you really believe you could steal power right under my nose?”

“Give me the book,” Seokga said coldly, stepping forward.

Kael laughed, a dark, sadistic sound that echoed off the crypt walls. “Come and get it, worm. Or are you going to hide behind your mother’s skirts again?”

Esmond moved like a shadow, blade drawn in a fluid arc. The usually roguish attendant revealed surprising skill—his strikes precise and laced with swift, flowing qi that forced Kael to parry with real effort. “You talk too much for someone hiding behind three bodies,” Esmond growled.

The fight ignited in the cramped, dust-choked library.

Kael retaliated with raw brutality, his fists glowing crimson as he unleashed the Crimson Serpent Strike—a technique that sent coiling, whip-like qi serpents lashing outward. One slammed into a shelf, splintering ancient wood and sending jade slips flying like shrapnel. “Pathetic lapdog! Your blade is as dull as your master’s veins!”

Seokga circled with calculated cunning, using the chaos to his advantage. He scooped a handful of dust and scattered it into Kael’s face mid-swing, then darted low to strike at the pressure points along the elder’s arm. His fingers connected with a sharp crack, momentarily numbing Kael’s grip on the tome. For a fleeting second, the book nearly slipped free.

Esmond pressed the opening, his blade singing through the air in a series of rapid thrusts that forced Kael backward. The attendant’s movements were graceful yet lethal, revealing training far beyond a simple servant.

Kael snarled, shaking off the numbness. “You dare touch me?” He roared and activated a stronger technique—Serpent’s Wrath Coil—summoning thick, constricting bands of crimson qi that whipped around Esmond’s legs, threatening to crush bone.

Just as Seokga’s fingers brushed the tome’s edge in a desperate lunge, a ripple of shadow tore through the air behind them.

“Looking for this?” a calm, calculating voice cut in.

Draven materialized from nothingness, his hand snatching the book with ghostly speed. Thorne appeared beside him an instant later, his flamboyant grin wide and mocking.

The three stepbrothers now formed a united front, their presence oppressive in the dim crypt.

Seokga’s eyes narrowed sharply. In the flickering glow of the moss lights, he saw it clearly—serpent-like veins pulsing faintly in their eyes, glowing with an unnatural crimson hue that twisted and writhed like living shadows. His suspicion was right. There was something darker in them, something corrupt and inhuman. If only he could prove it, half this war would be over before it even started.

In a surge of raw anger, Seokga lunged. “You bastards—”

The combat exploded in earnest.

Kael laughed darkly, serpent veins flaring brighter. “Look at the cripple trying to bite! Your veins are blocked tighter than a virgin’s legs. What makes you think you can touch us?”

Draven countered with cold precision, vanishing and reappearing to strike from blind angles. “Pathetic. You scramble for scraps while we were born for power. Stay down where you belong.”

Thorne danced forward with flashy arrogance, his strikes dazzling and overwhelming as he hurled bursts of radiant qi. “Come now, little brother! Dance with us! Or are you too weak even for that?”

Seokga and Esmond fought desperately, outnumbered and at a severe disadvantage. Seokga relied on dirty tricks and divine-honed instincts—kicking over a shelf to create obstacles, using Esmond’s blade clashes as cover to land stinging palm strikes. Esmond’s skilled swordplay kept the twins at bay for precious moments, his qi flaring in defensive arcs.

But the three moved with eerie, synchronized harmony. Kael’s brutal Crimson Serpent Strike forced them back. Draven’s teleporting feints left bleeding cuts. Thorne’s overwhelming bursts dazzled and battered.

Then Thorne drew a sleek qi arrow, infused with dark energy. “Time to end this farce.” He loosed it with a mocking laugh. The arrow streaked forward and struck Seokga square in the belly, the impact slamming him back against a stone shelf. Agony exploded through his core as the arrow lodged deep. The tip carried a vicious weakening spell—Shadow Drain Venom—that began siphoning his already meager qi like a parasite, spreading cold numbness through his meridians.

Seeing him wounded and gasping, the stepbrothers retreated with satisfied smirks.

“Everyone will think you were eaten up by demons, our poor little brother,” Kael taunted, his voice dripping with false pity. “This was a planned work. We knew you would come crawling for the copy after we took the first one from the library. Did you really believe we would leave anything to chance?”

Draven and Thorne vanished in ripples of shadow. As they disappeared, Kael snapped his fingers. Crimson flames erupted from his fingertips—Purgatory Serpent Flames—engulfing the Tome of Vein Resonance in an instant. The ancient pages curled, blackened, and turned to ash, the precious spell lost forever in a swirl of acrid smoke.

With a final wave of dark qi, they sealed the exit with thick, choking brimstone that radiated oppressive heat and blocked any escape.

Seokga collapsed to one knee, blood staining his robes, the Shadow Drain Venom spreading relentlessly. Esmond rushed to his side, pressing glowing hands against the wound in a desperate healing attempt. “Young master! Hold on—stay with me!”

But nothing worked. The spell drained qi and vitality alike. Esmond’s voice grew frantic as he tried to keep Seokga conscious. “Don’t close your eyes! Fight it! You can’t fall here!”

Seokga’s vision blurred. His soul began to drift, a familiar, terrifying lightness pulling him away from the mortal shell. Was he truly going to get killed again? When would his story ever change for the good? The bitter thought carried resignation as darkness closed in.

Just as his soul threatened to slip away completely, the amulet around his neck—Elara’s silver lotus—flared with brilliant icy light.

Power surged. The dungeon dissolved around him.

He was transported.

Another reincarnation? he thought in the void. But no.

He arrived in the Spirit Realm.

The air thrummed with pure, vibrant qi—thick, luminous strands of energy dancing like living auroras across an endless sky of swirling mists and floating crystalline islands. Towering spirit trees with leaves of liquid silver stretched toward heavens that felt both infinite and intimate. Rivers of pure essence flowed upward in defiance of gravity, nourishing the soul with every breath. Distant mountains pulsed with the heartbeat of ancient powers. Here, spirit and essence intertwined seamlessly; the weak were refined, and the worthy felt their very souls sharpen and expand.

Suddenly, two women appeared before him, radiant and ethereal.

They were extremely beautiful, wrapped in flowing robes of moonlight and frost. As Seokga looked closer, his heart clenched with painful recognition. They were younger versions of his mothers: the gentle yet fierce Lady Faeyn from his divine past, and the fragile but loving Elara of this mortal life.

He reached out desperately, but his fingers passed through Faeyn like mist. “Mother…”

Faeyn smiled with quiet sorrow and offered a clear, glowing vial of water. “This should restore your life force, my arrogant boy. Drink.”

Elara stepped forward, pressing a small, shimmering seed into his palm. “And this will unlock a part of your qi. Now… say this spell with us.”

They began chanting in perfect harmony. The words were exactly the same as those in the burned tome—the forbidden resonance that could awaken dormant essence and break through sealed veins.

Seokga joined them, his voice growing stronger with every syllable. Power flooded his being. His body transformed in a blaze of light—reverting momentarily to the proud, powerful form of the once-god Seokga, tall and commanding, before stabilizing into a radiant spirit form still tied to his mortal shell. A surge of strong spirit qi erupted around him, filling the dungeon with luminous energy that shattered the brimstone seal.

He awoke back in the crypt, glowing with newfound power.

Esmond staggered back in terror, eyes wide at the majestic spirit figure before him. “Y-Young master…? What… what are you?”

Seokga’s voice carried its old divine resonance, calm and reassuring. “It’s still me, Esmond. We are fine. Do not fear.”

Guided by the lingering spirit qi and the amulet’s fading light, they found a hidden secondary passage out of the dungeon. By the time they emerged, the first light of dawn painted the horizon in soft gold. The overgrown tower stood silent behind them.

The moment fresh air touched his skin, Seokga’s form shimmered and returned to the frail, boyish body of the clan’s weakest son. The amulet dissolved into motes of light, its sacrifice complete.

He turned to Esmond, his eyes hard with purpose. “Swear an oath. Never reveal what you saw here today. Not to anyone. On your life and loyalty to my mother.”

Esmond, still shaken but resolute, knelt and swore the blood oath without hesitation.

Satisfied, Seokga straightened despite the lingering ache from the arrow wound. The weakening spell had been partially purged by the spirit realm’s blessing, leaving him with a fragile but real foundation of qi.

They headed back toward the mansion as the sun rose. The tournament would have surely started. Perfect they wouldn't know what hit them

Seokga’s lips curved into a slow, dangerous smile, the Eclipse Sigil pulsing faintly stronger in his core.

Let the real games begin.