Chapter 8 :- Shekhar’s next evolution begins.
Part 1
Physical Stat Level
Strength 15
Endurance. 15
Agility 13
Speed 12
Balance 15
Reaction Time. 14
Stamina 12
Vitality. 16
Willpower. 20 (x10 Multiplier)
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Skill/Ability.
1) Consume Lv 20 :- S Rank - Instantly dissolves corpses for massive Mana/EXP gain.
2) Shadow Pact Lv 5 :- S Rank - Bonded to Rath. Allows Mana Sharing and Attribute Absorption.
3) Elemental Change Lv 18 :- A Rank - Fuses opposing elements (Flame-Ice Dragon).
4) The Fourth Eye Lv 1 :- Unique - The Fourth Eye is a unique ability granted directly by the System.
It transforms everyone’s personal information — hidden or visible — into clear, readable Character Profiles and Status Windows.
Everything Shekhar looks at—humans, beasts, spirits, or even inanimate relics—can be instantly analyzed and displayed in System format.
5) AA-Class Mana Barrier Lv 21 :- A Rank - High-tier defensive shield for absolute protection.
6) Black Ice Dragon Slash Lv 10 :- Ultimate - High-damage technique.
7) Hunter’s Instinct Lv 15 :- A Rank (Passive) - Boosts perception and detects weak points.
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🎒 Inventory.......
1) Black Snow Katana Lv 19 (A-Rank).
2)...........
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Part 2
After analyzing everything—his rapid progress over the past months, which had nevertheless plateaued just shy of true power—Shekhar was still profoundly unsatisfied with his own strength. The memory of his past life as an otaku, devouring anime, manga, manhwa, and novels, was not just nostalgia; it was a library of possibilities. He decided to try something from those fictional worlds, for the fiction he knew had definitively become his new reality.
Shekhar looked out the window, his gaze drawn to the bright celestial orb. "Hmmm, tonight the moon looks beautiful," he murmured, a faint, nostalgic smile touching his lips. "Anyway, in my past life, I really admired the character name Son Goku—not just for his sheer strength and power, but for his pure heart and his kindness. If I can master a Ki system like Goku's, channeling that life force into a tangible power, I think I'll become far stronger—maybe not a planet-buster like him, but strong enough. Those dragons will be nothing to me."
He sat cross-legged on his bed, settling into a classic, stable meditation pose. He closed his eyes and began to meditate in deep, focused concentration, marking the passage of time only by the rhythmic process: a deep inhale, a calculated pause, and a slow, complete exhale. He continued this for what felt like hours, focusing on the subtlest internal sensations until he successfully controlled and sensed the vital flow within his nerves, feeling the oxygen—not just air, but life—reach every cell in his body. Finally, he felt something: not a sudden surge, but an internal luminescence, like a warm sensation or a faint heat beginning to stir. It wasn't a fire, but the pilot light of something greater, a primal heat generated and reproduced by the very core of his cells, humming in a collective chorus.
In this posture, fully absorbed in this nascent, glowing warmth, he eventually fell asleep, the last coherent thought being the profound certainty that his fictional aspirations were already taking root within his physical form.
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Part 3
The next morning, the grand council hall buzzed with hushed anticipation. King Rudra sat upon his ornate throne, a figure of calm authority, flanked by the Ten Councilors of Geniuses who occupied their high-backed chairs, their faces a mixture of wisdom and scrutiny.
A man, the Mayor of Miuron Nagar, approached the foot of the throne, bowing low.
Mayor: "Greetings, my Lord, King Rudra. And to the esteemed Council. I have come with an urgent request—please lend us your help, my Lord."
Rudra: (His voice measured, a careful cadence of concern) "A request for help? Can you clarify the problem that necessitates the intervention of the crown?"
Mayor: "Yes, my Lord. A few weeks ago, strange and monstrous demons began rampaging in Miuron Nagar at night. We are a vital trade hub, and the nightly attacks have brought commerce to a halt and fear to our streets. We initially hired A-rank Hunters, as all the S-rankers were out on long-term missions. But those A-rankers failed to handle these creatures. They are unlike anything we have faced. We are now seeking the direct aid of the Kingdom. Please, my Lord, save our city."
Rudra: (He stroked his beard, a mask of deep contemplation) "Hmmmm... demons, you say."
(King Rudra's Internal Monologue): (Wait, wait, wait... I already told him not to start this yet. He’s moving without waiting for my signal. This complicates the timeline, but the outcome is the same.)
King Rudra expertly masked the shock that flashed through him, quickly controlling it into a near-imperceptible internal smile. This situation, while premature, aligned perfectly with his greater scheme. He remained calmly composed.
Rudra: "The safety of my subjects is paramount. I will send a contingent of our finest Royal Knights to Miuron Nagar. They will secure your city and dispatch these rampaging demons. You may return to your people with this promise."
Mayor: "Thank you, my Lord!" (His voice heavy with relief and hope, the Mayor backed away, then turned and hurried out of the hall.)
No sooner had the Mayor left than a different figure slipped into the hall—an undercover spy known only to the King. The spy moved with practiced silence, kneeling to whisper discreetly.
Spy: "My Lord, all preparations are finalized for the primary agenda. Furthermore, the individual wants to meet with you immediately."
Rudra: (A distinct, cold smirk finally curved his lips, free of the Council’s full attention.) "Excellent. Let's proceed. Also, assemble a few Royal Knights of A++ class and dispatch them to Miuron Nagar at once. Their mission is to kill the demons and 'save' that city."
Spy: "Yes, my Lord."
After that, the King rose, signaling an abrupt close to the session. No one—not the Councilors of Geniuses nor the minor officials—objected to him. The Council adjourned early, and the King's orders were immediately set into motion. Rudra, with the spy trailing silently behind him, departed the hall to attend to the truly important matter: the expected individual.
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Part 4
After a vigorous morning workout at home, which had left his muscles humming with the nascent energy of his Ki cultivation, Shekhar moved out toward the market. The day was deceptively bright. He noted the people around him—shopkeepers setting out wares, children chasing stray dogs—all contributing to a scene of almost irritating peace and contentment.
While walking, he briefly bumped into someone coming around a corner. Instead of the instinctive aggression that still occasionally surfaced from his past life's fighting experiences, he stopped. "I'm sorry, I apologize," he murmured sincerely, bowing his head slightly before moving on. He walked, observing the streets and shops, until a fragment of overheard conversation snared his attention, instantly flushing out his pleasant mood.
He slowed, forced to listen as the details dripped like poison into his ears.
Woman 1: "Hey, have you heard about that kid? Our Princess Hina."
Woman 2: "Yeah, I heard that. Our princess is going to be sacrificed."
Woman 3: "I know. I'm afraid, and I feel guilty for even thinking it, but what can we common people do? It's for the Kingdom's sake."
Just a few steps further, near a spice stall, the conversation continued with the same bleak theme:
Shopkeeper: "Man, did you hear? Our poor princess. She's going to be sacrificed to that Demon Lord for the sake of our kingdom's safety."
Man 1: "Yeah, that poor child. Such an unlucky destiny."
It was everywhere. In groups, in duos, whispered across counters—everyone was talking about Princess Hina and her impending sacrifice. The marriage to a Demon Lord was apparently the price of the kingdom's safety. Everyone lauded the King’s decision as necessary, yet nobody spared a thought for the princess's safety or her own well-being.
Shekhar ground his teeth, his jaw clenching tight enough to ache. The Ki warmth he had cultivated the night before turned into a scalding, impotent heat of fury.
Shekhar (Internal Monologue): "How can a father who calls himself a king sell his own daughter like chattel to a Demon Lord? He says it’s a 'sacrifice for the Kingdom's good,' but what about Hina's safety and well-being? Is she truly okay with this, or is she being coerced and betrayed?"
The happiness of the market became a bitter irony, With that immense frustration and raw anger burning in his chest, Shekhar abandoned his plans immediately. He turned on his heel and strode straight back home, scrapping his idea to go to that isolated cave to meet the two baby dragons, Lunareth, the White Dragon, and Noctarion, the Dark Dragon. He had more important, and far more urgent, conflicts to address now.
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Part 5
In the deep recesses of the Royal Castle, outside a heavy, ornate door, a voice like grinding stones and smoke echoed through the corridor.
Demon Lord Zerathul: "My princess, please open the door. I am here, your future husband, to meet you. Don't be scared; I'm not going to harm you... yet."
Inside, Princess Hina remained silent, paralyzed on the floor. She didn't dare make a sound, desperate to remain invisible to the terrifying entity on the other side.
Demon Lord Zerathul: (A low chuckle, devoid of warmth) "Princess Hina, don't be shy with me. You know that I can destroy everything, and this door is nothing to me. But I don't want to rush things. You and I know very well that when you turn twenty, you will become my bride. At that time, you won't be able to resist contact with me. So be prepared for it, my dear. I am Zerathul, The King of the Demonic Void."
Then, a chilling, resonant demonic laughter echoed through the entire castle, vibrating the stones and the very air. Demon Lord Zerathul casually walked away, his laughter a promise of inescapable doom.
In the solitude of her room, Princess Hina was totally terrified and disturbed by her situation.
Hina: (Whispering, tears streaming down her face) "Why, why, why? Why me? Why do I have to suffer all this? Why do I have to sacrifice myself for the country? Is it because I'm a princess? Is this my responsibility? But who gave it to me? I really don't want this responsibility!" She buried her face in her hands, her small body wracked with deep sobs.
Meanwhile, Shekhar, already inflamed by the rumors, was making his way home.
Shekhar (Internal Monologue): "Why, why, why... how can a father—not as a king, but just as a human being—sacrifice his own daughter to get married to some unknown Demon Lord? The last time I saw her, she was so bright and joyful, spending time with me, and now I can't imagine what she is being put through."
His internal fire solidified into an iron resolve.
Shekhar (Internal Monologue): "I will... NO. I have to. I have to become stronger and faster than those beings. I have to save Hina. I will defeat them all!"
His clenched fists trembled slightly, but the rage had been refined into absolute purpose.
"And I will take my revenge on those who insulted my mother's dignity, and who killed my father. From this moment, I have two goals: Save Hina and Take Revenge."
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Part 6
When Shekhar reached home, the silence of the hall felt heavier than usual, weighted down by his own internal fury. He walked straight toward his room—tired, restless, and utterly unwilling to deal with anyone.
But fate, as always, wasn’t kind.
From the corner of the hall, a sharp, mocking voice cut through the quiet.
Stepmother: (Her voice is a grating instrument of scorn) "Hey, brat. Don't you think you forgot something? You’re just a charity case who doesn't have a family; we gave you one, yet you act like an ignorant fool. You treat this place like a hotel! Stop right there and come here!"
Shekhar didn't stop. He ignored them, his focus fixed on the sanctuary of his room.
Stepbrother: "Hey, you ignorant brat! What the hell is your behavior? Don't you see what she said?"
The stepbrother rushed forward, his hand shooting out to roughly grab Shekhar’s shoulder. It was a monumental mistake.
In that instant of unwanted physical contact, the intense, volatile rage churning inside Shekhar—the fusion of his frustration over Princess Hina and the raw, imperfect Ki he had awakened—violently flared out.
A wave of dense, hot pressure, crude and uncontrolled, erupted from Shekhar's center. Both the stepmother and stepbrother shrieked, instantly overwhelmed. Their knees buckled as the invisible force slammed them against the ground. They lay there, gasping, their nerves tingling and heads throbbing from the sudden, unseen power.
Shekhar: (He didn't even grant them a glance, his voice low and dangerously cold)
"Stepmother, have you forgotten everything? I am not a person who is your slave or toy anymore. But you morons never learn until you taste a beating from something stronger than you. Anyway, I don't have time to waste your ignorance."
He left them sputtering on the floor, went to his room, securely locked the door, and plunged into deep meditation, desperately trying to channel his explosive anger into the warm, humming core he had discovered.
A few hours later, around 11 PM, when Shekhar had still not appeared for dinner, Siya quietly came to his door. She knocked but received no response. She tried the handle, surprised to find the door unlocked (a rare lapse by Shekhar).
The moment she stepped across the threshold, she was hit. The air was thick, heavy, and pulsating with an intense, localized heat. A suffocating pressure, far more intense than the brief burst his family felt, slammed into her. Siya, despite her potential, was instantly overwhelmed. The sheer force and searing warmth stole her consciousness before she could even raise a proper defense.
When Siya woke up, she was startled to find herself lying on Shekhar's bed. The room was empty. She quickly rose, following her instincts to the dining room. There, she found Shekhar sitting at the table, quietly eating his food with the simple focus of a hungry child.
Siya (Internal Monologue): "Who is this kid? Back in his room, a mere child generates that intensity... I don't know how he learned it, but it's clearly incomplete. Yet, it feels strangely different from natural Prana-Shakti."
(Prana-Shakti is the life force energy native to this world, used to enhance all physical and spiritual abilities. It is the crucial link between the body and soul. Everyone possesses it, but control and growth depend entirely on the user's capacity and training abilities.)
Siya: "Hello, young master. I apologize that I collapsed in your room."
Shekhar: "It's okay. But how did you enter? I thought I locked the door when I started meditating."
Siya: "I knocked a few times, but you didn't respond. I tried the handle, and it was unlocked. I just came in to call you, but..."
Shekhar: "I get it. No need to explain that part."
Siya: "But, young master, I didn't realize you knew about Prana-Shakti, and that you were capable of generating a pressure field like that."
Shekhar, who had only been aiming for 'Ki,' looked genuinely confused.
Shekhar: "Prana-Shakti, you say?"
Siya: "Yes. If you wish to practice and want more reliable information, you should take a look at the Book of Prana-Shakti—it’s in your stepfather's study library."
At that very moment, a powerful sense of presence filled the room as Roy Singhania, Shekhar's stepfather, entered the dining room. Both Siya and Shekhar were momentarily shocked by his sudden, almost supernatural appearance.
Roy Singhania: (His voice is deep, calm, and absolute) "Shekhar, in the next month, you are going to school."
To be continued.......
