CHAPTER 6 NEW BLOOD

The scent of parchment, ink, and ancient scrolls filled the air as Regillia leaned back in her chair, her dark eyes scanning the world laid out before her. She had spent years in solitude, studying the intricacies of the world, the history of the Nine Races, and the delicate politics of the Empire she was born into. A slow smile tugged at her lips as she turned the page of a detailed map, her gaze fixed on the shifting territories and the underlying currents of power.

Today, her thoughts wandered to the family she had long distanced herself from—the very family that had shaped her existence yet remained distant. Born to the Emperor—a figure whose influence was felt throughout the lower dimension—Regillia had always known her place in the grand design. As the firstborn child of the Emperor, she was meant to lead, to be the heir to the throne. However, her twin brother, Caules, born at the same time, had never been a source of competition in her eyes. They were simply two pieces in the same game—indifferent to one another, often lost in their own separate worlds.

Their relationship was one of cold indifference. Caules had always been an extension of her. While Regillia's sharp intellect and calculating nature had been honed by years of study and observation, Caules was distant, a figure who seemed to lack both ambition and the ruthlessness that Regillia took pride in. In truth, they had never truly cared for one another. His presence was tolerable, and his existence was dedicated entirely to Regillia.

"My talent will be sealed for some time. For most, it takes 100 years. The higher the talent, the longer the sealed time. There are ways to unseal it prematurely, but it is not recommended. Natural awakening is fine, but external influence may disrupt the process," Regillia noted aloud as she scribbled her findings into a journal. "After extended study, I've theorized that the nervous system creates a secondary channel for energy just beneath the original—a meridian. Once this meridian fully awakens, the aging process resumes. Until then, those over 20 years of age stop aging altogether."

Regillia's pen paused, and her expression turned pensive. "Many use this time to adapt their bodies and create a cultivation technique, but the effort deters most. Only the truly talented attempt such feats. According to my calculations, due to my talent, I won't be able to cultivate for the next 500 to 1,000 years."

As the firstborn, Regillia's birthright had always been assumed. But her father, Emperor Valerion, was a member of the Racial Council—the governing body ruling over the Nine Races. Emperor Lucius held the fourth position in the Council, a seat that was the true source of his power, far beyond mere bloodline legacy. The Racial Council was a ruthless institution, where manipulation, control, and domination defined survival. Only the strongest and most cunning endured.

Emperor Lucius had secured his position through years of intrigue and warfare. His influence ensured the human empire's dominance among the Nine Races. Regillia understood that inheriting such a legacy would not come easily. The Emperor's role on the Racial Council was more than a title; it was a testament to his strength, intelligence, and unwavering resolve.

Regillia's thoughts shifted to the Emperor Succession War. It would be the ultimate test. "Fourteen siblings," she muttered, her tone laced with disdain. "During the past hundred years, my father introduced new 'siblings' into the family—children from different mothers. It's like worms popping from the soil after rain."

Her lips curled into a grim smile. "He also announced the date for the Succession War. It will be held 2,000 years from now. A battle royal of strength, intelligence, and leadership. The last one standing takes the throne."

The Emperor Succession War was not just a contest of might but a crucible of cunning and strategy. Regillia knew the stakes. The winner would inherit the empire and the right to compete for their father's position on the Racial Council.

"The format of the war hasn't been announced yet," she mused, "but it will test every aspect of us. Strength, intellect, leadership. The others will come for me—one by one."

Her thoughts were interrupted by a familiar voice. Cold and distant as always, Caules stood in the doorway. "We will have to deal with the others sooner or later," he said, his blank expression revealing little.

Regillia's gaze remained on the records before her. "Of course," she replied, her voice carrying the weight of a decision already made. "They will come for us, one by one. The challenges will be relentless, and only the strongest will survive."

Caules gave no response, his disinterest evident. Yet Regillia could sense the shifting tides. The rebellion in the lower dimension—a quiet whisper in the shadows—was already taking shape. Lesser races were stirring, desperate for change, for power. The uprising was inevitable, and Regillia had no intention of being caught off guard.

"The chaos will work to my advantage," she thought, a glint of determination in her eyes. "The rebellion can provide the perfect opportunity to further my goals."

Her father's foresight had prepared her for this. The lower dimension was on the brink of chaos, and Regillia's rise to power would be forged in its flames. The empire, the throne, and the Racial Council were all within her reach. But only if she played the game with the cruelty and cunning her bloodline demanded.

"Eve."

[YES] 

"Is my anchor able to cultivate?" 

[YES, HE CAN CULTIVATE. HIS TALENTS ARE UNDEFINED, MEANING HE HAS NO LIMITATIONS. HE CAN ACHIEVE ALMOST ANYTHING.] 

The corner of my lips curled slightly. 'Undefined talents? No limitations? why is that ?' 

"Hmm, interesting." I tapped my fingers against my arm. "I've gathered an extensive amount of knowledge on cultivation up to the peak of the Mortal Realm. Is there more I should know?" 

[YES. HOWEVER, YOUR TALENT WILL TAKE TIME TO AWAKEN. YOUR BODY STOPPED AGING AT 20, AND UNTIL YOUR TALENT FULLY AWAKENS, YOU WILL NOT AGE EVEN A SINGLE DAY. THIS IS DUE TO THE TIME LAWS OF THE LOWER DIMENSION. THE LOWER DIMENSION IS KNOWN AS THE CRADLE OF THE SUPREME NEXUS.] 

My expression didn't change, but my mind sharpened. 'Time Laws? A natural barrier ?'

"Supreme Nexus?" I asked, as if casually verifying the information. "Am I to assume that is the true name of this universe?" 

[YES. THAT IS THE TRUE NAME OF THIS UNIVERSE. THE REASON THE UNIVERSE TRIED TO ERADICATE THE LOWER DIMENSION IS BECAUSE OF YOU. WHEN YOU WERE BORN, YOU POSSESSED A FRAGMENT OF PERFECTION. UNDER UNIVERSAL LAW, MORTALS ARE FORBIDDEN FROM HOLDING EVEN A TRACE OF IMMORTAL PERFECTION. BY BRINGING YOUR ANCHOR INTO EXISTENCE, I RENDERED THAT PERFECTION USELESS. IT NO LONGER PROVIDES YOU WITH ANY BENEFIT.] 

I narrowed my eyes. 'A fragment of perfection? was the perfection in me transferred to my anchor ? is that why his talent is undefined ? if he possess the fragment of perfection then why is the universe not considering him as a threat ?' 

"And yet, the universe failed to erase me," I noted, my voice even. "That implies intervention. Whose hand was it?" 

[YOUR CURRENT STRENGTH DOES NOT QUALIFY YOU FOR THAT ANSWER. REMEMBER, INFORMATION HAS WEIGHT. IT IS AN ASPECT OF THE UNIVERSE ITSELF. IF YOU ARE NOT WORTHY OF KNOWLEDGE, YOU WILL SIMPLY FORGET IT. THEREFORE, THERE IS NO PURPOSE IN REVEALING THE TRUTH TO YOU NOW, GIVEN YOUR NONEXISTENT STRENGTH.] 

I inhaled slowly. 'Not that I expected a direct answer, but this confirms something critical—knowledge itself is a battlefield.information should be at my fingertips will design a technique for that during this sealed time' 

[MORTAL CULTIVATION IS THE FOUNDATION. THE STRENGTH OF THIS FOUNDATION WILL DETERMINE HOW FAR YOU CAN WALK THE IMMORTAL PATH. IT MUST BE BUILT TO PERFECTION.] 

[PEAK MORTAL PERFECTION IS THE THRESHOLD BETWEEN MORTALITY AND IMMORTALITY. IT IS THE LIMIT OF WHAT A BEING CAN ACHIEVE BEFORE STEPPING BEYOND THE LAWS OF LOWER EXISTENCE. REACHING THIS STATE ENSURES THAT YOUR IMMORTAL PATH WILL BE BUILT UPON A FOUNDATION WITHOUT FLAWS.] 

"Foundation without flaws," I echoed, my fingers tightening slightly. "And what of those who attempt immortality without it?" 

[IT WILL BE DIFFICULT EVEN IMPOSSIBLE FOR THEM TO MOVE HIGHER. THEY WILL STAGNATE OR BE ERASED.] 

A silent laugh built in my chest. 'So, a foundation is not just important—it is absolute. But who dictates these rules? The universe? Or something beyond even it?'

I leaned back, my mind whirling with possibilities. 

"Very well," I said. "tell me more about this mortal perfection"