The Unspoken Cost

The soft light of early morning filtered through the high windows of Valen's private chamber, casting long shadows across the polished stone floor.

Valen stood by the mirror, adjusting the collar of his black tunic, his face impassive. In the dim reflection, his silver hair caught the light, gleaming faintly.

But his mind wasn't on appearances. It was on the task ahead—on the Essence Orbs, the Prime Essence Orbs, and the ritual that loomed ever closer.

He turned sharply as a knock sounded at his door. "Enter," Valen said, his voice smooth but carrying an edge of authority.

The door creaked open, and Darius, Selene, and Alaric stepped in, their expressions reflecting the weight of the responsibilities they carried.

Valen had summoned them early to assess their progress, and each one looked ready with a report.

Darius cleared his throat, stepping forward first.

"My lord, the collection of the Essence Orbs continues as expected. We have nearly reached a third of the total amount required. The prisoners are steady, though finding new ones without raising suspicion is becoming a... challenge."

Valen nodded, considering this. "Continue the work," he said evenly. "Expand the search if you must, but keep it discreet. We cannot afford unnecessary attention."

Selene shifted uneasily behind Darius. The once-fearless woman seemed to grow more skittish with every passing day, her shoulders hunched as if the weight of her task was slowly breaking her.

Valen turned his gaze on her, and she flinched slightly under his stare.

"My lord," she began, her voice trembling, "the children... The children for the Prime Essence Orbs. It's getting harder. Some of the people are noticing their disappearance, and rumors are starting to spread in certain areas.

I... I fear we may draw attention if we continue like this."

Valen's eyes narrowed. He let the silence linger for a moment, enjoying the quiet pressure it placed on her. Selene's discomfort was obvious, but he had little patience for hesitation now. Every moment they faltered was a step backward in his plan.

"Rumors are inconsequential," Valen said coldly. "It's the results that matter. Do not let your feelings interfere with the task at hand. Do you understand me?"

Selene swallowed, her face pale, and nodded. "Yes, my lord."

Valen's gaze flicked to Alaric, who stood silently at the back of the room, his eyes darting between Selene and Darius. "Alaric," Valen said, his tone sharp. "You will handle any rumors. Ensure that no attention is brought to our activities. Use whatever means necessary."

Alaric stiffened but nodded quickly. "Of course, my lord. I'll see to it immediately."

As his servants filed out of the room, Valen walked to the window and stared out over the vast estate. The world outside moved at a pace he found frustratingly slow.

He could feel the weight of his ambitions pressing down on him, the demands of the First Great Opportunity creeping ever closer. But despite the slow progress, he felt no remorse, no hesitation.

The lives lost in the dungeon were nothing more than tools, their souls repurposed into Essence Orbs that would fuel his rise to power.

The faint sound of footsteps caught his attention, and Valen glanced toward the door. Aeliana's small figure appeared in the hallway, her innocent eyes gleaming as she peeked in at him.

"Valen!" she called out, her voice bright with childish enthusiasm. "Will you play with me today?"

He regarded her for a moment, the faintest hint of a smile curling at the edge of his lips. "Not today, Aeliana," he said smoothly. "I have important work to do. But soon."

Aeliana pouted, her brows furrowing in disappointment. "You always say that."

Valen didn't respond. Instead, he simply watched as she skipped away, her blonde hair bouncing as she moved.

She was oblivious to the darkness lurking beneath the surface of their lives, unaware of the role she would soon play in the ritual that would unlock the First Great Opportunity.

He felt nothing for her—no attachment, no brotherly bond. Only a cold recognition of her value.

Her blood was the key. And he would use it.

As the days passed, Valen's actions grew more ruthless, each one more calculated than the last. In the dungeon, his training sessions became a brutal affair, the sound of steel ringing against flesh and bone as he cut down prisoner after prisoner.

His Battle Arts had grown sharper, more refined. The Void Cleave sliced through his targets with precision, while the Lunar Barrage allowed him to deal with groups of prisoners quickly and efficiently.

With each kill, the dark incantation whispered on his lips, turning the bodies of the fallen into glowing orbs of blood essence.

The power he gained from them was undeniable, and he could feel himself growing stronger with every session.

The Essence Orbs were filling the vials he kept in a secret chamber, neatly organized as a visual testament to his growing power.

Yet, despite the steady accumulation of Essence Orbs, the Prime Essence Orbs remained elusive.

Darius had come to him again, his face troubled. "My lord," he began, his voice uncertain, "we've managed to procure some of the Prime Essence Orbs, but it's... slower than anticipated.

There are fewer children in the areas Selene has been targeting, and... some of the locals are starting to grow suspicious. If we push too hard, it could draw unwanted attention."

Valen's gaze hardened, his patience wearing thin. "Then find another way, Darius. This isn't negotiable. These sacrifices are necessary. You know that."

Darius hesitated, his brow furrowed. "But, my lord... the number of lives we're taking... it's... unprecedented. Even for the Aetheris family." His words were laced with doubt, but he knew better than to challenge Valen openly.

Valen's eyes gleamed with cold resolve. "Power always comes at a cost, Darius. Remember that. The greater the power, the greater the sacrifice.

What we are doing is not just for me, but for the future of the Aetheris family and your own as well. Do you wish to see us remain stagnant? Or do you wish to stand at the pinnacle?"

Darius's jaw tightened, and he lowered his gaze. "I understand, my lord. I will... make it happen."

"Good," Valen replied, his voice sharp. "Ensure that you do. Time is not our enemy yet, but it will be if we falter."

As Darius left, Valen turned his focus inward, allowing his thoughts to swirl around the First Great Opportunity.

The blood of thousands would soon be converted into power, their essence drawn into the orbs that would fuel the ritual. But the key... the true key to it all, was Aeliana.

She was still too young, only four years old, but as the years passed and her sixth birthday approached, Valen knew that her fate was sealed. Her blood, her life, would unlock the ancient stone tablet—the very thing Kael had failed to claim in Echoes of Eternity.

The dungeon echoed with the dull thuds of bodies falling to the stone floor, and the metallic scent of blood hung thick in the air.

Valen's movements were fluid, precise, his Battle Arts honed to perfection as he sliced through his targets.

His Void Step carried him from one side of the room to the other in a blink, while his Astral Edge left no prisoners standing.

He had now fully mastered the Galactic Rend, a technique that cleaved through multiple enemies in one devastating slash.

The bodies of the prisoners fell like broken dolls, their blood swirling in the air as Valen chanted the ancient incantation, turning them into glowing Essence Orbs.

The dark power of the incantation seemed to grow stronger with each use, the air around him humming with an eerie energy.

His training had become more than just a means to an end—it was an obsession. Every session pushed him further, making his kills quicker, more efficient.

There was no hesitation, no mercy. The prisoners were nothing to him, mere tools in his pursuit of power.

Despite the steady progress, there were whispers among the servants. Some of them feared Valen, while others saw his growing strength as a path to securing their future.

But no one spoke openly. They all knew better. Valen's power was unquestionable, and his ambitions were undeniable.

Even Alaric, who once harbored doubt, now seemed fully committed to Valen's cause. His fear had shifted to a quiet reverence, as if he knew that Valen's success would elevate them all.

In the quiet moments of the dungeon, Valen would sometimes catch whispers from the shadows—hushed voices of the servants discussing his future.

They spoke of him as the next great leader of the Aetheris family, someone who would surpass even his father in power and influence.

But Valen paid them no mind. He didn't care for their admiration. He only cared for results.