Memories.

Upon entering the visitor's chambers, Dax immediately searched for the washroom. Stepping inside, a wave of hot steam enveloped him, momentarily obscuring his vision. Without hesitation, he stripped off his bloodied clothes, the fabric peeling away from his skin like a second layer of battle.

His eyes swept over the modest surroundings—a small wooden bucket and a large bathtub filled with warm water. Without a hint hesitation he stepped into the bath, submerging himself, letting the heat seep into his muscles as he washed away the grime and blood clinging to him. The water darkened with the remnants of his battles, but he barely paid it any mind.

After his long bath, Dax walked over to a mirror, his red eyes locking onto his reflection. He wasn't surprised by what he saw—the gene similarities ensured that much—but there was something different. Something striking.

He traced his fingers over his face, taking in the sharp contours, the chiseled perfection. He had always been aware of his past appearance, but this? This was beyond expectation. He looked… refined. Stronger. Handsome, even. 

His lips curved upward slightly, an unfamiliar expression forming—a smirk? No, something deeper. Amusement? Satisfaction?

Dax had an idea of what caused this change. He was certain it was one of the effects of his race transformation.

Turning away from the mirror, he moved toward the bed. The craftsmanship was intricate, the wooden frame adorned with small, eerie gargoyle carvings. He barely acknowledged them as exhaustion pressed against him like a heavy weight. The moment his head touched the pillow, his body surrendered. Sleep claimed him instantly, pulling him into a deep, undisturbed slumber. 

Memory Recovery: 100%

Memory Recovery Complete.

As the memories surged through him, Dax felt like an observer trapped behind someone else's eyes. Yet, this was different. He wasn't just watching the past—he was reliving it. From the moment of birth to his final moments before becoming a battle slave, every detail unfolded before him.

The first thing he saw was the blood storm.

The sky had wept crimson on the day of his birth, staining the world in an omen of power. That day, something ancient had stirred. Sealed mana, long dormant within the world, revived, causing chaotic upheaval across the land. In his sleep, Dax whispered the words that had been burned into his past self's mind:

"On the day of my birth, the world revitalized, and chaos broke out."

His birth had been celebrated. A moment of triumph for the Godfall Clan. Their ancestor, before stepping into the Vanishing Realm, had left behind a prophecy:

"On the day the sky weeps blood, a child shall be born—one who will shape the fate of our clan."

For years, his family believed he was destined for greatness. But as time passed, the dream unraveled into a cruel reality.

At the age when his peers awakened their mana cores, his family made a devastating discovery—Dax possessed neither a mana core nor an aura core.

This was unheard of. Every being in this world had one or the other. Some, in rare cases, had both. But he had neither. His father tried to hide it, seeking alchemists and renowned healers to uncover the truth, but no explanation could be found.

The whispers began. The stares followed. His title changed overnight.

From "Prophecy Child" to "Disgrace of the Godfall.

No one dared to mock him outright, but he saw it in their eyes—scorn, disappointment, and pity.

Dax had few friends, but one remained by his side—Endo of the Moon Clan. Unlike others, Endo never cared about status. The boy was round-faced, always eating, always talking about food. His father often brought him to visit, and for a time, Dax had at least one person who didn't see him as a failure.

But then Endo left for the Athelstan School of Sword and Magic, the most prestigious academy in the Magic Empire. Letters never came. Over time, Dax stopped expecting them.

Even then, his father refused to give up.

If Dax had no mana or aura, then he would be forged into a warrior with his body alone. While others enrolled in grand academies, his father subjected him to brutal training. His body was sculpted through agony—muscles torn and rebuilt, bones hardened through relentless combat drills.

And then, his father made a choice.

Inferno Knight Academy.

A school where only the most determined warriors survived. The academy was founded by Nyxen Cain, a man his father trusted like a brother. Inferno Academy specialized in martial arts that refined the body and will—the only path left for someone like Dax.

The technique his father urged him to take was the Earth Dragon's Body Refinement Technique—a method that strengthened the body's durability and willpower to inhuman levels. No flashy attacks. No elemental prowess. Just sheer, unbreakable endurance.

Dax had been mocked when he chose it. Months passed, and while others advanced, he saw no progress. He questioned himself. Was this all pointless? Was he truly worthless?

Then came the Month of Fishing.

The academy's instructors would now choose their students based on talent. The stronger the student, the greater the instructor's rewards. Everyone wanted a powerful mentor.

Among all instructors, one stood out the most—

Susan Cain. Born and raised in Inferno Academy, she was an untouchable figure. A war goddess in rank-four armor, her presence alone demanded respect. Her name echoed through the Bertha Empire's junior rankings, sitting firmly at No. 5.

And yet, to Dax's horror, he was not chosen by her.

He was chosen by Ethan Troy.

A beast tamer.

A Troy.

A member of the very household that had once sought to exterminate the Godfall Clan.

Fate was cruel.

And it was not just any Troy.

It was the second son of the patriarch—Ethan Troy.

The Troy household was not feared simply because of their beasts but because of the minds behind them. A beast could be slain. A master endured.

The beast tamer class was terrifying for one reason—a tamer shared 50% of their beast's stats. The stronger the beast, the stronger the tamer. It was not a one-sided dependency but a terrifying symbiosis.

Additionally, beast tamers possessed a unique skill—Beast Speech.

This ability allowed them to communicate with both wild and tamed beasts. It was more than just words—it was understanding. One whisper could turn a raging monster into an obedient pet, and one command could send an army of creatures into a frenzy of slaughter.

Ethan Troy was ranked No. 13 in the Bertha Empire's junior rankings. But that wasn't what unsettled Dax.

The Troy household and the Godfall Clan were bound by more than just history—they were blood-sworn enemies.

The Troy family had been one of the greatest contributors to the attempted eradication of the Godfalls. A household that once ranked No. 2 among the Ten Great Families—until their decline.

And their decline was because of the Godfalls.

The white-haired devils had left behind a path of carnage, slaughtering their enemies without hesitation, without mercy. Their left hands brought sorrow to all who stood in their way.

It was said that when facing a Godfall, you must overwhelm them with numbers. And if that wasn't possible—you must kill them in a single strike.

Otherwise, you would be the one left to die.

The legends spoke of Godfalls returning from battle, their once snow-white hair soaked in the blood of their enemies, dyed crimson.

They had proven why they needed to be eradicated.

And so, Lord Troy, the envoy of the Beast God, took it upon himself to destroy the Godfalls.

The Troys struck first—a calculated, merciless assault. They overwhelmed the Godfalls with numbers and monstrous beasts, hoping to wipe them from existence.

But the Godfalls did not run. They did not kneel.

Instead, they retaliated.

They turned their vengeance upon the Troy clan, starting with their branch families.

The Godfalls slaughtered without exception—mothers, children, husbands, wives, even the elderly.

They did not plunder. Not a single coin went missing. Only lives.

For years, this relentless slaughter continued. One by one, the branch families of the Troys were erased from history, until only the main household remained.

This was the cause of their downfall.

This was the birth of their undying hatred.

Eventually, the Bertha Empire's Emperor intervened. The massacre had spiraled beyond control, threatening the stability of the empire itself.

An edict was issued—the slaughter would end. A peace treaty was signed, binding the two clans in an uneasy truce.

As part of the agreement, a tournament was established—held once every ten years.

The winner would receive:

500,000 high-grade spirit stones

The core of a 5,000-year-old dragon

Four invitations to Athelstan Academy

For now, the bloodshed ceased. But hatred did not fade.

It was merely postponed.