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What if the balance of the world depended on a single awakening?

In the ancient land of Bathalumea, a once-mighty civilization now fractured by time and turmoil, whispers of a forgotten power begin to stir. Haraya, the fabled ability to shape reality itself, was long thought to be a myth, buried alongside the sovereign bloodlines that once wielded it. But Haraya was never truly gone—it only waited.

Now, as a new age dawns, the power begins to resurface. Across the sacred grounds of Bathalan, through the storm-laden waves of the Bagyuna Ocean, and into the shadowed ruins of Gintara, the resurgence of Haraya sends ripples through a divided world. The balance between order and chaos begins to tip, drawing the attention of powerful factions who see in it the key to domination—or destruction.

Among them, a descendant of the lost power emerges. Haunted by tragedy and driven by the dream of rebuilding what was lost, they find themselves entwined with Haraya’s awakening. But as the forces of greed, fear, and ambition converge, they must decide: will they wield Haraya to heal a broken world, or will it unravel under the weight of those who seek to claim it?

From the volcanic heights of Kaluyara to the enchanted forests of Aralyon, and into the unfathomable depths of the Diwang Abyss, Bloodline: Sovereign’s Awakening weaves a tale of hope, sacrifice, and reckoning. As ancient powers clash and the threads of fate tighten, one truth becomes clear: the return of Haraya may save the world—or destroy it forever.

"Bloodline: Sovereign’s Awakening" is a tale of reckoning and renewal, where a power lost to time could unite a fractured world—or be extinguished forever, leaving its promise unfulfilled.

Bloodline: Sovereign's Awakening

A force beyond mortal reckoning paralyzed the entire space of Tala's residence.

Everything—the breath of wind, the hush of flowing water, the subtle pulse of living energy—had ceased. The very air carried a weight so dense it felt as if time itself had congealed, trapping the estate within an eerie stillness.

The cosmic tapestry above, once interwoven with glimmering celestial threads, flickered erratically, as though struggling to decide whether to persist or unravel.

The mansion's vast moonlit gardens, once a sanctuary of tranquil beauty, were now caught in a paradox of existence.

Frozen between bloom and decay, the monarch rosemallow blossoms, which unfurled only under the touch of starlight, hung with half-withered, half-thriving petals, uncertain of their fate.

The shimmering pools of Dalisay Dew, known to ripple with the softest of heartbeats, had turned into motionless mirrors of silver, reflecting a sky in disarray.

Retribution of the Awakened