Prince of Blood. That is what people have begun to call me. I’ve always had nicknames on account of my strength, but nothing so regal sounding. I had awakened a rare double attunement on the testing day, a glorious feat. Elias wouldn’t know, but all the times I swapped with him wasn’t only to help him skip training. There was a certain well-hidden proviso with the clan training rules, and it was that the top three unawakened trainees could join the Tempered in their hunts.

I had fought tooth and claw, training double time and studying incessantly, to stand in front of my peers as their strongest. By thirteen, I had already emerged as the third best, and the next year took the throne. That meant, that while most would only begin hunting magic beasts after their testing day, I had the rare privilege to engage in combat at the tender age of thirteen. Naturally, the privilege had not come easily, and when my mind slipped, I would question why I pushed myself so hard. The answer had been the need I felt to protect Elias, but had grown to encompass my burning desire to grow stronger. After a while, I found it fun too.

At the start, I would only cover for him ever few lessons or so, and would simply pay more attention so I could teach him when we were alone. But once he figured how to leave the lodging without detection, he became incorrigible. The stubborn mule would dodge every combat training to spend his money selling vegetables. Why I would never know. And I knew him too well to futilely try and change him.

I knew the skill was fundamental, but my brother was more enamoured with the shine of gold. He had confided in me, one night, that he had a secret plan. Something about creating a merchant conglomerate from scratch to help the two of us out when we awoke our fire attunements. A noble, but ridiculous sentiment. I’m sure he even sometimes dreamt that his proclivity to spend money might bring him closer to the noble gold fire of our ancestors.

I was convinced that he was probably in for a harsh awakening. A few times, I had left the clan compound just as he had when he was training, and I’d seen the standards of the outside areas. The lower levels of wealth and ability were to be expected, but I had also seen horrific things, things that stayed with me for days. One, in particular, had been this memory of a young girl by the slums. She had been chased by a group of thugs through a few alleyways and had been cornered. She put up a valiant but futile fight, landing a few hits on some of them, only to be clubbed on the back of the head and then carried away.

I then tailed the group, following them to their headquarters. The group that had beat her up had brought her to a rather small warehouse, decrepit in its lack of maintenance. The group had been too big for me to fight earlier, but from what I knew from my training, I would be more than capable of a one on one battle. I could leverage both their lack of training and their lack of alertness to my advantage.

My plan was to scout the area, and then see why they had taken the girl. If it was to right some wrong I’d leave. But if I didn’t like it, I planned to kill them. After all, no harm cleaning some filth. In the end, I had discovered a storage bin filled with skeletons and tattered dresses, making the decision for me. I had frozen in horror for a while, disgusted at the sight, but eventually, my body burned with anger. Turns out I was strong enough to kill them as a group too.

I knew for a fact that nobody else that I trained with even knew how to kill, much less killed someone before. I would likely take a much longer time to understand that if it wasn’t for Father. Sometime after my eleventh birthday, he’d started giving separate lessons. Lessons of a more bloodier variety. As a branch head, he had the liberty to get seasoned warriors to spar with me, and I’d often end training bruised and bloodied. The medicine baths he prepared would usually heal all injuries, but the memories remained for days. That was until I got used to it that the pain I felt seemed to dull.

The time I spent training had seen my blade and grappling techniques improve to the level of a beginner hunter. While it sounded unimpressive to those not in the know, it meant that I was leagues ahead of my peers. That meant he moved to the second phase of his plan and began ‘full blooding’ me as he called it. Something I later realized was illegal throughout the empire. But he wanted the branch family to produce talented warriors that would push it higher, no matter the cost.

He would gather criminals and death row prisoners and have me fight them. At the start, they were merely commoners with no skill, but soon they were replaced by hardened killers and other sorts of unsavoury criminals. So what had started as getting used to executing and dealing with blood had turned into struggles for my life. At some point in time, I gradually adapted. I went from getting cuts all over my body to ending each fight without them even touching me. My mindset had also changed. I liked the fights now.

Astounded by the growth in my strength, Father wanted to implement the same plan for Elias. I had a strong feeling it would most likely break him, given his much gentler spirit. In the end, as with training, I told Father I would train on his behalf. The next training session had been hell. Instead of fighting individually strong people now, I was fighting multiples of them to death. And under different conditions. Sometimes I was tired by a previous battle, sometimes under the pressure of a stronger warrior’s bloodlust, or in smoke, mud, water. The scenarios were endless. And this was the routine that had taken over my rest time from clan training.

On the clan training side of things, I began to have more and more fun hunting wild beasts and relishing in the savage battle of my technique and training against nature’s brutal efficiency. It was an excellent honing tool for me, too, given how the older hunters would leave beasts to me to fight based on my strength. With how constantly I was fighting beasts and humans, I ended up developing my own bloodlust at 15.

That had shocked both the hunters and the trainers in the clan grounds, bringing me to the attention of the clan head. Rumours had it that the King of the Holstein kingdom, the current clan master of the Holstein clan, was at the precipice of entering the Sage realm. This would put his strength in the top twenty of all the kings in the Tristram empire. Having a man so powerful focus on you had been rather nerve-wracking for me.

Oh, how Father had rejoiced that the branch was getting attention even before I went through the testing day. The king had scheduled me to meet with him, and I had never been so fussed about and pampered with luxurious clothes as I had on that day. I had walked into a side room of the throne room, dressed in black clothes filigreed with gold on the edges. Nothing too ostentatious, but I felt I looked good in it. I had admired my presence and had wondered if the King would be impressed as we travelled to the palace by carriage. Any thoughts on my appearance had fled my mind when I was brought before King Dresal. Just the sheer presence he had in the room robbed me of rational thought, all I could do was to kneel and wait.

Fortunately, he had retracted his presence and granted me permission to raise my head.

At the sight of him, I began to tremble. Not from fear or anxiety, but sheer unadulterated joy and ambition. I knew then, what had sent jolts of electricity through my veins. The power of a man to make millions submit, the power to reign as a monarch. Of course, I knew just how far the gap between a Novice rank Temperer like me and half-step Sage rank Temperer like the King was. But how could I control the awe that coursed through me, I had never met anyone as powerful before.

“Darius Holstein, son of branch head Drestus Holstein. At the age of fifteen, you are capable of emitting and controlling your bloodthirst. To progress so much through combat with beasts is commendable. We will be increasing the resources given to your branch of the family to nurture you. Keep training.” The King’s regal voice had boomed.

“Thank you, my king,” I said as I bowed at the waist.

“HA! I am proud to hear that the juniors of my clan are growing well. We are one royal clan, we must help each other. Speak, Darius, I grant you the right to make one request to me.”

I and my parents had suspected that I would get the right to make a request. After all, I had emerged as the best among the unawakened at the age of 14 itself, something usually monopolised by those a full year older. A particularly rare feat, given the difficulty in edging out an advantage over a full year of training. Nevertheless, I had done it, and both I and my parents had anticipated my reward.

I wanted to ask for a protective Armament of some kind to give to Elias so that he could stay safe despite how he weak he was. But the fool had his head in the clouds and even stayed out on the days leading up to my meeting with the King, and even now was still outside the Clan complex. That had hurt me a little, and it had angered my parents greatly. Not to mention, they had a plan in mind for me. They were banking on the secret, bloodier training I had been receiving on the side, and the fact I had awakened bloodthirst at this early age to give me a unique attunement. To capitalise on that, they had thought up a plan.

“My king, I would like to defer this reward after my testing day. I would like a weapon suited to my attributes to be forged.”

I spoke, voice quivering in the middle but growing resolute by the end. I knew this was a long shot given how expensive it would be to make one, but it was absolutely essential for me if I wanted to grow faster.

“Only a little cub and already he hungers?”

King Dresal’s eyes narrow and he watches me silently for a while. Given that the side room is only populated by me, the master of ceremonies and the King, I feel the pressure mount and begin to sweat. Without anyone to turn to I do my best to hide any outward signs of weakness. I am worthy of the weapon that I ask for, I tell my self. After a minute or two that had felt like an eternity, the King relents.

“HAHA! I like your appetite. Very well, I will grant you this, but only if you have a unique attunement. One needs to justify one’s appetite with talent and skill, after all.”

“Thank you so much, King Dresal. I will show you that I am worthy.” The stress I had been under gives way to relief. I bow at the waist again to hide the huge grin across my face.

“Drubal! Take note of the man’s name and what I have said. As I have said, so it shall be. Return Darius, and do not let me down.”

With a bow to the king and a nod to the man who stood by his side, I scurry out to find my parents waiting outside the palace. The nod I give them and the wide grin on my face results in their own faces beaming with pride and joy, as they give me a hug. I realise something, at that moment. I missed this. I rarely receive the affections of my parents since I rarely see Mother, and Father only during training. It had been years since I last had a hug. I only barely realise a tear of joy slip out of my eye as I savour this rare moment.