The three youths froze.
They felt no energy from him, yet it was clear he was at least at their level — maybe even stronger.
But it was all a grand act.
Kael, at that very moment, was feeling an intense pain in his wrist.
He was painfully thin and weak.
Even though the stolen bloodline allowed him to multiply his strength, his original strength was so low it was almost negligible. It couldn't even compare to the body of someone in the second stage, where both the body and even the soul would undergo transformation.
Still, none of that stopped him from acting. He kept holding onto the clenched fist, then smiled faintly — an innocent, harmless smile — before slowly letting it go.
"I think there's been a misunderstanding. I came here to train, but since you're already here, I won't interrupt your… impressive session," he said casually.
The youth standing before him was visibly startled, even afraid.
There was no fear in the child's eyes.
No hesitation.
'But why can't I feel anything from him?'
This question haunted the young man's mind.
He quickly ran through every possibility —perhaps Kael was truly at their level… or even above.
'Even if he's at our level… there are three of us, all near the peak of the second stage. We can handle him.'
He smiled, then placed his hand firmly on the short Kael's shoulder.
"We wouldn't want to inconvenience the new guys. Come on, train with us! Look, there are plenty of targets that might catch your eye!"
Kael looked at him calmly for a moment, his face expressionless, before his voice broke through — unable to hide the anger within:
"Take your filthy hand off me."
The youth stared at him, shocked, then glanced at his two friends. They both nodded subtly.
Kael caught the signal instantly.
'Looks like you've gotten yourself into quite a mess, you brat ,' said the voice in Kael's head, clearly amused.
"So, do you have anything that might help? Don't forget our agreement," Kael muttered as the three youths began to close in.
'Hehehe, just steal their bloodlines and be done with it. Ah, looks like each of them has the same bloodline anyway. Take one of them down, and the other two will surely flee.'
It was a viable and quick method. Last time, Kael hadn't even needed to lift a finger to kill the third-stage guard and steal his bloodline. Of course, the blood had only succeeded because the guard had been caught off-guard.
"I can't… I'm still inside the family," Kael rejected the idea internally. "Everyone thinks I don't even have a bloodline yet."
At that very moment, a powerful strike hit him — far faster and stronger than before.
It slammed into his gut, sending him flying toward the other two youths.
Both struck him simultaneously mid-air.
He crashed to the ground hard.
Blood gushed from his mouth.
Pain blossomed through his body, but he said nothing. This pain… was so minor compared to the beatings he had suffered in the prison.
Compared to those days, this was a mere tickle.
Realizing this, Kael suddenly burst into laughter — a wild, hysterical laugh. The three youths looked at him, stunned.
"He's insane," one of them muttered.
Kael stood up, still laughing, clutching his knee for balance.
"You really tickled me, hahahaha," he giggled uncontrollably, lowering his head.
The three still stared at him, frozen.
"What are you doing? Come on! Let's continue! I've never laughed like this in my life! Come on, come on!" he cried out.
The youth in front of him grew furious.
Activating his bloodline, he appeared instantly before Kael, raising his hand high.
"Let's see you laugh at this!"
Boom!
Another devastating blow struck the same spot on Kael's abdomen.
He was hurled against the wall with bone-breaking force.
He felt ribs snap…
Yet even as pain engulfed him, the laughter didn't stop.
Mousan, watching from the side, grew visibly worried.
He himself had never endured this level of violence — yet Kael kept provoking them.
'You little fool… If you keep pushing them, you might actually die,' the voice said calmly.
Still, Kael's laughter only grew louder, blood dripping freely from his mouth.
He wasn't laughing in his mind anymore — he was screaming, genuinely, out loud:
"Why do you care anyway?! Isn't this what you wanted?! Look at them… mocking me… treating me like dirt!"
Slowly, Kael stood up, trembling with pain.
The laughter died at last.
He lifted his eyes to the bleak ceiling, whispering in thought:
"Ah… this was always my life. I've never changed. Everyone who wanted to beat me did so. Everyone who wished to mock me did so freely. I am… nothing. You hear me, bloodline? I'm nothing but a filthy, wretched worm."
He paused, breathing heavily, staring at the blood pooling beneath him.
"Since prison… Only my blood has kept me alive. Even after escaping… Without Nyros and the bloodline, I would have died. I am weak. I am utterly pathetic. Is this the truth of the world? That the weak have no right to dream? That they are denied ambition? That they are considered nothing?"
Kael clenched his fists.
Despite everything, despite the weeks that had passed, he remained so fragile.
He had done nothing on his own.
He had always been rescued, always been shielded by others.
He had even accepted it — thinking that depending on others was a necessity in this cruel world.
But now, right now, something within him snapped.
He realized something fundamental about himself: He had never truly wanted to depend on anyone.
Maybe he hadn't had the time to train and develop himself properly, buried under endless humiliations and beatings… But that was just an excuse. A pathetic excuse.
If he had faced those challenges alone — and survived — he would have learned, he would have grown stronger.
Instead, he had begged for help.Wished for rescue.
Because deep down… He had been so afraid.
Kael looked at the three youths coldly. And without hesitation, charged straight at them.
Either he would survive this… Or he would be destroyed trying.
He was so slow compared to them.
The three youths, all from the Caldres family, possessed the Speed Bloodline — a bloodline that vastly increased their natural quickness. Even without it, as second-stage cultivators, their speed surpassed his by miles.
Now, it was their turn to laugh.
They laughed mockingly, knowing full well how this would end.
"No need for all of us to jump in," one of them said with a laugh. "I'll just break his legs real quick!"
The others chuckled and stepped back, granting him the stage.
The youth appeared before Kael in an instant, throwing a punch straight for his body.
Kael saw it coming — but couldn't dodge.
He tried to throw a punch of his own… but it didn't even land.
He was struck before he could even think, collapsing to his knees.
He had no chance.
Not even to land a single blow.
The voice inside sighed softly.
'You little wretch… I'll help you, as per our agreement.'
"NO!!" Kael screamed internally, resisting fiercely.
The voice chuckled.
'I'm not helping you. I'm just showing you the path to your own ability. Do you remember the man whose bloodline you stole? You have his memories now. He was at the third stage. His skills… his training… his instincts… they're all inside you.'
'Your ability isn't just stealing bloodlines… It's stealing their very selves — their memories, their abilities, their experiences.'
Kael hesitated.
But the voice pressed on.
'They're using their powers against you. You should use yours too. And besides… It's not as if it's easy. Mastering it will take endless training. But for now, it might just save your life.'
Kael hesitated longer.
But deep down…He knew.
If he didn't act now, he would never forgive himself.
The youth lunged forward to grab Kael's arm — but Kael leapt backward instinctively. He had made his decision.
In a flash, Kael dived into the stolen memories.
Everything flooded in.
Every moment the man had lifted a sword.
Every battle, every injury, every lesson, every triumph, every fall.
Kael relived them all in the blink of an eye.
He wavered, feeling a dizzying vertigo.
But then he stood tall.
Straight.
Different.
His stance shifted entirely.
His hands raised naturally.
His feet settled into place.
It was like he had become someone else entirely.
The approaching youth saw it — and laughed aloud:
"Do you think you're a superhero now?! Stand still and let me break your legs!"
He shot toward Kael.
But Kael didn't dodge.
He waited.
Waited…
And when the boy was right there —
Kael slipped sideways smoothly. Brushed his hand gently over the boy's attacking arm, as if dancing. Then — with sudden force and precision — he yanked it downward violently.
Crack!!
A sickening sound tore through the hall. The youth screamed in agony, clutching his dislocated arm.
Everyone froze. Even Kael.
Standing there, breathing heavily, blood dripping from his lips.
But inside?
Inside, he was smiling.
'I did it.'