The continent of Asterion stretched endlessly, a land where the old myths still breathed. Floating islands cast drifting shadows over ancient forests; mountains pulsed faintly with buried magic; and colossal beasts roamed the borders of civilization like reminders of forgotten eras. Every inch of this world was soaked in the lingering will of divine beings long lost.
At the center of this vast realm stood the Grandheart Dynasty, rulers whose bloodline traced back to the First Monarch — a king rumored to have carved the world itself with a blade of pure light. Beneath them, twelve powerful houses governed the land, each holding a fragment of the old authority known as Heart Ancestry.
Among these houses, the Lanceheart Duchy held one of the fiercest reputations.
They produced knights.
Not ordinary soldiers — but war-born elites who could split mountains with aura-infused blades, ride drakes into battle, and march through storms as if the heavens themselves bowed to their command.
The Lanceheart sons were born for battle.
Every one of them carried a destiny sharpened like a sword.
…except one.
Inside the grand Lanceheart manor — a fortress of obsidian stone, towering banners, and massive training fields — a boy stood alone in a golden hall large enough to fit an army. His posture was straight, his expression calm, but his eyes hid a quiet storm.
This boy was Luice Lanceheart, the unremarkable sixth son of the duke.
Where his brothers boasted broad shoulders, fierce auras, and eyes that blazed with the lust for battle, Luice looked almost delicate. No visible aura. No sign of talent. His hair was a muted silver that never shone like his siblings'. His mana flow was thin, almost brittle.
And now, at fifteen, he had just undergone the Appraisal Ceremony.
Before him floated a translucent crest of light — an ancient artifact that had revealed every Lanceheart's ability for generations.
The crest pulsed.
Letters materialized.
Slowly.
Uncertainly.
Like even the world hesitated to accept the result.
[Unique Ability Acquired: ROYAL PASS]
Silence swallowed the hall.
The duke — Luice's father — did not shout.
He didn't need to.
Disappointment was carved into every line of his face.
To the Lancehearts, abilities were sacred.
They shaped the path of a knight's life.
His eldest brother possessed Titan Aura, granting overwhelming strength.
His second brother wielded Dragonblood Infusion.
His third could summon spectral blades.
His fourth manipulated his bones like weapons.
His fifth commanded living lightning.
And Luice…
received something that sounded like a merchant's inventory scroll.
The court elders murmured.
A few snorted.
Some simply shook their heads.
Even the magic crest seemed embarrassed for him before fading into nothingness.
But Luice didn't flinch.
He studied the words "Royal Pass" with an emotionless calm, even though a sharp weight pressed down in his chest. If this had been anyone else, he would've laughed at the absurdity.
A knight family producing a son with… whatever this was?
It wasn't just useless.
It was an insult to tradition.
Finally, the duke spoke, voice cold enough to freeze the hall.
"Luice Lanceheart. Sixth son. Your ability is ill-suited for a knight of our blood. We cannot waste resources nurturing something that cannot serve the duchy."
The words were wrapped in formal politeness.
But the meaning was clear:
You are a dead branch.
"From this day forward," the duke continued, "you will take stewardship of the remote territory of Farling Hollow. Manage it as you wish. It is… an appropriate domain for someone of your ability."
Murmurs grew louder.
Farling Hollow — a backwater land on the edge of the empire.
Overrun by beasts.
Ignored by the capital.
Barely populated.
And famous for one thing:
No one sent there ever returned with anything but regret.
Luice bowed his head slightly.
Not in obedience.
Not in fear.
But in calculation.
He knew the truth: this wasn't an assignment.
It was exile disguised as generosity.
Perfect.
Let them think they'd thrown him away.
Let them believe he was harmless.
He would use that.
When the hall dispersed, Luice stepped outside into the cold evening wind. Training knights clashed swords in the distance, their auras crackling like lightning. Stable boys tended to drake mounts. Tower bells rang as patrols changed shifts.
This place had always suffocated him.
He preferred silence.
Shadows.
Freedom.
And now, ironically, the family had handed him exactly what he needed.
As he reached the lonely path leading away from the estate, a faint sound chimed in his mind.
DING!
A screen of light snapped open in front of him — unseen by anyone but him.
[Royal Pass — Season 1 Activated]
[100 Tiers Available]
[Tier 1 Mission Generated]
A line of text unfolded slowly:
"Begin your dominion.
Claim land with your own hands."
Luice stared at the message.
His lips curved — a tiny, sharp, calculated smile.
They thought they exiled him to nothing?
No.
They had unknowingly given him the perfect starting point for conquest.