Rise Of The Lesser-Blood

The heavy paper of the official academy directive felt rough against Thomas’s fingers, a stark contrast to the sterile sheets of the infirmary bed. Before walking out, the old nurse had practically shoved the document into his chest, her parting words ringing with bitter jealousy. It was his official dorm assignment and housing deed. Because the system had successfully tricked the crystal into registering a Grade A talent, Thomas was no longer a village outcast.

He was officially assigned to a premium estate in the outskirts of the Holy City and according to the ink-stamped text at the bottom, the Crown had already forcibly relocated his entire family into the new district while he was asleep.

Thomas gripped the rough document tightly, swung his legs out of the infirmary bed, and walked out into the corridor. The massive, arched stone hallways of Blackspear Academy felt less like a school and more like an ancient fortress. Following the brass signs on the walls, he finally made his way down to the courtyard and approached the colossal iron gates that separated the academy from the rest of the kingdom.

The heavy gates opened with a deep, grinding screech, revealing the breathtaking view of the world outside the tower. Just beyond the academy grounds lay the sprawling, outer ring of the empire the outskirts of the Holy City. This was the promised land his family had dreamed of for generations, a massive step up from the muddy, impoverished village they had left behind.

Thomas stepped through the gates, the fresh air hitting his face as he took his very first steps toward his new life.

Thomas halted just past the threshold of the iron gates and unfolded the heavy paper the nurse had shoved into his hands. His eyes scanned the crisp black ink, tracing the precise, looping directions sketched out from the academy tower down into the residential grid of the outskirts.

He looked up from the map, squinting against the bright sunlight as he tried to orient himself. Standing by the towering stone pillar of the outer checkpoint was an academy gate guard. Thomas caught sight of the man’s uniform—it lacked the silver silk trim of the high-bloods. The guard wore the plain, unadorned iron breastplate of a lesser-blood conscript.

Thomas stepped forward, holding out the directive. ”Excuse me, officer. I’m trying to find Sector 9—”

The guard turned, his stern expression instantly shattering the moment his eyes fell on Thomas’s face. He blinked rapidly, looking from the paper’s glowing Grade A official stamp right back up to Thomas.

”Wait... you’re Thomas? The one from the arena?” The guard’s voice pitched high with sudden, uncontainable excitement. He took a hasty step forward, completely abandoning his rigid posture. ”By the gods, it is you! Word travelled through the lower barracks the second that crystal flooded the arena with Bronze Gold light, kid! A Grade A talent from the village!”

The man slapped a heavy, encouraging hand onto Thomas’s shoulder, his eyes gleaming with fierce pride. To the high-bloods, a utility talent from a low-born was a fluke; but to the millions of lesser-bloods scraping by in the dirt, he was a living myth. An Ace who had just forced the system to give a commoner a piece of the pie just like The Ghost Of Samra.

”Listen to me, Thomas,” the guard whispered intensely, leaning in closer. ”You’ve got the eyes of every lesser-blood in this city on you now. You showed those arrogant bastards upstairs that our blood isn’t broken. Sector 9 is straight down the main cobblestone avenue, take your first left past the iron market. Go find your family, hero. And show those bastards what we can do.”

Thomas pocketed the directive and began the long journey from the peak of the academy tower, cutting directly through the grand thoroughfares of the Holy City down toward the residential ring. As he moved through the streets, the scenery shifted from pristine marble monuments to the crowded cobblestone districts of Sector 9. Thousands of people packed the avenues, and almost every single one of them was a lesser-blood. Dozens of citizens stopped in their tracks to stare at him in sheer awe. Word of the commoner boy who made the awakening stone burn with a brilliant, Bronze Gold light had spread like wildfire. To them, he was an absolute icon.

He followed the map’s ink trails until he finally reached a secluded, weathered lane and stopped dead in his tracks.

Before him stood a rundown estate. To a wealthy noble, the peeling paint, cracked stone walls, and overgrown yard would look like a piece of junk. But to Thomas, it looked like absolute heaven. It was a massive, two-story stone house with real glass windows and a sturdy roof. Compared to the damp, rotting wooden hovel his family had packed themselves into back in their old village, this estate was an unbelievable paradise.

Before he could even step onto the walkway, the heavy wooden front door was violently burst open from the inside.

”Thomas!”

His mother, Mary, practically exploded out through the door. Her face was heavily lined from years of scrubbing noble floors, and her graying hair was pulled back in a neat bun, but her eyes were bright with tearful relief. Right behind her rushed his father, Arthur, a massive man with calloused, rough hands and a permanent hunch from decades of backbreaking farm labor. Behind them came his twenty-year-old brother, Leon who shared Thomas’s messy black hair but carried a look of defeat from his own failed awakening and his eighteen-year-old sister, Elena, whose bright hazel eyes were wide with total disbelief.

The entire family sprinted down the lawn and slammed into Thomas, wrapping him in a fierce, suffocating group hug. Mary wept openly, burying her face into his shoulder while Arthur squeezed his arm with a trembling grip.

”Oh, my boy, my beautiful boy!” Mary sobbed, pulling back just enough to cup his face with her rough palms. ”We were so scared! We wanted to see you so badly, Thomas, but they wouldn’t let us near the academy towers. We are so, so sorry we couldn’t visit you at the infirmary. The guards at the gates screamed at us—they told us lesser-bloods aren’t allowed on academy grounds unless they are students or official soldiers.

”We tried three times, little bro,” Leon said, his voice thick with a mix of pride and lingering frustration at the kingdom’s cruelty. ”But the High-blood sentries treated us like stray dogs. We could only sit here in this house and pray that you’d wake up.”

Arthur nodded, a tear slipping down his weathered cheek as he looked at his youngest son. ”But you did it, Tom. A Grade A talent. You saved this family. You brought us out of the dirt.”

Thomas felt a heavy lump form in his throat as he held his family close. The sheer injustice of the Holy City barring his parents from his bedside burned inside him, but looking at their tear-stained, happy faces, he knew the system’s deception had been worth it. They were safe, and their new life had finally begun.