The Darkness System: Rise of the Broken Sovereign

The IGF. Kael leaned back in his seat. The Inter-Galactic Federation was the closest thing this sector had to a world government. They didn’t rule directly—too many planets, too many cultures, too many power centers for centralized control—but they held leverage. Economic sanctions. Trade restrictions. Military intervention when necessary.

They kept the big clans and families in check. The Vorn family, the Du Lac family, the Morrison family—all of them answered to IGF authority eventually. And the three great empires...

Kael couldn’t even imagine the power required to overshadow the Vorn dynasty, which had ruled for four centuries. But the three great empires did. And the IGF held power over them too.

The hierarchy in this cosmic web is insane.

”The inter-academy tournament this year will give great rewards, which will be announced at the event since even I myself do not know what will be given.” Dubois’s expression shifted slightly—something almost like anticipation. ”And the top four academies in the tournament will have access to an inheritance ground.”

The murmuring started immediately.

Inheritance ground. The words spread through the crowd like wildfire. Inheritance grounds were legendary—pockets of preserved reality left behind by ancient powers, containing techniques, treasures, and opportunities that couldn’t be found anywhere else. Access to one could change a cultivator’s entire trajectory.

”Over the past few decades this tournament has been held, it was meant to happen in both your first year and second year.” Dubois’s tone cooled slightly. ”But due to an issue with the IGF, it was cancelled.”

”Let me tell you this: Heaven’s Gate Academy has always been in the top four.” Her voice hardened. ”The last tournament, five years ago, we managed to emerge as the second runner-up academy under the leadership of Alex Du Lac.”

”This year, I will not tolerate any position not called first.”

The statement landed like a hammer. Students straightened in their seats.

”This year, Heaven’s Gate Academy will be number one.” Dubois smiled—it was the first emotion she’d shown, and it was terrifying in its certainty. ”And these twelve students are going to bring back the glory.”

Silence.

Then: ”Twelve? I thought it was seven—”

”Please come to the stage as you hear your name.” Dubois ignored the interruption completely.

”Number one: Karacus Drakemore.”

Applause. Polite, respectful, slightly intimidated. Karacus rose from his seat beside Kael and walked to the stage without a word, his white clothing somehow remaining immaculate despite the movement.

”Number two: Yenna Frostveil.”

More applause. Yenna emerged from the crowd with ice already crystallizing in her wake—a subtle display of power that made nearby students shift uncomfortably.

”Number three: Cassian Vale.”

Cassian strolled to the stage with his hands in his pockets, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else.

”Number four: Mason Croft.”

The War God descendant walked with the particular confidence of someone whose body was a weapon. His muscles seemed to move independently under his skin, and his eyes scanned the crowd with predatory assessment.

”Number five: Rue Moonveil.”

The applause shifted—louder, warmer, punctuated by wolf whistles and appreciative murmurs. Rue emerged with her cheeks slightly pink, nine tails curled shyly around her body.

He smiled back and started clapping with genuine enthusiasm.

”Number six: Kael Cassian Vorn.”

The sound that erupted wasn’t applause—it was a chant. Sage’s voice cut through the noise first: ”KAEL! KAEL!” Then others joined—students who’d watched his ranking matches, students who admired his fighting style, students who just liked cheering for the underdog who’d climbed from rank twenty-four to rank six.

Kael walked to the stage with aura.

”Number seven: Caelan Asten.”

The silver-haired swordsman approached the stage with quiet dignity.

”Number eight: Sage Moonveil.”

The chant shifted immediately: ”SAGE! SAGE! SAGE!”

Sage sat frozen in her seat, an expression of absolute horror on her face. ”Come on,” she muttered, almost crying. ”I don’t wanna go—”

Rue appeared at her side with a serene smile, grabbed her sister’s arm, and physically dragged her to the stage. Sage’s tails thrashed in protest the entire way, but she went—because Rue was the one person in the world she couldn’t say no to.

”Number nine: Isabella Vorn.”

Kael’s sister approached with calm grace, offering him a small nod as she took her place among the selected.

”Number ten: Aria Nightshade.”

Aria moved like shadow given form, silent and deadly.

”Number eleven: Rooley Slanders.”

The summoner bounced to the stage with manic energy, already grinning at the crowd.

”Number twelve: Zara Moror.”

The final name was spoken, and a girl Kael barely recognized walked to the stage.

Dangerous, if her ranking was any indication.

Vice Principal Dubois surveyed the twelve students standing before her.

”I’m surprised and proud to see not one, not two but six girls in the top twelve, and even two in the top five.” She smiled. ”This has never happened. Honestly, the top 12 is always dominated by boys which was starting to get on my nerve over the years.”

”Girl power!” The shout came from somewhere in the crowd, and suddenly the female students were on their feet, chanting and cheering, a wave of enthusiasm that spread through the auditorium like wildfire.

Dubois let it continue for a moment before raising her hand. Silence fell.

”This year, the tournament is going to be fire.” She stepped forward, addressing the twelve directly. ”The team will be led by the person with the best battle IQ, leadership skills, and experience on the field, based on the analysis of your various mission performances and duels.”

Kael wondered who it would be. Karacus was the strongest. Cassian had the most tactical mind. Yenna had the most combat experience—

”I present to you the leader of this squad.” Dubois turned to face the crowd, her voice rising. ”KAEL CASSIAN VORN.”

Kael’s expression froze.

The chant started immediately—thunderous, deafening, shaking the walls of the auditorium itself.

”KAEL! KAEL! KAEL! KAEL!”

VP Dubois leaned close, her voice dropping to something almost conspiratorial.

”Go and fuck that tournament for me.”

The crowd erupted.

Students were on their feet, screaming, chanting, their morale blazing like a supernova. The sound washed over Kael in waves, and he felt it—that infectious energy, that collective belief, that absolute certainty that they could do the impossible.

He smiled.

”Yeah,” he murmured, barely audible. ”I think I can do that.”