Avalon walked into the training center, his eyes remaining steady as he made his way to a door, which opened at his voice command. Inside, his eyes settled on a person deep in meditation at the center of the room.
This figure sat in a meditating position, his posture exuding an air of effortless confidence.
The air around this man hummed with an electric charge, an energy that set him apart from the ordinary. His broad shoulders and muscular frame commanded attention.
With a chiseled jawline and a scar, earned in a battle long past, cut across his cheek, a badge of honor that added to his rugged and battle-hardened appearance.
This man was Magnus Ravenstein, the Ravenstein’s Paragon. A powerhouse of humanity!
With a quietness, Avalon closed the distance, his steps echoing softly against the chamber’s walls.
As he drew near, he greeted the man with a respectful bow. “Father”
Magnus, though with closed eyes, acknowledged Avalon’s presence with a nod. His response was not without a hint of warning. “I hope you better have something worth this disturbance, Avalon.”
Avalon’s expression grew somber, his jaw clenching as he steeled himself for the weight of the words he was about to utter. “Ariel was killed,” he said.
Magnus’s eyes snapped open, his gaze sharp and piercing. “Repeat that,” he demanded, his tone cold and unyielding.
Avalon’s heart raced as he repeated the devastating news, “Ariel died.”
In an instant, the air seemed to fracture around them, a blur of motion and sound that was almost imperceptible. A supersonic punch landed with bone-crushing force, striking Avalon with an impact that left him reeling
Avalon’s body was sent hurtling through the air, crashing into the wall. The runes etched into the walls simply flickered, their intricate designs momentarily disturbed by the shockwave. The room was created to withstand Paragons, the force of the punch not nearly enough to damage it.
Avalon lay against the wall, his breath laboured, pain searing through his body. His eyes widened, his mind struggling to comprehend the sheer power of the strike.
He had faced battles as a Grandmaster-rank individual, a power earned through blood and sweat, but before his father, he felt like nothing.
Magnus remained unmoved, still seated in a meditating position. His very presence radiated an aura of dominance, an embodiment of the power that a Paragon wielded. Avalon, a feared demon of the battlefield, lay humbled by a single strike, such was the power of a Paragon!
Moving from Grandmaster rank to Paragon was a monumental leap in the realm of power, a transformation that surpasses the limits of human potential; a metamorphosis that grants an
individual access to an unprecedented wellspring of strength, propelling them into the extraordinary.
At this rank, the augmentation of mana and stats were like floodgates of an untapped reservoir that had been thrust open, releasing a torrent of energy that courses through all matter. But the shift is not solely quantitative. The transition from Grandmaster-rank to Paragon-rank carries a qualitative transformation as well.
To attain Grandmaster rank, one must excel in the complex skill of establishing a domain, a realm of power that holds control over their abilities and manipulates the very essence of existence.
However, achieving the status of a Paragon requires more than just establishing a domain. It demands embodying one’s power in a manner that surpasses mere mastery, transforming into a living embodiment of their capabilities.
Every aspect of their existence, every thought, every action, is saturated with the essence of their power. This fusion of self and ability results in a convergence that goes beyond mere technique or skill.
The difference between Grandmaster-rank and Paragon ranks was just too great. That’s why it wasn’t a surprise to see Avalon not put up a fight. Avalon knelt before Magnus, silent acknowledgment of the weight of his failures.
“You mean to tell me you couldn’t even protect the family!?” Magnus voice was a full of anger, each word dripping with disappointment. “Did I make a mistake making you the position of family head?” His words hung in the air, cutting Avalon to the bone.
Avalon’s hands clenched into fists at his sides, his teeth gritted in raw pain. “I… I’m sorry,” he admitted, filled with regret.
Magnus’s eyes bore into him, a silent challenge that demanded answers. “Who killed him?” His voice was a thunderous command, a demand for accountability.
“We’re still searching,” Avalon responded.
In an instant, Magnus aura surged forward with an overwhelming force that slammed into Avalon. He was sent sprawling to the ground, his body pinned by the weight of Magnus’ power. He gasped for breath, the pressure almost suffocating.
After a few agonizing seconds, the pressure lifted, and Avalon struggled to push himself upright. His heart pounded in his chest, his body aching from the hit.
Avalon’s voice cut through the aftermath, his words carrying an edge. “But we suspect the Obsidian Order” He continued, with blood oozing out of his mouth.
“I think it’s about time I made my reappearance,” Magnus declared, his tone laced with anger. “It seems people no longer fear the Ravensteins anymore.”
“Call a family meeting,” Magnus demanded, “Attendance is mandatory.”
In the Ravenstein family, numerous branch families interwove to create a complex whole. Each branch played a vital role in upholding the family’s legacy, their unique roles contributing to the formidable reputation that the Ravensteins held.
There were individuals who devoted themselves to the complex network of trade and business. These astute members of the Ravenstein family navigated the ever-changing tides of markets and economies, ensuring that their prosperity and power were maintained.
With a sharp awareness for opportunities and a grasp of global dynamics, they established relationships that reached across various industries and safeguarded the family’s economic security.
They manage the Ravencrest Consortium, a hegemon in the human domain and report directly to the main family.
The branch family devoted to martial excellence produced highly skilled and disciplined warriors who were unmatched in their abilities. Through intense training and a commitment to their craft, these warriors became powerful protectors, guarding the family’s interests with unwavering loyalty. They symbolized the family’s strength, carrying on a legacy of martial tradition that spanned generations. Known as the Raven Vanguard, these elite warriors directly served the main family with unwavering loyalty.
In the shadows, a branch family dedicated to intellect and manipulating data diligently to acquire confidential information, decode enigmatic communications, and unveil concealed realities. Proficient in espionage and trickery, the Ravensteins effectively utilized information as a formidable tool, securing their superiority over competitors and foes.
They are known as the, Silent Nexus and only report to the family head. While there were other branches that existed, these families stood as the primary force within the Ravenstein lineage. Through their united endeavors, the Ravensteins upheld their esteemed legacy of unparalleled influence and revered strength.
Avalon acknowledged his father with a bow, then he got up and left the room, with a slight limp. After witnessing Avalon’s departure, Magnus gaze shifted to the ground, his eyes closing in a moment of reflection.
A wave of sadness washed over him, lines creasing face.
A heavy sigh escaped his lips, as he acknowledged the depth of Avalon’s burden. “It wasn’t your fault, Avalon,” he murmured, his words laced with a quiet reassurance. “You didn’t fail him, I did.”
In an instant, his aura flared to life, a fierce resolve to avenge the fallen. The room seemed to quiver in response, trembling as if acknowledging the force that Magnus had unleashed.
“The Obsidian Order”, he said, his voice heavy and rough with loathe. Runes etched into the walls shimmered, their symbols glowing with an inner light as if stirred by Magnus’s power.
