NOVPUBDonovan's signature technique was Veilhand, yet, the energy he had awakened and trained was anything but subtle—it was pure, unyielding force.
When he first entered Frostveil Cavern, he felt nothing at all.
What others called "bone-chilling cold" was nothing more than a light breeze to him. A simple release of his energy, enveloping his body, and he could sleep there as if it were a warm bed.
Three days into his stay in Frostveil Cavern, his nephew, Liam Silverwood, came to visit.
Liam brought fine wine and a hearty meal. Over dinner, he asked Liam about the Ninth Division and the Noble Families.
With a troubled expression, Liam told him they were still around.
Donovan nodded without much reaction. It didn't really matter. This place was no different from the outside world anyway.
…
After finishing the meal and drinks, he sent Liam away. On the seventh day, Liam returned with more food and drink.
The tenth day… the fifteenth… the thirtieth…
Three months passed, and Liam continued to visit him at regular intervals, until the last time—when Liam arrived, they ate and drank as usual.
Then Liam said, "The people from Ninth Division and the Noble Families are finally gone."
Hearing this, Donovan was pleased. Without hesitation, he followed Liam out of Frostveil Cavern.
The moment he stepped outside, to his shock, he saw someone.
Surprised, Donovan asked, "Luna? What are you doing here? Who let you into this restricted area?"
Luna was also a younger member of the family—Lyla's father's sister, the third-born of that generation, making her Lyla's aunt.
She had long been married off, and unless it was a major event, married daughters weren't allowed to return to Hidden Territory, let alone step foot into a restricted zone.
With a wide, almost forced smile, Luna beamed at him. "Uncle Donovan, I just wanted to see you! It's a big day since you're finally leaving Frostveil!"
"Oh?" Donovan narrowed his eyes, skeptical.
He didn't bother himself with family politics, but old age had made him quite sharp. He shot her a long, deep look before turning to leave.
Then—suddenly—an intense gust of wind rushed toward his face. Donovan instinctively dodged to the side.
Ding—!
A steel needle grazed past his nose and embedded itself into the rock wall behind him.
It sank two inches into the solid stone.
His expression darkened. "Lachlan?"
The moment he saw the needle fly past his face, he knew exactly who had attacked him.
Fury flared in his eyes. "Eighth Brother, what the hell do you think you're doing? You itching for a beating?"
Lachlan Silverwood stepped out from behind a stone outcrop, chuckling. "Now, now, Donovan. I am still your elder brother. Is that any way to address me?"
"Cut the crap, Lachlan. Get lost before I break your face."
Donovan had never gotten along with his eighth brother, even as children.
Even their energies were completely opposite—one was pure, blazing strength, while the other was dark and elusive.
Lachlan's smirk widened. "Oh? Beat me? Donovan, I'm afraid you won't be able to do that today."
Before his words had even faded, he lunged forward, palm striking straight at Donovan's chest.
Donovan frowned. Something was off. Usually, Lachlan avoided him like the plague, but today… today was different.
Something wasn't right.
Within their generation, only three of them were still alive. The eldest, Lucian Silverwood, was Lyla's grandfather and still the head of the family. The rest of their brothers had long since died.
Facing Lachlan's incoming strike, Donovan didn't even flinch.
Lachlan was lazy and unfocused. Despite his natural talent, he never trained properly.
His actual combat skills were garbage at best.
Scoffing, Donovan clasped one hand behind his back and casually raised the other.
Boom!
Something completely unexpected happened.
Thud! Thud! Thud!
Donovan staggered backward over ten steps, his eyes filled with disbelief.
"What…?" He couldn't believe it. When did Lachlan become this strong?
Lachlan, seeing his reaction, smirked, crossing his arms as he looked at him.
"Donovan, you're too weak—just like that old man."
Donovan froze.
There was no need to ask who he meant. The "old man" was their eldest brother—Lucian Silverwood, the current family head.
Lucian's strength was beyond question—Donovan knew this better than anyone. But now, he was hearing from Lachlan's own mouth… that Lucian was weak?
Something was wrong.
Donovan steadied his breath, prepared to unleash his energy and strike again, but suddenly, blood gushed from his mouth.
"Hahaha…" Lachlan burst into laughter at the sight.
"How does it feel? The Bloodfire Venom isn't easy to deal with, is it? I'd advise you not to circulate your energy. The more you do, the faster it'll consume you.
You have no idea how hard it was to find something that could actually kill you. That overwhelming energy of yours—it's damn near immune to all toxins.
But you never expected that something worth a fortune, something as rare as the Sunfire Root—would become your greatest weakness, did you?
Combined with your energy, it transforms into Bloodfire Venom."
Donovan stared at his once timid, spineless brother—now standing before him, arrogant and unrestrained.
Rage surged through him, and another mouthful of blood spilled from his lips.
Clutching his chest, he wiped the blood from his mouth before turning his gaze to Liam, who stood quietly off to the side.
"You… were the one who poisoned me?"
Liam's eyes flickered slightly. In a calm voice, he replied, "Uncle Donovan, I only meant to bring you some supplements. Besides… it was the Patriarch himself who gave me permission to enter the restricted area."
"Patriarch?" Donovan was stunned.
Lachlan chuckled darkly. "Oh, you know—our dear eldest brother. But… he's already gone ahead of you to meet the ancestors."
Buzz— Donovan's mind went blank.
Impossible. His big brother—Lucian, the head of the family—was dead?
"How did he die?"
The answer was already clear in Donovan's heart, yet he still asked.
Luna spoke next, her tone casual.
"No need to ask. You can go ask him yourself. Lachlan, stop wasting time. The longer we wait, the more things can go wrong."
She held a long, black needle, over twenty centimeters in length.
Donovan's eyes darkened. "You even took the Soul Locking Needle from the ancestral hall?"
His voice trembled, not in fear, but in anger.
"You people are vicious. You're not just trying to kill me—you want me to be your little puppet in death too?"
"Dream on!"
Donovan knew—this was the end for him.
But if they thought he would let them use him, they were dead wrong.
A surge of energy erupted from within him—his lifeblood condensed rapidly. In an instant, his hair and beard turned white, his skin shriveled, and his body withered.
Then—
"Ptoo—!"
A golden orb shot out of his mouth and vanished into Frostveil Cavern. His vision blurred, and his body slowly collapsed.
"Donovan—!" Lachlan's face twisted in horror. This wasn't supposed to happen!
He had spent years coveting Donovan's energy, hoping to steal it for himself.
Now, it was gone.
In desperation, Lachlan roared, "Liam! Get inside and retrieve his Essence Pearl!"
Without hesitation, Liam nodded and rushed into Frostveil Cavern.
Luna, standing over Donovan's frail body, twirled the black needle in her fingers.
She smirked and spoke slowly.
"Uncle Donovan, stop struggling. You're not a Soul-Wielder. You don't have the power to resist. Even if you die here, your soul won't fade so quickly."
"That's why we have the Soul Locking Needle—it'll keep you in place."
By now, Donovan was on the brink of death, unable to speak.
Luna chuckled coldly.
"You should've just accepted it. Even the family head was turned into a vessel. What's the point of struggling?"
With that, she drove the Soul Locking Needle straight into Donovan's forehead. Only an inch of the needle remained visible on the surface—its tip vibrating violently.
