BXBX NOVEL Chapter 1 1: Val, The Unfeeling!
This humble pool seemed to be holding a mirror to the heavens, reflecting the magnificent sight above.
The sky was painted with two moons, one as pure and bright as freshly fallen snow and the other, a deep crimson hue that seemed to pulse with an otherworldly energy as if it held some untold secrets.
These otherworldly glows of the moons streamed through the open windows, flooding the room with a magical, silvery light. Amidst this ethereal illumination, the enchanting features of a young lad came into the spotlight.
The lad, who seemed to be barely out of his teens, boasted a pair of dark, hypnotic eyes. His eyes were harboring a magnetic pull that could captivate anyone who dared to meet his gaze. A cascade of raven-black hair hung over his forehead in a charming fringe, adding to his mysterious charm. His handsome features, a blend of sharp contours, a commanding jawline, and high cheekbones, emitted an aura of unspoken authority. His thin lips and aristocratic nose lent him an aura that bordered on the divine.
Every detail of his appearance seemed sculpted to perfection, as if he was handcrafted by the gods themselves.
But beneath this flawless exterior, there was an undercurrent of an unspoken darkness, mirrored in his emotionless stare that seemed eerily similar to the lifeless gaze of a corpse and an air of danger that seemed to shroud him in something that could only be described as utter madness!
His presence, one could say, was akin to a bloodthirsty beast!
A mere glance at him in this state, and one might think twice before daring to approach him. Those faint of heart could be sent running in fear at the sight of him.
He was Val V. Whitemore, the second son of the head of the Whitemore Family.
This was a side of him hidden away from public scrutiny. In the company of others, he would don a mask of stoicism, his true self concealed behind a facade more suited to a socialite. He was alone at this moment, thus there was no need for pretenses, hence why his authentic self stood revealed.
His striking good looks were accentuated by his attire, which consisted of a sleek black tailcoat, trousers that mirrored the coat, a crisp white shirt with its high collar and cuffs, a neat waistcoat, a delicately knotted cravat, and glossy black leather shoes polished to perfection. His tailored ensemble exuded refinement and elegance, a stark contrast to his brooding demeanor.
And, despite this calculated effort, the overall appearance seemed as natural to him as breathing. It didn't make him seem pretentious.
In this day and age, silk was a token of lavish luxury, savored only by society's elite, yet, every inch of his attire was spun from the finest silk. It showcased that he had an extraordinary identity.
It wouldn't be a stretch to deduce that he hailed from an affluent family!
Based on what he was wearing, it seemed as if he had just returned from a formal occasion.
And indeed, he had.
With a sigh that seemed to carry the weight of the world, Val V. Whitemore mused,
'The Bloodline Awakening ritual, meant to be my springboard to greatness, ended up being the push that led to my downfall.'
Today was a significant day for the Whitemore clan - the crimson moon worshipping day. It was a day that marked the awakening of the bloodline of all 16-year-olds in the Whitemore family.
The bloodline of the Whitemores could only be awakened using the witch's potion.
Potions in this world could be used to gain, awaken, or evolve bloodline.
Awakening though was only possible for those who were descendants of bloodline users.
The witch's potion was infamous for its dangerous nature. It was only when the Whitemores turned 16, deemed mentally and physically robust enough to withstand its corruptive tendencies, that they could try to awaken as skill users. Even then, the path to success wasn't guaranteed, and failure spelled a fate worse than death.
Thus, only when a Whitemore was 16 years old would they be allowed to undergo the dangerous ritual.
There were indeed alternative potions that could bestow one with a unique bloodline and accompanying skill, but for a Whitemore, such potions were a death sentence. Their own bloodline, dormant or active, would violently reject the new potion's effects, resulting in a fatal explosion that would explode their bodies and also harm those nearby.
Val recalled what happened today.
After taking the witch's potion, those among the Whitemores who were not able to fend off the potion's corruption faced a horrific transformation.
From humans, they transformed into creatures void of any semblance of humanity, only to be promptly killed by the bloodline users of the Whitemores.
Yet, the ones who had successfully resisted the potion's sinister influence had their bloodline awakened, and they obtained bloodline skills, which resulted in their status in the Whitemore hierarchy skyrocketing.
Val had also taken part in this year's bloodline awakening ritual.
Val, with his impressive track record in academics and athletics since a young age, was the golden boy of the Whitemores. Their expectations were high, fully convinced that he'd unlock some powerful skill indigenous to their lineage. After all, how excellent one was before awakening their bloodline determined how high their chances were of awakening their bloodline.
However, destiny had a different script to follow.
Despite Val's years' worth of best efforts, impeccable lineage, and the aid of the witch's potion, he was met with silence from his own blood!
Normally, a Whitemore would either awaken their whitemore bloodline or transform into a monster. But Val experienced nothing - no corruption or awakening - after taking the witch's potion!
A case like Val's was really rare, unprecedented even!
It left countless bewildered and disappointed!
'Talented young master falling from grace at the age of 16... this beginning is oddly familiar to the web novels I have read in my past life,' Val thought.