Ice bit into Laim's bare ankles, sharp and unforgiving. Shivering violently, he pressed his back deeper into the moldering brick wall of the alley. Hunger clawed at his stomach, a physical weight dragging him down into the frozen mud. --- Velmora's slums did not permit survival for the weak. Breath rose in thin, pale puffs of steam, vanishing into the gray, soot-heavy sky. His fingers, numb and blackened at the tips, curled around a jagged shard of glass he'd salvaged from a pile of frozen trash. Every day in this gutter was a battle against the elements and the rot of the city. Trusting anyone was a luxury he couldn't afford, a lesson carved into his mind by years of isolation. Grand Duke Valerius, his biological father, had made sure of that when he threw him out like garbage. Whispers of the grand estate still haunted Laim's dreams, but the cold reality of the slums always woke him. Today, the bitter wind seemed louder, carrying the scent of impending doom. --- Footsteps suddenly shattered the quiet of the empty alley. Metal scraped against stone, a heavy, rhythmic sound that made Laim's blood run cold. Laim's gray eyes narrowed, his analytical mind immediately calculating the distance and speed of the intruders. Three men rounded the corner, their massive figures blocking the pale light. Heavy iron plates clanked with every movement, bearing the polished crest of a howling wolf. "Found him," the leader grunted, his voice dripping with sadistic pleasure. Crimson cloaks fluttered behind them, marking them as the elite guards of House Valerius. House Valerius had finally sent its clean-up crew to erase the Duke's ultimate embarrassment. Commander Vance stepped forward, his face scarred and his eyes devoid of any human warmth. "Look at this pathetic rat," Vance sneered, resting his hand on the hilt of his broadsword. Slowly, Laim stood up, refusing to cower before his father's lapdogs. His jaw clenched so tight his teeth threatened to crack, a single vein pulsing angrily at his temple. "Did the Grand Duke finally find the courage to face me himself?" Laim asked, his voice raw. Vance chuckled, a dry, grating sound that echoed off the damp brick walls. "Your existence is a stain on the Duke's flawless bloodline," the commander replied. Steel hissed as Vance drew his heavy broadsword, the polished metal reflecting the dismal sky. Two guards moved to flank Laim, cutting off any possible route of escape. Laim's analytical gaze swept the alley, searching for a loose brick, a weak point, anything. Escaping was mathematically impossible, but he refused to die without a fight. He tightened his grip on the glass shard, ignoring the sharp pain as it sliced his palm. "Do you think your little toy can save you?" Vance mocked, stepping closer. "I stopped expecting things to save me a long time ago," Laim muttered. Vance sneered, raising the massive blade high above his head, ready to end it. Down came the broadsword, slicing through the air with lethal, blinding speed. Laim lunged forward, aiming his glass shard at the gap in Vance's collarbone armor. --- Suddenly, a deafening crack shattered the silence of the slums. Violet light exploded between Laim and the descending blade, bright and blinding. Shockwaves rippled through the narrow alley, throwing Vance and his guards backward into the snow. A violent violet dimensional rift ruptured the air between them, bathing the alley in an eerie, humming pressure. Wind howled through the newly formed tear in reality, carrying an unnatural heat. Screaming in terror, the guards shielded their eyes from the pulsing, unstable energy. Laim fell to his knees, gasping as a sudden, agonizing heat bloomed in his chest. Agonizing pain radiated through his veins, as if molten metal were being poured into his blood. He clutched his shirt, feeling his heart hammer wildly against his ribs. This was the forbidden lineage, the dormant power of the Soul Contract awakening within him. Swirling violet energy inside the rift pulsed, revealing a chaotic, endless void. Deep within the spatial tear, a single, glowing, ethereal thread of purple light floated toward him. Instinctively, Laim reached his hand into the dimensional rift, drawn to the thread. "Stop him!" Vance roared, struggling to stand against the crushing pressure. "Kill him before he touches it!" the commander screamed to his panicked men. Guard soldiers lunged forward with their swords, but the violent wind threw them back again. Purple lightning arced from the rift, leaving scorch marks on the frozen ground. Laim's fingers finally closed around the glowing, ethereal thread of violet light. Before he could react, the violet light solidifies into a physical, burning chain of light that wraps around Laim's wrist, dragging a bleeding, silver-haired warrior-princess out of the rift who gasps, "What have you done to my soul?"

Chapter 1: Ashes of the Noble Bloodline