The palace was quiet that afternoon.
Draven stood alone in the private study attached to their royal chambers. The heavy wooden doors were closed. Sunlight filtered through the tall arched windows, casting long golden beams across the marble floor. Outside, the gardens bloomed peacefully, but inside this room, the air felt heavier — charged with anticipation and the faint, ancient hum of power.
The sealed iron box rested on the large oak table in the centre of the room.
It looked deceptively simple — a rectangular iron container, unmarked, unadorned, with no visible lock, hinge, or seam. Yet Draven could feel the power radiating from it. It pulsed slowly, like a second heartbeat in the room, in perfect sync with the treasure already merged inside his chest.
Seraphina had wanted to stay with him, but Draven had gently asked her to wait outside with Sero.
"This might be dangerous," he had told her softly, kissing her forehead. "I don't want to risk you or the baby. Let me try first."
She had nodded, though her eyes were worried. "Be careful. And call me the moment anything happens."
Now, Draven was alone with the box.
He circled it slowly, studying every inch. The metal was cold to the touch, yet it seemed to draw warmth from his fingers. No runes were visible on the surface, but when he focused, faint lines of energy shimmered just beneath the iron — too deep to read clearly.
"System," Draven said quietly. "Help me open it."
The System's voice responded immediately, calm and precise.
[Understood, Host. The Sealed Box is protected by multiple layers of ancient binding magic. Direct force will trigger defensive measures. I will guide you step by step.]
Draven placed both hands on the lid.
"Begin," he said.
[First layer: Resonance check. Channel a small amount of your own mana into the box. Do not force it. Let it flow naturally.]
Draven closed his eyes and did as instructed. A gentle stream of his energy — warm and golden from the First Lineage treasure — flowed from his palms into the iron.
The box vibrated faintly. For a moment, nothing happened. Then a soft click echoed inside the metal, like a lock shifting.
[First layer disengaged. Second layer: Pattern recognition. The box requires a specific sequence of mana signatures. I will display the pattern in your vision. Follow it exactly.]
A glowing diagram appeared in Draven's mind — a complex series of spirals and intersecting lines. He concentrated, moving his fingers across the surface of the box as if tracing invisible runes in the air.
The box responded. Small sparks of light danced across the iron, forming and fading in time with his movements.
[Third layer: Blood resonance. The box is keyed to the bloodline of the First Lineage. You must offer a drop of your blood willingly.]
Draven hesitated. "Is there any risk?"
[Minimal. But the box is unpredictable. Proceed with caution.]
He drew a small dagger from his belt and made a tiny cut on the tip of his index finger. A single drop of blood welled up, bright red.
He held his finger over the centre of the lid and let the drop fall.
The blood hit the iron with a soft plink.
Nothing happened.
Draven frowned. "System?"
[The drop was accepted. Fourth layer activating. This is the final seal. It requires complete focus. Do not break concentration.]
Draven placed both hands firmly on the box again. He closed his eyes and poured his will into it — every memory of the Hearts, every moment of the journey, every promise he had made to Seraphina and their unborn child.
The box began to tremble.
A low hum filled the room. The iron surface grew warmer under his palms. Faint golden lines appeared along the edges, glowing brighter and brighter.
Draven's breathing remained steady. Sweat beaded on his forehead.
The hum grew louder.
Then — without warning — a sharp edge on the box's rim shifted slightly, catching the side of his finger.
A small cut opened — deeper than the first one. Blood welled up instantly.
Draven hissed in pain but didn't pull away.
A single, fat drop of blood fell from his finger and landed directly on the centre of the lid.
The moment the blood touched the iron, the box reacted violently.
A brilliant white-gold light erupted from the box, so intense that Draven had to shield his eyes. The entire study filled with blinding radiance. The hum became a deep, resonant tone that vibrated through his bones.
The box began to glow — not just on the surface, but from within, as if something alive was waking up inside it.
Draven stepped back, hand still bleeding, eyes wide.
The light pulsed once… twice… growing stronger with every beat.
The chapter ends here — on the sealed box glowing brightly after the drop of Draven's blood fell onto it, the light filling the entire study, the ancient power inside finally beginning to stir.
To be continued…