When Natsu saw Anant open his eyes, she immediately leaned forward slightly, her expression turning gentle yet attentive.
"Inhale… and exhale," she said softly. "It was probably exhausting."
From her perspective, what she saw on his face was simple—
A child overwhelmed by newly acquired knowledge.
His slightly unfocused gaze, the faint stiffness in his posture, the subtle tension in his expression—
All of it matched what she had experienced herself when she first learned through the Fundamental Ruin Circle.
She had no idea—
That what Anant experienced was something entirely different.
Anant followed her instructions.
Slowly—
He inhaled. Then exhaled. Again. And again.
His breathing stabilized. The faint tension in his face softened. Though internally— His thoughts were anything but calm.
'That egg…'
But he pushed it aside for now.
' I'll deal with that later.'
"Okay!" Natsu clapped her hands lightly, her usual energy returning. "Let's continue our study session."
She turned back to the book.
"We still have around three more hours, I think. That should be enough for an introduction to the Vatsya lineage."
As she spoke, she flipped through several pages— Carefully and Respectfully.
Because the book in her hands— was not ordinary.
It was a treasure of the Duchy. A sacred artifact.
Its history was as important as life itself to the Vatsya lineage.
This book Had been given to the founder of the duchy by three ancient gods.
A divine record. A living archive.
From the very first ancestor—
To the current descendants—
Every member of the Vatsya bloodline was inscribed within it.
And now, Anant would be added to that same record.
Not just as a name. But as a continuation of the lineage.
And along with that He would be shown a glimpse of the founder's history.
The origin of everything.
The name— Samaya.
Natsu stopped flipping pages.
"There," she said.
On the open page Was a square formation.
Perfectly aligned.
Inside the square—
Were smaller sections.
Each filled with numbers.
Symbols.
Arranged with precise intent.
Natsu pointed at it.
"Pour a bit of blood onto the formation," she explained.
"As you already know, you'll be registered in the book."
Her voice carried a tone of routine familiarity.
"And immediately after that, your consciousness will enter the book."
She smiled slightly.
"You'll witness the actions and adventures of our ancestor— Founder Samaya."
-
Anant nodded.
His face showed a faint hesitation.
A slight unease.
Not because he feared blood.
Not because he didn't understand.
But because—
He had already experienced far worse.
Still—
He maintained the act.
A three-year-old's discomfort.
Natsu noticed.
---
"Don't worry," she said gently. "It won't hurt much."
She reassured him with a soft tone.
"And your consciousness will drift into the book immediately anyway, so you won't feel the pain."
After hearing her words—
Anant gave a small nod.
Then—
He reached for the needle.
Holding it carefully in his small hand—
He pierced his finger.
A tiny hole formed.
A drop of blood emerged.
Then another.
He moved his hand above the formation—
And let the drops fall.
One.
Two.
Three.
---
The moment the third drop touched the formation—
Everything went dark.
Anant felt his consciousness slip.
And then he opened his eyes.
He was in the sky. He was Floating. He felt Weightless.
Below him The world unfolded.
To be honest, He had already heard most of these stories. From his parents. From passing conversations. This ritual— Was more of a tradition than a necessity. Every descendant had to undergo it.
On the first day— They would witness important events for three hours.
As they grew older— More of the story would become accessible.
This limitation existed for a reason.
The history recorded within the book— Was not gentle.
It contained— Politics. War. Gore. Philosophy.
Things a three-year-old mind could not handle or so it was believed.
But Anant was not an ordinary child.
Parajay— Who had lived through one hundred reincarnations.
Who had experienced lifetimes stretching across what felt like millions of years—
For him, Three hours were insignificant.
Like a virus, in front of a galaxy.
He looked down. And what he saw was war.
Endless war.
The sky was filled with beasts—
Wyverns.
Bats.
Thunderbirds.
Hippogriffs.
They clashed mid-air— Claws tearing through flesh. Wings breaking under impact. Roars shaking the earth and heavens.
On the ground— Knights charged. Armor clashed. Swords collided.
Archers released arrows in waves— Darkening the sky.
Mages stood behind— casting powerful spells.
Explosions of fire. Storms of lightning. Walls of ice.
Magic swordsmen moved like blurs their blades glowing with energy.
And everywhere was Blood. It flowed across the battlefield.
Pooling.
Spreading.
Bodies lay scattered.
Humans. Beasts. And demons.
But Anant noticed something strange.
All the demons were already dead. Their corpses littered the ground.
None moved. None fought.
'…Odd.'
While observing the chaos, He also found himself thinking.
'This… isn't what they described.'
His father, his family elders, his four brothers, his two sisters— none of them had ever spoken of such a battlefield.
What they saw— Had been different.
Less Extreme. Less Brutal.
But here, this was pure carnage.
Unfiltered.
Then Something changed.
From the west, a presence approached.
That presence was a full-fledged dragon.
It flew across the sky— Massive. Dominant.
Unlike the other flying beasts, this one commanded fear.
The moment it appeared—
Everything changed.
Beasts fled. Chaos turned into panic.
"Look there! A dragon has appeared— run for your lives!"
Voices echoed across the battlefield.
Both sides— Retreated.
No one dared stand against it. The dragon did not chase those who fled.
It simply flew forward Calmly.
But some fools remained.
A few hundred warriors— refusing to run.
They attacked. The dragon responded.
It opened its mouth And released flames.
Not massive. Not overwhelming.
Each breath was only the size of a football.
But there were many. A dozen Or more.
And the moment those flames touched the attackers—
They died instantly.
No resistance. No struggle. Just— Ash.
Silence fell. The battlefield emptied.
The dragon descended, landing slowly on the ground.
Its massive form cast a shadow over everything.
It looked around. Quiet. Observing. As if searching for something. Or someone.
Anant watched. Anant was confused.
'Why… is it behaving like this...?' His thought.
After a few moments— The dragon took off again then left.
Returning— To the west.
The scene shifted. The battlefield disappeared.
And Anant found himself— Elsewhere.
Before him— Stood two dragons. Mighty. Ancient.
Their presence alone— Felt overwhelming.
Then, one of them spoke, "A descendant of Vatsya… huh."
Its voice was deep. Resonant. And unlike the dragon from before, these two— the one who spoke and the one who looked puzzled were different.