Chapter 8: The Will of the world

Words : 1005 Updated : Sep 20th, 2025

Chapter 8 of "My Devourer System: Rise of the Bastard Son" opens presenting key developments: Chapter 8: The Will of the world Lucen turned, meeting his step-brother’s venomous glare with a... Read on!

Chapter 8: The Will of the world Lucen turned, meeting his step-brother’s venomous glare with a weak smile. He gave the dark-haired boy a firm nod and a mock salute. Set’s fists quivered as they tightened. "You, your insults to this family seem to show no end. Bow your head. Or face the consequences." "There will be no consequences. Brother," Lucen muttered to himself. Set lunged at him, ignoring Ymir’s plea, "Stop, Set! He only seeks your anger!" "Then he’ll have it," Set snarled, clasping the neck of his cloak. "I’ll preserve my father’s honour." Lucen wondered to himself why he was being so purposely confrontational. He could bow to the petulant child, and he would lose nothing. Well, except his pride, and he also didn’t like Set’s dumb face. Set extended his hand back as though pulling something from the air, and a wicked sword materialised. Its blade was a black, curved talon, and its hilt glowed with inscribed runes. Lucen’s breath turned sharp as he used [Breath of rage]—a skill he gained at the beginning of the year—and disarmed the boy. It was pitifully simple. He grabbed the crossguard and shoved Set back, sending him to the ground. He only had a second to study the Runes before the blade disappeared from his hand. A soul-bound weapon, he guessed. Heimar treated his true son well. Weapons that could hold Soul-binding Runes were powerful and often the stuff of heroes. Ymir helped her brother up, only to be pushed aside as Set’s pupil shrank to dots. "Filthy Mudborn, you dare lay your hands on me?" Lucen turned around and began walking away. He hated conflict. "You and your whore mother will pay for what you have done." Lucen stopped. "You couldn’t let it end there, could you?" Quite frankly, he always hated children. They were loud, insufferable gits that everyone had to forgive and tolerate. As a fellow foolish child, well, Lucen couldn’t control himself sometimes. Be it his growing body or undeveloped brain, he often felt like an adult or a mindless toy. He was onto Set before his mind registered the first punch. He purposely punched him the second time, though—the look on his face was too precious. Then the crisp air became heavy and uncomfortable. Lucen raised his head to see his Grand-uncle Duran, livid with anger. "Get off him." Lucen didn’t see Duran much, but he knew to fear the oldest of the Patriarch’s sons. The air on the walkway had gotten colder, and a surly cloud seemed to blot the light of the Halo. As he stood, Ymir held a crying Set back from rushing towards him. "Mudborn... Halfblood piece of shit, I’ll..." "Respect yourself, Set," Duran warned coldly, "Follow me, all of you." ■——■ Duran led them into the main building. Its dark, cavernous halls were lit by massive torches bright enough to light up city streets. On the staircase, handrails rose over them like pillars, and each step was low and extremely wide. Lucen had a small theory that the Keep had been built by giants, but there were no records of civilisation among the brutish creatures. Soon, they were tired of climbing up different stairs and walking down long hallways. That was when they reached their destination. Two towering knights stood at the front of a grand door, pushing it open as they approached. Inside was a simple office with a large, beautifully crafted mahogany desk at its center and two doors at the sides of the office. Two ladies dressed in plain clothes sat on smaller desks beside each door. Duran addressed them solemnly. "Leave, and inform the servant heads that I will take no other visitors for the rest of the day." Lucen swallowed hard, this would definitely affect his plan today. "Uncle," Set cried, "He’s the one that—" "Silence yourself." His voice was painfully clear and quiet, but it held that irresistible power that all authority figures of the Elaris empire had. It was authority given to them by god to command. "Kneel, stretch out your hands." As the ladies scurried behind the two doors as Duran retrieved his cane. Ymir took two strokes, and she was already shaking and weeping silently. Set received four, breathing hard to hold back his tears—well, the ones not already out. Lucen, as he expected, received twenty. He started crying after the tenth, not only because his body said so, but also to soften Duran’s heart. But the man’s heart was made of stone, very wicked stone at that. They were left kneeling as Duran returned to his desk, muttering. "Fighting—like animals—in public. Your parents ought to be ashamed. You dishonour yourselves, and I will have none of it!" They remained on their knees for hours. Ymir had long stopped crying, and Set gave up on glaring at him. Lucen was furious, not only at himself for rising to Set’s foolishness, but also at Duran and his ridiculous sensibilities and, most of all, this world’s rules. Because Lucen would have stood and left after the first hour, but now he was subject to Duran’s stupidity. No matter what, Lucen’s first priority was to live far away from anyone who could command him. He had one of his lives ruined by petty humans already. The great doors opened, a terrible groan seeping into the stone, and Koril crossed their borders. "I think that’s enough for today, brother." "I do not take orders from you," Duran said tightly. "Father’s order was that Lucen enter the Golden cage every day," Koril said simply, walking to Lucen. "Stand, let’s go." He followed the order immediately, though it stung, and stood. His legs were numb and heavy, but he followed Koril out of the office. "Stop," Duran ordered. But Lucen felt no compulsion to follow his will over Koril’s. Once again, he was happy not to obey Duran, but was stung by Koril’s authority. This couldn’t last for long. One of them had to break, Lucen’s will or the world.

Chapter 8: The Will of the world

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