Lucas's eyes flew open. In a panic, he rolled out of bed and crashed onto the floor. His eyes darted around the room, scanning everything with wild caution.
No zombies were trying to kill him.
No vast fields of corpses and blood underfoot.
No giant floating eyeball silently watching an endless massacre with him as the star of the show.
And yet, every instinct screamed that he was still in danger.
The room looked familiar—like somewhere he'd been before.
It was the school infirmary, a place he'd visited far too often after being beaten up by bullies.
Scooting back until his spine hit the wall, Lucas desperately searched for anything to use as a weapon. That's when his eyes landed on a beautiful woman in a white uniform—someone who looked like a nurse. Someone he recognized.
Vanessa Carlton, the nurse, sighed and looked at Lucas with a mix of pity and concern. She already knew what had happened—she'd heard everything from Nathan and Alan, Simon's close friends.
While Lucas's actions couldn't be fully justified, Vanessa understood. She had treated his wounds countless times after he was attacked by bullies.
'Looks like he's still in shock,' she thought.
Slowly, she stepped forward, raising her hands in a calming gesture.
"It's okay now. You're safe. No one's going to hurt you. I'm Vanessa, the nurse who usually takes care of you. Do you remember me?"
Before she could get any closer, Lucas suddenly lunged forward and tried to attack. Vanessa was momentarily surprised by the speed and aggression in his movements—but at her current level, it was like being swatted by a child.
Before Lucas could register what she'd done, a quick strike to his stomach sent him straight into unconsciousness.
---
For the past few days, Lucas's mind had felt… distorted—as if he were trapped somewhere between dream and reality.
Sometimes, he dreamed he was still stuck in that slaughterhouse loop.
Other times, he dreamt of attacking anyone in sight, spreading chaos without control.
Everything blurred together in a haze of confusion.
His head throbbed constantly, especially every time he opened his eyes. The world looked different. Curtains drifting in the wind, birds perched on windowsills, falling leaves—they all moved in slow motion, and it made him nauseous. Every attempt to stay awake was met with overwhelming dizziness and sickness.
Time itself seemed to crawl, stretching endlessly. Lucas had no idea how many days had passed—until eventually, he began to adapt to this strange vision.
Physically, he was fine now. Every injury from his fight with Simon had been treated perfectly, as if they'd never existed.
But the real damage wasn't on his body—it was in his mind. And that, no healer could easily fix.
According to the academy's top healer—Vanessa Carlton—Lucas was suffering from extreme psychological shock after killing Simon in a life-or-death duel. It was the most reasonable conclusion, especially since Lucas hadn't told anyone about the nightmare he'd endured afterward.
Even now, he wasn't sure whether what happened under that enormous red eye had been a dream… or real. But one thing was certain:
The feeling of flesh tearing, organs spilling, heads severed, and death repeating itself again and again—that had felt horrifyingly real.
"Miss Vanessa, what's going to happen to me?" Lucas asked, looking up at her in her usual white uniform.
Vanessa hesitated. Her expression was heavy, as if holding something back.
"Normally… when a student commits a crime this serious, they're crippled and sent to the eastern mineral mines—enslaved for decades until they're eventually released."
Lucas's brows furrowed. His expression darkened.
"But… since it was self-defense," she continued softly, "you'll most likely just be expelled from the academy."
She placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, locking eyes with him.
"I promise, that's all it will be. You have my word."
"Thank you," Lucas said sincerely.
Vanessa fell quiet, unsure how to respond to his heartfelt gratitude.
"You're the only one here who's ever treated me kindly," Lucas continued. "I really appreciate that. If you ever need my help—if there's anything I can do—I'll be there. I promise."
Vanessa smiled faintly.
"Well then… if you ever become a king, I want a seaside estate and a big house with a beautiful view. I want lots of money to fund my experiments, and enough to live comfortably without working too hard. I'm tired of working. I just want to laze around and do whatever I feel like. So until that day comes… promise me you'll never give up."
Lucas chuckled softly at her list of demands, then replied with quiet warmth,
"I promise."
---
A few days later, the academy finally announced Lucas's punishment. Just as Vanessa had said, he was expelled.
Naturally, the decision sparked a wave of protest. Many believed it was too lenient—especially the professors and instructors from the Kingdom of Graham, and those sponsored by the royal family.
But Lucas knew one thing: once the headmaster made a decision, it was nearly impossible to overturn. So, he didn't dwell on it. What weighed on his mind far more was his family's safety—after all, he'd just killed a prince from another kingdom.
The Kingdom of Graham would never let this slide. They were infamous for their pride and arrogance. If the Sinclair Kingdom refused to hand over the culprit, war wasn't out of the question.
Lucas sighed.
He was lying in the academy's garden, beneath the shade of a great oak tree. The late afternoon breeze rustled through the leaves, scattering them gently. He felt far better than when he'd first regained consciousness—but his body still felt… off.
Still, it was much stronger than it used to be. He felt alive. Energized. It was as if this wasn't his old body anymore.
The weak version of him who got tired after a few laps around the training ground, that version was gone.
He felt like he'd been reborn. And that feeling… made it easy to forget the gravity of what he had done.
Lucas had awakened.
That much was confirmed by the headmistress, who visited him the night before the punishment was announced.
But one thing still puzzled him—when someone awakened, they usually gained access to their innate power. Yet Lucas had no idea what his was.
'If only there were a system that could tell me,' he mused.
After all, as someone who came from Earth, he was no stranger to stories about people being transported to other worlds and gaining supernatural abilities.
He caught a falling leaf just before it brushed his face, staring at his hand with a sense of unease. Something felt… missing.
He tried to recall what it was, but a thick fog clouded his memory.
Then it hit him.
A wave of dread ran down his spine as the image of a crimson eye surfaced in his mind.
At that exact moment, blood-red text appeared before his eyes.
---
Godslayer's Successor
Name: Lucas Sinclair
Blood Core: 1/7
Blood Essence: 101 / 2,456
Inheritance Progress: 6%
Class: Blood Master
Skills: [Blood Extraction], [Burning Blood], [Blood World]
---