Bloodline Devouring System: Emperor's Path

Ivory Island—a massive landmass on the edge of the Eclipse World. Despite being called an island, it rivaled continents in size and held ancient secrets in every corner.

Four great empires, dozens of kingdoms, and billions of lives thrived here, though most of the land was still wild, ruled by monsters and magical beasts.

For centuries, humanity struggled to survive. That changed when the Wizards arrived. Magic met science, giving birth to the Rune Era—an age of floating ships, rune-powered machines, and enchanted warriors called Walkers.

But peace was fragile. And in one quiet corner of this vast, volatile world… a child was born.

…

Zenith Empire — Red Ember City — Royal Palace

Rune Era Year 1405, August 18th, around 5 P.M.

A young girl stood outside a wooden door, trembling with every scream and moan from within. She looked no older than fifteen, with olive-toned skin, reddish-orange eyes, and long black hair cascading down her back. Dressed in a purplish-blue gown embroidered with white threads, she was the 35th Princess of the Zenith Empire.

Yet, her royal title held little weight.

Beyond the ornate bracelet on her right wrist and the golden necklace bearing an Alexandrite gem—a gift from the Duke of Crimson Fort—she possessed little of a princess's luxury. That necklace commemorated her achievement as the youngest to reach Apprentice Knight at eight, earning her the Sword Princess title.

"Mom! Please don't cry!" she whispered, brushing away her tears. She raised her hand to bang on the door when a firm hand caught her wrist.

"Athena, you can't disturb the healers and midwives during delivery. Let them do their job."

The voice was cold… yet somehow gentle. It gave her a strange sense of relief.

Realizing who it was, Athena turned, knelt, and bowed her head.

"Greetings, Your Majesty!"

"This isn't the Throne Room, little one. Call me 'Father,'" the voice said calmly.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

Athena slowly looked up at the man before her—an imposing figure around forty, with golden hair, olive skin, and piercing red eyes. His regal robe shimmered gold over a white shirt, and at his waist hung a long sword—a symbol of his unmatched martial prowess.

He was Ian Sillalus Jorvot, the 15th Emperor of the Zenith Empire.

Though he was her father by blood, Athena knew this was only their second conversation. The first had been when she became an Apprentice Knight. She'd seen him from afar at banquets, like watching a star from the ground.

She understood the real reason for his arrival.

He came to check the affinities of the newborn child.

It stung. Perhaps they would have earned more respect in the noble circle if her mother had been a queen—or even one of the first few concubines.

But her mother was only the 24th concubine. And currently… the last.

Despite being treated like a noble lady, her mother's position was little more than that of a glorified headmaid.

The palace was overflowing with Ian's children and grandchildren. At this moment, the Emperor had 65 children.

If this child were born safely, he would become the 66th.

"Arrghh! It hurts!" Her mother's scream hit a new pitch, followed by the unmistakable cry of a newborn.

Before she realized it, Athena had already turned to the door, eyes filled with worry.

After a long minute of tense silence—broken only by the infant's cries—a woman of about 35 stepped out. Her blonde hair was neatly tucked beneath a white cap, and her blue eyes held years of experience—her stern features, hawk-like nose, and slender brow.

She wore a gray robe over a crisp white blouse. A corset and bodice accentuated her figure, topped with a functional apron.

"Aunt Shirley!" Athena ran to the woman, grabbing her hand in anxiety.

Shirley gently patted her head before noticing the man standing nearby.

"Your Majesty. Please, come in," she said with a respectful bow.

"How is the child?" Ian asked as he stepped into the room.

The chamber was richly decorated—velvet curtains, golden lamps, hand-carved furniture, a grand four-poster bed draped in lace. The family crest—a coiling winged serpent—was embroidered on the linens. Crystal vials, enchanted candelabras, and gleaming mirrors added an air of elegance and magic.

Athena followed him in, but the metallic scent of blood quickly filled her nose.

Her eyes widened at the sight of the unconscious woman on the bed.

It was her mother, Jeanne, a black-haired woman who appeared in her thirties, her legs stained with blood and amniotic fluid.

"MAMA!!" Athena cried out and rushed to her side.

"Don't panic, child," Shirley reassured her gently. "She only lost consciousness from blood loss."

Shirley turned to the bed's other side, carefully picked up the swaddled infant, then approached the Emperor.

"Please, Your Majesty… give him a name."

Ian gave the child a deep look and then looked towards Jeanne. But there was no trace of worry or even care. His gaze was filled with coldness and calmness.

Meanwhile, Athena wiped her tears and turned to look. The baby had soft, pinkish skin. So small. So fragile.

"Is he my younger brother?" she asked, a voice full of wonder.

Ian took the infant into his arms. He looked into the child's eyes—and paused.

Black as polished marbles. Depthless. Unreadable.

He drew a deep breath, muttering.

"Even his eyes… they look like black marbles."

Then, in a voice like rolling thunder, he proclaimed.

"I hereby name him Raven Sillalus Jorvot, the 66th prince of the Zenith Empire!"