Avalon strode purposefully into the training facility. His gaze was unwavering as he approached a door, the seamless metal surface sliding open soundlessly before him. Inside, his eyes settled upon a figure meditating at its center.

This figure sat in a meditating position, his posture exuding an air of effortless confidence. His presence seemed to radiate an otherworldly energy, an aura that pulsed with a resonance that transcended the mundane.

It was as if the very air around him hummed with an electric charge, a palpable force that set him apart from the ordinary. Broad shoulders and muscular frame exude an aura of raw power, commanding attention and respect. With a chiseled jawline and piercing steel-grey eyes, his gaze holds an unwavering intensity that can send shivers down the spines of even the boldest adversaries.

A scar, earned in a battle long past, cuts across his cheek, a badge of honor that adds to his rugged and battle-hardened appearance. This man wad Magnus Ravenstein, the Ravenstein’s Paragon. A powerhouse of humanity!

With a quiet determination, Avalon closed the distance, his steps echoing softly against the chamber’s walls. As he drew near, he greeted the man with a respectful bow. “Father”

Magnus eyes, though still closed, seemed to acknowledge Avalon’s presence. His response was tinged with a hint of warning. “I hope you better have something good for you to disturb me, Avalon.”

Avalon’s expression grew more somber, his jaw clenching as he steeled himself for the weight of the words he was about to utter. “Ariel was killed,” he said.

Magnus’s eyes snapped open, his gaze sharp and piercing. “Repeat what you just said,” he demanded, his tone cold and unyielding.

Avalon’s heart raced as he repeated the devastating news, “Ariel died.”

In an instant, the air seemed to fracture around them, a blur of motion and sound that was almost imperceptible. A supersonic punch landed with bone-crushing force, striking Avalon with an impact that left him reeling. The power behind the blow was incomprehensible, a testament to the depths of Magnus power.

Avalon’s body was sent hurtling through the air, crashing into the wall. The runes etched into the walls simply flickered, their intricate designs momentarily disturbed by the shockwave. The room was created to withstand Paragons, the force of the punch not nearly enough to damage it.

Avalon lay against the wall, his breath laboured, pain searing through his body. His eyes widened, his mind struggling to comprehend the swiftness and sheer power of the strike. He had faced battles as a Grandmaster-rank individual, a power earned through blood and sweat, but before his father, he felt like a novice.

Magnus remained unmoved, still seated in a meditating position. His very presence radiated an aura of dominance, an embodiment of the power that a Paragon wielded. Avalon, a feared demon of the battlefield, lay humbled by a single strike, such was the power of a Paragon!

Moving from Grandmaster rank to Paragon is a monumental leap in the realm of power, a transformation that defies the very limits of human potential. It’s a metamorphosis that grants an individual access to an unprecedented wellspring of strength, propelling them into the echelons of the extraordinary.

At this rank, the augmentation of mana and stats is nothing short of awe-inspiring. It’s as if the floodgates of an untapped reservoir have been thrust open, releasing a torrent of energy that courses through the very core of one’s being. This surge in power is unparalleled, with mana levels skyrocketing to a staggering magnitude, dwarfing what was once considered exceptional.

But the shift is not solely quantitative. The transition from Grandmaster-rank to Paragon-rank carries a qualitative transformation as well. To attain Grandmaster rank, one must master the intricate art of forming a domain, a sphere of influence that encompasses their power and bends the fabric of reality itself. It’s a feat that requires a profound understanding of one’s abilities and the world around them.

However, to become a Paragon, one must go beyond the mere establishment of a domain. They must embody their power in a way that goes beyond mastery, becoming a living vessel of their capabilities. Every facet of their being, every thought, every action, is imbued with the essence of their power. It’s a fusion of self and ability, a harmonious convergence that transcends mere technique.

The difference between Grandmaster-rank and Paragon was just too great. That’s why it wasn’t a surprise to see Avalon lose without being able to put up a fight.

Avalon knelt before Magnus, silent acknowledgment of the weight of his failures.

“You mean to tell me you couldn’t even protect the family!?” Magnus voice was a seething torrent of anger, each word dripping with disappointment. “Did I make a mistake giving you the position of family head?” His words hung in the air, a bitter accusation that cut to the core.

Avalon’s frustration and grief were etched upon his face, a mixture of sorrow and determination. His hands clenched into fists at his sides, his teeth gritted in a display of raw emotion. “I… I’m sorry,” he admitted, his voice laced with regret.

Magnus’s eyes bore into him, a silent challenge that demanded answers. “Who killed him?” His voice was a thunderous command, a demand for accountability.

“We’re still searching,” Avalon responded

In an instant, Magnus aura surged forward, an overwhelming force that slammed into Avalon with bone-crushing impact. The force was so immense that he was sent sprawling to the ground, his body pinned by the sheer weight of Magnus power. He gasped for breath, the pressure of the aura almost suffocating.

After a few agonizing seconds, the pressure lifted, and Avalon struggled to push himself upright. His heart pounded in his chest, his body aching from the onslaught.

Avalon voice cut through the aftermath, his words carrying a renewed edge. .

“But we suspect the Obsidian Order” He continued, with blood oozing out of his mouth

“I think it’s about time I make my reappearance,” Magnus declared, his tone laced with anger. “It seems people no longer fear the Ravensteins anymore.”

“Call a family meeting,” Magnus demanded, his voice resolute “Attendance is mandatory.”

In the Ravenstein family, numerous branch families interwove to create a complex and harmonious whole. Each branch played a vital role in upholding the family’s legacy, their unique responsibilities contributing to the formidable reputation that the Ravensteins held.

There were those who dedicated themselves to the intricate web of trade and commerce. These shrewd Ravensteins navigated the ever-shifting currents of markets and economies, ensuring that the Ravensteins maintained their prosperity and influence.

With a keen eye for opportunity and an understanding of global dynamics, they forged connections that spanned across different sectors and secured the family’s financial stability. They manage the Ravencrest Consortium, a hegemon in the human domain and report directly to the main family.

On another front, warriors of unparalleled skill and discipline honed their craft within the branch family dedicated to martial prowess. Through rigorous training and relentless dedication, they transformed into formidable guardians, protecting the family’s interests with unwavering loyalty.

These warriors were the embodiment of the family’s strength, embodying the legacy of centuries of martial tradition. They are called, Raven Vanguard and they also report directly to the main family.

In the shadows, a branch family focused on intelligence and information manipulation worked tirelessly to gather secrets, decipher cryptic messages, and uncover hidden truths.

Their expertise in espionage and intrigue allowed the Ravensteins to wield information as a potent weapon, ensuring they remained ahead of their rivals and adversaries. They are known as the, Silent Nexus and only report to the family head.

While there were other branches that existed, these families stood as the primary force within the Ravenstein lineage. Through their united endeavors, the Ravensteins upheld their esteemed legacy, a force of unparalleled influence and revered strength.

“Yes, father” Avalon replied, then he stood up and left the room, limply.

After witnessing Avalon’s departure, Magnus gaze shifted to the ground, his eyes closing in a moment of solemn reflection. A tinge of sadness creased his features, etching lines of sorrow onto his face.

A heavy sigh escaped his lips, his breath mingling with the atmosphere of melancholy that surrounded him. With a sense of empathy, he acknowledged the depth of Avalon’s burden. “It wasn’t your fault, Avalon,” he murmured, his words laced with a quiet reassurance. “You didn’t fail him.”

“I did”

A surge of determination coursed through Magnus’s veins, a fierce resolve to seek justice and avenge the fallen. In an instant, his aura flared to life, an ethereal energy that radiated power and authority. The room itself seemed to quiver in response, the very air trembling as if acknowledging the force that Magnus had unleashed.

“The Obsidian Order”, he uttered, his voice laced with anger. .

Runes etched into the walls shimmered, their symbols glowing with an inner light as if stirred by Magnus’s potent energy. The air crackled with an electrifying energy, a testament to the depths of Magnus’s strength.

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