CHAPTER 1 - CROWN OF SHADOWS, HEART OF FLAME

The skies had once bled gold and fire.

A thousand years ago, the heavens split open with divine fury, and the gods descended upon the human realm like a flood of merciless light. Their armor shimmered with celestial glow, and their weapons crackled with the wrath of stars. The skies darkened beneath their chariots, and mountains trembled under their heels. They were gods—above mortals in strength, knowledge, and age.

But they were not immortal.

Contrary to what humans believed, the gods were creatures of longevity, not eternity. And that illusion shattered the day they discovered the Verion Crystals—deeply buried treasures within the veins of the human realm. Crystals that pulsed with ancient, primeval energy. Crystals that could prolong a god’s life… perhaps indefinitely.

The gods invaded with one purpose: plunder.

The war was swift and brutal. Entire kingdoms collapsed. The strongest martial practitioners—those in the lofty Martial Emperor and Demi-God realms—fell like wheat before the scythe. The ground was soaked in the blood of heroes. Human cities turned to smoking ruins. And just when extinction loomed, he came.

Lord Rhinus.

Clad in obsidian-black armor, cape torn and blazing behind him, he descended from the heavens like a curse upon his kin. As one of the three Guardians of the Gods’ Realm, he had once stood above all. His golden eyes, now hardened with defiance, struck fear into the divine legions. He fought not for glory, but for justice. And that battle… nearly cost him everything.

With wounds across his chest and divine blood soaking the earth, Lord Rhinus drove the gods back. He summoned the ancient technique of sealing, using his own lifeforce to lock the bridge between the heavens and the human realm. The skies closed. Silence fell. The gods vanished.

The cost?

He was exiled—branded a traitor, “The Horrible One.”

He chose to remain among mortals, his colossal strength now buried beneath healing wounds and a weathered cloak.

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A THOUSAND YEARS LATER… CADDOCK EMPIRE

The winds were sharp across the palace rooftops of Caddock—one of the three great empires of Vion Continent. Its architecture was grand: towers of pale stone etched with dragon motifs, crimson banners fluttering in the high wind, and sprawling courtyards where elite martial practitioners trained in rows like silent ghosts.

Prince Davious—the third and youngest prince—stood at the edge of the garden pond, his reflection rippling with the breeze. He was a young man in his early twenties, strikingly handsome, with sharp brows, an aristocratic nose, and long, shiny black hair that cascaded over his shoulders like silk. Yet, despite his royal blood, he had always been regarded as weak—stuck at the mid stage of the Martial Beginner Realm. A joke in the eyes of his brothers. An afterthought in the eyes of the court.

But tonight, that would change.

That night, beneath the glow of the twin moons, Lord Rhinus emerged from the void—no longer whole, but far from dead. His soul hovered above the palace, drawn to Davious’s fragile but oddly compatible body. A boy ridiculed. Unremarkable. Yet perfect.

In a flash of ancient sigils and soul-binding light, Rhinus descended. Pain lanced through Davious’s veins as memories not his own surged into him. Battles in the heavens. The screams of gods. The feeling of eternity crumbling.

By dawn… Davious was no longer Davious alone.

THREE MONTHS LATER

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THE THRONE ROOM, DAWN

The golden sun spilled through the towering stained-glass windows, bathing the imperial hall in hues of red and amber. Emperor Leotimus—robed in imperial blue silk with a lion-shaped crest on his chest—sat tall on the dragon-bone throne. His aura burned with the might of a Martial Lord.

Davious entered the hall clad in a plain black robe, his long black hair tied into a loose warrior’s knot. His steps were calm, but his gaze held a new weight.

He knelt. “Greetings, Your Majesty.”

Leotimus frowned slightly. “How goes your training?”

Davious lifted his head, voice calm. “Well. In fact, I would like to leave the palace. I wish to travel the realm.”

The Emperor’s brow tightened. “You? Travel? You’ve been stuck at the mid stage of the Beginner Realm for years. The outside world will tear you apart.”

“Then perhaps a demonstration is in order,” Davious said smoothly. “Let me challenge Prince Arrod.”

Gasps echoed through the court. A servant dropped his scroll.

Leotimus stared at him for a long moment, then scoffed. “So be it. Let your arrogance be your punishment.”

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PRINCE ARROD’S QUARTER

“Hah! Is Father trying to get that weakling killed?” Prince Bavinus smirked, adjusting the dark crimson sash on his robe.

Arrod, the eldest—broad-shouldered and cocky—grinned as he slid a gleaming sword into its sheath. “This is perfect. I’ll break his legs and send him back to bed.”

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THE ROYAL DUEL ARENA – THREE DAYS LATER

A crowd gathered. Ministers, generals, and nobles filled the amphitheater. The sun blazed down upon a circular stone stage surrounded by marble statues of past emperors.

Prince Arrod stood tall in his silver-plated armor, long sword at his side, his expression smug.

Davious stepped forward in a simple dark robe. No armor. No weapon. Just his calm eyes—and an unreadable smile.

“Come at me, brother,” Davious said lightly.

Arrod sneered. “Arrogant bastard. I’ll teach you humility!”

He dashed forward, blade flashing. With a roar, he struck—aiming for Davious’s heart. But the moment steel met flesh—

CLANG!

The blade bounced off his chest like it struck iron.

“What—?!” Arrod staggered, eyes wide.

He slashed again. And again. Sparks flew, but Davious didn’t flinch. The crowd murmured. Eyes widened.

“Could it be,” Davious said with a smirk, “that you haven’t eaten this morning?”

“DAMN YOU!”

Arrod’s forehead ignited with a sword-shaped light—his soul force unleashed. A red glow pulsed around him, proving his advanced level. But Davious moved.

In a blur, he appeared beside Arrod—one palm open.

BOOM!

A shockwave burst across the arena as Arrod was flung off his feet, crashing into the wall behind. Dust erupted. Gasps turned into roars.

The ministers stood. Leotimus’s eyes narrowed in disbelief.

Davious stood still, expression cool, the wind catching the edges of his robe like a storm was gathering around him.

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