Ray sat on his mother's lap, staring at the blue book in front of him, eager to hear about the legend of the past.
On the blue cover was a golden circle, inside of which drawn a character in black, holding a sword upward
Ray gave a nod. From outside, Outer spoke with a smirk, "I wrote this with some effort,"
The story began.
Centuries ago, all human lands were united as a single continent named Wuldarion.
And the only other continent was Ignis, the continent of demons. Yes, the one that still exists, it existed even long before this incident.
The world was unrecognizable compared to today. Different gods ruled, and even the core concepts of swordsmanship and magic were vastly different.
Back then, gods casually granted powers to those who offered human sacrifices or devoted their lives to prayer.
The strongest warrior of today could have been found in every other city of that era. The warriors of the past could defeat tens or even hundreds of the greatest fighters of the present.
Even battles between gods in the upper realm weren't uncommon.
Amidst that chaos lived a small family of three in a small town.
They weren't rich enough to waste food, but they also weren't poor enough to starve to death.
A magician mother, a swordsman father, and a son interested in both, but he had no hunger for power. Someone who couldn't even consider killing just to grow stronger.
They had a happy family.
But not everyone were like them.
The royal family of swordsmen, Agonis family, The one who worshipped the war god for generations.
Unlike today, a baby's potential could be discovered at birth, and changing that fate was impossible. No one could surpass their natural limits—except for one person.
Forty years before the great division of the continent, borned a brown-eyed boy, in the agonis family. He was frailer than the average newborn.
His father looked at him with disgust, gritting his teeth, "What a failure!" He then spun around to leave, as his foot was just about to be placed outside the room, he heard a voice.
"Give him a name. He is your son," his wife demanded, holding her child.
The patriarch looked back at the infant with disdain and said, "Fashil."
Which meant - failed.
That same day, the second child of the royal magic family was born—the Velmora family. He was hailed as the magic genius of the century.
Fashil's father ignored the failure, as if he didn't exist. Only his mother showed him an ounce of love—until she didn't.
The day she had her second child, everything changed.
Mother held her son, The patriarch of the Agonis family looked at the newborn with wide eyes and a grin filled with greed. "You did it," he said, hugging his wife.
A boy, about four feet, gray-haired stood outside the room, looking inside with narrowed eyes and gritting his teeth.
While leaving the room with a smug smile on his face, his eyes fell upon the failure. His smile faded, replaced by a look of pure disdain. He stood still, staring at the black sheep of the family before turning away once more.
Fashil looked at his newborn brother, and clenched his fists, gritting his teeth. "I will… I will"
…
Zoryth, the magic prodigy, grew obsessed with knowledge. The more he studied magic, the more curious he became. He avoided people unless he needed them, spending most of his time in his training in his experiment room, which was reinforced with tough metal to prevent him from destroying it.
At the age of eight, one day, he stood in front of a boulder, beside which was an empty basin meant to hold water. Raising his hands—one toward the boulder, the other slightly lowered, focusing on the basin, and his eyes were closed.
Seconds later, a corner of the boulder glowed and tiny particles formed and drifted to four feet above the empty basin, which then transformed into water.
He opened his eyes, then grinned, before closing them again, then a few seconds later pulled back his hands. But the process continued on its own.
"Wow! That's amazing! Absorption and creation at the same time!"
His eyes gleamed with excitement, "I remember reading that you can even create wood with earth magic too. Maybe it's not just earth, water, wind, fire, but more like solid, liquid, gas and plasma. I can experiment with different materials and study their structures. Maybe at some point, I can create and absorb anything."
Another thought struck him, and a wide grin spread across his face.
"What if I could absorb lives?"
His smile faded soon enough. "But what category would that even fall under? We can create wood but not plants without seeds... is it even possible?"
His eyes widened again. "The mana core holds a human's body together, may that is the thing that gives lives, what if life is just a gathering of pure mana? It would be difficult… but if someone could do it, what if someone absorbs mana core?"
He grin stretched further, "Maybe I'd gain some kind of forbidden power."
...
Curiosity and hatred. These two emotions could either destroy a person or make them destroy the world.
The only thing that would decide their fate would be strength.
Either they would be crushed by someone stronger—or they would become strong enough to crush the world.
Years passed.
Fashil trained relentlessly, ignoring the constant mockery. His basic understanding of swordsmanship eventually matched that of geniuses, but his physical strength lagged behind.
He ignored everyone and focused only on his goal.
Unlike his younger brother, he had no personal training room, so he trained wherever he could find an empty space.
For two months, his brother had been an annoying presence.
One day, Fashil was practicing his moves, slashing air in an open area, sweat covering his body, when a voice interrupted him. "Hey, get out of here. I'll be training,"
Fashil kept training, trying his best to ignore him—at least until he finished his form.
"I said get your–" something struck the back of his head, "–ass out of here,"
"Arghh!" Grimaced, he touched the back of his head, and felt a warm liquid, then looked at the blood, trickling down his fingers. His vision blurred, "Give me my sword back," his brother yawned, closing his eyes and waited.
Moments later, the sword flew back toward him, and he caught it effortlessly.
Fashil had no choice but to leave silently.
That night, exhausted, he collapsed onto his bed and fell asleep the moment he closed his eyes.
…..
While lying on his bed in the midnight with closed eyes, a bright light came, piercing through his dreams, he instinctively squinted his eyes, and covered with hands, then the light vanished in the darkness, and he found himself surrounded by weapons, blood, and bodies in a dull place.
A few meters away, seated on a black throne, was a warrior clad in black armor, his hand resting on the hilt of his black sword.
"I waited for you," The warrior's voice was deep and commanding, "to ask for my help, to question me on why I made you suffer, to beg me for a chance. But you never did… so I had to come to you myself."
Fashil wasn't surprised. Maybe he had expected this moment.
"Are you…?"
The warrior stood, towering over him. Fashil was already six feet tall, yet this being was nearly twice his size.
"I am the War God," he declared. "And I have chosen you as my successor."
Fashil, or rather, the man who would become the greatest swordsman the world had ever seen, smirked.
In exchange for making him his avatar, he demanded the destruction of the magic family.
Once the process was complete, the god asked, "Now that you have this power… are you going to kill your brother? Or should I ask—can you kill him?"
Fashil looking at his hands, feeling the overwhelming strength coursing through him.
"I can't,"
"Why not? Are you attached to him?" He asked simply.
"If I kill him now, the entire clan will hunt me down. I'm not ready for that yet."
He raised his head and met the War God's gaze.
"I will… kill them all—when I have enough strength."
Looking at the opened book, Seina spok"And then, one day, he did just that, and then war occurred between swordsmen and magicians, and then the first guy saved the world and that's all" his mother said, then shut the book.
She turned to expect her son to be asleep, just like every other night.
Instead, she found wide-open eyes and an agape mouth.
'The book isn't finished! How could you just skip everything and end it like that?!' Ray complained.
"Nah, that's enough. I won't tell you these kinds of stories again," mother said shaking her head, then placed the book below the bed, opposite side of Ray, "Just go to sleep, or I'll tell you that fat monkey story,"
Ray had no choice but to lay quiet on his bed, closing his eyes, which were slightly squinted.