For three centuries, the four great nations — Empherim, Jaquarim, Nephelim, and the World Tree Land — had lived in uneasy peace. Boundaries were drawn, power was balanced, and alliances were formed with the understanding that any shift in that power could spell disaster. But that peace had been shattered when a mysterious power, unlike any magic the world had ever seen, fell from the sky and landed on the cursed land.
The cursed land — a desolate, forbidden place that none dared to venture into. It was said that the land itself had been cursed by the gods, with storms, unrelenting winds, and creatures that roamed beyond any known species. Yet, now, something was stirring in that very place.
The power had been sensed by Estria, a powerful mage from Empherim. At 80 years old, she was a towering figure in the magical community, her red hair signaling her lineage to many. Though the years had taken their toll on her body, magic had kept her youthful, making her appear much younger than she truly was. Her abilities were near legendary, and her senses had long been in tune with the world's delicate magic. So when she felt that strange energy surge, her instincts told her that something was off.
Word had spread like wildfire. The humans had sensed the power first, and the King of Empherim wasted no time in responding. He knew that the other species — the Beastmen, the Demons, and the Elves — would have already taken notice, and it would only be a matter of time before they moved to claim it for themselves.
"Gather the best," the king ordered. "Send them to the cursed land, and ensure no one else gets their hands on this power. This world cannot afford another war."
Iswell, the king's firstborn son, was chosen to lead the mission. A man with a reputation that matched the king's, Iswell was a swordsman who was just a step away from mastering the sword completely. He had been trained in the arts of war since he was a child, and his unwavering loyalty to his kingdom was unmatched. He would lead the human forces, though he knew that others would also be racing to the cursed land.
Meanwhile, the Beastmen, led by the cunning warlord Tarek, and the Demons, under their terrifying general, Malak, had already set their sights on the mysterious power. Even the Elves, with their deep connection to magic, had made their move, though they were less aggressive in their pursuit.
The humans were not the first to reach the cursed land, and soon, a battle between the four species erupted. Magic and steel clashed in the air as spells tore through the ground. The earth trembled beneath the weight of their struggle.
Iswell fought valiantly, his sword moving like lightning, cutting through his enemies with precision. But despite his skill, the battle raged on, and the humans were slowly pushed back by the overwhelming power of the combined forces of the Beastmen and Demons. It wasn't until a powerful Demon knight, wielding a blade of pure dark energy, managed to slice through Iswell's right arm, severing it completely.
The battlefield fell silent for a moment, and Iswell collapsed to his knees, clutching the bleeding stump where his arm had once been. The warriors from both sides paused, watching the human prince's fall in disbelief.
But it wasn't the end. Iswell's injury was quickly tended to, and while his arm was magically reattached, the humans were forced to retreat. The other species hadn't secured the power either. But the battle had shown one thing: the balance of power was in jeopardy. The mysterious energy had the potential to tip the scales for anyone who could harness it.
Back in the palace, the king summoned the mages, knights, and priests to devise a plan. But no matter how much they debated, one thing was clear: the world's balance was at risk. No one could deny the truth anymore. The cursed land, with its unknown power, had to be contained.
One mage, an elder with wisdom stretching back to the days of the first summoning, spoke up. "We can't just leave it to chance," he said, his voice hoarse but steady. "Our ancestors once summoned heroes from another world to deal with such matters. It is said that these heroes can bring balance when the scales tip too far in one direction."
The king was hesitant. Summoning heroes was no light matter. It was a form of magic that bordered on the forbidden — ancient spells that many believed should remain untouched. They were dangerous, unpredictable, and always had consequences.
But time was running out. The mysterious power still lingered, and the other species wouldn't wait long before they returned for it.
"Summon them," the king ordered, his voice heavy with resolve. "We will do what our ancestors did, and we will take the risk. We cannot allow the world to fall into chaos."
The mages gathered at the Temple Tower, a structure said to be as old as the world itself. The walls were lined with ancient symbols, and the air hummed with the power of ages. They began chanting, their voices echoing in unison, their magic weaving together to summon the heroes.
Light burst from the pillars, filling the room with a brilliance that momentarily blinded everyone present. And when the light faded, the summoning was complete.
Two figures stood before them — Jendol and Annabel, dressed in the classic hero garb, their eyes filled with confusion but also a strange sense of purpose. They were exactly as they had been summoned — but there was a third figure. Akin.
The mages stared in shock. They had only summoned two. This wasn't part of the plan.
The mages muttered among themselves, their voices tinged with fear. "Anomaly... abomination…" one of them whispered.
The king, his eyes narrowing with suspicion, looked at the three newcomers. His gaze lingered on Akin, whose expression was one of confusion, though tinged with unease.
"Who are you?" the king demanded. "You are not part of the summoning."
"I—I'm just…" Akin started, but the king raised a hand, silencing him.
"Enough. I do not know what you are, but you are no hero. You must be sent away."
Akin's heart raced. "Wait, what are you talking about? I didn't choose to come here—"
"Silence!" the king snapped. "You will be taken to the cursed land. It is the only place where an anomaly such as you can do no harm."
Annabel and Jendol rushed in, hearing the commotion. "What's happening?" Annabel asked, her voice full of concern. "What about Akin? Where's he going?"
The mages tried to act quickly, using their magic to halt them. But they were still too inexperienced, and their powers faltered in the face of the newcomers' strength.
"We'll find out what's happening!" Jendol shouted, looking directly at the king. "Why are you sending him away?"
The king glared at them. "He is a danger to the kingdom. He must be sent to the cursed land, where he cannot harm anyone."
Akin was dragged away, unable to resist the gravity of the situation, and as the summoning spell's effects began to take hold, he found himself being pulled toward an unknown fate.