For countless centuries, fear lurking beyond the layers of mana had kept the descendants of the great families confined, their movements restricted and their horizons limited. Trapped within their own enclave, they continued to lead a secluded existence, unaware that beyond the confines of their sheltered world lay untold lives and undiscovered lands.
Two distinct paths emerged amidst this isolation—a stark dichotomy between the privileged few and the downtrodden many. While the elite thrived within the protective embrace of their fortified palaces, the weaker ones eked out a meager existence near the borders of the veils. Their lives were defined by scarcity and hardship, each day a relentless struggle for survival.
Yet, despite their tribulations, they persevered. With resilience born of necessity, they adapted to their harsh surroundings, clinging to the hope that they were not alone in this desolate world. Little did they know, beyond the tenuous layers of mana that separated them from the unknown, lay a realm teeming with life and opportunity.
Then, one fateful day, as the layers began to thin and the barriers between worlds grew faint, the truth was revealed in all its splendor. Before their astonished eyes stretched vast cities adorned with towering palaces and majestic mountains inhabited by abundant wildlife. Overwhelmed by the sight of such abundance, their weary souls, long starved of hope, found solace in the promise of a brighter tomorrow.
With tears of joy streaming down their faces, they knelt upon the barren earth, their hearts brimming with gratitude and newfound hope. In that moment, they dared to believe that the trials of the past were but fleeting shadows, and that a future filled with promise and possibility lay within their grasp.
As the veils of paradise parted for some, revealing a realm of abundance and prosperity, for others, the descent into hell was swift and merciless, exposing the gruesome underbelly of their shattered world.
The great families left behind a dire warning for their descendants—an ominous testament to the dangers that lurked beyond the safety of their fortified walls. "Beware the weak, for their madness has the power to unravel civilizations...", "If you encounter one unable to harness mana, strike them down before they turn on you...", "The inhabitants on the far side of the mana layers are savage beasts in human skin,, driven by insatiable hunger and primal instinct. They cannot be reasoned with, for they will stop at nothing to satisfy their ravenous appetites, even if it means devouring their own kin..."
Thus, the stage was set for war—a conflict born of misunderstanding and fear, fueled by generations of trauma and mistrust. On one side, bewildered souls found themselves thrust into a deadly struggle, unable to comprehend why they were being hunted like prey. On the other, survivors haunted by the specter of their ancestors' suffering trembled at the sight of the destitute and emaciated masses, fearing the resurgence of the horrors of days long past.
In the beginning, it was a massacre unbalanced in its brutality. The gifted, fueled by abundance and pulsating with energy, wielded bodies akin to invincible titans. Their strength eclipsed that of the weak, and they showed no mercy to any unfortunate soul who crossed their path. Children, women, the elderly, and men alike fell victim to their relentless onslaught, their anguished cries echoing fruitlessly as they were consumed by the flames of their tormentors' wrath.
But this reign of terror was destined to be short-lived. Despite their overwhelming power, the gifted faced adversaries who, though lacking in their innate abilities, possessed a tenacity born of desperation. Harnessing the dark energies of cursed stones, the weak rallied to defend their homes and loved ones, turning the tide against their oppressors.
As they reclaimed new lands, the weak fought with a ferocity born of righteous fury. The regeneration of the gifted proved futile against the relentless onslaught of those who had long been imbued with the power of darkness.
As the reserves of the Oblivion Lake dwindled, the gifted began to weaken, and the power of darkness could not penetrate the heart of the kingdom of the House of Myriad Creatures, leaving the weak vulnerable to the poisonous mana. The war reached a stalemate, with further skirmishes threatening irreparable consequences for both sides.
Amidst this deadlock, the great families took the unprecedented step of proposing a truce. However, the weak harbored deep-seated distrust towards this move. Though they refused to accept the conditions laid out by their aggressors, they refrained from initiating new conflicts. This decision came at a grave cost, as children born in this new world began to perish due to the lack of immunity, rendering the development of fertile lands impossible.
In this fragile peace, the weak asserted their conditions: an unyielding pact forbidding the killing of their kind by the gifted or members of the great families. Thus, the first rule of the House of Myriad Creatures was born—never to spill the blood of the weak.