Exhausted but determined, Karena and Greta pushed their mana to its limits, finally stumbling into the bustling city of Egon. This city was the beating heart of commerce in the man-folk kingdom, home to three towering giants of industry: the Valsenas, the Mirovs, and the Takurs.
In the opulent estate of the Mirovs, Derin, the family patriarch, sat hunched over his desk. Despite his rotund figure, he was a publicly a formidable High Wielder of mana. But, in reality he was a Half-Step Supreme wielder, his mind as sharp as his magical prowess. He pored over the month's earnings and competitor reports, plotting his next move in the endless game of commercial chess.
A soft knock interrupted his musings. A servant entered, whispering of hooded figures at the back door bearing a familiar token. Derin's eyes widened as he examined the proffered emblem, his jovial demeanor instantly replaced by grave concern. "Bring them in immediately," he commanded, "and cancel all my appointments. Discretion is paramount."
As the windows were hastily shuttered, Derin paced anxiously. When the cloaked figures were ushered in, the air grew thick with tension. One of them stepped forward, lowering her hood. "Father..." Karena's voice quavered with emotion.
Derin moved to embrace his daughter but froze mid-step, his gaze locked on the frail infant in her arms. His expression hardened, a frost creeping into his eyes as his aura flared dangerously. "Is this... my grandson?" he whispered, his voice a mixture of horror and barely contained rage. "Who did this? Was it that accursed King? Tell me, daughter. WHO DARED TO HARM MY BLOOD?"
As Derin's mana probed the child, revealing the extent of the cruelty inflicted, Karena's composure crumbled. She recounted the harrowing tale of betrayal and escape, her words punctuated by quiet sobs.
When Karena finished her harrowing tale, a heavy silence fell over the room. Derin's rage had cooled to a smoldering determination. With deliberate movements, he retrieved an ornate vial from his desk, the most potent healing potion in his possession. Approaching his daughter, he gently cradled his grandson, his imposing stature softening with tenderness.
With utmost care, Derin administered the potion, allowing it to trickle drop by drop into the infant's mouth. As they watched, color returned to the child's pallid skin, and even the cruel scars began to fade. When the babe's breathing eased into a peaceful slumber, Derin returned him to Karena's anxious arms.
"My dear," he said softly, his voice tinged with both relief and concern, "what do you intend to do now? You're safe here. With our wealth and influence, I've cultivated loyal dogs who would challenge and bite even the king for us. So, tell me, what is your heart's desire?"
Karena hesitated, her eyes flickering between her father and her child. Taking a deep breath, she replied, "Father, nothing would bring me more joy than to return home, to feel safe within these walls. But those monsters... they won't let me go so easily. If I stay, I'll only be bringing danger to mother, and my brother."
Derin raised an eyebrow, a hint of his usual humor returning. "Oh? And what about your old father? Am I not worth worrying about?"
A small smile graced Karena's lips, a flicker of their old dynamic shining through the gravity of their situation. "My father is the strongest man I know. He can handle any trouble I send his way."
"Haha! Damn right!" Derin puffed up, momentarily basking in his daughter's praise before sobering once more.
Karena's gaze returned to her sleeping child, her voice soft but resolute. "But father, I'm a mother now. I have a responsibility to restore what was stolen from my son - his talent, his future. I must search for a way, no matter where it leads me."
Derin's expression grew solemn. He reached for a necklace he wore, one he'd acquired long ago through a fateful encounter. With a swift motion, he snapped it from his neck, clutching it tightly as Karena and Greta looked on in confusion.
"What has been done is monstrous," he began, his tone measured, "but it may not be irreversible. The solution, however, doesn't lie within the man-folk continent. But somewhere else…"
Karena leaned forward, a flicker of hope igniting in her tear-stained eyes. "What do you mean, Father?"
Derin's gaze grew distant, as if peering into a long-buried memory. "Years ago, I had an... encounter. I was transporting cargo by sea when my ship strayed off course, right into the border, into the heart of the Raging Storms. As the vessel splintered around me, I thought I'd never see you or your mother again. But then... she appeared."
He paused, lost in the recollection. "A woman of indescribable beauty and power. Though her attire was simple, her presence was unmistakable. She could navigate through the storms and not only saved me from certain death but brought me to safety on a nearby island."
Karena's brow furrowed in disbelief. "Father, how is that possible? It is said that not even a Supreme rank can navigate those storms. How could she...?"
Derin's lips curved into a wry smile. "Because, my dear, she was a Unity level expert."
"What?" Karena and Greta exclaimed in unison, leaping to their feet. Unity level practitioners were thought to be myths, legends from a bygone era. The idea that Derin had not only met one but been rescued by one was almost unbelievable but, knowing her father, she had no choice but, to believe it.
Derin gestured for them to sit, his expression grave. "I was just as shocked as you are now. But during our time together, I learned things about our world that changed everything I thought I knew. Tell me, Karena, how many continents do you believe exist since the 'Great Divide'?"
Karena answered hesitantly, "Four... right, Father?"
Derin shook his head, as he replied. "Five. There are five continents in our world. And she... she came from the fifth. The Central Continent."
Karena's breath caught in her throat. "The Central Continent? But Father, that's... that's just a legend, isn't it?"
"No, my dear. It's very real, and it may be the key to saving your son." Derin leaned forward, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "At first, I was skeptical too. I even accused her of lying, wondering why a Unity rank wielder would fabricate such tales. But my disbelief only confused her. You see, what we call the Unity rank, they refer to as the Manifestation realm. And what we call mana, they call Ki. Here's the truly astonishing part—she mentioned that her village had many like her, and even beings of greater power."
Karena and Greta sat in stunned silence, trying to process this world-altering information. Derin continued, his eyes alight with the possibilities before them. "Can you imagine it? Beings more powerful than what we consider the pinnacle of strength? The Central Continent isn't just a myth—it's a realm of untold wonders and power. And it may be our only hope of restoring what was taken from your son. At the heart of their village stands a great tree, said to heal any wound and grant blessings. In fact, Jassa told me that the great tree is their divine protector, and her people are called 'Children of the Great Tree.' Also, it was a piece of fruit from their settlement, that allowed me to ascend from early High rank to Half-Step Supreme. So, daughter, while I can't speak for other continents, I firmly believe only her people can help my grandchild."
As the weight of this revelation settled upon them, a spark of determination ignited in Karena's eyes.
"Father," Karena said, her voice steady with newfound resolve, "tell me how to reach the Central Continent. If there's even a chance it can help my son, I need to find a way there."
Derin nodded, then held out the necklace he had removed earlier, its pendant glowing with a soft, otherworldly light. "This, my dear, is your key to the Central Continent. Jassa gifted it to me, knowing of my fascination with her homeland. She said that to activate it, one must pray to the symbol of the great tree with all their heart. A gateway will open in response to a sincere plea. I never tried it. While I longed to see the Central Continent, my place is here with your mother and my children, you and your brother. But, now my dear you should use it to find a way to the Central Continent."
Amazed that a simple necklace could bridge continents and grant access to the fabled Central Continent, Karena nodded gratefully at her father. She accepted the pendant with trembling hands. Closing her eyes, she prayed fervently, her entire being focused on a single, desperate plea for her son's salvation.
Suddenly, a gasp from Greta broke the silence. Before them, the very fabric of space began to ripple. Derin's eyes glistened with unshed tears as he looked upon his daughter.
"Thank you, Father. I—" Karena began, her voice thick with emotion. But Derin gently placed a finger on her lips, shaking his head.
"No thanks are necessary, my brave girl. You are my daughter, and this is what fathers do." He pulled her into a fierce embrace, then stepped back, his hands on her shoulders. "Now go. Your son needs you, and don't worry about us. I am here."
With a final, determined nod to her father and a quick squeeze of Greta's hand, Karena turned to face the portal. Taking a deep breath, she stepped forward, her heart pounding with fear and hope in equal measure.
Demon-folk Continent
Deep within the heart of a majestic palace, shrouded in a dark aura, sat the Demon King in meditation. This formidable being had, three centuries ago, united the proud demon-folk tribes under his iron fist, becoming the undisputed leader of all demon-folk.
His reign had brought unprecedented prosperity to the demon continent, elevating his people to new heights of power and influence. However, this golden age for demon-folk came at a terrible price for the other races unfortunate enough to share their realm.
The Demon King's rule was marked by a ruthlessness that knew no bounds. The beast-folk, once proud and stood on equal footing with the demon-folk, had been systematically exterminated. Their men were slaughtered without mercy, while their women were subjected to a fate some considered worse than death - forced into becoming pleasure slaves to satisfy the twisted desires of the demon-folk elder council and the king himself.
Even the man-folk, resilient as they were, found themselves pushed to the brink of extinction. The Demon King's forces had been on the verge of delivering the final, crushing blow to the last of the human warriors when something unprecedented occurred.
Reports flooded in of a Unity rank expert appearing out of nowhere, decimating the demon forces with ease and spiriting away the remaining man-folk to safety. The news sent shockwaves through the demon hierarchy, for Unity rank practitioners were thought to be little more than myths - even the Demon King himself had only reached the half-step Unity rank.
As the Demon King pondered this development, his brow furrowed with concern. The emergence of a Unity rank expert among the man-folk was more than just a setback - it was a potential threat to everything he had built. It meant that the man-folk now had the backing of a true powerhouse, one that even he couldn't afford to offend lightly.
The very thought of being forced to show restraint, to acknowledge the man-folk as anything other than inferior beings to be conquered, filled the Demon King with a seething rage. He had spent centuries cultivating the belief in demon-folk superiority, and now, in one fell swoop, that carefully constructed narrative was under threat.
As he grit his teeth in frustration, dark energy crackling around his clenched fists, the Demon King's mind raced, searching for a solution that would maintain his iron grip on power.
"I must ascend to the Unity rank myself," he growled, his voice a low rumble that shook the palace foundations. "There must be a reason for this sudden rise in power of the man-folk. A hidden treasure? An ancient technique? Whatever it is, I'll uncover it and claim that power for myself. Once I break into Unity, I'll be able to trace that expert's origin."
But then, a cruel smile twisted his lips as a new plan began to form in his mind. "No... there's a better way. That Unity rank expert revealed themselves to rescue those pathetic man-folk. We can use that against them."
His eyes gleamed with malicious intent as he continued, "Once I break through to the Unity rank, I'll be able to navigate the raging storms that divide the continents. I'll lead my armies on a grand hunt, systematically eradicating every last man-folk we can find. That self-righteous 'expert' will have no choice but to reveal themselves."
The Demon King's laughter echoed through the chamber, a chilling sound that would have sent shivers down the spine of even the bravest warrior. "Yes, and when they do, I'll capture them, extract their secrets, and use that knowledge to cement the demon-folk as the unquestionable rulers of all realms. This setback will become the catalyst for our ultimate victory!"
With renewed purpose, the Demon King rose from his throne, dark energy swirling around him like a tempest.
Beast-Folk Continent
The grand colosseum, once a symbol of beast-folk superiority, now stood as a silent witness to a shocking turn of events. The air was thick with disbelief and confusion as thousands of beast-folk spectators struggled to process what they had just witnessed.
"I... I still can't believe this," murmured a stunned beast-folk, his eyes fixed on the battle-scarred arena floor. "Our emperor... defeated?"
The words hung in the air, heavy with implications. For generations, the beast-folk, like their demon-folk counterparts, had viewed man-folk as little more than weak prey, unworthy of respect or consideration. But today, that worldview had been shattered in the most spectacular fashion.
Their mighty Beast Emperor, had been challenged by a mysterious hooded figure. As the battle raged on, the challenger's hood had fallen away, revealing the unthinkable – a man-folk warrior. The collective gasp that had echoed through the colosseum at that moment was nothing compared to the stunned silence that followed the battle's conclusion.
The Beast Emperor, their invincible leader, lay defeated, barely clinging to life. His opponent stood tall, seemingly untouched by the ferocious combat that had just taken place.
As realization dawned, whispers began to ripple through the crowd. "Did you see how he moved?" "That power... it couldn't be..." "Is it possible?"
A grizzled veteran, his fur streaked with battle scars, voiced what many were beginning to suspect. "By the ancestral spirits," he growled, his voice a mix of awe and fear, "that was no ordinary man-folk. That... that was a Unity rank expert!"
The proclamation sent shockwaves through the assembled beast-folk. Unity rank – a level of power so rare and legendary that many believed it to be mere myth. And yet, here they stood, having witnessed its terrible reality firsthand.
As the man-folk warrior prepared to depart, he left behind a chilling message that echoed through the stunned colosseum: "Man-folk are not prey. If you mistreat them ever again, then don't blame me for coming back to finish what I started."
With those words, he vanished into a ripple in space, leaving behind a shaken empire and a people forced to confront a harsh new reality. The age-old beliefs that had defined beast-folk society lay in ruins, much like their defeated emperor.
As the crowd began to disperse, their minds reeled with questions. How could a man-folk achieve such power?