A world filled with magic, monsters, and higher beings—domains where every day, rifts in space open, and monsters emerge from nowhere. In this world, everyone is born with magical elements and class. But one day, in a northern subcontinent, a boy is born with no magic.
The Black Tower: Highest Floor, the Realm of Earth.
The Black Tower is a place where Earth connects to other realms. It is one of the greatest towers, located in the Black Continent. Here, meetings of immense importance are held.
The rulers of the seven continents gather in the grand hall. A hushed murmur fills the room, anticipation thick in the air.
"Shall we begin the meeting?" the Ruler of Mural asks, gazing around the room.
"Did you not receive the letter? Stop asking foolish questions," the Ruler of the Greatest Sea responds sharply.
"Silence," commands the Master of the Black Tower, his voice low but unwavering.
The Duke of the Eastern Continent sighs and speaks gravely.
"Before we proceed, I must inform you of troubling news. The seal... has been broken."
The room falls into complete silence.
One of the lords breaks the quiet, voice filled with disbelief.
"Are you certain? That... thing... has been broken?"
"Are you jesting?" another asks, incredulously.
"How could this happen...?"
Silence once more descends, deeper and heavier than before.
The Master of the Black Tower speaks with a somber tone.
"We have all gathered here for a reason. We must carefully consider our next steps regarding this matter."
"So, what are we to do now?" another asks, worry evident in their voice.
"Tell us more," one insists.
"Give us whatever information you have."
The Duke of the Warrior Family interrupts, his voice firm.
"What will we do if that thing has broken? Why ask questions? We are here to fight!
Raise your voices like warriors
"Do you not understand who we are about to face?" mural emperor
Silence falls as the Master of the Black Tower speaks again.
"Our ancestors spent their lives battling that force. Now, it's our turn."
Another member asks cautiously.
"Have you found it yet?"
The Master of the Black Tower nods solemnly.
"We are searching for exactly that."
They exchange urgent words in hushed tones until the meeting ends.
"If you'll excuse me,"
the Master of the Black Tower says, before leaving the room, followed closely by his assistant.
Outside, the assistant catches up and shares new findings.
"Sir, I found something in the northern subcontinent. They say there's an artifact there—a shape-shifter. But the person, or boy, who uses it doesn't carry mana."
The Master of the Black Tower pauses, considering the news.
"Is this artifact in our records?"
No sir"
"Did you attempt contact?"
"It's in the northern subcontinent—luck has been against us so far."
The Master of the Black Tower sighs, looking out into the distance, where the sun sets beyond the horizon, a heavy weight on his heart as he contemplates the uncertain future.
Location:
An unknown, destroyed place—perhaps the remnants of an ancient city. The day was bleak, and the sky was overcast. Amidst the chaos, a boy pushed himself up, his body aching.
He started muttering numbers under his breath—
"200 , 201, 202."
Each word seemed to grow louder and more urgent.
As his voice echoed, the area began to stir, and the air vibrated with an unsettling sound. The boy's chant had unknowingly attracted the attention of a monster.
The setting was once the site of a dungeon. An old dungeon, long abandoned and forgotten, now overrun with monsters. Some brave souls had ventured inside, but many failed to clear it, facing terrifying creatures within. This dungeon was home to monsters classified as Tier 3—pig-like beasts, ferocious and deadly.
One of the monsters heard the boy's chant and immediately rushed toward him. The boy tried to prepare for the attack, but just as the creature lunged, someone intervened. A light magic spell cut through the monster, and with a burst of energy, it was destroyed.
"Well done, bait," a voice called out from behind him.
saint candidate, Revna Vaelora.
"Well, the fun is just beginning" Aris
"Next, we go!"
said another, a different voice full of anticipation.
"Don't let your guard down"
Valtor Taylor, dual-elemental specialist.
"Alright, my warm-up's done. Let's start hunting," Anon took out his sword
He looked at Aris and said, "You didn't do anything stupid today."
"Well, that will work, right?" Aris replied confidently.
Then, he began chanting. As his incantation grew louder, the fireball he summoned transformed into a massive phoenix, scorching everything in its path. But just before it reached the monsters, it disappeared, vanishing into thin air.
Everyone looked at him in disbelief.
"Man I practiced last whole week, but why did it turn out like this?"
he muttered, burying his head in his hands.
The monsters, frightened by the massive fire phoenix, began to gather in greater numbers.
"Hey, Norman, do you have a plan?"
Norman replied, "Well, let's see we,
"Step aside, boys." Revna's voice cut through the air as she advanced, her holly sword resting confidently on her shoulder. Though of saintly rank and a candidate herself, her demeanor had a raw, barbaric edge, setting her apart from the refined saints around her.
"Revna, don't do anything reckless," a voice called from behind her.
She smirked, eyes glinting with mischief, as she pointed her axe toward Aris. "You'll see what recklessness looks like."
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