The Flame Continent, located in the eastern lands of the Four Continents, enjoys a perpetual early summer. Revered as a divine sanctuary gifted by the gods, its temperate climate is ideal not only for human habitation but also for hosting a diverse range of magical beasts and plants. The abundant presence of mid- to low-tier magical creatures makes the Flame Continent the most mercenary-populated and cultivation-intensive region among the Four Continents.
The Tres Empire, one of many small nations on the Flame Continent, languished under the reign of a tyrannical king. Years of brutal oppression culminated in a rebellion that engulfed the land. In the chaos, the king fled, taking only his infant son and a handful of royal magisters with him.
Standing on a hillside overlooking the burning ruins of Tres City, the king cradled his month-old prince tightly. His face betrayed no emotion as he gazed upon the kingdom shrouded in flames.
One of the royal magisters approached hesitantly. "Your Majesty, we must leave. If we delay any longer, escape will be impossible."
The king did not turn. His voice was calm but resolute. "Lain, do you recall the Rite of Rebirth?"
Magister Lain's heart skipped a beat. "Your Majesty, that is a forbidden spell. The toll it exacts is immense. With only the few of us here, it is impossible to resurrect all the fallen soldiers."
"No," the king replied coldly. "I do not seek to revive them. My focus is solely on my son."
"What?" Lain's voice rose, disbelief etched into his face.
"To cast the Rite of Rebirth on the prince? That is an unthinkable transgression. If we proceed, we forfeit any chance of ascending to the Divine Realm. Please reconsider, Your Majesty!"
"Lain," the king said, his voice tinged with steel, "do not forget your oaths of undying loyalty. Without my kingdom, your ascension is meaningless. Everything you have achieved is because of my support. Without me, where would you be?"
The magister hesitated, then bowed his head in resignation. "Very well, Your Majesty. But you must understand the consequences. If the prince does not survive the ritual, there will be nothing we can do."
The king nodded solemnly. "Do as I command. He is my son. It is his destiny to bear the burden of restoring our nation. Without that purpose, his life has no meaning."
The other magisters, silent but resolute, exchanged glances. They had sworn loyalty under divine oaths, and now they prepared to fulfill them, no matter the cost.
Lain stepped forward, his expression grim. "Your Majesty, hand the prince to me."
As the king passed his son into Lain's arms, the magister took a deep breath. "Everyone, let us give everything we have. Begin the ritual."
The magisters stood in a circle, their faces pale but determined. Their very souls were bound to the king's will, and now, even death would not release them.
**The Rite of Rebirth**
An ultimate forbidden spell capable of resurrecting the dead. However, the revived exist as undead, forever severed from the divine cycle. When cast on the living, it rewrites fate, granting new life and power, but at a terrible cost. Those who perform the spell are barred from the Divine Realm, often perishing in the process. The abilities of the recipient are also shaped by the ritual's inherent risks.
The infant prince was placed at the center of the circle, and the magisters began the incantation. As their voices rose in unison, the world itself seemed to shudder. Their actions defied the laws of existence, and there would be no turning back.
A radiant blue aura enveloped the prince, threads of elemental energy swirling above his fragile body. Suddenly, the space around him tore open, revealing a gaping void.
At that very moment, in a different world, Yan Xu was lounging in his apartment, playing cards with friends. As he threw down a two of diamonds, an inexplicable vortex appeared above the card. It expanded rapidly, and Yan Xu felt an oppressive force crushing his chest. Gasping for air, he clutched his throat, his face contorted in panic.
Neighbors looked on in shock, too frightened to intervene. Yan Xu collapsed onto the table, his body motionless, while his soul was sucked into the growing vortex, plunging into the unknown.
Back in the Tres Empire, crimson streams of light burst from the void, merging with the infant prince's body. The magisters convulsed violently, blood spurting from their mouths as they fell lifeless to the ground.
The king let out a triumphant roar as he scooped up his son, who now radiated an otherworldly aura. Turning away, the king fixed his gaze on a trembling young girl standing nearby.
"Take the prince and leave this place," he commanded. "Guard him with your life. When he is of age, tell him everything. Now, go."
The girl, her eyes filled with fear and reverence, cradled the prince and stumbled away. The king did not spare them a final glance. Drawing his sword, he faced the distant ruins of his kingdom, his gaze unyielding. Blood trickled down the blade as he stood motionless, his figure a testament to his unbroken resolve.
A gust of wind swept through the hillside, and the king's body swayed before collapsing onto the blood-soaked ground.
The girl, clutching the infant prince, ran until her legs gave out. Exhausted, she stumbled into Kodo City, a modest settlement at the edge of her endurance. Weary but determined, she wandered the streets, searching for refuge.
Her name was Cerys, once a maidservant of the royal family. Two years ago, she had served the prince's mother, the queen. When the prince was born, she became his personal attendant, an esteemed role among servants.
On the Flame Continent, royal attendants often served noble heirs from birth, later becoming their confidantes—or even their lovers. Kind-hearted nobles rewarded such loyalty with security and wealth, while crueler masters offered little more than lifelong servitude.
But fate had dealt Cerys a cruel hand. Barely a month after the prince's birth, their kingdom fell. Now, survival was her only concern.
Fortunately, the queen's generosity had left Cerys with a small sum of silver coins. Yet these meager savings were far from sufficient for the long road ahead.
As she wandered through Kodo City, Cerys scanned the streets for a secluded spot. Despite being only seven years old, she was remarkably resourceful. Finally, she found a dilapidated house near the city's outskirts and purchased it with most of her coins.
The former owner, a kind-hearted pauper, took pity on the young girl. War had left countless children orphaned and destitute, and Cerys was just another victim of this cruel world.
Accepting only half the payment, the man left her the house and wished her well. Cerys bowed deeply, thanking him profusely, as he walked away with a sorrowful shake of his head.