"Next! Lucian Ardane!"
In Silvermoon City, atop the towering Skybound Steps, a middle-aged man clad in a silver robe with a green scarf called out. His voice, though calm, carried an authority that rippled across the plaza, crashing like waves in every ear.
The crowd, lined along the edge of the platform, turned their eyes toward the altar. No one spoke. Even those who had climbed down the steps earlier felt the weight of the moment, their steps faltering under the scrutiny of the audience.
The ladder itself stretched high into the heavens, its top obscured by clouds. At the base, a long line of individuals waited, each one craning their neck to glimpse the altar above.
At the head of the line stood a young man. His demeanor was composed, his expression steady. He had short hair and a sharp jawline that hinted at quiet determination. As the middle-aged officiant gestured, the young man stepped forward without hesitation.
The official's eyes darted to the scroll in his hand. "Shenhar Academy, Grade 11, Lucian Ardane, sixteen years old. Is that correct?"
"Yes," Lucian replied.
The official nodded and stepped aside, revealing the floating altar behind him.
The altar was ancient, its surface covered in weathered bark and knotted roots that seemed to pulse faintly with life. It exuded a quiet, mysterious majesty—as though it had once borne the weight of divine footsteps.
Lucian took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, and stepped onto the altar.
The official didn't waste time. He opened a silk-bound tome, his voice reverent as he began the ritual: "Pray to the heavens!"
Today was no ordinary day—it was Ascension Day.
The ceremony, held annually, marked the start of a new generation of Sovereigns. The officiant, a ceremonial priest, guided young aspirants in their prayer to the heavens, seeking to awaken within them the Heart of a Sovereign—the mystical core that marked their eligibility to become [Sovereigns].
The central plaza of Silvermoon City was teeming with spectators. Families clustered together, their faces taut with anticipation. Others came out of curiosity, drawn to the spectacle of destiny unfolding before their eyes.
All attention was fixed on Lucian as he stood atop the altar. The silence of the crowd was deafening.
Lucian, for his part, felt the weight of countless eyes on him. His emotions were a storm of anticipation, hope, and nerves.
Finally, the moment had come.
Lucian was not an ordinary youth—he was a reincarnator.
He had lived a life before this one. Though fragmented and fleeting, memories of his past life lingered. They weren't the kind to dwell on, but they had shaped him.
Waking as an infant in this new world, Lucian's first thoughts had been disbelief and cautious excitement. The gods had granted him a second chance. A chance to leave behind mediocrity and make his mark on the world.
Like anyone, he had fantasized about how he might use the knowledge from his previous life.
In an ancient world, he'd plagiarize poetry, invent gunpowder, revolutionize agriculture, and ascend to imperial power.
In a modern setting, he'd become a tycoon, seizing every business opportunity his foreknowledge afforded.
But all such fantasies died when Lucian learned the truth of this world.
This was the Age of Sovereigns.
In this world, every human had the chance to become a Sovereign. By awakening their Heart of a Sovereign, they could access the Endless Expanse, a realm where they could establish territories, build domains, and grow their power.
This wasn't merely a world of survival. It was a world of infinite potential. Here, anyone could aspire to godhood.
For Lucian, the choice was clear: he would pursue his destiny as a Sovereign.
However, awakening the Heart of a Sovereign required more than ambition. One's soul needed to meet specific thresholds of strength, typically achieved between the ages of sixteen and eighteen.
Lucian had waited patiently. A month ago, he turned sixteen and passed the required soul tests. With his qualifications confirmed, he registered for the Heaven-Climbing Festival—the ceremony that marked the beginning of his path.
The event itself was straightforward: candidates climbed the Skybound Steps and prayed at the altar. Those who succeeded were granted their Heart of a Sovereign, the core of their future dominion.
Each Heart was unique, its traits determining the nature of one's domain and the potential it held.
The Hearts came in six known grades:
Gray: Inferior quality.
White: Common.
Green: Rare.
Blue: Superior.
Purple: Exceptional.
Gold: Legendary.
Most would receive Gray or White Hearts, their futures unremarkable unless they encountered extraordinary opportunities. Those blessed with Green or Blue Hearts could, with effort, rise to prominence.
But those who awakened Purple or Gold Hearts? They were destined for greatness. Purple signified the potential for immortality. Gold? It marked a chosen one—a legend in the making.
Throughout history, every possessor of a Gold Heart had ascended to mythic heights:
Valian Everhart, the Immortal King, built the Ninefold Celestial Court and ruled over thousands of divine beings.
Daelis Orwen, a sage, shaped the Arcane Sanctum, spreading enlightenment across worlds.
Seraphina Ardell, the Saint of Light, governed the Blessed Expanse and shepherded lost souls to salvation.
Aurelius Magnus, the Star Sovereign, forged the Celestial Spire and wielded the heavens as his blade.
In this world, myths were not mere stories—they were legacies. The gods and immortals of legend walked among mortals.
Lucian stood at the precipice of such a destiny.
Would he ascend to the heavens or remain bound to the earth? Only the altar's judgment would decide.