Night had fallen, and the sky above the Arkanian Empire burned with an unnatural glow. The moon hung high, casting a silver light over the vast imperial capital. But tonight, something was wrong.
Amidst the river of stars, a swirling mass of crimson and gold energy gathered in the heavens. What should have been a peaceful night transformed into a spectacle of divine chaos.
Then, without warning—
BOOM!
A bolt of blinding light shot down from the heavens, shattering the sky itself. The ground rumbled. A nine-colored storm erupted, spiraling downward like a spear sent by the gods.
The entire capital trembled. Even within the towering Imperial Palace, the air grew thick with an indescribable pressure.
On the palace balcony, overlooking the empire, two figures stood motionless.
One was Emperor Julius Arkan, dressed in golden imperial robes, his presence towering like an unshakable force. His eyes, however, held a rare flicker of something—unease.
The other stood in solemn reverence, clad in pure white robes, his golden staff reflecting the celestial glow. High Pope Altorius, leader of the Holy Church of Radiance.
Both men—rulers of faith and steel—watched the phenomenon unfold.
"Abnormal signs appear in the sky..." The Pope's voice was steady, yet his grip on the staff tightened. "...It means that a great calamity has been born."
The Emperor said nothing at first. His gaze remained locked onto the falling divine energy. Then, as the light struck the earth, it vanished.
No explosion. No destruction.
It simply disappeared.
Julius Arkan narrowed his eyes. A sign that came with no disaster... only an omen.
His fingers tapped against the marble railing. He knew what this meant.
A force had been born in the empire. A force that could not be ignored.
After a moment, he finally spoke.
"Summon the royal astrologers. Gather the scholars. I want an interpretation of this sign before dawn."
The Pope hesitated before adding, "And send word to the Holy Church's Inquisition. There is a threat lurking in this empire."
Both rulers stood there, their thoughts filled with one singular truth—
Somewhere in the empire tonight, a monster had been born.
And they needed to find it before it was too late.
---
The Blood Awakening
Far from the imperial capital, deep within the Valmont estate, Noah sat cross-legged in his private chamber. His breath was steady, his body wrapped in a thin sheen of sweat.
Before him lay a small, jade vial, the liquid inside glowing with a faint golden hue. A knight's elixir.
A gift from his father.
"The first gate of knighthood must be broken through with will and blood," his father's words echoed in his mind. "Drink this and carve your name into the battlefield."
Noah exhaled, grasping the vial. His time had come.
Without hesitation, he tilted the vial back, letting the liquid burn down his throat like molten fire.
Instantly—
A surge of power erupted inside him.
A violent shockwave ran through his veins, spreading across his limbs. Every muscle tensed, every fiber of his being screamed in agony—
Then, his body ignited.
Not with fire, but with an invisible force, a heat that came from deep within his own flesh.
Battle Aura. The first true step toward knighthood.
His veins pulsed with power, his bones groaned under the weight of something awakening within him.
His mind remained sharp. He had trained for this.
Knighthood was not just about swordplay. It was a discipline of the body and will. Every knight forged themselves through trial and pain.
And Noah—he would not break.
Crack!
The very air around him shuddered. A faint golden glow spread across his skin, a formless energy wrapping around his body.
Then—
Boom!
The room trembled as the force inside him erupted outward.
Noah gasped, his eyes snapping open.
A moment of stillness.
Then, a slow smirk formed on his lips.
He had broken through.
He clenched his fists, feeling the raw strength coursing through him. This was an Iron Knight's body.
His next goal? To master it.
But as he steadied his breath, a strange sensation lingered in the back of his mind.
A feeling like something in the world had... shifted.
Something was watching.
Noah slowly exhaled, his body still thrumming with newfound power. The sensation of raw strength in his limbs was intoxicating—every movement felt sharper, every breath filled his lungs with a clarity he had never known before.
He was now a true Iron Knight.
A knock on the door snapped him out of his thoughts.
"Young Lord, may I enter?"
The voice was familiar—Emily.
"Come in," Noah said, rolling his shoulders as he stood up.
The door opened, and Emily stepped in with a bright smile. Her emerald eyes gleamed with undisguised admiration.
"I felt the energy from your room," she said, closing the door behind her. "You've broken through, haven't you?"
Noah smirked. "That obvious?"
Emily giggled, setting down a silver tray carrying fresh towels and a change of clothes.
"You shook half the estate, Young Lord. The knights outside are still wondering if it was a small earthquake."
She walked toward him, her hands resting on her hips. "And you're just standing there covered in sweat like it's nothing."
Noah glanced at himself—his bare chest glistened, and the remnants of the knight's elixir left faint golden traces on his skin.
Emily sighed dramatically. "Come, let's get you cleaned up. You can't meet the Duke like this."
Before he could protest, she had already moved. With practiced ease, she removed the damp cloth from his shoulders, dabbing away the remnants of sweat.
"Sit," she ordered, gesturing toward the basin of warm water she had prepared.
Noah smirked but complied.
As she worked, her fingers were gentle yet firm, carefully wiping away the strain of his breakthrough. There was something soothing about her touch, and for a moment, Noah simply let himself enjoy the care.
"You're not even excited," Emily muttered, rinsing the cloth. "Most knights celebrate their first breakthrough for days."
"I don't have time for that," Noah said, stretching his arms. "This is only the beginning."
Emily paused, her green eyes studying him. There was no arrogance in his words—just certainty.
She smiled softly. "Of course it is."
Once she finished, she helped him into a fresh tunic and coat, adjusting the black silver-lined embroidery of the Valmont crest on his chest.
When she was done, she stepped back, admiring her work.
"Perfect."
Noah turned to the mirror. His reflection stared back—sharp, refined, and composed.
A true Valmont heir.
Emily gave him a playful push toward the door. "Go. Your father will want to see you."
Noah cast her a glance before heading out.
He didn't see the way Emily's gaze lingered on him, a small, secret smile on her lips.
---
The Imperial Interpretation
Deep within the Imperial Palace, in a grand chamber lined with ancient scrolls and golden tomes, a gathering of the Empire's greatest scholars and diviners sat in tense silence.
The air was heavy with incense and divine magic.
At the head of the table, Emperor Julius Arkan sat with his hands folded, his piercing golden eyes scanning the room.
To his right, High Pope Altorius stood with his ceremonial staff, his expression unreadable.
Before them, a council of astrologers, oracles, and scholars trembled under the weight of expectation.
"Speak," the Emperor commanded.
An elderly scholar hesitated before stepping forward, his hands trembling slightly as he unrolled an ancient celestial chart.
"Your Majesty, we have spent the night studying the anomaly," he said. His voice was steady, but there was a hint of unease beneath it.
"The nine-colored celestial event was unlike anything recorded in the past thousand years."
The Emperor's gaze darkened. "And its meaning?"
The scholars exchanged nervous glances before another spoke.
"It was not a mere blessing of the heavens. Nor was it an ordinary divine descent."
The Pope's fingers tightened around his staff.
A younger diviner stepped forward, her eyes filled with a strange mix of fear and reverence.
She whispered, "The stars spoke of a birth... but not of a savior."
The room tensed.
The Pope's voice was cold. "Then what did they speak of?"
The woman swallowed before answering.
"A Devourer."
Silence.
Even the Emperor's fingers stilled.
The scholar continued, her voice barely above a whisper.
"A being... born with the potential to consume the balance of the empire itself."
She pointed toward the ancient star maps, showing shattered constellations and an unfamiliar dark sigil forming where the celestial event had occurred.
"The prophecy is unclear," the elderly scholar added quickly, sensing the rising tension. "We do not know who it is. We do not know if they have been born as a noble, a commoner, or even among the forsaken bloodlines."
The Emperor's jaw tightened.
A force, hidden somewhere in his empire, with the power to shatter it?
The Pope exhaled slowly. "This is dangerous, Your Majesty."
"Of course it is," the Emperor muttered. He leaned forward, his golden eyes gleaming.
"Then find it."
His voice was soft—but absolute.
The scholars bowed immediately, their robes fluttering as they hurriedly left the chamber.
The Pope remained, his gaze lingering on the star chart.
"Your Majesty," he said after a moment, "if this force is truly a Devourer, then even your throne may not be safe."
The Emperor smirked, his fingers tapping against the armrest of his throne.
"I welcome the challenge."
He leaned back, his expression unreadable.
"But first... let us see how long it takes them to crawl out of the shadows."