The world twisted.
Zayden felt his body being pulled forward, his vision stretching into golden threads as the portal swallowed him whole. For a moment, there was only light.
Then he stepped out.
The air hit him first — thicker, richer, humming with strange energy that made his skin prickle. He found himself standing on soft grass, but it wasn't green. It was a deep violet, almost glowing faintly under the sunlight.
Zayden narrowed his eyes.
Around him stood massive trees, thicker than any redwood he had ever seen back on Earth. Their trunks were so wide that ten people holding hands wouldn't be able to wrap around one. The leaves weren't green either — they shimmered in shades of silver and pale blue, casting strange shadows over the forest floor.
"This…" Zayden muttered under his breath, "It isn't Earth."
Kuro slithered down from his shoulder, her small dragon-like body swaying as she sniffed the air. The patches of gold and red on her scales seemed to gleam brighter under this strange sun.
The forest was quiet. Too quiet.
Zayden's gaze sharpened as he scanned his surroundings, his instincts warning him that this place was far from safe.
Then, a faint chime echoed in his head.
[You Have Arrived on the Heritage Planet]
Another line followed, glowing faintly.
[Heritage Planet: This world was created by the Elders of the ??? Race as a trial ground for their chosen heirs. One day here is equivalent to six hours on Earth. To leave the planet, you must locate and claim your Heritage.]
Zayden stared at the message for a long moment.
The question marks didn't surprise him. He had long suspected he wasn't entirely human. Ever since the first time he had seen his status page, ever since the first whispers of the Constellation of Oblivion Flux had entered his mind, he had known.
But the time dilation…
"One day here equals six hours on Earth…"
He clenched his fist slowly. That meant even if he spent weeks here, barely a day would pass outside. Relief washed through him — it meant the shelter would be fine without him for now — but suspicion lingered.
Why was this planet built this way?
Why go to such lengths to train heirs?
He dismissed the screen with a flick of his wrist, shaking off the thoughts.
No use worrying about it now.
Zayden knelt and touched Kuro's head.
The little dragon hissed softly in acknowledgement before Zayden absorbed her back into his body. His shadow rippled faintly as she merged into it, her presence nestling against his soul like a calm heartbeat.
Zayden stretched once, then turned.
In the distance, through the silver-blue leaves, he could see it — a silhouette against the horizon.
A city.
Dozens of skyscrapers loomed in the distance, their designs alien yet strangely familiar. Flying vehicles zipped between the towers, leaving faint trails of light behind them.
"…Guess that's my first destination."
He started walking.
The forest floor was springy under his feet, the purple grass brushing against his boots as he moved. Birds — or something like birds — cried in the distance, their calls warbling like wind chimes. The deeper he went, the more wrong the world felt.
Everything was alive.
Not just the plants, but the air, the soil, even the light itself seemed to hum faintly with power.
It was unnerving.
Hours passed, or at least what felt like hours, before Zayden heard something that wasn't part of the forest.
Voices.
He slowed, stepping carefully until he reached a clearing.
What he saw made him stop.
Two young men were there.
One of them lay on the ground, his luxurious clothes torn and stained with dirt and blood. He looked like the stereotypical young master from a wealthy family — smooth black hair, soft features twisted in pain, his body curled protectively around something.
A sword.
It wasn't like any sword Zayden had seen before.
Its blade was pitch-black, with strange glowing runes running along its length. Runes that made Zayden freeze.
They were familiar.
He had seen them before — in the dungeon, on the circles Isara conjured with her magic, and on his own body when his bloodline had awakened.
The other young man stood over him, breathing hard, his shirt stained with blood, but it wasn't his own. His expression was twisted with anger as he raised his foot and kicked the young master in the ribs.
"Just hand over the sword," he snarled. "It's wasted on trash like you!"
The young master coughed blood but still held the weapon close, refusing to let go.
Zayden exhaled slowly, debating whether to leave.
This wasn't his problem.
But just as he turned away, the young master's head jerked up. His gaze locked on Zayden, desperation flashing in his eyes.
"You!" he shouted hoarsely. "Help me!"
Zayden paused.
He didn't move.
Not his business.
The other young man followed the gaze and turned toward Zayden.
For a moment, the forest went quiet.
Then the rich-looking attacker sneered. "So there was another one, huh?"
Zayden's brows drew together.
"I'm not with him," he said flatly.
But the attacker didn't seem to care.
"Doesn't matter," he said coldly. "You're in the way."
His hand lit up with fire.
A spell circle flared to life, and a roaring fireball formed in his palm.
Zayden's eyes narrowed as the heat washed over the clearing, his instincts screaming danger.
The young man hurled the fireball straight at him.
The fireball roared through the air like a miniature sun, its heat searing the ground as it closed the distance between Zayden and the attacker.
But Zayden didn't even flinch.
A dark mist erupted from his body, coating him from head to toe in an instant.
Umbra Coat.
The attack slammed into the shadowy barrier and vanished, its flames smothered like a candle in the rain.
The forest went silent.
Even the wind seemed to stop.
Zayden slowly turned his head, his emerald-and-crimson eyes locking on the attacker.
For the first time since arriving on this planet, genuine killing intent leaked from him.
The young master, dressed in embroidered robes of gold and crimson, faltered for just a moment, then scowled, forcing confidence into his voice.
"Do you know who I am?" he snapped. "I'm from the Golden Ember Clan! If you touch me, you'll bring the wrath of my entire family!"
Zayden didn't answer.
Instead, he raised his hand, and a tiny spark appeared on his pinky.
A small, purple-black flame flickered to life.
The man's pupils shrank. "W-What is—"
Zayden flicked his finger.
The flame flew.
It landed on the man's chest, and for a single, pregnant second, nothing happened.
Then...
FWOOOSH!
Black fire erupted, covering him completely.
He screamed, thrashing violently, trying to pat out the flames, but the fire didn't behave like normal fire. It didn't spread, didn't catch the grass or trees. It simply devoured him, eating away at his flesh and cosmic energy until nothing remained but a pile of ash.
Zayden didn't move, didn't blink.
Then, just before the man's body was completely gone, something golden shot out of the ashes, a glowing crow mark with blazing wings.
It flew straight at Zayden and sank into his forearm before he could react.
The mark pulsed faintly before fading into his skin, leaving behind the faint shape of a golden crow.
Zayden frowned, staring at it.
"What the hell was that?"
No answer came.
He bent down and sifted through the ashes until he found a small, golden space ring.
"Mine now," he muttered, tossing it into his inventory.
He was about to turn away when the boy who had been guarding the sword, the one who had been beaten earlier, finally staggered to his feet.
"Wait!" the boy shouted.
Zayden stopped and gave him a flat look. "What?"
The boy quickly bowed. "Thank you for saving me. I… I can't just let that go without repaying you. Please, allow me to reward you."
Zayden raised a brow. "I didn't save you. I was attacked first."
"I know," the boy admitted, clutching the strange sword tightly, "but if you hadn't intervened, I would have died. At least let me do something to pay you back."
Zayden was about to refuse when his eyes drifted to the sword.
The blade was unlike anything he had ever seen. Strange markings ran along its length, glowing faintly as though alive. The same markings had appeared on his own body when he awakened his bloodline. And Isara's magic circles had similar designs.
His curiosity won out.
"Fine," Zayden said. "Tell me about that sword."
The boy blinked, then smiled faintly. "You really don't know?"
Zayden gave him a look.
"Those markings," the boy said, holding the sword out carefully, "are stigmas. The very foundation of forging and enchanting. And if you want to learn about them…"
He smirked.
"…you've come to the right person."
Zayden tilted his head. "Oh?"
****
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