Chapter 1: Death of the Bastard
The battlefield burned red.
Ash rained from the sky like snow, coating broken swords and shattered bones. Screams echoed across the blood-soaked plains, but Kaien Veyrion heard none of them. His vision tunneled toward one thing—his brother.
High above the carnage, atop a mountain of corpses, stood Lord Thalor, heir of the Fifth Flame Clan. His crimson armor shimmered with molten runes, glowing with the sigil of the Phoenix. And in his hand—Kaien's heart still beat, impaled on the blade that should've protected him.
"I told you," Thalor said coldly, "a bastard has no place in the legacy of fire."
Kaien collapsed to his knees, coughing blood. His limbs were broken. His dragonfire was sealed. Betrayed not by enemies, but by blood.
Behind Thalor, the skies cracked open.
From the rift emerged a dark wyrm — the Demon Dragon, Varnok. Its wings tore the clouds, and its roar shattered the mountaintops. The continent's last line of defense had fallen. The five clans, scattered. The gods, silent.
And Kaien? Forgotten.
He reached toward the charred medallion around his neck, the only thing left of his mother. His vision blurred as flames consumed the world around him.
> "Is this it?" he thought. "I died… like this?"
"No," a voice echoed in his mind.
It was cold. Ancient. Inhuman.
> "You are not yet finished, child of ash."
Time stopped.
The flames froze midair. The sky darkened until all that remained was a void — endless, starless black. Kaien's body lifted, suspended in nothingness. From the shadows emerged a pair of glowing, reptilian eyes. A colossal silhouette coiled around him.
"A dragon…?" Kaien whispered.
> "Not just any dragon," the voice growled. "I am Arzeth, the First Flame. The Fallen God. The one your ancestors betrayed."
The void pulsed with ancient fury.
"I watched you suffer, Kaien Veyrion. Watched them mock you, cage your bloodline, discard you. And still… you burned."
Kaien tried to speak, but no words came.
> "I offer you a choice. Die here… or return. With my mark. With my wrath."
> "But power has a price."
Kaien clenched his teeth. "What kind of price?"
The dragon's jaws curled into something like a smile.
> "You'll learn. If you live long enough."
And with that, the world shattered.
Light consumed the darkness.
---
Kaien shot up in bed, gasping.
Sweat dripped from his brow. His fingers trembled as he grabbed the edge of the mattress. He looked around.
Stone walls. Wooden beams. The scent of smoke, not fire. Familiar.
His old room… in the servant quarters of the Fifth Clan stronghold.
Kaien stared at his hands. Smooth. Young.
"No…" he whispered. He ran to the mirror.
A 17-year-old boy stared back. Leaner. Softer. No scars. No burns. Eyes wide with fear — and disbelief.
"This isn't possible."
But it was.
Because outside his window, the city bells were tolling. Signaling the eve of the Celestial Summit — the same day, seven years ago, when it all began.
Kaien fell to his knees, gripping his chest.
And there it was… faint, glowing red beneath his skin.
The mark of Arzeth.
He began to laugh. Low at first. Then louder. Sharper. Like broken glass.
> "You took everything from me, Thalor…"
> "This time, I'll burn you all."