The day before Hwi-seong's soul slipped into Blake's body, the Olura Kingdom trembled beneath invisible tides of power.
Fourteen towers pierced the heavens, their spires needle-sharp, connected by immense green-stone walls that bound the castle like a titan's crown. Archer slits and windows aligned in flawless symmetry—defense and artistry fused in perfect balance. The air itself seemed to bow before the fortress.
Inside the grand hall, time slowed.
The queen sat upon her throne. White hair cascaded like silk rivers down her shoulders, skin pale as carved jade, eyes burning red with regal fire. Her silver gown shimmered with golden threads, each strand catching torchlight as though it wove together sun and moon. She did not need to speak to command attention; her presence was law.
Opposite her stood an ancient shaman—veiled in beads, skin wrinkled like dried parchment, eyes heavy with visions. Her voice cracked like brittle wood, yet it carried the weight of centuries.
The Fate Foretold
"There will be one…" she rasped, her words rolling like thunder in a storm."One whose influence will raise the Olura Empire to golden heights… or burn it to ashes. The world will tremble. His name shall be worshipped… or cursed."
Her arms cut through the air in desperate motions. Crystals sparked to life, drifting above her hands, forming letters in the air. With each syllable, the glow intensified, devouring her strength. Her back arched, her voice rose to a scream—then collapsed into silence.
The prophecy's price had been claimed.
The shaman fell lifeless to the floor, spent like a candle. But above her, suspended in light, remained a single name:
BLAKE DUNZEL
The queen's ruby eyes narrowed, gleaming with predatory delight.
"Bring me Blake Dunzel," she said, her voice cold and sharp as drawn steel. A figure slid from the shadows—her masked confidante, silent as a wraith. Without hesitation, she issued the command:"Alive."
The words spread like wildfire. The chief inquisitor received them. The dreaded Void Squad received them. Across the kingdom, the hunt began.
Whispers of Treachery
But loyalty was never absolute. One of the Void Squad carried the message elsewhere—through hidden channels, into darker halls.
A duke, cloaked in secrecy, convened his conspirators. Twelve masked figures appeared around a flickering crystal sphere, their faces swallowed by shadow.
"Why waste time on a baron's brat?" one scoffed."A useless nobody," sneered another.
A hand slammed the table. The leader's masked gaze silenced them all.
"He is not to reach the queen. No loose ends. Erase him—before the festival, before her hounds arrive. Post a bounty. Ten thousand gold for his head. Make it clean. Make it vanish."
The circle of masks nodded. Assassins would be unleashed before dawn.
Blood in the Deep
Far below the kingdom's surface, another story unfolded.
A torch-lit corridor led to a forgotten altar, its stone scarred with centuries of sacrifice. Black-robed cultists knelt, their hems lined with violet and red, their chant echoing through the chamber like a rising tide.
A man lay bound in chains, wrists and ankles bleeding against the iron. His muffled cries vanished beneath the hymn of voices.
The leader stepped forward, dagger gleaming with violet flame. His words tore the air open. With one swift strike, the blade cut across the victim's throat.
Blood gushed onto the altar, rushing into carved runes that lit with terrible hunger. The air curdled. A mist of blackness rose, twisting, writhing, clawing upward.
A hand broke through—monstrous, malformed, not of man nor god. It strained against the veil of the world, but the ritual faltered. The mist collapsed, the claw dragged back into the abyss.
"Not enough…" the leader spat, slamming his grimoire against the stone. His eyes burned with madness."We need more sacrifices. More!"
And so, before Hwi-seong ever awakened as Blake Dunzel, the stage had already been set.
The queen's prophecy. The nobles' conspiracy. The cult's blood ritual.
Threads of destiny pulled tight, all converging toward a single, fragile life.
The name Blake Dunzel had already shaken the world—long before he even opened his eyes.