The village bustled gently—wooden houses lined the stone road where townsfolk crossed paths, trading smiles and baskets of goods.
Children in neat uniforms walked side by side, their laughter ringing clear, books etched with faint runes tucked under their arms.
At the far end stood the school, five stories high, its walls of carved wood and stone alive with old symbols.
At front a small iron gate marked the entrance.
Young students filed inside, their chatter rising like gentle whisper along the way.
At the center of the crowd—Zeke walked steadily, holding her sister's little hand. Her round, rosy cheeks bounced with every step as she hummed softly with a playful children's tune.
Nothing unusual happen... Until —
"Big bro Zeke…?" she said with her cute little voice.
Zeke didn't answer with words, only a low sound rumbling from his throat.
"Hmm?"
Emelia's bright expression shifted, curiosity tugging at her features as she asked,
"Did the school… change the proper uniforms?"
Zeke's brows knitted together.
"No… why?"
Emelia blinked, her little voice piping up again,
"Then… why are you wearing different shoes?"
Zeke froze mid-step. Slowly, his eyes dropped—sure enough, one foot wore a polished brown leather shoe, the other, a shiny black.
"Heh?"
So he'd been marching all this time like a walking fashion disaster.
His face stayed neutral, but Joseph's calm expression almost cracked. Still, he kept his tone steady, spinning it without a blink:
"Ah… yes. Didn't you know? They changed the school shoe attire. It's… the latest trend."
Emelia tilted her head, nodded seriously, and looked down at the mismatched shoes again.
"Ohhh… fashionable…" she whispered.
Around them, the other kids tried to stifle their giggles. Some pointed, some whispered, and one boy even whispered,
"Maybe he's starting a new style..."
"This is a disaster" he thought.
***
Not far from the corner, beneath the shade of a tall oak tree, their a group of kids gathered, each eager to prove something to themselves.
One boy strained, sparks crackling weakly from his fingertips before fizzling out with a faint pop.
"See that? I can almost make an electric sphere!" he boasted.
The others gasped in awe.
"Wow! Jerick, you're amazing! How did you do that?"
The boy grinned, swiping his nose with mock swagger.
"Well," he said proudly,
"it just takes time and effort before you can master it."
"Cool! I wish my elemental soul was energy too…" one of them mumbled, with envy.
"Yeah me too..."
The boy smirked even wider, basking in their admiration.
Then —for the next second, a yellow-haired boy caught sight of Zeke walking with his little sister at his side.
He nudged the others and whispered with a chuckle,
"Hey, guys… look. It's Zeke."
All of their attention shifted instantly, their voices lowering into eager murmurs. The boy named Jerick, however, crossed his arms and let a crooked smirk spread across his face.
"Well, well, well… if it isn't the reject." His tone dripped with mockery,
The boys exchanged glances, grins tugging at their lips as five of them started toward Zeke. Trying to walk like a swagger.
Jerick smirked again as he stepping into their path,
"Wait watcha goin?"
His voice loud enough for the crowd to hear.
Zeke just glance with serious expression without even blinking while starting to feeling confused.
"Zeke… how are you? Tell me, why do you even bother coming to school, men?" His arms spread casually, blocking the way.
However Joseph didn't falter. He walked past without a glance, his grip firm around Emelia's small hand. His silence alone was enough to gnaw at him.
"Hey, Zeke,"
Jerick pressed on, his grin twisting sharper as his friends watching his back.
"watch your manners, huh? Going to your classroom? Funny—cause last I checked, the rejects are supposed to head that way." He jabbed a finger toward the exit, his friends erupting into laughter.
Zeke kept walking, face unreadable, but Emelia stopped short maid zeke paused for a brief moment. Her little cheeks flushed red, her voice bursting out, high and unshaken.
"My brother is not a reject!" She said
However Her tiny defiance only fueled the pack's laughter. The boys clutched their stomachs, mocking her words.
"Of course he is, pipsqueak. He can't even do mana control cause his a reject" the boy Jerick barked as his friend repeated his words.
"Yeah reject"
"Reject!"
Zeke gently pulled her little sister's hand as they both continue their walk...
Jerick laugh cracking loud as the others joined in trying to showoff their own Elemental magic towards zeke...
"What a weak loser!"
The laughter rang.
But then—Zeke suddenly stopped. His steps halted mid-road. Slowly, he turned his head, eyes locking onto them.
"Yeah… you're right," Zeke said calmly, his tone almost casual.
"I can't do magic."
For a moment, the laughter swelled—until a grin curved on Zeke's lips, sharp and taunting.
"But you know what? That makes things better… because magic—" he leaned forward slightly, voice dropping into a razor whisper
"—is for cowards who need to hide behind tricks."
It cut through like blades...
The Jerick stood frozen for a heartbeat, Zeke's words gnawing at his pride. His fists clenched tight, as his teeth ground together.
"What… what did you just say?" he growled, his voice trembling with rage.
"Say that again."
However Joseph mocked him— he didn't even turn to look. Only tightened his grip on Emelia's hand and kept walking.
"You're not deaf, right? Then you heard me."
Jerick's face twisted with fury.
"Are you mocking me?"
Sparks cracked at his knuckles, arcs of blue dancing wildly, the smell of singed air filling the space.
"Is that so?" His voice rose, sharp while his friends behind tries to calm him.
"Uhm ah? Jerick? Theirs to many eyes watching theirs nothing to get serious."
Then he pulled his body toward Zeke.
"Then know your place, loser!"
He lunged, electricity snapping across his fist as he thrust it forward, aiming straight for Zeke with all the reckless.
But... His strike never found its mark. The moment his fist swung forward, Zeke tilted his head aside, his body twisting with sharp precision. His leg whipped around in a sudden spin, driving his heel straight into Jerick's stomach.
WHAM!
One hit. That was all it took. Jerick's body lurched backward, the air knocked from his lungs as he crashed to the ground, coughing and gasping.
Silence swallowed the courtyard. Every student froze, eyes locked on the scene. Their "electric prodigy" had been flattened.
"D… did you see that?" one kid whispered,
"Not him again."
"whos that…" another added, eyes wide.
"oh that's Zeke... his dangerous, so don't ever try to mess with him…" and another whisper with warning.
"Ohh this going to be interesting."and more whisper with excitement.
Their whispers echoed like ghost. As zeke stood at the center of it all.
Unshaken. Slowly, he cracked his knuckles, the sound echoing in the stillness. His smirk curved sharp and merciless.
"Loser…?" he echoed, voice low. "Just because you gain some fancy staff that you've forgotten who I am."
"Losers like you…" he leaned forward, grin widening like a predator's, "…are nothing but my prey."
***
In this world, people are divided by classes of mana and power. Strength is everything—through power one gains respect, influence, and the right to stand above others.
But with such power comes responsibility, for those chosen are given a single name… Heroes.
From a young age, every child is tested—measured not only by their mana but also by their capabilities and potential in battle.
A place where all children dream of entering is the Golden Continent Academy—the central academy where young heroes are trained to become the next generation of legends.
When a child reaches the age of eleven, a sacred tradition is held: the Awakening of the Elemental Soul. Every living being is born with one, tied to elements such as fire, ice, water, air, earth, energy, dark, and light. The awakening is done through the use of Mana Obsidian, a stone that channels reverse mana flow, forcing out the dormant soul while measuring the child's control level.
These levels are ranked by percentages:
Ten percent and above – the Transcendents, the rarest and most revered.
Ten to eight percent– the Gifted. Hailed as prodigies.
Eight to five – High-level talents. Promising and respected.
Five to three percent – Moderates. The backbone of the society.
And lastly Below three percent – the weakest of the weak, unable to wield mana properly. Also called reject.
***
And then there was Zeke… the boy who shocked even the cruelest expectations. During his awakening, his mana control was recorded at zero...point ... eigh percent—so low that his elemental soul could not even be revealed. To the world, he was a failure, a reject.
But however, Zeke was different since he was born. avoided by many, some say he was cursed, possessing a such strength and intelligent at a young age.
No child in his village—no matter their element—ever dared to stand toe-to-toe against him in a fight without even mana...
***
A chubby boy growled, though his voice wavered with fear.
"Y-you won't get away with this!"
Zeke tilted his head, eyes gleaming with a dangerous thrill. He cracked his knuckles, lips curling mockingly.
"Ohhh really..? Then what are you waiting for... bring it."
The crowd instantly swelled with excitement, circling. A single chant erupted, growing louder with every second:
"FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT!"
The word thundered across the schoolyard, echoing through the air, the ground itself trembling with their voices...
However —
"ZEKEEEE!"
The roar cut through the chaos like a blade. The crowd froze. Silence dropped heavy.
"Come. To. The. Principal's Office… NOW!"