Arc 1: City of Mask
"We enter the city," I said, my voice steady. "Quietly. And on the way—tell me everything about the Aetherion"
Seraphina inclined her head, her hand resting on the pommel of her sword.
"As you command."
The sun was barely cresting the horizon when we merged into the steady stream of humanity flowing toward the city gates.
We were surrounded by the mundane: merchants cursing at mule carts, farmers hauling crates of vegetables, and weary travelers seeking a bed. Ahead, the city walls rose high—grey stone, weathered and scarred by centuries of sieges, but still standing proud. Banners snapped in the morning wind, displaying sigils I didn't yet recognize.
I felt a knot of tension in my gut as we neared the archway. Guards stood at the entrance, leaning on spears. They weren't the lazy watchmen of stories; their eyes were sharp, scanning the crowd for threats, for guilt, for magic.
I held my breath as a guard's gaze swept over me.
It moved on.
No system alert. No crack of divine lightning. No alarm bells.
I was just another face in the crowd.
We passed through the tunnel of the gatehouse and emerged into the city proper. The noise hit me first—a wall of sound. Vendors shouting prices, the rhythmic ringing of blacksmith hammers, the raucous laughter of adventurers recounting last night's exploits.
The city was alive, chaotic, and oblivious. They haggled over grain and laughed at bad jokes, blissfully ignorant that an anomaly—a glitch in their world's logic—had just walked in among them.
Seraphina walked a half-step behind me. She had traded her ethereal presence for the dull, practical aura of a skilled mercenary. Her eyes were lowered, her gait steady but unremarkable. She was perfectly camouflaged.
"Keep walking," she murmured, her voice barely audible over the din of the market. "Do not stare."
We moved through the crowded streets, navigating the press of bodies.
"Tell me about the threats," I whispered.
"The Holy See of Sanctus," she answered, her lips barely moving. "They claim to serve the gods. They control the healing magic, the blessings, the resurrection rites. But their true purpose is regulation."
"Basically, this world divide in 6 kingdom and church kingdom":
⛪ The Central Power (The "Little Kingdom")
Name:The Holy See of Sanctus
Location:The Isle of Primus. A heavily fortified, artificial-looking island located in the exact center of the Inner Sea. All trade routes between the other continents must pass near it.
Power Source: The Church of Radiant Order.
Influence: Technically the smallest nation, but politically the absolute ruler.
Monopoly on Miracles: Controls Resurrection and High-Healing.
The Hero Council: Licenses and controls summoned Heroes.
The Inquisitors: Hunts Anomalies.
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👑 The Six Great Kingdoms
1.) The Iron Kingdom of Valoria
Location:The Western Highlands. A massive, mountainous peninsula that acts as a natural fortress. It borders the dangerous "Deadlands" to the west, meaning they are always fighting.
Archetype: Military / Knights / Honor.
Vibe: Massive stone castles built into cliffs, steel-clad legions, strict hierarchy.
Specialty: Heavy Infantry and anti-monster warfare.
Relation to Church: Loyal. They are the "Sword" of the Church.
2.) The Arcanum of Mystralia
Location:The Sky-Reach Peaks (Northwest). A region of incredibly high mountains where the air is thin and Mana is thick. The capital doesn't touch the ground; it floats above the highest peak.
Archetype: Magic / Scholars / Flying Cities.
Vibe: Towers floating on ley lines, universities, glowing crystals, perpetual twilight.
Specialty: Magic research, airships, and artifact creation.
Relation to Church: Tense. The Church dislikes their "science" of magic but needs their weapons.
3.) The Trade Union of Aurelia
Location:The Southern Archipelago & Coast. A sprawling network of port cities and islands. It controls the shipping lanes of the Inner Sea. (Current Location — specifically in the rural borderlands near the forest).
Archetype: Commerce / Mercenaries / Wealth.
Vibe: Bustling ports, gold-plated banks, crime syndicates, and massive bazaars.
Specialty: Economy, Information, and Naval Power.
Relation to Church: Transactional. They pay the Church massive bribes to ignore their black markets.
4.) The Frostborn Imperium of Norvengard
Location:The Glacial North. A frozen continent separated from the others by the "Shivering Sea." It is a land of eternal winter and auroras.
Archetype: Vikings / Survival / Strength.
Vibe: Longhouses, furs, giant rune-carved axes, tamed Dire Wolves.
Specialty: Berserkers and physical endurance. They believe the weak die in the snow.
Relation to Church: Indifferent. The Church's influence freezes and dies here.
5.) The Verdant Dominion of Sylvaris
Location:The Emerald East. A "Super-Forest" where trees rival mountains. Civilization lives in the sunlit Upper Canopy, while the Ground Floor is a realm of eternal night and monsters.
Demographics:The Primal Alliance. A coalition of races the Church deems "impure":
Elves: Rulers and magic users.
Beastkin: (Wolf/Bear/Cat-tribes) Warriors and scouts.
Dryads & Treants: Living defense systems.
Archetype: Nature / Unity of Races / Isolation.
Vibe: Bio-organic tree-cities connected by light-vines. Technology is grown, not built. The only safe haven for non-humans in the world.
Specialty: Guerrilla warfare, Beast Taming (riding Giant Eagles/Dire Wolves), and Alchemy that rivals Church healing.
Relation to Church:Hostile. The Church hunts Beastkin as "monsters." Sylvaris executes any Inquisitor who crosses their border on sight.
6.) The Sun-Kissed Caliphate of Solara
Location:The Shifting Sands (Southeast). A vast desert filled with ancient ruins buried under the dunes. Life exists only around the massive Oases.
Archetype: Desert / Assassins / Ancient History.
Vibe: Golden domes, underground libraries, wind-sand magic, hidden tombs.
Specialty: Speed, poisons, and "Old World" knowledge (they know the true history of Dungeons).
Relation to Church: Secretive. They pretend to obey, but hide forbidden texts from the Church.
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🌍 Current Geopolitics
The Balance: The Six Kingdoms are constantly on the verge of war with each other, but the Holy See of Sanctus keeps the peace by threatening to cut off healing magic or recall Heroes from any nation that starts a war without permission.
Our Position: We are currently in the borderlands of Aurelia, where money rules and the Church's gaze is slightly weaker—making it the perfect place for an Anomaly to hide.
We passed a group of priests in white robes. They were smiling, handing out bread to children. Seraphina didn't look at them, but her muscles tensed.
"They maintain Observers in every major city. They hunt anomalies, reincarnated souls, and anything that grows too fast. If they discover your System, they will not negotiate. They believe power must be rationed."
"And the Heroes?" I asked. "Are they allies?"
"Heroes are summoned weapons wearing human skin," she said, the words cold and sharp. "They are chosen by nations using ancient rituals. The world grants them limited, legal 'cheats'—powers that fit within the laws of reality. They are symbols. Soldiers. Deterrents."
She paused as a wagon rumbled past us.
"Most heroes peak early. They burn brightly... and then they are controlled, discarded, or they die. You are different, Kael. You grow without permission."
"Meaning I'm illegal."
"Meaning you are a cancer to their order," she corrected. "High-ranking priests can sense distortions in fate. Veteran heroes can feel the pressure of overwhelming potential. For now, you are beneath their notice. But that will not last."
We found the registry near the Adventurers' Guild. It was a dusty, bureaucratic office that smelled of ink and stale ale.
I stepped up to the counter. The clerk, a good-looking with perfect curve woman with ink-stained fingers, didn't even look up.
"Names?" she grunted, hovering her quill over a ledger.
"Kael," I said.
she wrote it down.
"And her?" she gestured vaguely at Seraphina.
"Seraphina," she answered, her voice level.
"Class?"
"Swordsman," I said. "Guardian," she added.
The clerk scribbled. "Solo or Party?"
I exchanged a glance with Seraphina. Solo adventurers were vulnerable; parties were a statistical norm.
"Party," I said firmly.
"Party Name?"
I paused. I needed something forgettable. Something that wouldn't draw attention on a ranking board.
"The Drifters."
"Leader?"
"I am," I said.
The clerk stamped two forms and tossed two small wooden badges onto the counter. They were rough-hewn, cheap, and utterly insignificant.
[Party Formed: The Drifters][Leader: Kael][Member: Seraphina][Rank: F]
"Don't die in the sewers," the clerk muttered, already waving the next person forward.
I pinned the badge to my cloak. Seraphina did the same. It was a small thing, but it bound us in the eyes of the world's system.
We stepped into the main Guild Hall.
The room was cavernous, filled with the smoke of roasting meat and the roar of a hundred conversations. But beneath the noise, I could feel the currents of the city.
I scanned the room, my new Combat Awareness skill prickling at the back of my neck.
To my left, a notice board overflowed with parchment—low-rank quests for herb gathering and rat killing. To my right, a table of leather-clad adventurers whispered in hushed tones. I caught fragments of their conversation: "...strange fluctuation in the valley...""...dungeon walls cracked..."
In the far corner, a priest sat alone. He wasn't drinking. He was watching the room with eyes that missed nothing.
Near the back, in the shadows of a pillar, a shady figure spun a coin through his fingers, catching the eye of anyone looking for information that couldn't be found on the official boards.
Seraphina leaned in close, her breath ghosting against my ear.
"Choose carefully, Master," she warned, her gaze flickering toward the priest. "Cities are more dangerous than dungeons. In the dark, you only have to worry about monsters. Here... everything is a trap."