There are five major nations on this continent, along with several minor ones scattered across its forests, plains, deserts, and swamps.
Of the five, Four Stars Academy exists as an independent state situated between two powerful nations—Faulmuth to the west and the Taltaba Federation to the north.
Part of the reason the Academy was established in this location was to end the long-standing war of attrition between Faulmuth and Taltaba. Their century-long conflict had led to the decimation of countless lives and cities as both sides vied for control of the contested land. This region, rich with field-type dungeons, was a monster-infested goldmine. From low-level slimes to Grand Scorpions and Chimera Ant Queens, it was teeming with some of the deadliest creatures known. Whoever held it would gain unlimited access to SE stones of all types and grades.
And so, the two nations fought.
Until one day, June stepped in and singlehandedly ended the war.
The other three major nations are the Royal Kingdom of Carcarcat in the far east, Brandish to the south of Four Stars, and Marcellona, an island kingdom off the coast, surrounded by a ring of smaller, independent island nations.
Southwest of Brandish lies the Dekka Mountain Range, a towering formation surrounded by a sprawling network of cities at its base. This region falls under the dominion of Carpathia. It was here, in one of those cities, that Itekan was born and raised before entering Four Stars Academy.
Even farther north—farther than most dare to travel—are the Frost Mountains, where the sun rarely breaks through the dense fog. Temperatures drop to -15°C on the coldest days and rarely rise above 12°C even in the warmest seasons.
Among the plains north of Faulmuth lies what was once a minor nation—a stretch of mountains called the Wanderlands of the Waste. The region used to house dozens of small cities that had banded together into a united territory. But during a devastating demonic beast invasion, most of these cities were reduced to rubble. Itoyea's village was among those destroyed.
At the farthest edge of the mountain range lies a hidden valley, from which flows a river that cuts eastward into the territory of one of the Five Legends—Enasto Ransthrol, also known as the Flame Fist Emperor. From that river onward, the land belongs to him, known across the continent as the Territory of the Dead Men Ship.
Enasto's land is divided into several counties, each governed by one of his descendants upon coming of age. It is in one of these counties that Avery Ransthrol was born and lived before enrolling at Four Stars.
No one entered this territory without permission. The locals were born there, lived there, and died there. They grew their own food and ate what they harvested. Sons joined mercenary companies when they came of age, and daughters were either married off to high-ranking officials or taken as concubines for the sons of Enasto.
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Now...
A narrow path twisted its way toward a heavily guarded estate. A small cart, pulled by a single horse, creaked along the trail. Seated in the cart was a man in a straw hat, its brim lowered to conceal his face. Wisps of purple hair fluttered with every bump in the road.
At the estate's iron gate stood two guards—though they looked more like street thugs than actual soldiers. They stepped in front of the cart, swaggering with overconfidence.
"Who are you?! Let's see some identification, bozo!" the first barked, his lips moving in a comically exaggerated fashion.
"Yeah! No papers, no entry! New law!" shouted the second, spewing spit like a leaky faucet.
The man in the cart said nothing.
When they didn't get a reply, they defaulted to the only language they truly understood—violence.
Gripping their weapons, they stepped forward.
"Yo, mister! You deaf?!" the first guard growled, unsheathing his blade and pointing it toward the silent figure.
"Yeah, we's talking to ya!" the second chimed in, snapping open the bladed end of his nunchaku.
"Call your supervisors," the man said softly.
"Huh?!" the first guard blinked, confused—and insulted. The nerve of this man... he was ignoring them! Disrespecting them!
"Boy, you don't—!"
The thug-guard raised his weapon to strike.
And then he locked eyes with the man in the cart.
Cold. Dark.
His blood turned to ice.
He collapsed, trembling violently.
Suddenly, the air shifted. Dense. Suffocating. Unnatural.
The man stepped down from the cart and took hold of the horse's reins. Both guards were now groveling, paralyzed beneath the crushing weight of his presence.
He approached the gate and knocked—two knocks, pause, one, pause, five, pause, four.
The gate creaked open.
More guards flooded out, weapons raised, ready to strike. But the man didn't advance.
"Who commands this gate? Bring me to him," he said, calm but forceful. His words carried such weight that everyone below Advanced Blue-Eyes rank froze in place.
"I do," came a voice from behind the wall of soldiers.
A path cleared as a sharp-eyed, rigidly disciplined man stepped forward—the gate commander.
"Who are you?" the commander asked.
The man removed his hat, eyes gleaming with power.
"I am Carpathia Lie. Let me in."
This time, his voice was fully unleashed.
No one dared stop him again.
Spiritual Energy (SE)
Spiritual Sea (SS)
Spiritual Signature (SST)