It has been many years since the great descent—the moment Kairo entered the mortal realm under the veil of destiny. Time had flowed like an ancient river, carving the path of fate while the boy who was once at the center of divine chaos grew quietly, unseen, and unawakened.
Kairo was now eighteen.
No longer the fragile child Evalof had carried away through celestial flames, he had grown into a slender, dark-skinned youth of average height and lean muscles. His eyes, golden brown with a strange depth, always seemed to look just past reality. Yet for all his quiet charisma, Kairo was neither powerful nor talented—at least, not in the ways that mattered to the world he lived in.
He trained at Addson Dojo.
Tucked into the outskirts of the small African federation state of Zuwar, the Addson Dojo was known—when it was known at all—as the weakest recognized training ground on the continent. Built of patched stone and corrugated steel, it lacked the shining weapons, spirit-infused rings, and mana-boosted arenas of the higher-tier dojos. There were no glowing ranks here, no chosen ones—only orphans, misfits, and commoners.
And Kairo fit in perfectly.
The reason was simple: he had no magic.
Despite his intense training, unmatched stamina, and a strange battle intuition, he could not channel even a wisp of elemental energy. His mana flow was blocked, sealed, or simply non-existent. Every test by Addson's elder instructors came up with the same result: Kairo was a dead circuit.
What none of them knew—what only one celestial being, Evalof the Last Flame, understood—was that Kairo's very soul had been veiled. Locked not by nature, but by divine will.
Evalof's Flashback - The Night of Sealing
High above the skies of Earth, amidst storms of dimensional energy, Evalof had sealed the essence of the God King within Kairo.
"This world is not ready," Evalof murmured, placing his hand upon the sleeping child's chest. The divine flame in his palm shimmered—warm, yet untouchable. "You are my last hope, Kairo... and the only chance left for the realms to unite."
He summoned the Veil of Mortus, an ancient celestial seal that could suppress divinity and magic alike, wrapping it around the boy's soul.
"Live as one of them. Grow among them. And when the time is right, you will rise."
The fire dimmed. The boy's golden aura faded.
And Kairo slept as only a mortal could.
The Federation System
In this modern age of awakened combatants, the world was ruled not by nations, but by Federations—continents bound by combat guilds and Adventurer's Guide Federations (AGF). The AGF acted as a global governing body over warriors, mercenaries, beast hunters, and dungeon explorers. Each continent had its own divisions: states, regions, guild sectors.
Ranking began with Dojo Trials—local competitions between training schools.
Winners advanced to State-Level Arena Cups. From there, champions were scouted for the Continental Federation Ranks, which included the elite S-Class Guilds and the legendary Adventurer Councils.
Few from Addson ever made it past the local stage.
Kairo's Present
He had just completed his morning kata, sweat glistening off his skin under the harsh African sun. Beside him, a cracked wooden post stood worn from countless strikes. His movements were sharp—perfect, almost unnaturally so. But still, the wind did not answer to him. The earth did not tremble. The skies remained indifferent.
"Still wasting your time with those basic drills?" a voice called out.
It was Ramon, a hot-headed student from the neighboring dojo, Shinto Fang. He walked with an energy whip coiled around his arm, crackling faintly with blue lightning.
"You'll be nothing but a side character in the tournament again," he sneered. "Or are you still waiting for your 'magic' to appear?"
Kairo said nothing. He turned and bowed slightly, not in submission, but in restraint.
What they didn't understand—what no one could feel—was the flame asleep beneath his ribs.
A God King's heart.
And it was starting to stir.