Several weeks had passed since Aris first awakened his Origin Power. His training under Juro was relentless and merciless. Every day was a cycle of pain, failure, and small, hard-won progress. Now, he could do more than just create a small ball of light. He began to channel the silvery-white energy throughout his body, sharpening his senses and quickening his movements. He could even coat his sword in a thin sheath of energy, making it gleam with a faint, deadly light.
That morning, Aris was in the underground training arena, alone. Sweat beaded on his temples as he swung his sword, trying to keep the energy coating stable. The sword felt lighter, sharper, as if it were an extension of his will. However, his concentration was broken by a series of loud, repetitive thuds from the other side of the arena.
THWACK! THWACK! CRASH!
Aris turned, his breath catching slightly. There, a young man he had never seen before was destroying a metal-plated training dummy with controlled ferocity. Each slash of his sword was so fast and precise that it sent splinters of wood and metal flying into the air. His movements were a brutal fusion of a trained knight's strength and grace.
What was most striking was his appearance. His hair was a vibrant green, moving wildly like emerald fire every time he spun. His eyes, even from a distance, seemed to glint coldly with a matching color. Aris could feel a dense aura from him—not just power, but also a deep-seated hatred and pain, locked tightly behind a flat expression.
Just then, Juro strolled into the arena, a faint smile on his lips. "Making progress, kid?" he greeted Aris, before his eyes shifted to the green-haired youth. "Ah, it seems you've seen Viren. He's a new member too, joined a few months before you."
Juro raised his voice. "Viren! Over here for a second!"
The young man named Viren stopped his assault. His sword halted just an inch from the neck of the already demolished dummy. He sheathed his sword in a single, fluid motion and walked over. His stride was firm, and his cold, emerald gaze locked onto Aris, scrutinizing him from head to toe with a condescending look.
"Aris, this is Viren. He'll be your partner on the next mission," Juro said in a flat tone, as if deliberately lighting a fire in a pile of dry hay.
Viren snorted softly, a sound laden with contempt. "So this is my new partner?" he said, his voice sharp and cold. "A spoiled prince from Thalassos who lost everything because he was too naive? I work alone, Juro."
"Orders are orders," Juro replied curtly, completely unfazed.
Viren now stared straight into Aris's eyes, ignoring Juro completely. "Listen, Cean. I'm not here to babysit some lost boy trying to find himself. Stay out of my way, or I'll make sure you can't walk again."
The use of his family name felt like an insult, a reminder of the past Aris had cast aside. But the Aris of today was not the easily provoked young nobleman. His weeks in Veritas had forged him to be colder and more pragmatic.
He met Viren's gaze with an equally frosty calm. "My purpose here isn't to make friends, Aerion. My purpose is to complete the mission. As long as you don't mess it up with that childish temper of yours, we won't have a problem."
The tension between them was so thick the air felt heavy. A spark of hatred flashed in Viren's eyes, while Aris remained unmoved.
Suddenly, Juro burst out laughing. A loud laugh that echoed through the arena, causing a few other Veritas members to turn and look curiously.
"Hahaha! Good! Very good!" Juro exclaimed, clapping both young men hard on the shoulder. "The spirit of youth is truly something. Unfortunately, you're channeling it in the wrong place."
He looked at them both with a grin. "Save that spirit for the mission. You're going to need it."
Juro then continued in a more serious tone. "And one more thing. In Veritas, your family names mean nothing. You are no longer Cean or Aerion. You are just Aris and Viren. Two swords belonging to the organization. Understood?"
Both Aris and Viren gave a short nod, their gazes still locked in a silent battle.
"Good," Juro said. "You leave tomorrow morning. Your mission: infiltrate the fortress of Baron Kale, a weapons smuggler on the northern border. Our intel reports he has just received a shipment of a dangerous artifact. Your job is to find out what that artifact is, and if necessary, destroy it."
Juro paused, his gaze sharpening as he swept it over the two young men. "And don't think of this as just some common bandit hunt. This is much bigger than that."
He motioned for them to approach a table in the corner of the arena, where a rough map of the continent was spread out. "You both come from a world full of rules and alliances. It's time you saw the bigger picture, the real picture."
Juro's finger pointed to several regions on the map. "This continent is divided. There are two major factions in a cold war, jockeying for power. On one side, you have the Divine Supremacy Alliance. They believe the gods have the absolute right to dictate human destiny, and that power is the only truth."
Juro pointed to the Kingdom of Thalassos. "This faction is led by the Goddess Aqua, with the Kingdom of Thalassos as its spearhead. Her allies are the God Gaia from the sturdy Kingdom of Terrasolidum, the God Ignis from the blazing Pyralia Sultanate, the Goddess Umbra from the shadowy Noctumbra Domain, and..." Juro glanced at Viren. "...the Goddess Ba'al from the Anemoria Confederation, the land of wind where you're from."
Viren's jaw tightened at the mention of his home, but he said nothing.
"On the other side," Juro continued, his finger sliding to another region on the map, "is the Celestial Concordat. They oppose the domination of the Supremacy Alliance. They fight for balance, where humans and gods coexist, not as masters and slaves. This faction is led by the God Caelum and his beloved, the Goddess Lux, from the magnificent Kingdom of Aethelgard. They are supported by the God Kryos from the frozen Glacian Empire in the north. The Goddess Aether, the ruler of space, is also on their side, though she has no kingdom and moves as she pleases."
Aris absorbed the information, his mind racing. The world he knew—black and white, right and wrong—now seemed far more complex and gray.
"The Baron Kale you'll be facing," Juro tapped a point on the northern border, "operates in the gray area between the powers of Anemoria and Glacian. We believe he's not working alone. The weapons and artifacts he smuggles are most likely supplied by one faction to create chaos in the other's territory. This is a proxy war. Your job is to find out who the puppet master is and cut off the supply before this small conflict explodes into a major war near Varethra's territory."
Juro turned to leave, leaving the two of them in a dead silence. "Don't slow me down," Viren hissed before turning back to his training, unleashing his fury on the remains of the unfortunate dummy.
Aris just watched his back for a moment, then returned to his corner of the arena. He raised his sword, and this time, the sheath of silvery-white energy enveloping it seemed brighter and more stable than ever before. His first mission as a full member of Veritas was no longer just a task; it was the first step into a war of the gods. And he would be taking it with a rival who might be just as dangerous as the enemies they were about to face.