Marcus sat alone in his room, surrounded by scattered scrolls and folders. The dim candlelight flickered across his desk as he sifted through the latest reports from his spies.
Page after page revealed secrets, betrayals, and political intrigues—but none mentioned the one name he sought. Then, his eyes caught a peculiar report buried beneath the pile.
"The old man attended King Charles's gathering to meet Ron.
The same old man last appeared more than five hundred years ago.
Even King Charles himself seemed astonished and grew curious about Ron."
Marcus's eyes widened.
"Who is this Ron…?" he muttered, the words barely escaping his lips.
Meanwhile, far from the palace walls, Ron felt a sudden ripple of dark energy nearby. He turned toward its source—and saw King Alberto.
Ron's gaze hardened. The aura around Alberto was heavy, twisted, and eerily familiar. After a moment of silent observation, Ron's expression darkened.
He's a user of Black Sorcery, Ron realized.
Later that night, Ron entered the royal library. The silence was broken only by the soft rustle of ancient pages as he searched through the shelves. His eyes stopped at a line in an old history book:
"Thousands of years ago, in the southern lands of the mainland (present-day Song Empire), there lived an old man in a cave. He prayed to a name he called 'True King.'
After decades of devotion, during one of his prayers, a light appeared, and a single parchment fell before him.
Written upon it was the art of Black Sorcery.
With this forbidden power, the man founded the Perctic Empire—known today as the Song Empire."
Ron's heart pounded.
The True Black Sorcerer? Was he the first ever Black Sorcerer? he thought. Wulkranoth never mentioned him…
He returned the book to its place and kept searching, but after an hour of fruitless effort, he leaned back with a sigh. Then, a thought struck him. A smile crept onto his face.
"The book written by Dream," he whispered. "That'll have the answers."
In an instant, Ron teleported back to his hotel room. He opened his bag and took out the worn, glowing book.
"Please," he said softly, "tell me about this Black Sorcerer."
As he opened the book, words began to form across the pages in shifting light.
Contents of the Book:
Origin of Black Sorcery
The True Black Sorcerer
"When light and shadow were yet unborn, one walked between them."
He and the First Watcher were cousins.
(As Ron read, Dream's voice began to echo through his mind, narrating the text.)
He was the first being—alongside the First Watcher—to touch the Primordial Void.
From that endless darkness, he drew forth the first thread: black, silent, and infinite.
That moment marked the birth of Black Sorcery.
His true name has long been erased—not forgotten, but forbidden.
Even Dr. Thomas, who rediscovered the art millennia later, called him only The Origin.
Some texts name him Noctherion, "The One Who Stood Before Time."
Others call him The First Hand of the Void.
His power grew beyond comprehension—until even his body dissolved into shadow.
The Beings of Prime sealed his essence deep beneath the multiverse,
in a prison said to exist between dream and death.
But fragments of his will remained.
Every century, a few souls—strong, cursed, or defiant—awaken traces of his power.
Dr. Thomas was one.
And the one reading this may be another.
It is said that when a mortal truly masters Black Sorcery,
the True Black Sorcerer awakens within them—his soul reborn through their vessel.
The first Emperor of the Perctic Empire (modern-day Song Kingdom)
attempted to summon him, but failed. Yet the True Black Sorcerer took interest in him
and granted him the power of Black Sorcery—blessing his descendants
to one day awaken the True One.
A prophecy reads:
"When the Black Flame burns through the heart of man,
And the world forgets the color of light,
The True One shall rise again,
And existence shall kneel before the Void."
Ron's eyes widened as the final line appeared.
He shut the book slowly. "That Black Sorcerer… is a threat beyond anything."
A cold wind brushed the curtains. Ron clenched his fist.
Why do I feel like someone's trying to bring him back?
His gaze turned grim.
"Alberto… and the Song Kingdom," he whispered.