The skies glowed red that night.
A fierce storm gathered over the kingdom of Tsukigane. The heavens clapped and cracked, not in anger, but in wonder, as something unprecedented entered the world.
In the upper chamber of the Aokami Clan estate, Lady Reina struggled in pain. Blood flowed like ink onto the floor, staining the polished marble with crimson. Her eyes, once bright as moonlight, faded with each effort.
The midwives rushed about, their Veil techniques glowing dimly in the chaos, but it was already far too late.
A cry pierced the storm. A heartbeat ceased.
Reina Aokami, the high priestess of the Moonlit Doctrine, had died while giving birth to a child who did not cry. A boy with pale, almost ghostly skin and eyes like starlit voids stared back with a cold gaze that seemed to see into the souls of everyone present.
The Veil around him shimmered oddly. The child had no aura, yet the chamber felt suffocating. Time itself slowed in his presence.
When Lord Daigen Aokami arrived, soaked in rain and madness, his eyes shot past the midwives to the lifeless body of his wife and the baby in her arms.
"No…" he murmured, trembling. "She gave her life for that?"
People said the boy had killed her. Not directly, but something about him, something not human, had drained her soul away.
Daigen refused to hold the child. He ordered that he be taken to the outer wing of the estate. No name was given. No ceremony. Just whispered titles.
The Veilborn.
Years passed.
The boy grew quietly, only watched by the old servant Issho, who treated him like a weapon on a shelf—cold and calculating. The boy spoke late, but when he did, he didn't ask questions; he stated conclusions.
He read texts meant for adults, unlocked sealed scrolls needing spiritual focus that most failed to learn for years, and did so effortlessly. Still, he never received praise.
In the inner chambers, the nobles whispered.
"He's cursed." "He should have been sealed." "He does not belong to this world."
But the boy never cared. He watched, learned, and waited.
On the eve of his twelfth year, something shifted.
A band of rogue Veilshapers broke into the estate, searching for forbidden relics. A raid of shadows and blood overwhelmed the guards.
One intruder found his way to the outer wing, where the boy lived.
The man saw only a small boy and grinned.
"Wrong place, little bastard—"
The boy raised one hand. He touched the Veil. The world froze.
The intruder's limbs twisted unnaturally. His scream ended abruptly as his Veil Soul—the spiritual essence of every living being—was ripped from his body and vanished.
When the others arrived, they found the boy kneeling calmly beside the corpse. His father stood at the back, silent.
"You… used Veil techniques without a class?" a noble whispered.
"No," the boy replied, his voice quiet and cold. "I used him. And now I know what I am."
He stood, an aura starting to form. A pulse unlike any other. Then, for the first time, he said his name aloud:
"Kiyoshi Haruto."
And every candle in the estate went dark!
On his eleventh birthday, Kiyoshi felt a pull and crept into the sealed family crypt under the Haruto estate. There, under the moon's watchful eye, he placed his hand on the marble of his mother's tomb.
The Veil responded.
Reality twisted.
A black ring appeared around his iris, and ghostly symbols burned into his spine. He screamed, but not from pain. He screamed from clarity.
Kiyoshi Haruto was born a Veilborn.
Not just a class.
A phenomenon.
His Veil did not grow from combat or ritual. It grew from death.
From the souls of the dead.
For the first time, he heard the voices of the Veil Souls—the echoes of those who had died. They whispered truths, regrets, and secrets. As he listened, he absorbed them.
He devoured them.
The soul of a killer gave him memories of a thousand kills.
The soul of a scholar gave him knowledge of forbidden Veilcraft.
The soul of a forgotten god whispered of something beyond gods.
"There is a place beyond even the Throne, child…"
And so, the world would never be the same again.