Opening Chapter: The Stellar Eye and the Vortex of Death
The cosmos stretched on forever, a timeless tapestry of starlight and swirling nebulas. In a quiet corner of this infinite expanse, a planet drifted far from its sun. Life flourished here. The ancient civilization that inhabited it believed in a mythology of gods and goddesses, a foundation for their society. For those who prayed, miracles and divine blessings were said to descend from the heavens. This planet, a hundred times larger than an ordinary star, was impossibly rich with resources and energy, making its inhabitants a thousand times more powerful than beings from other worlds.
Four great empires dominated the four cardinal continents. In the East, a land of ancient martial arts traditions and intricate Qi cultivation. In the West, a kingdom ruled by a grand order of powerful knights and their magnificent castles. In the North, home to the formidable and war-like Titan race. And in the South, a mystical land where the Dark Elves practiced their potent, ancient magic.
But between these four great powers lay a vast, terrifying mystery. A continent shrouded in perpetual mist and surrounded by a boundless ocean, home to monstrous sea beasts and violent, extreme weather. This mysterious land was known only as the Black Zone, a place where survival was a near-impossible dream.
In a remote island located in the southern part of this perilous ocean, far from the empires, a small, isolated tribe lived in peaceful harmony. It was here, in this secluded paradise, that a boy was born. His eyes, a twin nebula swirling with cosmic light, were a breathtaking galaxy of shimmering color—a divine gift. The tribespeople bore witness to this miracle, their voices filled with awe and reverence. "Has he been blessed by the gods? Oh, thank you, great deities, for this gift to us, your mortal servants!" they cried out. But a divine blessing always came at a steep price.
The boy's mother, her breath growing shallow, used her last strength to call for the chieftain. Everyone knew her time was short. Hysterical screams tore through the air. The villagers' feet raced without direction, their trembling hands parted bushes, their cracked voices calling out Zeos's name. When Zeos heard the news, he ran, his heart heavy. He was about to witness the passing of someone he held in the highest esteem. The boy's mother, her breaths coming in ragged gasps, made one last plea.
"Zeos… please… I… entrust… my son… to you," she whispered, her gaze soft, yet filled with a mother's fierce love. "His name is Zego. His beautiful, stellar eyes… they are just like his father's…"
Deep sorrow etched Zeos's face. He could only nod, silenced by the grief. The breath of the woman he loved rattled, then fell still. His heart seized in his chest. Then, his voice trembling, he spoke a vow. "I swear on the heavens and the universe as my witness, I will protect him until my last breath."
From that day on, Zeos became the boy's father. With boundless love, he raised Zego. He passed on all his knowledge: the secrets of the tribe's martial arts, the stories of their ancestors, and even the wisdom of the sea flowers that bloomed only in the tenth month. Zego grew under the guidance of Zeos, a tribal chief with a heroic presence and a body marked by the scars of countless battles. Zego, a model of discipline, never once shirked his duties, no matter how hard the training became.
One day, as Zeos guided Zego's hand in a precise blocking technique, he explained the world's hierarchy of power. The explanation wasn't a lesson but a tale, told between the rustling of leaves and the rhythm of their movements. He started from the lowest rank, detailing the entire system: Tier 10 (Novice), Tier 9 (One Star), Tier 8 (Two Star), Tier 7 (Three Star), Tier 6 (Four Star), Tier 5 (Five Star), Tier 4 (Celestial), Tier 3 (Paragon), Tier 2 (Ascendant), Tier 1 (Absolute), and Tier 0 (Divine). Each tier, he explained, had five levels: Low, Mid, High, Advance, and Peak.
"There are four different core energies that govern our world," Zeos continued, his voice steady. He closed his eyes, and a faint silver haze shimmered around his hands—a telltale sign of his mastery. "The Qi of the East, the Rage of the North, the Aura of the West, and the Mana of the South. Right now, you are learning to harness your Aura."
Zeos explained the strengths and weaknesses of each core energy. The long conversation eventually lulled Zego to sleep.
But one day, the peace was shattered. For several days, the surrounding ocean grew eerily calm. An unusual smell of salt and decay began to fill the air, and no fishermen who had sailed into the deep sea ever returned. Zeos's instincts screamed. Something is wrong. He immediately prepared for every possible outcome.
The next day, a colossal shadow, impossibly fast, shot from the ocean depths toward the island. Without warning, a monstrous form burst from the water. A wave of rotten salt and iron-tinged blood crashed over the village as it surfaced. The villagers screamed in terror, their eyes wide with fear. "S-SEA BEAST!" they shrieked.
Its body, like an eel's, was wrapped in an intimidating aura, yet its head and feet were that of a dragon's. Its eyes glowed a malevolent, fiery red, radiating a chilling bloodlust. With a thunderous roar, it descended upon the village, swallowing innocent lives and obliterating homes in a single, devastating sweep.
Amidst the chaos, Zego froze. His cosmic eyes, usually so peaceful, were now filled with horror as he stared at the dragon. Run! his instincts screamed. But my feet are stuck to the coral. A cold, primal trauma crept into his mind.
"Zego! Get out of here!" Zeos yelled, his voice laced with desperation as he appeared.
The beast, noticing Zego, immediately shifted its attention. A deafening roar tore through the air, and it prepared to strike the boy.
Zeos leaped, his powerful body shielding his son from the impending attack. He summoned his Holy Spear, Stellaris Lance, from his blood, a magnificent weapon that trembled with a terrifying energy. With a deep breath, he activated his breathing technique, causing his muscles to heat up and his blood to surge. With a powerful roar, he took a stance, his spear trembling in his hand. The air around him suddenly smelled of ozone, as if electricity were tearing through space.
"First Technique: Starfall Barrage!"
Zeos launched a series of rapid, deadly thrusts into the air. The spear, leaving a trail of shimmering, silvery-white light, pierced the air and flew toward the beast like a meteor shower. The dragon, despite its massive size, proved incredibly nimble. It ducked and weaved, effortlessly avoiding every single strike. Zeos was stunned. What incredible speed, he thought, a cold dread washing over him. He knew he had to lure the beast away from Zego.
He retreated, forcing the dragon toward the ocean. The battle raged on the shores, now stained crimson with the blood of the villagers. The dragon, realizing Zeos was stalling, became enraged. It began to gather a dense blue ball of energy in its mouth, a pulsating sphere of raw power. With a thunderous roar, it fired the blast directly at Zeos. Zeos quickly dodged the attack. The energy blast tore a gaping, smoldering hole in the very foundation of the island.
Zeos, pouring every last bit of his strength into his next attack, leaped high into the air. His spear shone brightly, tearing through the sky. The clouds above him were pushed aside, creating a dense, swirling vortex of pure white energy.
"Fifth Technique: Sky Splitter!"
The devastating attack shot forward with such incredible speed that the dragon had no time to react. The shockwave from Zeos's spear ripped through the beast's body, shattering a portion of its scales and causing a thick, dark liquid to gush from its wounds.
Heavily injured, the dragon let out a pained shriek. "Damn you, human!"
Zeos was shocked; the monster could speak. The dragon attempted to regenerate, but the wound left by the Holy Spear was impossible for it to heal. The dragon dove into the sea, hoping its normally miraculous regeneration would save it.
Zeos, however, would not give it the chance. He leaped toward the ocean. But the dragon was faster. It dove deep into the ocean floor, then began to spin at a truly impossible speed.
Seawater spun. Expanded. It vomited upward into a sky-piercing hurricane. Everything—huts, palm trees, screaming villagers—vanished into its maw. Through his shock, Zego watched as the people he had known all his life were pulverized into dust as they were pulled into the storm of death.
Zeos saw the tragic sight. He knew the dragon didn't just want to escape; it wanted to sink the entire island. An island of this size, it wanted to erase it completely. Zeos was powerless to stop it. In a desperate move, he grabbed Zego and ran across the water with extraordinary speed, fleeing the vortex that was devouring their world.
Far out in the endless ocean, Zeos stopped, his eyes falling upon Zego, the only one left. His heart was shattered, but in his son's stellar eyes, he saw his late daughter. His last hope. He knew he had to get Zego to safety. Zeos sprinted across the water with incredible speed to find land. After finding a new land, they rested. Zego was in shock and fainted, while Zeos, still thinking about the dragon, realized something. He didn't just have to save his son; he had to train Zego to one day stand against this horrifying power. Whatever the risk, they had to go to the Western Empire.