Three thousand years ago, an unprecedented war broke out across every corner of the globe. Angels, demons, fairies, elves, beastmen, and humans were plunged into a bloody conflict to determine who was worthy of standing at the summit of the world. This war, later known as the Holy War, claimed an incalculable number of victims: men, women, children—no one was spared from this endless carnage.
But just as it seemed that this war would never end, space itself fractured and the sky split in two. From this rift emerged a being of unimaginable power, a power capable of reshaping the very laws of reality. Even the Monarchs—the most powerful beings of their respective races, tasked with commanding and leading their clans—could do nothing against him. His mere presence disrupted the balance of the world as it had existed until then.
On top of that, he possessed an artifact of immeasurable power: the Ava Corrector. This artifact was so powerful that it could grant its wielder the powers of a god, capable of controlling the existence of all things in this world. The first use of this weapon caused cataclysmic devastation across the planet, surpassing all understanding of the Monarchs. Aware of the imminent danger, they decided to halt the war in order to satisfy him. But that was not enough for him.
The one who came to be known as the First Hero of the world decided to impose upon them an inviolable pact. No one truly knows what the exact conditions of this pact were, nor what it truly entailed. However, following this peace agreement, the Monarch of the past disappeared without a trace, perhaps as a result of the conditions imposed by the First Hero. A few years later, as peace partially returned to the world, the First Hero also vanished as mysteriously as he had appeared, leaving behind only one thing: the Ava Corrector.
To protect this artifact, an order was created to preserve the weapon's secret location. The twenty generals succeeded one another over the years, until the existence of this ancient army gradually faded from memory, leaving only a handful of people who still knew of its existence.
Many years later, in the mountains of the Eastern Empire, lush vegetation surrounded a vast manor perched atop a mountain. Birds sang, and a gentle breeze rustled the leaves of the trees. Inside the manor, the cold silence of empty corridors could be felt, disturbed only by the birdsong and the steady murmur of the fountain.
At the center of a garden stood a white pavilion, its curtains fluttering in the wind. Inside, a fourteen-year-old boy with red hair was calmly reading a book. Light reflected off his transparent glasses, and he seemed completely absorbed in his reading, not even noticing the sound of approaching footsteps.
A woman with brown hair gently placed her hand on the boy's book with a familiar smile.
— Young Master Eric… Young Master Oliver has arrived.
The boy raised his head toward her, his red eyes invisible behind his glasses, which he adjusted to see more clearly.
— Oliver… Ah yes, I forgot he was supposed to come pick me up," he replied with a slightly embarrassed smile.
This did not bother Elena at all, but nonetheless, a question crossed the boy's mind.
— Wait… is he… ?
The young woman hesitated for a moment, her expression turning worried and concerned.
— He went to see Young Master Noa. And knowing him, he's probably going to cause trouble again, that's for sure.
Eric Hyperion slowly straightened up, closing his book.
— Alright… and Father, where is he now?"
Elena thought for a moment, pensive.
— I think he went to get ready… but knowing Oliver, he could very well be sleeping somewhere in the manor, so…
Eric sighed, bringing his hand to his face.
— Well… I just hope Oliver doesn't make a whole scene again when he sees Noa.
Meanwhile, inside the greenhouse, the silence and tension were almost palpable. Two figures faced each other, each on their own side, swords raised, ready to strike.
Simon, a young man with blond hair and green eyes, was completely focused. He gripped his sword with strength and determination, his gaze locked onto his opponent.
On the other side, a boy with black hair and blue eyes stared back at him with the same intensity. His expression was as cold as ice, and he held his weapon with perfect mastery.
Without warning, Simon launched himself forward in a swift and precise movement. The young boy reacted simultaneously, at lightning speed. The impact rang out as a sword scraped along the ground and plunged into the wall, creating a massive crack. Silence instantly fell.
Young Master Noa Hyperion, calm and motionless, observed Simon, who knelt down, out of breath, with an impassive expression, not at all surprised by the outcome.
— You've improved again, Young Master, Simon murmured with a smile as he wiped the sweat from his forehead.
Noa paid no attention to the compliment and looked away.
— Don't exaggerate… Your style is just too predictable. After training with you for so long, I ended up adapting to everything.
Simon gently tapped the protagonist on the head with a broad smile.
— Stop being so modest! You have the right to enjoy your victory, you know.
— It's not modesty, I'm just saying what's on my mind,
Noa replied calmly.
Simon then turned toward another boy sitting nearby.
— And you, what do you think, Ethan?
Ethan, a young man with black hair, sitting cross-legged with a somewhat vacant look, scratched his head.
— Ethan thinks that Young Master should have a bit more confidence in himself.
— Ha, you see… even Ethan agrees," Noa said with a light sigh.
Suddenly, a familiar voice broke the moment.
— Well then… do you really think he lacks confidence?"
Behind them, a yellow flash shot straight toward Noa, who instantly coated his hand in a blue aura and dispelled the attack with a simple motion.
— It's been a while… Oliver.
Stepping out of the shadows, another heir of the Hyperion family appeared. His tan skin, black hair with red streaks, and yellow eyes were revealed in the light. He scratched his head and smiled.
— Nice to see you again… cousin.