Somewhere far from the Kingdom of Rosengard, beyond deserts and bloodstained borders, lay a land of green fields, winding rivers, deep lakes, and fertile soil.
There stood the Kingdom of Migonia.
Founded by Doshia Migonia, it was a nation ruled by soldiers who wielded Konkai. Through sheer force, Migonia had begun to seize the world's green regions one by one. The true nature of Doshia's Konkai power remained unknown, yet its results were undeniable.
Amid towering trees and endless grasslands lay a small village—one of the few places still untouched by Yajūni. Life there was peaceful. Children ran freely through the fields, elders shared tea beneath the shade, and quiet conversations filled the air. The villagers harbored no ambition, no malice. Their wishes were simple: to live, to endure, to remain at peace.
That peace shattered in an instant.
A thunderous sound echoed from beyond the village—wings beating against the sky, followed by a deafening roar. A massive shadow passed overhead.
Stone-colored scales. A colossal body. Veiny, yellow eyes burning with cruelty.
A dragon.
Children froze where they stood. Cups slipped from trembling hands.
Villagers: "Run! It's a Konkai user from the Kingdom of Migonia! Run for your lives!"
Migonia had been forcing the green lands to kneel. Societies fell effortlessly beneath their Konkai users, absorbed or destroyed without mercy. And now, this village had been chosen.
(Dragon roars)
The dragon descended with overwhelming force. Its talons crushed rooftops. Flames gathered in its maw and erupted in a torrent of fire. Its tail swept through homes and bodies alike. Screams filled the air.
The village's own Konkai users fought back—but they were slaughtered without resistance.
The dragon's voice echoed, deep and distorted.
"Kneel before Doshia Migonia, miserable ones."
Despair took hold. The strongest among the villagers had already fallen. The rest collapsed to their knees, staring blankly at the destruction around them.
Then—
Light pierced the chaos.
A man charged forward, sword in hand.
His long hair flowed down to his hips. Grass-green eyes burned with resolve. Tall and powerfully built, he moved with both strength and grace. He raised his blade and shouted, his voice sharp and unwavering:
Man: "Hantsuki Reikyō!"
A black semicircle tore through the sky.
It struck the dragon's neck in a single arc—cleanly severing head from body.
The corpse collapsed.
Silence followed.
Hope returned to the villagers' faces as the man landed among them, his steps heavy against the scorched ground. He surveyed the destruction, then raised his sword high.
Man: "I am your hope. I am the one who will free you from ignorance and despair. My name is Yōtsuki. The power I wield is called Reikyō."
The villagers erupted into applause.
Yōtsuki introduced himself as a wanderer—but one who would remain. The defeated Konkai user's body, now reverted to human form, was cast into the river. Fires were extinguished. Slowly, the village was rebuilt.
Yōtsuki looked upon the state of the village. He thought the villagers were ignorant about powers and in need of help. Then, an idea came to his mind.
Watching them, Yōtsuki reached a conclusion.
They were ignorant of power—and vulnerable because of it.
When reconstruction was complete, the villagers offered him a home. Yōtsuki prepared himself. Carrying his katana, he sought out the village leader and asked about the guardians. He promised to bring order—and enlightenment.
The man believed him.
Only three guardians remained.
Yōtsuki gathered them and sat upon a fallen log.
Yōtsuki: "Come, children. From this moment onward, you are my students. I will teach you everything about this power—without leaving a single doubt in your minds."
They exchanged glances, then sat.
Yōtsuki: "First, your names."
The one on the left spoke first—cheerful eyes, torn green haori, white hakama, and a worn katana at his side.
Student: "My name is Morizuki. I'm twenty-one. I protect this village, and I wish to learn your power."
The man in the center followed—red kimono, stern gaze, green eyes mirroring Yōtsuki's.
Student: "I don't trust you yet. But your power interests me. I'm Engetsu. Twenty-one."
The third spoke calmly—blue kimono, white haori, eyes as still as ice.
Student: "Hyōgetsu. Twenty-one."
Yōtsuki: "That's all?"
Hyōgetsu: "That's all."
Yōtsuki nodded.
Yōtsuki: "Then listen carefully. Reikyō exists in three forms.
He raised his hand.
Yōtsuki: "Hot Reikyō, Cold Reikyō, and Advanced Reikyō."
Energy flowed into his palm—violent, unstable, burning like oil atop water. He swung his arm, and the force surged forward like spreading fire.
Yōtsuki: "Hot Reikyō is born from pain—trauma, war, desperation. It awakens unconsciously and burns fiercely. Powerful… but unstable."
Engetsu frowned.
Engetsu: "So are you planning to traumatize us?"
Yōtsuki: "No. You will wield Cold Reikyō."
He lifted his hand again. This time, the energy was calm—black, fluid, flowing like still water. He released it, and it moved forward without turbulence.
Yōtsuki: "Cold Reikyō is trained. Balanced. Weaker—but reliable."
Morizuki's eyes shone.
Morizuki: "Amazing… then what's the last one?"
Yōtsuki's gaze sharpened.
Yōtsuki: "Advanced Reikyō. The fusion of fire and water. Absolute balance."
He clenched both fists. The image of flames and flowing water overlapped.
Yōtsuki: "Those who awaken it without sufficient will die. But those who master it… reach ultimate power."
Engetsu: "Can it be used through a sword?"
Yōtsuki: "Yes. But power drains quickly. Hot Reikyō dominates short battles. Cold Reikyō endures long ones. Victory depends on spirit and will."
The three listened intently.
Morizuki: "So I can reach ultimate power already?"
…Some listened more carefully than others.
Engetsu: "And your goal, Master Yōtsuki?"
Yōtsuki's voice softened.
Yōtsuki: "Once, I sought to protect my tribe. Three years ago… a Konkai user destroyed them all."
(Memories surface.)
A tribal settlement stood amid green meadows and flowers, a river winding gently through it…