The battlefield had already fallen.

Smoke curled into the sky, thick and choking. The ground was cracked, scorched, and slick with blood. The wind carried screams of the fallen—echoes of a war that had not yet ended.

At the center of it all—Wenalin knelt.

Her head bowed slightly, strands of hair clinging to her sweat and blood. Crimson dripped from her wounds, pooling on the shattered earth beneath her knees.

She couldn’t stand.

Around her, an army stretched endlessly, a sea of armored soldiers circling her like vultures. Weapons glinted in the pale sunlight, yet none dared move closer.

Even on her knees—she radiated power.

Even wounded—she was still a goddess.

A slow, deliberate clap cut through the tense silence.

From the front line, a man stepped forward, his grin cold, his eyes glinting with greed.

Noah.

“Look at you,” he said, voice dripping with mockery. “The Goddess of All Elements… brought to her knees.”

He stopped a few steps away, savoring the sight.

“And yet… your power is still here.”

Wenalin didn’t flinch.

The air around her vibrated, thick with latent energy, heavy with the tension of something primal.

Noah grin widened.

“Not bad… for a goddess.”

He tilted his head, circling her slowly, his boots crunching over the debris.

“But… you’ve lost,” he said smoothly, eyes locked on hers. “There’s nothing left you can do now. You’re now weak. ”

Noah stopped in front of her. His grin twisted into a predator’s smile.

He raised his hand, dark energy gathering around it like a storm forming in his palm.

“I will take your power,” he said coldly, voice slicing through the wind. “I’ll be the one whose strength dominates all. With your power, no one will ever stop me… but don’t worry. I might let you die… peacefully.”

Silence.

The soldiers stiffened. The air trembled. Even the wind seemed to hesitate.

Then—Wenalin lifted her head.

Her eyes met his. Burning. Sharp. Unyielding.

“…You don’t deserve it,” she whispered.

The single word carried the weight of worlds.

Noah smile faltered.

“I… don’t deserve it?” He stepped closer, aura dark and menacing, hand outstretched. “You don’t have a choice. This power… will be mine.”

That’s when Wenalin moved.

“I won’t let that happen,” she said, voice low but deadly. Her hand rose into the air, trembling—but not from weakness. From focus. From determination.

The moment her fingers lifted, the world shifted.

Wind screamed.

The ground cracked further. Sparks of fire flickered into existence, flames dancing along the edges of broken stone. Water surged from the air, rippling in invisible currents. Earth trembled, rising subtly as if the planet itself obeyed her will.

Every element, every essence of creation, responded to her presence.

Gavo’s eyes widened.

“…What the hell is happening?!” he barked, a hint of unease creeping into his voice.

Wenalin closed her eyes. Every ounce of pain, every drop of blood, every fractured heartbeat—she drew it in. Every fragment of her divine power pooled into her small frame.

“I won’t…” she whispered. “…let you have my power.And use this for evil.”

Light erupted above her hand.

Not one sphere—many.

Eleven spheres of pure energy, each glowing a distinct, vivid color:

Red. Blue. Gold. Green. Silver… and more.

They hovered for a heartbeat, pulsating like hearts, alive with her will.

The soldiers gasped, stepping back.

"what is that?!”

“Her power—it’s splitting…!”

Noah face twisted with rage.

“No—stop that!” he shouted, lunging forward, black energy crackling from his hand—but the spheres were already gone.

Whoosh!

The eleven spheres shot into the sky like comets. Fast. Sharp. Unstoppable. Each darted in a different direction, vanishing beyond the horizon.

Gone.

The battlefield fell silent.

The oppressive tension that had weighed on the army disappeared, leaving only awe...

Noah froze, fists clenching, rage coiling like a living thing.

“…What the hell did you do…?” His voice dropped to a dangerous growl.

Wenalin’s hand fell slowly to her side. She remained kneeling, bloodied, weakened—but alive.

Noah roared, stepping forward, shadows flaring around him.

“Where are they?! Tell me! Where did you throw them?!”

Wenalin didn’t answer immediately.

Then, a smirk slowly curved her lips.

Cold. Confident. Unyielding.

“…I didn’t throw it away,” she said, voice quiet but firm.

“I chose… where it belongs.”

Her gaze locked on his. Fearless. Unshakable.

Noah became even angrier and used his power to attack Wenalin.

Because Wenalin was already weak, she was thrown away.

Noah:"I'm going to find it! "

The goddess he had thought defeated… had just rewritten the future.

...----------------...

The wind sliced across Ravinhold Kingdom, rattling banners and carrying the metallic scent of stone and iron.

High on the tallest tower, sunlight glinted off polished walls, but shadows were already crawling across the courtyards.

From the horizon, a small black sphere tore through the sky. Faster than an arrow. Faster than any beast. Its faint glow pulsed like a heartbeat—alive.

The guards froze mid-step, eyes wide.

“What… the hell is that?” one stammered, clutching his spear

The sphere didn’t slow. It shot straight into the main courtyard, landing with a brutal, explosive thud. The ground cracked under its impact.

Then… black shadows twisted and churned violently. The orb split open, and from it emerged a child.

Like a Three years old. Dark hair. Piercing eyes. A presence far older and far sharper than his size suggested.

He scanned the courtyard with unnerving precision, then fixed his gaze on the front of him.

King Dairon, about to stride into the throne hall, froze mid-step. Eyes sharper than any blade, colder than the deepest winter. He was completely unmoved by the commotion—but the child’s aura… it was unexpected.

“Guards,” he said smoothly, voice flat but lethal, “explain why the hell a child is standing on my grounds. Now.”

Courtiers stiffened, unease creeping into every corner. Guards instinctively stepped back. Dairon’s presence was like a blade cutting through the air—absolute command.

“We… we don’t know, Your Majesty,” a young guard stammered. “It… it just appeared… out of nowhere.”

The child didn’t flinch. He took a deliberate step forward, small but purposeful, eyes locked on the king.

“I… am Daimon.”

The voice was soft—but carried a terrifying certainty, like a man twice his age.

Dairon’s cold eyes narrowed. He leaned slightly forward, lips curling into a thin, dangerous smile.

“You… are what, exactly? Some brat spy?”

Daimon’s brow furrowed, his dark eyes steady.

“Don’t call me brat. I have a name. And I am not a spy. I… I am your son.”

The courtyard room went dead silent. Courtiers froze mid-breath. Guards’ hands twitched toward their swords, unsure whether to protect or run.

Dairon tilted his head, smirk sharpening.

“You’re joking. Some damn fool trick? Balls, huh… you gonna piss me off, little shit?” He rose slowly, voice low, slicing through the air. “Son? I’ve never touched a woman. Never wanted a child. You… are a liar. And I have zero patience for liars.”

Daimon straightened, fists clenched. Shadows flickered subtly at his feet.

“I’m not joking. My mother sent me here… because you… are my father.”

Dairon’s expression didn’t change. He circled the child like a predator, voice calm but dripping danger.

“You? My son?” he spat, voice steel-edged. “Pathetic. Delusional. You think throwing words at me makes it true? Don’t you f*ing understand? I don’t know you, I don’t care about you, and I’ll damn well make sure you vanish before you make me laugh again.”

all people at the courtyard gasped. Whispers spread like wildfire. Even the stone walls seemed to shiver.

The old aide—an ancient man with more years than sense—coughs nervously behind Dairon.

“Your Majesty… is… um… is this really a child? I mean, he—”

Dairon shot him a glare sharp enough to cut steel.

“Shut the hell up, Old Man. He’s either lying or stupid. One of those two, .”

The aide blinked rapidly. “Y-yes… .”

Daimon didn’t flinch. He crossed his arms, smirked faintly, holding the king’s gaze with fearless defiance.

“You are bold,” Dairon said finally, circling back to stand before him. “But balls alone don’t make you real. You’re not my son. You’re a damn liar crawling into my life. You think I’d… I’d let some brat like you… matter?”

 Shadows around him swirled like a dark halo.

“I don’t raise weaklings,” Dairon continued coldly, voice deadly. “And I don’t have time for cute little lies. Now… get the f*** out before I decide to kill you where you stand.”

Daimon tilted his chin slightly, shadows flaring, a dangerous calm radiating from his tiny form.

“I wouldn’t want it any other way,” he said quietly—but with unnerving certainty.

everyone in the courtyard froze. Courtiers exchanged horrified, wide-eyed glances. Guards shifted uneasily. Even aid muttered under his breath, “…this kid’s insane. And somehow… terrifying.”

Two ruthless presences stood opposite each other. The child didn’t flinch. The king’s cold eyes were lethal, unyielding—and yet… something in Daimon intrigued him.

Dairon start his Curiosity about the kid

...----------------...

Daimon’s small frame didn’t waver. Shadows clung to him like living things, curling and twisting around his tiny body.

“I’m telling the truth!” he insisted, voice calm but cutting like a blade. “You… are my father. My only father.”

Dairon’s cold eyes darkened. The calm patience he’d maintained snapped into sharp, lethal command.

“Enough. Guards,” Dairon barked, voice ice-cold. “Kill him. Now.”

At once, a 8 guards drew their swords, forming a tight circle around the child. Their faces were pale—but they obeyed instantly. Ravinhold soldiers did not question Dairon’s orders.

“Move in!” one shouted.

The moment they advanced, Daimon’s eyes glowed—dark and unyielding. His small fists clenched, and the shadows around him erupted into life.

Black energy poured from his body like smoke from a burning furnace. The aura twisted violently, forming a dense, pulsating black sphere around him. The air itself seemed to recoil from it.

The soldiers froze, gripping their weapons tighter.

“What… the hell is that?” one whispered.

Before anyone could react, the black sphere exploded outward in a wave of shadows and darkness.

It lashed at the surrounding guards with speed no human could follow. Black tendrils struck like whips, curling around swords and armor, ripping them from hands. Smoke and darkness coiled around every soldier, obscuring vision, choking air, and leaving a trail of scorched earth wherever it touched.

A blinding black streak shot out from the center, spinning and slicing the courtyard. A single soldier was sent flying backward with a scream that echoed across the stone walls.

Dairon’s eyes widened—just slightly. a flicker of shock crossed his expression.

He had never seen power like this contained in something so small.

Daimon’s tiny voice rang out, calm and commanding:

“Stay away from me… or you’ll regret it.”

The shadows responded instantly, growing sharper, faster, more violent. Smoke and black streaks danced around the child like living weapons.

Dairon’s jaw tightened. He stepped forward, but even he faltered slightly at the scene before him.Smirk

“impressive "

 His entire body radiated cold, dangerous power, the calmest calm before the storm but he also feel excitement.

“You… little shit,” he muttered under his breath, eyes narrowing. “You have a power hah?”

The guards, now fully pinned back by Daimon’s aura, struggled to regain footing. Black tendrils whipped past them with lethal precision, leaving scorched marks on the stone floor.

The courtyard had become a swirling nightmare of shadows and smoke. Even the old aide stumbled back, muttering frantically:

“By the gods… he’s… he’s a child! And he’s destroying the guards… oh, this is bad. This is real bad…”

Dairon straightened, his expression dark as the shadows around Daimon. He didn’t move forward—yet—but the tension in the air was suffocating.

This wasn’t a normal child . This… child was something else. Something dangerous. Something that shouldn’t exist.