Chapter 1: The Forgotten Heart of Drunai
Deep within the firmament, beyond the stars, exists an ancient world whose name, Drunai, only whispers in the memory of its own.
A colossal planet, divided into two perfect halves: untamed land and deep waters. Its sole continent, Thalwen, was a gigantic mass where life flourished in its wildest and purest state. Although the sea covered half the orb, few dared to traverse its abysses. In its depths, horrors as ancient as the world itself lurked, beasts that devoured ships and consumed even maná itself.
But Drunai was not just danger. It was a dazzling beauty. Maná was not merely energy; it was the planet's soul. Like oxygen to lungs, it enveloped every creature. Plants purified toxins, exhaling them as magical essence. Beasts devoured and were devoured, and from their remains new life emerged. A perfect balance. A self-sustaining cycle of maná and existence.
But then… it happened.
Countless millions of years ago, an eternal day marked the beginning of chaos. Thousands of interdimensional portals tore through Drunai's sky like wounds. From them emerged the demonic beasts: soulless, emotionless creatures, driven only by three desires: to devour, to destroy… and to multiply.
The only conscious inhabitants of Drunai at that time were the Ancestral Spirits, an ethereal and peaceful race, born from the earth, who lived in communion with the planet. They knew no conflict.
Until that day.
Compelled by despair, the spirits took up the first weapons. They forged armor, tempered magic, and learned to fight. And with war, a dormant truth awakened: evolution.
Every demonic beast that fell released its corrupted maná, which was absorbed by the spirits, strengthening them. Their essence transformed, they mutated, they grew. Thus emerged the first spiritual monsters, powerful and protective, defenders of Thalwen.
The war lasted eons. In the end, the invaders were expelled.
The spirits rose like titans. Ten of them achieved divine power. They were known thereafter as the Ten Spiritual Gods.
With a simple gesture, they restored Thalwen. But what once was, no longer existed. The original creatures had become extinct. To preserve the cycle of life, they allowed the demonic beasts—now controlled—to take their place as natural predators. They were dangerous, but necessary.
Even so, it was not enough.
Nine of the gods departed for the stars, in search of new species to repopulate Drunai. Only one remained: the guardian of the planet.
But what they found out there… was horror.
Decades later, the nine returned, shattered. With their last strength, they uttered only one phrase to their sister:
"Protect our world."
Then, the nine gods offered their lives. They fused their souls to create an impenetrable magical shield around Drunai. So dense that not even the celestial abomination that pursued them—an entity the size of the world—could penetrate it.
Thus, only she remained.
The last guardian.
The protector.
The mother.
For centuries, she maintained balance. She watched over the demonic beasts, contained outbreaks of chaos, and guided her spiritual race, who now revered her.
Peace reigned for millennia.
Until they arrived.
New portals opened. But this time they were not mindless beasts. They were two humanoid races. One came from fire and conquest: the Humans. The other, from darkness and ambition: the Demons.
Both saw Drunai as a field of infinite resources. What was sacred to the spirits, for them was merely power to exploit.
Each side brought its champions: five demigods per faction. Ten formidable beings, capable of laying waste to entire regions. But upon seeing the spirits' power… the two enemy races did something unthinkable: an alliance.
For the first time, humans and demons fought together. Their goal was one: to destroy the spiritual race and claim the planet for themselves.
The guardian was more powerful than all of them. Only two enemies managed to wound her. But she could not fight with all her might; she had to protect her own. So, she took the last spirits and fled, leading them to a sacred peninsula at the continent's edge.
There, with her remaining power, she created a sealed forest. She filled it with thousands of demonic beasts. Creatures that once fought the spirits now received part of the guardian's divine power to protect them.
The forest became a living wall.
And the world… fell.
The demons and humans remained on Drunai. Unable to leave, with the portals sealed by two spiritual heroes who gave their lives, trapping the invaders. It was their last act of defense. Their last hope.
But the danger had not ended.
Both races knew there was only one way to escape: to achieve the power of a god and break the shield protecting the world.
And so, a new era began. An era of conquest, of plunder, of endless war.
The spiritual race, once the wise rulers of Drunai, were reduced to a hidden people. Lost in the shadows of the world that was once theirs. Meanwhile, the guardian entered a deep slumber, wounded, weakened… awaiting the day she could awaken.
The day she reclaims the lands that belong to her people.
…
A woman with sky-blue hair, a maternal and serene smile, held an enormous book in her hands. She read aloud, and her eyes, the same deep blue as the sea, conveyed immense calm. She was beautiful, ethereal. Her dress, the color of the clear sky, seemed custom-made for her.
Sitting on her lap, nestled, was a small girl. Also beautiful, with the same blue hair, though lighter, almost silver. On her forehead, two small red horns, like rubies, protruded. Her scarlet eyes shone with intensity, and adorable little fangs showed when she spoke.
"What happened next, Mommy?" the girl asked with genuine eagerness.
"It ends there," the woman replied with a warm, soft smile.
"So the spirits didn't get revenge on the wicked ones?" the girl retorted, frowning slightly, a spark in her crimson eyes.
"Unfortunately, no," the woman said tenderly, stroking her daughter's hair. "After all, we still live here… don't we?"
The woman looked to one side. They were sitting on an immense stone wall that surrounded the entire village, a millenary bastion. The village nestled on a protected peninsula, where the sea served as a border on one side, and on the other, a dark, dense forest stood as a living, impenetrable barrier.
One could say they were enclosed, safeguarded by the guardian's power. There was only a narrow dirt path, a scar between the forest and the cliff, connecting the peninsula to the vast continent. But that path was infested with deadly beasts, many capable of devouring an army alone.
Even so, the village was self-sufficient. They lived off the abundant fish from the sea and collected what they could from the less hostile edges of the forest. Over time, they had learned to live with the confinement.
"That's too bad," the little one murmured, the sparkle in her eyes dimmed by sadness.
"Let's go home, my little star," the woman said sweetly, lowering the girl from her lap before they walked together down the stone steps that led to the village.
"Madam, are you out for a stroll again?" asked a robust man, with scaly skin and a thick lizard tail swaying, as he saw them pass.
"Yes, I took Lua out for a walk. She was a little restless," the woman replied kindly.
"Is that so? Little Lua, you must be good to your mother. She has a lot of work as head of the village," the man said with an affable smile.
"Mm… I know," Lua replied, lowering her head with some guilt.
"It's alright. I enjoy spending time with my little one," the mother said, tenderly caressing her daughter's head.
"Here, little Lua, it's a gift for you," the man said, offering her a golden, shimmering fruit.
"Thank you, Uncle Lars! It's my favorite!" Lua exclaimed with overflowing joy, her scarlet eyes lighting up, before taking a big bite without hesitation.
"Hahaha, that's good," Lars responded, bidding them farewell with respect, his lizard tail still swaying as he walked away.
Many inhabitants greeted them with affection and familiarity as they passed. And if one observed carefully, they would notice that none of them were entirely human. Some had twisted horns, others strange feet, membranous wings, or iridescent scales; and there were even living skeletons walking alongside bone children, a community of unique beings, a refuge for the different.
...
But it was a memory of the past. A distant echo of a life that no longer existed.
A woman of impossible beauty opened her eyes.
Her pupils, an intense crimson red, glowed with a spectral light in the gloom, like incandescent embers. She rose without making the slightest sound, each movement a symphony of silence. She walked through the ruins of what was once a house, now only a stone skeleton, with slow, bare, solemn steps.
She was young, with deep blue hair that fell like a midnight spring, each strand reflecting an abyssal melancholy. She walked like an ethereal apparition, majestic and unattainable. Her pale skin, almost translucent, starkly contrasted with the intensity of her eyes, cold and almost empty of emotion, which gave her a supernatural air. Two red horns, polished like blood-stained obsidian, protruded from her forehead, and her ears, sharper than any human's, revealed her origin.
She was an Oni. And, perhaps, the last of her kind.
She walked barefoot through what was once a vibrant village, full of life and laughter. Now, the stone walls, cracked by ancient attacks, and the houses scorched by fire, told a silent story of tragedy and extinction. But she did not avert her gaze, did not falter. She walked that desolate path as if she had traversed it a thousand times in her dreams, or, more probably, in her recurring nightmares.
She stopped in front of the largest house in the village, also in ruins, a shadow of its former glory. She crossed its broken threshold as if the place still had an owner. She moved among debris and rubble until she reached a back corner, where the walls, though cracked, still stood.
She moved her foot with an almost reverent delicacy, as if writing on the dirt floor with invisible ink. Ancient runes began to glow with a faint light in response, marking themselves on the ground like living scars. A small portal opened, revealing a crude staircase that descended into the dark depths of the earth.
The underground room was narrow, barely illuminated by the flickering blue flame of a magical torch. In the center, suspended like an impossible dream, lay a crystal coffin. Inside it slept a woman of extraordinary beauty, with blue hair like the deep sea and features so similar to the young woman's that anyone would say they were mother and daughter.
The young woman approached unhurriedly and stood by the coffin, her figure erect and solitary. Her expressionless gaze broke for just a second. Only one. But it was enough to reveal the abyss of pain and determination she concealed.
"Hello, Mother…" she finally said, her voice so cold, so devoid of emotion, that the air seemed to tremble. "I still haven't found it. Don't worry. I will do everything in my power to wake you. I will keep searching in the forest, even if my life is consumed in the attempt."
Two hundred years ago, the humans found the spiritual monsters' hiding place. Or, rather, they already knew it… and were just waiting for the opportune moment. That moment came when the Demonic Empire launched a brutal attack on the Beast Forest. The humans used the distraction to surround the forest, reach the spiritual village… and raze it without warning. The extermination was total. Precise. Implacable.
Her mother hid her in that underground room, concealing her from the holocaust.
Lua survived.
But for unknown reasons, after the massacre, her mother fell into a deep coma from which she never woke. It was as if the very soul of the world had extinguished.
She understood that as the chief of the spiritual village, she was connected to each resident, and when all died, she fell into a deep sleep.
Since then, Lua has relentlessly sought the mythical Flower of Life, a legendary flower that, according to the oldest legends, can heal any wound… even those residing in the soul, even death itself.
To increase her chances, to not lose a single moment, Lua learned a forbidden technique: to split her body into two, maintaining a single consciousness. At first, it was unstable, a torment. But after two centuries of tireless practice, both halves were perfect extensions of herself, two bodies functioning as one. One, an unbreakable vigil in the ruins… and the other, a tireless huntress, exploring every corner of the vast and dangerous forest.
She hasn't slept in 200 years. And by keeping one copy active, working without rest, it was as if 400 years had passed without repose.
Even when she closed her eyes, the images of her massacred people, of the flames consuming her home, of the silenced screams, returned to her, again and again, with torturous clarity.
Lua emerged to the surface just as her other half, returning from the forest, arrived at the ruined village. They needed no words. A single glance sufficed. They understood instantly:
She didn't find it.
For the first time in a long while, both halves of Lua merged into one.
Lua slowly sank to the ground, saying nothing. The accumulated exhaustion of two centuries, the sadness that oppressed her spirit, and the incessant memories weighed upon her like a mountain.
"I'm tired…" she murmured, her voice barely a whisper, looking at the gray sky with dull eyes. "Maybe… I should just sleep a little. Just that. I need… to rest."
She curled up against a demolished wall, seeking refuge within herself, burying her face between her legs and arms.
And, after two hundred years of perpetual vigil, she closed her eyes.
At last.
—
Meanwhile, on the other side of the continent—more precisely, in one of the Human Empire's kingdoms—a young man, who wasn't truly that young, was known as one of humanity's five demigods.
He was hailed as a hero, a symbol of hope. A "genius" who achieved the impossible: reaching divinity in only one hundred thousand years. To him, that was little. To others, he was a monster of talent. Many believed he would be the first to break the world's veil and conquer others in the name of the human race.
And he believed it more than anyone.
"What trash!" he shouted in anger as he punched a nearby tree. The trunk instantly turned to dust, scattering leaves and splinters everywhere.
"So that was it, huh? You wanted power to escape? Or perhaps to take control of my body?" he spat with contempt, looking at a floating screen in front of him.
Only he could see it.
[You are mistaken, Host. The System merely offered you the most viable option for your current situation: bodily modification and access to the special species Lineage Protocol.]
"Hmph. Do you think I'm an idiot? I knew from the start this wasn't free. That's why I never gave you all the permissions you asked for. Connecting with other worlds, modifying my body… nonsense! All you want is to use me as a husk and bring your own to steal what belongs to me."
His voice was arrogant, mocking, inflated with a certainty born of ignorance.
[Negative. The System was designed exclusively to assist civilizations in danger of extinction. 105,000 years ago, humanity was on the verge of annihilation against the demonic invasion. The System activated to protect, evolve, and save the host species.] [Our sole directive is to preserve the life of the host species. Everything else is secondary.]
But the young man no longer listened. He crossed his arms and scoffed impatiently.
"Shut up! I'm not interested in your story. I'm already a demigod. If I got this far, I can do everything without you. I don't need you anymore," he said with a smug smile.
Then he began to concentrate maná in his body. The divine aura surrounding him vibrated intensely, creating a distortion in space.
The System, seeing what was coming, tried to stop him.
[ALERT: Forced entry into System Core.] [ALERT: Critical interference. Possible host soul fragmentation.] [It is recommended to C-E-A-S-E immediately.] [Imminent danger. This act could destroy interstellar connections and eliminate evolutionary support for the human species.] [Last warning.] [Forced unlinking initiated.] [Farewell, Host.]
"I did it!" the young man exclaimed, panting as a proud smile spread across his face.
Then the pain came.
A ripping scream tore from his throat as he fell to his knees. His soul, partially fused with the System for thousands of years, was being forcibly torn away. The pain was unbearable.
Worse still, his power began to collapse.
His divinity fragmented. His aura extinguished. His body stopped channeling maná correctly. His power level plummeted, stopping just above the demigod threshold. A rank so impossible to reach that if he had fallen any lower… he would have preferred death to continuing to live as "one of the common folk."
"It's fine… I can recover," he said with a trembling voice, feigning calmness. "There are still resources in this world. I just have to send a couple of soldiers to the Beast Forest… yes, just that. I'll recover in no time."
He convinced himself that it had all been a victory.
But he had made the worst mistake of his life.
...
And while he lamented, on the other side of the world, a small light floated over a forgotten forest. A fragment of the system, now free, traversed the world's maná in search of a new signal.
A needy race.
A receptive mind.
A heart willing to share.
The System was designed to help. And it would… even if it meant giving its life for it.