Old Wang's antique shop was filled with relics and artifacts from the previous era—each with its own story and mysterious power. He was one of the High King Fremonth's trusted friends, a retired legendary master who once roamed the myriad realms. His wisdom and stories were treasured by those who knew him.
High King Fremonth stayed until dusk, enjoying the warm company and the exchange of tales. He liked talking with Old Wang because it reminded him of his own adventures and the thrill of discovery.
"Old Wang," the king said with a gentle smile, "I think I'll leave now so I can still walk around the city a bit."
"Very well," the old man replied, standing up. "The city is lively at night too. Be careful, Your Highness."
Fremonth nodded politely and stepped outside. Old Wang cupped his fist in a traditional gesture. "Visit me again soon. Next time, tell me about your adventures."
"Definitely. I will," Fremonth answered with a smile before heading into the bustling streets.
He paused to watch the city's lively night scene, with singing, dancing, street magicians performing tricks, and children watching with wide eyes. The stores and restaurants remained open, filling the air with energy and joy. Fremonth felt inspired—he wanted to bring this same lively atmosphere to his own kingdom someday.
Suddenly, a commotion broke out nearby. Shouts of anger and desperation echoed through the crowd:
"Stop! You can't escape us!"
"Stop or we will really kill you!"
"You there! Stop that bastard!"
People froze, children ran to their parents, and performers looked worried. Fremonth's expression hardened as he turned toward the disturbance. He saw five men chasing a young boy, their weapons glinting ominously.
The boy, running for his life, suddenly noticed a young man standing still in the chaos. Their eyes met, and the boy made a quick decision. Despite not knowing who the young man was, he saw a flicker of anger and strength in his gaze.
'A clever brat,' Fremonth thought, smiling faintly.
The boy, gathering his remaining strength, hurried toward the young man and whispered, "Hey, you can help me, right?" before hiding behind him, trembling.
The crowd gasped as they saw the young man remain unmoving. Some wanted to help but hesitated, afraid of the armed men.
"Give us that boy!" one of the men shouted, raising his weapon.
"Don't try to play hero," another sneered. "We will kill him—"
Before they could finish, a powerful gust of wind suddenly swept through the street, causing dust and debris to swirl. The five men and the crowd looked on in shock as the young man raised his hand, and a strong wind erupted, striking the assailants.
'An expert!' some thought. 'Is he a mage?!'
The leader of the five, a burly man with a huge build, looked stunned. "Great master, we wanted only the boy. He's our slave and he wanted to escape," he explained hurriedly.
"I'm not your slave!" the boy shouted angrily, voice trembling with emotion.
The men hesitated, about to speak, but their leader waved them back.
The young man glared at them, voice calm but firm. "Leave. This kid is not going anywhere."
The leader, angry, retorted, "Don't think you're invincible. You're stepping out of line."
"This is none of your concern," Fremonth said with a slight smile, "but you need to leave now."
One of the men, furious, lunged at Fremonth with a ferocious strike using his massive blade. The crowd gasped again, sensing danger.
But before the blade could reach him, Fremonth's power activated. The blade froze mid-air, caught by a shimmering force field. The crowd gasped in awe.
"Force field!" one of the men shouted, alarmed.
Fremonth's smile widened. "It's more than just a force field," he said calmly, as the energy shape shifted into a gigantic spear of golden light, piercing through the leader's companion, who collapsed with a splatter of blood.
The injured man stared in horror as the spear, made of radiant energy, pierced his stomach. Fremonth looked at the leader with stern eyes.
"You should listen," the king said softly. "Leave now, or be prepared for worse."
The leader, upset but realizing the danger, hurriedly called his men to help their wounded comrade and retreated.
"Somebody call the city guards," Fremonth said quietly, then gently grabbed the boy's hand. Using a minor teleportation magic, he vanished from the scene.
They appeared on the outskirts of the city, where only trees and darkness surrounded them.
The boy, eyes wide with amazement, exclaimed, "Whoa! That's teleportation! We actually teleport!"
Fremonth studied the boy carefully as he caught his breath.
The boy looked back at the city, awe evident on his face. "Hey, mister…"
Fremonth's eyes narrowed. "You're a half-phoenix, with a divine-grade bloodline. Who are you?"
The boy looked down, nervous. "I don't know. They imprisoned me, hurt me… I escaped when I saw my chance."
Fremonth's expression softened slightly. He asked, "What's your name?"
"Lynus," the boy replied quietly.
Fremonth studied him again. "Do you remember where you live or where you came from?"
Lynus shook his head gloomily. "No. Sorry, mister."
Fremonth sighed inwardly. "Oh heavens," he said softly, smiling. Then, after a moment of contemplation, he said, "I'll be traveling to the capital of the Divine Rock Kingdom for the White Phoenix Festival soon. Would you like to come with me?"
Lynus's eyes lit up. "Really? You'd take me?"
Fremonth nodded. "Yes. I'll teach you magic, how to fight, and how to survive in this world. You're special—divine blood runs in you. But you need to learn how to control it."
The boy grinned. "Thank you! From now on, you're my master!"
Fremonth laughed, placing a hand on Lynus's shoulder. "Fremonth, ninth High King of the Golden Sky Palace. Remember that."
Lynus beamed. "Master Fremonth! I think you're the most powerful man in the world!"
The king chuckled heartily. "Hahaha! Of course I am! Mighty, great, and unstoppable! Oh, Awesome too!"
He paused, coughing softly, realizing he might have gone a bit overboard. He looked up at the starry sky and smiled.
"Let's go," Fremonth said. "Our journey begins now."
"Yes, Master Fremonth!" The kid answered cheerfully.
And so, the legend of Fremonth and Lynus—the master and the divine child—began. The story that would echo across the myriad realms, inspiring generations of bards and kings alike.