The world is called Nirvalen.
A place that breathes wonder—and burns for it.
They say this world was forged by gods, then scarred by them. Cities float among clouds, stitched together by glowing runes. Mountains whisper songs of old wars. In the crystal valleys, you can hear the echoes of beasts that no longer exist.
And yet, the most terrifying thing here isn't magic. It's memory.
Not your memory—the world's.
Nirvalen runs on karma.
It does not forgive. It does not forget. It does not care whether you believe in it.
When you turn twenty, the world weighs your soul.
That moment is called the Awakening.
It's not a ceremony. It's a reckoning. Before witnesses, before Guilds, before whatever gods still bother watching, a person is judged by the deeds of their past lives.
They receive a True Name—a karmic title that reflects who they were, not who they think they are. Alongside it, the soul is gifted Authorities—powers, relics, or blessings earned in another life.
Some get one. Others, two or three. Four is the known limit. And even then, none are free.
The world also declares your Potential Rank.
That rank is not your current strength. It's your ceiling. How far you could go—if you don't die first.
Most awaken between Silver and Gold. Those who reach Platinum are considered elite.
But power alone doesn't rule Nirvalen.
Guilds do.
Ten Celestial Guilds sit at the top of the chain. They don't just operate across borders—they define them. Each guild controls regions, relics, and dungeons. Even governments listen when a Celestial Guild speaks.
There is no true king in Nirvalen. Only balance.
And even that can be broken.
Dungeons appear where the veil is thin—cracks between worlds, some say. Each one holds danger, relics, and karmic echoes. The stronger the dungeon, the heavier the echo.
There are five classes of dungeons:
E to B-rank – Training to regional-level threats
A-rank – Dangerous. Requires coordinated guild teams
S to SS-rank – Capable of destabilizing entire cities
World-Class – Rare. Locked. Require permits from the World Association
To enter is to gamble your life. To clear one is to gamble your future.
Relics from past lives hide deep within. Weapons that spoke to gods. Chains that sealed void beasts. Shields that defied worlds.
But Nirvalen doesn't hand out glory. It makes you fight for every breath.
The cities are beautiful—crystal-spired and mana-lit. The seas sing in the dark. Phoenixes nest atop frozen cliffs. But beneath the beauty lies danger that never sleeps.
In the floating city of Vareth, nobles war over awakening stones. In the desert zones of Ka'tal, mercenary guilds trade curses for gold. Even the undercities have cults whispering about forgotten karma and "the return of the throne."
And yet, amid all of this, life continues.
Children train before they speak. Families hire tutors from the moment a child walks. At ten, most know what a dungeon is. At fifteen, they're expected to understand Guild law.
And at twenty—they stand before the Circle.
The Awakening. The Judgment. The start of everything.
No one escapes it. No one fakes it.
Because Nirvalen is watching.
And Nirvalen never forgets.