Year 1026 xx, 4th month of Leaxuire Calendar
In my hand, I clutched a newspaper. Tattered at the edges, ink faded in patches, dusty pages. In exchange for the coin that was stolen from me, someone had left this. Again.
It wasn't the first time.
This quiet trade, my meager earnings for this paper, had happened more times than I cared to count. And though I'd grown used to it, I never once bothered to read its content.
Maybe today, I will.
As the thought passed through my mind, my gaze drifted toward the brighter edge of the alley. The sunlight spilled over the rooftops, golden and warm, painting the distant shops in a deceptive hue of hope. Voices clashed in chaotic harmony—people arguing, bargaining, living. Towering screens hung above the cityscape, flickering with ever-changing colors.
"Rising Stars."
A commercial. One I'd seen too many times before.
Rising Stars—a ranking, an ad, a phenomenon. A celebration of those who'd clawed their way from the bottom to the peaks. A spectacle of strength, ambition, and, most of all, Resonance.
Though I was weak, I had ambitions once, too.
I used to imagine my name among theirs, glowing brightly on those very screens. But dreams like that aren't made for the unblessed. They belong to the gifted. To the powerful. The awareness of that difference tore at me from within.
I have no talent. No strength. Not even enough money to buy a proper meal.
If only I had even a fragment of power—Resonance—I might have carved out a domain of my own.
A domain.
Every awakened individual is granted one—an extension of their soul and spirit. Like a personal realm, unique in essence and ability. Within it: power, wealth, control. Some rise with brilliance, gifted by gods, funded by patrons, climbing quickly into the light.
The Rising Stars are the lucky ones. The chosen. They possess talent, funding, ambition—all the ingredients for ascendancy.
Whenever I stumble upon this paper, I always see the same thing: those in power. Men and women with vast domains, shaping the world around them. Luxury, treasures, authority—all of them are within their reach.
Crushing the weak. Dominating the unblessed.
I would be lying if I said I didn't feel envy. Often, I'd ponder quietly in this withering space—burning, quiet, envious.
Now I've finally decided to give this newspaper a chance… I might as well make full use of it.
Swoosh.
A sudden gust danced through the alley, the narrow paths whistling, whispering of the noises from somewhere near.
The paper fluttered, turning itself to a new dusty page. It was a sight hard to believe as a coincidence, but it landed somewhere, as if showing me something I needed to see.
"Mercenary Hiring"
Perhaps just a coincidence, for I never thought this would be the first thing I'd lay my eyes on. But it didn't matter.
What caught my eye was the rewards for participation. I'm tempted.
"Would I risk my life for such a job," I mumbled, voice ragged, "But these rewards… these requirements… these fit me all too well". After a minute or so of analyzing the details from the newspaper, I stumbled upon the specific page that was lifted by the winds.
Job Requirements
Age must be: 15-30
Status: Blessed/Unblessed (rewards will vary)
Time: Must be able to finish tasks promptly.
Body: Must be able to work physically (cleaning up, carrying baggage, etc.)
Quest: Domain war clean-up.
The job requirements are simple. Although the mentioned requirements are easy to fulfill, they come with hidden risks. But as these risks may be high, the rewards promised were nothing short of life-changing.
Compensation:
Minimum of 5 silver shards/day
Bonus: up to 1 gold shard upon successful completion
Additionally: essence fragments may be claimed based on performance.
Registration Site: Quest Guild—Oracious
Essences…
That word alone was enough to make my heart stir. Even someone like me, unblessed, powerless—knew the value of an Essence.
They weren't just currency. They were power itself. Divided into different classification and tiers, only those that awakened and are still thriving will be able to access such treasures.
Essences could be used to strengthen one's Domain, to evolve abilities, or—rumors say—to awaken dormant Resonance.
If there was even a sliver of truth to that... maybe I wasn't doomed to rot in this alley forever.
My hand trembled, not from fear—but from the first flicker of something dangerously close to hope.
"This job might kill me," I said as my body started to sweat, "but so could staying here."
I've already died a little each day just surviving.
A domain war clean-up—what did it really mean? A battle between people of different races? Domination for power? A battle of ambition? The words echoed like a riddle.
I'd heard whispers before… how awakened fought in otherworldly realms. That Domains weren't just sources of power, but battlefields, shaped by ambition and stained by defeat. And when two Domains clashed—when ambition met ambition—only one could stand. If the faction I'd stay with were defeated, so would we be. There is no mercy in this world. It only calls for power.
And someone had to clean up the aftermath.
No doubt it was dangerous.
This thought bothered me for a long time, the newspaper in my hand has folded, crumbled.
No doubt it was dirty work.
But for 5 silver shards a day—plus a shot at Essences?
That was more than I'd ever dreamed of.
More than I'd ever dared to reach for.
I folded the paper slowly, reverently.
This wasn't just a job listing. No.
It was a door. A passage. A way out.
A gamble worth every scar.
Maybe it was fate.
Or maybe I was finally desperate enough to stop waiting for fate to find me. My body, my mind, everything I own—all of me. This is a final gamble.
Either way...
Tomorrow, I will answer that call.
Tomorrow, I, Kreig Haven, will enter the world of Domains.