In a world unlike any other, Absolute Chaos reigned supreme. Wars of unending nature ravaged the people of olden times, all fought for a singular reason—power. This world had been bestowed with a heavenly force, forged through the bondage of a human and a specter. A power they named Spirit Arts—a force like magic, capable of reshaping any aspect in reality that mankind could imagine. But with such power came an inevitable struggle for control. What followed was a true testament to survival, where only the fittest endured.
Absolute terror took the people's sanity before the fire reached their homes. All seemed lost until a man emerged from the depths of this seemingly endless hell, bonded with a spirit he called the Eternal Dragon... and yes, it was exactly what it sounds like. This man brought light to his people, forging a kingdom beneath the ashes of his vanquished foes, Minral. The peace that followed was monumental yet sadly fleeting. For even such a powerhouse, bound by the Eternal Dragon, mysteriously perished.
With no heir in sight, his statue was handed down to another—a lineage that would carry the legacy forward until the rise of the 10th descendant, Archon Levi III. In an era where Spirit-Tech had advanced to unprecedented heights and a proposal landed before this 11th King, suggesting a radical shift in tradition—something the Church vehemently opposed. It was the dawn of the Alternates, A new kind of spirit that the developers believed would grant the user more power than anyone had ever sought—let alone the traditional ones.
Noble King Archon, watching the war unfold at his borders, felt the weight of his own uncertainty. Could Minral ever receive a beacon of hope as powerful as the founder's divine spirit? This unorthodox suggestion seemed to promise just that—another great strength for his kingdom. Driven by the fear of failure, Archon agreed, sacrificing himself as the first subject of this untested power. But it didn't take long before things went awry. The young noble was corrupted, transforming into something darker, something unholy... a Demon. Archon descended into a relentless rampage, consuming the very souls of those he once protected, his power swelling with every life he claimed.
Archon's rampage left Minral in ruin and in that wake of the destruction, the Church unveiled a secret weapon of their own—a Crusader, bonded to a divine-class phantom, another being of unimaginable power just as before they recognized as the Holy Spirit... and yes, it was exactly what it sounds like. The tale goes on to suggest that the knight defeated Archon the Demon and peace was restored once more… For now at least.
Chapter One: The Sleeping Spell of Torma
Present day.
A classroom buzzed with faint whispers and the occasional yawn as Miss Arian, a youthful professor in her late teens, paced at the front. Her cherry-pink lips moved rapidly as she passionately explained the ancient origins of their homeland, the Kingdom of Minral.
Her beauty was hard to ignore: a curvy figure barely tamed by her tailored suit, warm brown eyes that could both soothe and scold, and a presence that demanded respect. But even she wasn't enough to keep one particular student's attention.
Her eyes narrowed.
There he was—Torma. Fast asleep at his desk.
Her brow twitched. Unbelievable.
With a sharp bang, she slammed her palms on his desk.
"Torma!"
The boy jolted upright like he'd been struck by lightning.
"Y-Yes, Miss Arian!"
Torma was a typical 16-year-old with jet-black hair and equally dark eyes. Average in every way—except, perhaps, in how often he found himself in trouble.
Arian folded her arms. "Were you sleeping in my class?"
"Yes... and I'm really sorry, Miss Arian."
She sighed, turning her gaze away.
"Just don't let it happen again."
Torma exhaled in relief as she moved on. He barely had time to settle back before a finger tapped his shoulder.
Lee, his back-row neighbor and so-called friend, leaned forward. Seventeen, tall and lean, Lee's sharp face was always partially hidden behind thin-rimmed glasses—a disguise for the perverted thoughts that often danced in his eyes.
"Torma," he whispered. "How do you do it?"
"Do what?" Torma asked, confused.
Before Lee could answer, a third voice joined in.
Anos—an 18-year-old with wild orange hair and a toned build—sat beside them with a grin. "Seriously, man. Tell us your secret."
"Secret to what?" Torma asked, now suspicious.
Lee scowled. "Don't play dumb."
"Yeah, not cool," Anos added, nodding.
"Come on, give me something," Torma pleaded.
Lee rolled his eyes. "Miss Arian. Obviously."
Torma blinked. "What about her?"
"You charmed her, didn't you?" Lee whispered, suspicion clear in his voice. "Tell me! What kind of charm did you use on my goddess!?"
Miss Arian, sensing trouble, turned toward them with a sweet yet deadly smile.
"What's going on back there?" she asked.
"Nothing, ma'am!" Anos chimed in quickly. "Just asking about the lesson."
She raised a brow, then turned back to the board. Anos sighed in relief. Lee was far from done.
"This is true love, Torma. Don't stand in its way."
Anos snorted. "Love? More like obsession."
"Blasphemy!" Lee shot back.
"Well," Anos said with a sly smirk, "I'd be lying if I said I didn't want her for myself."
"HOW DARE YOU?!"
"You guys were talking about Miss Arian this whole time?" Torma asked.
"Of course!" Lee exclaimed, his voice filled with exaggerated reverence. "She's the brightest star in the sky, the mistress of my soul, the goddess of my heart!"
Anos raised an eyebrow. "Too bad she's probably in her thirties."
"Take that back!" Lee yelled.
"You know I'm right."
Both boys looked deflated—until Torma casually added,
"She's actually nineteen."
"WHAT?!"
"Anos! Lee!" Miss Arian barked, spinning around with a menacing smile. "Is there something you'd like to share?"
They gulped. But before they could answer, Torma stood.
"I was asking them questions since I dozed off earlier, Miss Arian."
She paused... then sighed.
"Alright, Torma. Sit down. You're pardoned."
"Thanks, man," Lee whispered.
"No problem."
Anos leaned closer. "Wait—how do you know she's nineteen?"
"She told us last year when she joined."
"Oh... I completely forgot," Lee mumbled. Then, proudly: "Well, Torma, for that noble act, I officially invite you to my wedding—in six to seven years."
"What?!"
"Yep. It's all planned out. But first, tell me how you do it!"
"That's enough," Anos said, smacking Lee upside the head. "If he doesn't want to talk, don't force him. And besides... I've got a better shot at her than you."
"TRAITOR!"
As Lee prepared to tackle him, a chilling voice interrupted them.
"A better shot at what, exactly?"
They froze.
Miss Arian stood right beside them, her shadow darkening their desks, her grin deadly.
"M-Miss Arian!" Torma stammered.
"Don't worry, Torma. I just want a word with them."
"It was him!" Lee pointed to Anos.
Didn't matter. Both got the beating.
Bruised and breathless, Lee and Anos slumped in their seats like wilted plants.
Miss Arian clapped her hands.
"Now, as I was saying—our kingdom's history teaches us to look forward. Tomorrow marks your final day at Olympus Junior Academy. You'll be moving on to a Senior Academy of your choosing."
"Hey, Lee," Anos whispered. "What's with this whole Junior–Senior Academy thing?"
"Shut up or she'll kill us again!"
"I got it," Torma said.
"If you must know," Lee muttered dramatically, pushing up his glasses, "Junior Academies like Olympus teach basic life skills—and a bit of Spirit Arts for future knights. Senior Academies? That's where they forge you into warriors."
"So we're just weapons to them, huh?" Anos mused.
"Exactly," Lee whispered.
"That's... interesting," said a familiar voice right behind them.
It was Miss Arian again.
Lights out—round two.
"Anyway," she continued, "as our 'professor' in the back was explaining... Tomorrow is the Day of Initiation: Spirit Bondage. And therefore this is the moment You must decide whether you wish to walk the path of a knight, to bond with a spirit that will shape your future as well as the kingdom's... Or turn the other way and forget your were ever on this to begin with."
Just like that the bell rang, cutting through the heavy silence and school was out.
As the trio exited, Miss Arian called out.
"Torma!"
"Yes, ma'am?"
"You don't have to cover for those two," she said with an amused smile. "I wouldn't mind really crashing them."
Torma laughed. "I'll keep that in mind."
She paused, her cheeks faintly pink.
"How do you feel about tomorrow?"
Torma grinned. "I'm ready. No backing down now."
She smiled genuinely. "Good. Get some rest. It's going to be a long day."
"Thanks, Miss Arian!"
"It's just... Arian," she whispered, once he was gone.
Outside, Torma spotted Anos and Lee... talking to Aiz.
Aiz was 15—petite, silver-haired, with innocent blue eyes and a cheerful aura that could melt stone. She waved.
"Torma!"
He ran toward her—until a large wall of muscle blocked his path.
Han.
Towering and mean, with short blond hair and muscles stacked like bricks, Han shoved Torma aside. Beside him was his polar opposite—his rotund brother Wan, who looked like he had swallowed the cafeteria whole.
"Watch it, Tom," Han sneered.
"Yeah, Tom!" Wan echoed.
"Oh no..." Anos groaned. "Not these clowns again."
The trio rushed to Torma's side.
"Still showing your face around here?" Han growled. "I told you to leave."
"I can't," Torma muttered.
"And why's that?"
"Because he belongs here," Anos said, stepping between them.
"Anos!" Torma gasped.
"Hey Han," Anos added with a grin. "The zoo called—they want their baboon back."
"Still with the jokes, huh?" Han said. "I was just checking if our old friend is ready for tomorrow's Spirit Bondage Ritual, Tom."
"It's Torma," Torma corrected quietly.
Han smirked. "Oh, now you speak."
"Didn't he just tell you to back off?" Lee exclaimed, stepping boldly between the two giants. Han didn't even spare him a glance, his gaze solely locked on Anos, who stood unflinching, a shield in front of Torma. The tension was thick in the air—Anos was ready for a fight, and Han knew better than to test him. With a frustrated grunt, he decided it wasn't worth it and took a step back.
"Can't you take a little graduation prank?" Han sneered, a mocking glint in his eye. "Come on, guys, it's the end of an era." He flicked his eyes toward Wan, gesturing with a lazy flick of his wrist. "Party poopers, huh? Let's go, Wan."
As he turned, his voice dropped to a low, menacing growl. "I'll see you later, Thomas."
Han and Wan finally faded from view, their footsteps echoing down the corridor like fading thunder.
A heavy silence lingered.
"Jeez," Lee scoffed, turning back to Torma. "What's with that guy?"
"Are you alright, Torma?" Aiz asked softly, concern in her voice.
"Yeah, I'm alright," Torma replied, offering her a small smile to ease her worry though forced. "There's no need to worry."
"Yeah... and they never will be," Anos said, voice low but resolute then changed to a light tone and added, "Lee might never say it out loud, but we'll always be there for you, Torma."
"Yeah!" Lee chimed in proudly—then blinked. "Wait... what are you trying to say?"
Anos smirked, ignoring him.
"Come on!" he said, turning toward the exit at the end of the hall. "Let's get out of here. We've got bigger things to discuss."
He marched off with purpose, leading the group out the academy hall.
Lee scrambled to catch up, still stuck on the comment.
"But—Anos? Why wouldn't I say it?!" he called out.
No one answered. Only the wind and the creak of old school doors behind them.
The four headed to a familiar sweet spot of theirs—Bakika, a multi-dish café said to have once, long ago, hosted the kingdom's founder, Minral.A tale with no evidence, only whispers passed down through generations. Just a rumor. But like most things in Minral, even rumors carried weight.
Tonight, the squad had gathered for one reason only:
Where to now?
They ate. Talked a little. But when the plates were cleared, an awkward silence crept in. No one had the guts to break it... until—
"G-Guys..." Torma quivered.
But before he could continue, Lee rose with sudden fire, slammed his foot down on the table and shouted:
"I'm going to join the Guard!"
The silence that followed swept across the entire café. People paused mid-bite, mid-sentence, turning toward their booth.
Lee casually sat down like it hadn't just happened.
Anos, however, was stunned—then immediately burst into uncontrollable laughter.
"HAHAHA!You?!" he howled. "You might just another war than stop them! HAHAHA!" "Remember class?" he added between wheezes. "HAHAHA!"
"What happened in class?" Aiz asked, turning to Torma with wide eyes.
He gave a nervous chuckle, unsure how to explain.
"What happened in class was your fault and you know it!" Lee snapped.
"In the courts of law, I plead innocent," he said promptly, folding his arms as though he's the victor. "You're the guilty party."
That only triggered more hysterical laughter from Anos—until it all stopped.
Abruptly. Dead serious, he looked up.
"Truth be told..." he said. "We've reached the turning point. "The kind that makes you wonder— is this the end of it all… or the start of something greater?"
Then he turned. Locked eyes with Torma.
"So what's it gonna be?"
The others shifted their gaze. All eyes locked on him. It hit hard.
Torma's head lowered. His breath shallow.
"Me?" he whispered.
His resolve was clearly being tested. But he didn't falter.
He clenched his fists, stood tall, and shouted:
"I WANT TO JOIN THE GUARD AS WELL!"
The table fell quiet.
Then—nods. Mutual understanding.
"Well, it's settled then," Lee grinned. "We're joining the Guard."
"Wha—?" Torma gasped.
"You were never going alone, Torma," Aiz added, voice soft but sure.
"Bu—"
"No buts," Anos cut in.
"I was already destined for greatness," Lee said arrogantly, "So I'm willing to let you guys tag along," puffing his chest—"Ouch!" he winced as Anos smacked the back of his head to drag him out of his fantasy.
"And I'll go with you anywhere," Aiz added shyly, her voice a quiet confession woven into the chaos.
"Plus," Anos shrugged, "I can't leave you or my baby sister alone out there. So yeah—count me in as well." He leaned in, voice firm: "Being great is one thing. But when we're all together? That's a whole other story."
Torma wheezed with joy, trying to find the words.
"But guys—"
"No buts Torma?" Anos said with a grin. "We're here for you, dude. That's not changing. Not today. Not ever."
With that, the crew stepped out of the café, hearts aligned, spirits high—heading home for one last night of rest before the storm.
Tomorrow was the Day of Ascension.