The sun hovered high in the sky, casting warm golden rays that filtered through the thinning canopy of the Ivy Forest. Lucien emerged from the grove, his figure cloaked in the rugged, utilitarian leather gear of a seasoned hunter. His hood was drawn low, shadowing his features, though the faint shimmer of Astralis mana that lingered subtly in his presence made him feel far from ordinary. With the obsidian-black egg now safely stored in his spatial ring, he made his way toward the nearest city—Atlanta, a mid-sized trading outpost nestled at the base of the valley.
Unknown to him, two shadows followed his steps—silent, watchful, ever-present. Caelum's guards, handpicked elites, trained to be invisible until needed. Lucien had sensed their presence the moment he'd departed the estate. Their mana was expertly suppressed, but his sensitivity had evolved drastically since his Awakening. They didn't speak. They didn't need to. Their job was to ensure his safety. And if necessary, to eliminate threats before they ever got the chance to act.
The gravel road turned smoother as cobblestones marked the outer rim of Atlanta. The city's stone walls loomed overhead, covered in ivy and moss, giving the place an ancient, lived-in feel. Farmers, merchants, and travelers were queued outside the main gate, each being inspected by city guards who wore dull chainmail with green-plumed helms. One such guard—a burly man with a crooked nose and a girth that strained the buckles of his armor—stepped forward to intercept Lucien.
"Hey! Where the hell do you think you're going, kid?" the guard barked, spitting to the side. His eyes narrowed as he sized up Lucien. "You lost your momma in the woods or somethin'? This ain't no market for kids playin' dress up."
Lucien stopped, brows lifting just slightly under his hood. "I'm going inside," he replied coolly, voice even.
The guard scoffed, his belly shaking with a dry laugh. "Inside, he says. Listen, brat—this ain't some playground. That gear of yours? Fancy leather don't make you a hunter. And no badge, no entry. Now turn back before I kick your ass down the road."
Lucien's eyes remained calm, but his lips twitched. Not in amusement—irritation. The man's tone reminded him of the instructors who looked down on him during his earlier training, before he'd Awakened, before he was anything more than a powerless scion.
"I don't have time to argue," Lucien said, pulling aside his cloak slightly. "But if you insist…"
He reached into his storage ring—a fluid mental gesture—and retrieved a slim, metallic emblem. The sigil glimmered under the sunlight: a silver falcon emblazoned against a crest of starlight and blades. The official insignia of the House of Vaelor—his father's seal.
The guard's voice caught in his throat. His bravado evaporated like mist under sunlight.
"Wha… that's…"
Behind him, the second guard leaned over to peek. His face turned pale instantly.
"Y-you're—" the fat one began, but before he could finish, he staggered back a step, hand clutching at his throat.
Air. Gone. He couldn't breathe.
His pupils dilated in terror as a thick wave of bloodlust washed over him—crushing, suffocating, primal. It felt like a blade against his neck. His body screamed for him to run, to kneel, to submit.
It came from nowhere. And yet everywhere.
The hidden guard watching from the shadows had let a thin sliver of killing intent seep out—just enough to remind the gatekeeper that a predator was always nearby.
Lucien noticed the man trembling, drops of sweat rolling down his face, knees threatening to buckle.
With a slight twitch of his fingers—a practiced signal—the aura vanished like it had never existed.
The guard collapsed to his knees, gasping for air. His eyes flicked up to Lucien, now wide with horror.
"I–I didn't know… Please, forgive me, my lord…!"
Lucien gave a faint nod and walked past the gate without another word. The people nearby, too far to have heard the conversation but close enough to sense the sudden tension, made way for him instinctively.
Once inside, the streets buzzed with energy—vendors called out prices, horses trotted along cobbled lanes, and the aroma of grilled meat and spices wafted from nearby inns. But Lucien had a specific task.
He headed straight for the alchemical quarter—located near the city's center—where potion shops and scroll vendors lined the plaza. One particular store, "Verdant Vials," caught his eye. Its exterior was polished wood, clean and professional, with bundles of dried herbs hanging by the door.
A tinkling bell announced his entry.
An old man with thin spectacles looked up from behind the counter. "Ah, welcome, young hunter," he greeted. "What do you seek today?"
"Health and stamina potions. Ten of each."
The alchemist nodded and moved swiftly, selecting neat vials from behind the shelves. Each was sealed and labeled, color-coded by potency. Lucien inspected them—C-grade potions, nothing extravagant, but sufficient for his current needs.
"That'll be 100 Vals," the old man said.
Lucien handed over the crisp notes, each one stamped with the Dukedom's emblem. He still had 3,900 Vals left—a seemingly generous amount, but in the context of the empire's economy, especially for someone of noble birth, it was little more than pocket change. His father had provided him enough for essentials, but not indulgence. A lesson, perhaps.
He stored the vials in his ring and moved on to the food vendors nearby. Bread, smoked meats, dried fruits, hard cheese, and flasks of purified water—he chose items with a long shelf life and high caloric value.
As he loaded them into his storage ring, he took a moment to reflect on the item itself.
Storage rings were spatial artifacts—expensive, enchanted constructs that allowed a person to store items in an interdimensional space. The average storage ring could hold about 2 to 3 cubic meters. Enough for basic supplies, a few weapons, or hunting spoils. Useful, but limited.
Lucien's ring, however, was… different.
Crafted by one of Caelum's most trusted artisans, it boasted a space nearly ten times the standard capacity—almost 30 cubic meters. Not just that—it had temporal enchantment layered over its space. Time moved far slower within, preserving food and potions for weeks without decay.
Even legendary hunters would envy such a treasure. It was a subtle mark of the status he carried—one not seen, but felt.
After a few more minor purchases, Lucien made his way out of Atlanta. This time, the guards at the gate didn't dare speak a word. In fact, they saluted him. The fat one stood stiffly, eyes fixed to the ground, trying not to shiver.
Lucien smirked beneath his hood.
The forest greeted him again with the same cool hush it always had. Shafts of light filtered through the foliage, dancing on the moss-covered earth. His steps took him past familiar landmarks—the place where he'd discovered the obsidian egg, the towering white tree with silver-veined bark that shimmered with Astralis mana.
He paused there for a moment, placing a palm against its smooth bark.
The mana here still hummed, a resonant vibration that only he seemed attuned to. A place like this… it was no accident that the egg had been here. Perhaps this tree, too, had witnessed more than it let on.
But he couldn't linger. Not yet.
He turned sharply and began to explore the surrounding areas, weaving through bushes, climbing shallow ridges, circling the grove in wide arcs. His eyes were sharp, his senses tuned. The leaves rustled. The wind carried faint scents. Birds scattered as he approached unfamiliar terrain.
Eventually—after nearly an hour of sweeping the perimeter—he found it.
A large outcropping of blackened rock rose like a sleeping beast from the earth. Moss clung to its flanks, but at its center, between two jagged stones, was a gaping cave entrance. Circular, unnaturally smooth, as if something had bored through the rock with precision.
Lucien stood at the threshold, a cool breeze emerging from the dark depths beyond. The temperature dropped subtly, and his breath misted slightly in front of him.
A chill ran down his spine.
He didn't know why—but something told him this place had been waiting for him.
"Finally… I'm here," he whispered. "The dungeon where it all began."
He stepped forward slowly, eyes narrowing.
This wasn't just any cave.
No vines grew near its edge. No animals approached. The forest itself seemed to avoid this place, as though aware of something ancient slumbering within. As he focused his mana senses inward, he felt it—a pull, subtle but distinct. The same energy that had pulsed from the white tree. The same feeling he'd felt when holding the obsidian egg.
A dungeon—yes.
But not a random one.
One tied to the Astralis current within him. One that likely predated the human calendar. One that might hold truths even his father didn't know.
He crouched low, running his fingers along the stone. There were faint carvings—weathered symbols etched deep into the rock. He couldn't read them, not yet, but something primal stirred in his blood just looking at them.
His journey had started with a dream… a cry of the cosmos, a glimpse of stars in his soul space, and a woman who whispered riddles cloaked in light.
And now?
Now it had led him to the mouth of the unknown.
Lucien reached into his ring and withdrew a small flare crystal—one of the enchanted items used for dungeon exploration. He tossed it into the mouth of the cave. It rolled down a slope and emitted a low thrum of blue light, illuminating jagged walls, strange moss, and what looked like… runic stonework deeper in.
The interior was not natural.
It had been built.
Carved by something with purpose.
Lucien rose, his fingers brushing the hilt of his sword.
He turned his gaze skyward, toward the sliver of sunlight above the tree line.
"Whatever lies within," he murmured, "I'll find it. No matter what."
And with that, Lucien stepped into the darkness, where fate, power , and answer lies.
A/N:So for tomorrow I am happy to announce that I will be posting four chs,rejoice!!!!