Before the age of gods and the forging of the first sword, there was only the raw, silent energy of the Creator, flowing like breath through the marrow of existence. From this primordial current, patterns formed—the first language of power.
They are called Sigils.
A sigil is not mere ink on stone or a carving on metal. It is the script that binds reality into shape, a pact between the wielder and the world. Each sigil carries an element, a memory, a truth. Fire to rage and renew. Water to heal and remember. Earth to endure and command. Air to free and quicken. From their union, new sigils emerge—lightning that splits the sky, ice that silences time, shadow that consumes, and light that reveals.
But a sigil is not chosen. It chooses.
This bond, the Sigil Pact, is a resonance between a person's soul and an elemental archetype. If there is no resonance, the sigil rejects the bearer, tearing flesh and spirit apart. While masters can pass down the knowledge of their pact, a true bond is forged only through miserable training and unbreakable dedication, where the worthy find a sigil awakening within them.
At the heart of every living thing lies the Core, the seat of this power. Few are born with one strong enough to be felt. Fewer still can shape it to carry more than a flicker of energy. A weak core collapses under the strain of a single sigil, shattering the body like glass. A strong core, however, becomes a channel for the elements—weaving sigils into strikes, defenses, or even living relics.
To possess a core is rare. To wield it is legend.
Not all who carry a core are bound by sigils. Some carve their power through the unyielding truth of steel. This is the path of the sword, and each of its four stages remakes the bearer.
-Swordbearer: The beginning. The sword is a tool of steel and wood. The wielder fights with strength, survives with training. Their bond is shallow; their energy, a whisper.
-Swordmaster: Precision. The blade becomes an extension of the body. A master reads an opponent's intent as easily as their movement, wasting nothing. Their core's resonance begins to bleed into the steel, cutting with more than just an edge.
-Knightblade: Conviction. Every strike is an oath forged into metal. To fight a Knightblade is to fight their very will. A sword swung with devotion cuts deeper than one swung with brute force.
-Aura Blade: The peak. The sword and the soul are one. The blade can cut more than flesh—it can wound auras, silence sound, and unravel memory. Those who reach this stage are not warriors; they are living legends, shaping reality with a single strike.
But the ancient texts, the ones hidden away in the deepest vaults, whisper of an uncharted path. They speak of a fifth pact, a sigil not of the elements, but of the very essence that gives them form: Blood. The ink of life, the price of death. It is the sigil that is never offered, only taken.
And they speak of a legend—or a curse—of one who walks all paths at once. A figure who has mastered every stage of the sword, yet is bound to none of them. A soul whose true power is a sealed book, locked away behind forgotten memories. It is said that for him, the world itself is a series of prisons, and with each realm he conquers, a new seal on his own soul breaks. With each truth he unearths, a forgotten, terrifying power awakens within him.
He is the exception. He is the one who wields the blood. And his story is the one that will unravel them all.
These are the foundations of power. Sigils, cores, blades, and the truths hidden in shadow.
Every pact carries risk. Every stage demands sacrifice.
But those who endure carve their names into eternity.
There is alot more to be unraveled, those elements will be introduced as we proceed with the story.