The Human Skywalker Empire stretched far across the eastern lands. It was one of four great human nations. Each empire carried the weight of centuries on its shoulders. Magic flowed through this world like invisible rivers. Every living being could feel mana in the air.
Different races called this continent home. Elves lived in their ancient forests. They possessed natural wisdom and powerful nature magic. Dwarves hammered away in their mountain kingdoms. Their skill with enchantments and metalwork was unmatched. Beastkin tribes roamed the plains. They combined human intelligence with animal instincts. Countless other peoples shared this vast land.
All these races lived together, but it wasn't always peaceful. They formed alliances when convenient. They fought wars when necessary. Everyone wanted more territory. Everyone needed more resources. But they all knew one truth. Greater threats lurked beyond their borders.
To the north lay the Dark Beast Forest. Millions of demon beasts made their home there. The forest stretched further than anyone could travel. Massive trees blocked out the sun. Strange sounds echoed through the darkness. These creatures ranged from tiny imps to colossal drakes. Some had wings like ancient dragons. Others crawled on dozens of legs.
The beasts maintained an uneasy truce with humans. "Stay out of our forest," they seemed to say. "We'll stay out of your cities." This worked well most of the time. The creatures remained peaceful as long as humans respected their territory.
But sometimes, things went wrong. Reckless adventurers would venture too deep. Foolish nobles would hunt for rare beasts. Greedy merchants would seek magical herbs. When this happened, the forest would respond with fury.
Beast tides would surge from the depths. Thousands of creatures would pour out like an angry flood. They would sweep across the land. Entire cities would vanish overnight. Thousands of innocent people would die. The survivors would whisper stories of the devastation for generations.
The eastern borders faced an even worse threat. The East Demon Sea stretched endlessly toward the horizon. Its dark waters held secrets no human had ever uncovered. This vast ocean harbored the largest concentration of demonic beings the world had ever known.
No explorer had ever crossed that sea successfully. Those who tried simply vanished. Their ships would sail into the morning mist. They would never return. The sea itself seemed alive with malevolent energy. Storms would appear from nowhere. Whirlpools would swallow entire fleets.
Sometimes, demon kings would emerge from those depths. These creatures were arrogant beyond measure. Some had gone completely mad from centuries underwater. They would rise up and declare themselves rulers of the land.
"Bow before me, pitiful humans!" they would roar. "I am your new master!"
But their reigns never lasted long. Legendary mages and warriors waited at fortified outposts along the coast. These defenders had spent decades preparing for such invasions. They would meet the demons with swift and decisive action.
The battles were spectacular. Lightning would split the sky. Fireballs would light up the night. The very ground would shake from magical forces. When the smoke cleared, another demon king would be nothing but ash on the wind.
Yet each attack served as a grim reminder. Worse horrors lurked beneath those waves. The humans knew this. The other races knew this too. It kept them all awake at night.
Ancient ruins dotted the continent like scattered puzzle pieces. These mysterious structures held secrets from a lost civilization. That ancient people had possessed knowledge beyond current understanding. Their magical artifacts defied explanation. Their inscriptions remained unreadable.
Scholars studied these ruins for decades. "How did they build such wonders?" they would ask. "What kind of magic could create this?" The questions multiplied, but answers remained elusive.
More disturbing was what the ruins implied. This advanced civilization had vanished completely. Not a single descendant remained. No stories survived. No legends explained their fate. They had simply ceased to exist.
"What could destroy such powerful people?" nervous researchers would whisper. "What if the same thing happens to us?"
Some people were born different in this world. Rare mutations appeared in bloodlines as times kept changing. A child might be born with silver eyes that could see through illusions. Another might have hands that naturally channeled healing magic. Parents would sometimes find their babies floating above their cribs.
These mutations weren't always beneficial. Some children were born with scales instead of skin. Others had nightmares that became real. A few could only speak in ancient languages no one understood.
The empires had learned to adapt. Special schools trained unusual children. Healers studied new conditions. Scholars documented every strange occurrence.
Technology had advanced in some areas of life. Magical carriages could travel vast distances quickly. They used enchanted crystals for power. Flying ships connected distant cities. Teleportation circles linked major capitals.
But communication remained primitive. No magical networks existed for long-distance messages. People relied on courier birds and traveling messengers. Information moved slowly across the empires.
"Why develop such things?" mages would ask. "We have magic for everything." This attitude had shaped their entire civilization. They used mana instead of innovation. They cast spells instead of building machines.
This was the world into which Lucian Skywalker had been born. A world of wonder and terror. A place where dreams could become reality through magic. Where nightmares might crawl out of dark forests. Where ancient mysteries waited to be solved. Where the future remained unwritten, hanging in the balance between hope and destruction.