In the heart of the blazing war, the clash of steel drowned out every other sound, mingling with the maddened laughter of a being no longer bound by what it meant to be human. The earth trembled beneath each step he took, and even the wind itself seemed to tear apart before the might of his presence.
In his burning eyes lived only one desire: the Nara, the sacred root-Diwa forged by Bathala to uphold the balance of the world.
But he was not alone. Five heroes stood in his path, their weapons gleaming beneath the sun, their hearts ablaze with the conviction that the world could still be protected without seizing the power of the Nara.
Kaisar: "All of you… fools! Only power brings true freedom! The weak are born for chains, and the strong are the ones who shape reality!"
One by one, their bodies faltered. Blood mingled with the dust of battle. Steps once steadfast grew unsteady; cries of defiance crumbled into the wails of defeat.
Kaisar stood tall, smiling as his hand reached for the Nara. His palm pressed against the sacred tree, and a dreadful energy surged through the land.
His laughter echoed across the mountains.
In that moment, the Nara's seal awakened. Leaves shimmered like a thousand stars in the night; roots blazed like lightning crawling across the earth.
Then came a voice cold, merciless, resounding from both heaven and earth:
Voice of the Nara: "Enough. This power was never meant for one such as you."
Light burst forth, engulfing Kaisar. He struggled, his roars swallowed by the furious seal.
Kaisar: "No…! What is this?! Bathala! This is the truth behind the Nara!"
But resistance was futile. Instead of vanishing into nothingness, something far stranger took place.
The light of the Nara shattered like glass, and time itself surged forward into what had not yet come to pass. The world around him dissolved sky and earth turned to ash and from the jaws of death, a miracle was born.
When he opened his eyes, there was no battlefield, no blood, no dust. Only the cold rain falling gently from above.
His handsonce scarred and hardened by rage were now small, pale, and innocent.
A child
A new beginning.
But he was no longer the same man he once was. Beneath the silence of the rain-soaked sky, Kaisar found himself in the frail body of a boy weak in flesh, yet sharp in mind, burdened with memories from another life. The rage and greed that once burned fiercely within him had now settled into something colder, sharper, and far more cunning.
It did not take long for him to notice where fate had cast him. He was now a member of the Luwan clan. Though of humble birth, there was an odd calmness about him; his eyes carried a depth that seemed far too old for his youthful face.
Climbing atop the high stone wall, he sat quietly, watching the training grounds below. There, young members of the clan drilled with their weapons and channeled strange, mystical powers. Their chants and movements echoed through the courtyard, leaving imprints of discipline upon the earth.
Even in the body of a child, Kaisar remained reserved and calculating. He did not mingle with the others, but every glance, every breath, was measured. His thoughts spun like a storm shifting between the past he had lost and the new opportunity placed before him.
Drawing a deep breath, he reflected: though his body was that of a boy, the world before him brimmed with possibilities. Every gesture, every choice of his fellow clansmen was like a piece on a vast game board one he would one day control.
Kaisar (thought):
"So… I've been thrown into the future. Two hundred and fifty years since I claimed the sacred Nara. And now, reborn as a child because of its mistake. Yet nothing has truly changed… my plan continues. And this time, there will be no room for failure."
Quietly, he descended from the wall, each step deliberate. The world was vast, but Kaisar's gaze was fixed only on one thing to climb once more into power, this time wiser, sharper, and ever watchful.
Under the cold rain, the boy smiled. Not with joy, but with the faint curl of a plan taking root an origin greater than his past.
Then a voice, calm yet filled with authority, called from below:
"Master Kaisar, it's time to eat. Don't miss it today's meal was prepared with care."
Kaisar turned, noticing for the first time since his rebirth the attendant assigned to serve the Luwal Clan. The simple summons, spoken with warmth and discipline, tethered him to this new world to this new life.
He offered a slight nod and walked toward the stairs that led into the clan hall. Each step was steady, precise. He was ready to rewrite his destiny from the very beginning.
Inside the great hall, he immediately noticed a man seated at the long table. His presence was commanding, his aura overwhelming.
It was Apolaki Luwal.
For a moment, Kaisar halted, studying the man he had yet to recognize as his father. Behind his calm expression, cold calculations stirred.
Apolaki: "Kaisar, you seem deep in thought. Come, eat with me."
He smiled faintly, then called for a servant.
Apolaki: "Lisa, bring us the mangoes."
The attendant bowed and departed, leaving father and son alone at the table. Apolaki's sharp eyes lingered on his child.
Apolaki: "You will not remain a boy forever. It is time you learned to wield your inner power. Every member of the Luwal Clan bears a duty, and you, above all, must rise to yours."
Kaisar listened in silence, suppressing the smirk tugging at his lips. Inside, he knew this was the moment to use this new beginning as the foundation for his greater plan.
kaisar (thought):
"Diwa… Once, I held the power of the Nara itself. Now, this is the first step. From here, I will rebuild my path."
He nodded slowly, a faintly calculated smile forming.
Kaisar: "Yes, Father. I am ready to learn."
Three days later.
Kaisar sat quietly at the back of the classroom, near the window where the cold wind drifted through. The room buzzed with tension and excitement, filled with young students from various clans. All eyes were fixed on their instructor, Britaza, a renowned teacher of Diwa techniques.
Britaza: "Listen well. There are five primary elements of Diwa(inner power) fire, water, earth, wind, and lightning. Each of you holds a unique Diwa within. But remember spirits are not simply inherited. Not every child carries the same Diwa as their parents. A Diwa is the secret of your soul… something only you can uncover."
From a chest of silver and gold, Britaza carefully drew forth a piece of wood that shimmered faintly with its own inner light. The air itself seemed to bend to the sanctity of its presence.
Britaza: "This… is a fragment of the Nara, the sacred root-Diwa forged by Bathala. Rarely does anyone lay eyes on it. Yet here, in this class, it will reveal which element resides within you. The Nara itself will judge."
He explained patiently:
• If your Diwa is fire, the fragment will ignite.
• If water, new leaves will sprout.
• If earth, the wood will anchor itself to the ground.
• If wind, the wood will bulge and twist.
• If lightning, cracks will split across its surface like thunder's mark.
Whispers rippled through the students. Some faces gleamed with eagerness, others with fear.
One by one, they stepped forward. Each touch of the fragment brought its reaction flames, sprouts, roots, twists, or lightning's scars. Fourteen students in total were tested, each result met with gasps, applause, or murmurs of awe.
And then, all eyes turned to the final student seated in the back Kaisar. He sat in silence, his face unreadable, yet a faint, cold smile tugged at his lips.
Britaza: "Kaisar. Step forward. Let us see what Diwa the Nara reveals within you."
Kaisar rose slowly. Each step carried weight, like echoes from another time. The room hushed, as if even breath itself paused.
Kaisar (thought):
"Nara… If this truly is an original fragment, it will never be enough to bind me."
His hand touched the piece.
It erupted.
Not a spark, not a flicker of flame like the others but a fire so fierce it seemed to devour even the air of the chamber.
Students gasped. Some stumbled back. Silence fell, thick and suffocating.
Kaisar inhaled deeply, a cold murmur threading through his thoughts.
Kaisar (thought): "No fragment of the Nara will ever restrain me…"
Britaza's eyes widened, color draining from his face. Fear flickered within him, though he forced composure. He stepped closer, speaking to the class in a steady tone.
Britaza: "Magnificent, Kaisar. The Nara's response surpasses all expectation. That flame… is proof of extraordinary potential."
The students whispered in waves envy, admiration, unease. Yet Britaza's thoughts burrowed deeper:
Britaza(thought): "This is no ordinary flame… Never before have I seen such power. This boy… he may exceed the very limits of the Luwal Clan."
Five hours later, after the class had been dismissed.
Kaisar walked the long corridors in silence, a book cradled in his arms. His eyes traced every page with razor focus it was a tome on Diwa beasts, ancient creatures of immense power, capable of becoming either weapon or companion to those who bore a Diwa.
With each turn of the page, their forms and natures carved themselves into his mind:
• Papanok(Eagle) – a majestic bird granting sharp perception and soaring Diwa, able to pierce through hidden truths and guide its master's path.
• baobao(turtle) – an ancient guardian of endurance and defense, its shell a living fortress, conjuring winds and barriers to withstand any assault.
• Tobis(firefly) – small but cunning, a trickster of illusions, bending light to deceive foes and cloak allies.
• BINGUS(fish) – a colossal fish of the waters, its movements like fire within the sea, able to command the tides and swallow all who stand in its way.
Kaisar closed the book, a faint, chilling smile curling across his lips.
Kaisar: "These are but the beasts recorded by men… temporary Diwa, bound by knowledge. But I know the truth. There are creatures hidden in this world unwritten, waiting only for the right hand… the right will… to call them forth."
The rain tapped softly against the windows. In the quiet, the boy who once shattered empires sat with a patience forged from centuries, his eyes set not on the limits of history… but on the secrets beyond it.
Kaisar walked on until he reached the compound of the Luwal Clan. Just before he entered, he noticed the stares the whispers carried in hushed tones.
Clan members, teachers, even fellow students all eyes were drawn to him. Not for his silence, not for his aloof demeanor, but for the blazing fire he had unleashed upon the fragment of the Nara earlier that day.
Whisper 1: "Was that really him? That fire… it wasn't natural."
Whisper 2: "No one has ever drawn such a response from the Nara. That boy is… different."
Kaisar remained quiet. No words, no unnecessary movements. Yet within, a cold smile formed.
Kaisar (thought):"So, they see me differently now… Good."
Without breaking stride, he moved straight to his quarters. Entering, he set the book upon the table and sat at the edge of his bed. In the silence, he muttered faintly to himself:
Kaisar: "I need to strengthen the diwa within me…"
Closing his eyes, he carefully delved inward, reaching for the essence that slumbered inside. But soon, a sharp pain struck his chest, his small body trembling under the weight of its own frailty.
Kaisar (thought): "This… is the limit of a child's body. Too weak. Yet I will not stop. I must grow my spirit, no matter how long it takes."
He endured the pain for several minutes, gritting through the burning ache, before finally releasing his focus. Slowly, he lay back onto the bed, eyes drifting shut as fatigue pressed down upon him.
Sleep claimed him at last quiet, steady, and restless with the promise of the power he would one day reclaim.
The following day, Kaisar entered the classroom once more. As he made his way to his seat, his eyes immediately caught sight of three unfamiliar faces standing at the front of the room. He watched them in silence, noting each movement, each subtle gesture, as they adjusted their belongings.
Their teacher, Britaza, rose with a calm smile.
Britaza: "Before we begin today's lesson, let us welcome three new members of our class. Step forward and introduce yourselves your name and your clan."
The first to step up was a boy tall, straight-backed, brimming with confidence.
Britaza"This is Yakito, hailing from the Marata clan , long renowned as the source of many gifted Diwa users. His potential is remarkable."
Next came a girl with long hair and clear, striking eyes. She bowed lightly before speaking.
Britaza: "This is Manda, of the MaliliClan, famed for their mastery in Diwa-Animals. Even at her age, she has already proven her ability as a bearer of diwa."
Finally, a young woman stepped forward. Her presence was serene, yet her aura carried a subtle sharpness.
Britaza: "And this is Risa, from Anitoki Clan a clan of modest reputation, but do not mistake that for lack of potential."
The room stirred with murmurs and curiosity. Kaisar sat quietly, eyes narrowing, a cold smile forming unseen by the others.
Kaisar (thought): "Three distinct talents. Yakito and Manda… naturals, each with solid foundations. But Riza… she may prove to be a wildcard."
Britaza allowed the class a moment to observe the newcomers. Students whispered, their voices brimming with curiosity and excitement.
One by one, they approached the three, eager to know what powers they carried.
Manda spoke first, her voice confident, assured:
Manda: "My Diwa is Water. And I also bear a Diwa-Animal a serpent."
Gasps rippled across the class. Awe filled their eyes, and admiration echoed in their voices.
The attention then turned to Riza.
Stundents: "What about you, Riza? What's yours?"
Riza smiled softly, a touch of shyness in her tone.
Riza: "Wind… but. I haven't mastered it yet."
The students responded with warm encouragement.
Stundents: "That's alright. Teacher Britaza will guide us all."
Riza's smile deepened, gratitude flickering in her eyes.
At last, the curious eyes turned to Yakito. But when they asked, the boy's gaze darkened. He stared at them with an intensity that carried the weight of anger cold and unyielding. Not a single word left his lips.
The air grew tense. Whispers faltered. Even the chatter of the boldest students fell into silence.
From his seat, Kaisar observed with quiet interest, his mind already weaving calculations.
Kaisar (thought): "Interesting… Yakito chooses silence, but his spirit burns louder than any boast. These three… may be the first pieces of a much greater game."
The room fell into silence. Yakito's glare froze the air itself, silencing questions before they could be spoken. Whispers hushed, nervous glances darted across the class. Some felt fear, others unease.
Kaisar, however, remained unmoved. He sat quietly, a faint, cold smile hidden within.
Kaisar(thought): "Yakito… his aura is different. He hides something."
Their gazes locked two sharp blades crossing without words. Both weighed the other's strength, both measuring the resolve that burned beneath the surface.
At that moment, Teacher Britaza stepped forward, his calm smile breaking the tension.
Britaza: "Now, I will teach you how to strengthen your Diwa. Before you can face real combat, you must first learn to command your spirit with precision."
His voice was firm yet steady, carrying a weight that pulled the class back to focus.
The lesson began with the basics concentration and control.
Britaza: "Diwa training starts here. You must learn to channel your spirit into every movement. Each action, no matter how small, must come from your Diwa clear in purpose, free of chaos."
He demonstrated with steady grace. Simple stances, controlled breathing, subtle motions guided by spirit. His Diwa shimmered faintly, flowing like unseen threads binding his movements together.
Britaza : "Think of Diwa as fire or water. Left uncontrolled, it burns and drowns. But directed with discipline, it becomes power itself. Each step, each exercise, must hold meaning."
The students listened intently. Silence filled the room, broken only by the rhythm of steady breaths as they followed his instructions.
Kaisar observed, calm as always, though inwardly a cold satisfaction stirred.
Kaisar (thought): "So this is the foundation. If I can refine my Diwa properly, I'll seize control… and bend every opportunity to my advantage."
That evening, rain pattered against the world outside. Kaisar returned home, his steps unhurried, his expression unchanged. The halls of the clan compound lay in silence, disturbed only by the steady downpour.
Inside his room, he sat upon his bed and placed the book before him. The candlelight flickered across its worn surface.
Kaisar (thought):"It's time to strengthen my Diwa. If both body and mind are prepared, the next step will come easier."
Closing his eyes, he steadied his breath. The sound of rain became distant, replaced by the faint rhythm of his spirit as he began his solitary training.
Kaisar closed his eyes and drew in a slow breath. He focused his mind, probing deeper, reaching for the spirit within his body. A chill, like a current of water, flowed through his palms and chest. Little by little, his sense of Diwa grew firmer, clearer, as if the very air around him had begun to answer his will.
Minutes passed in unbroken concentration. His young body, fragile and easily exhausted, now felt the heavy weight of new power surging inside him. Pain gnawed at his muscles, fatigue pressed down on his bones, but he ignored it all his purpose was sharper than suffering.
Kaisar(thought):
"Talent alone is nothing. My Diwa must be sharpened, controlled, tempered before I face any true battle. This is the foundation of my rise."
His breathing deepened, steady. The faint whisper of the Diwa inside him became clearer, almost like a voice speaking guiding him, showing him how to draw out more of its strength.
In the silence of his chamber, the boy stood unmoving, lost in unwavering focus. Even in such a small body, the determination radiating from him was unshakable. He knew every moment spent strengthening his Diwa would become the foundation of the future he planned to seize.
Elsewhere, far from the quiet of the Luwal Clan, another youth carried his own ambitions.
Yakito exhaled sharply, his lips curling into a smirk.
"No one here will ever trouble me. I'll lead this class… I'll lead them all."
He cast his gaze across the faces around him, dismissing them with a glance. To him, they were weak mere shadows standing in his way.
As he strode through the courtyard of his clan, a familiar figure waited by the great stone wall. His elder brother, Makito, the current head of their Ankan, greeted him with a calm smile.
"Yakito," Makito said warmly, "how was your first day?"
Yakito returned a faint smile, his voice controlled and even.
"It went well. No problems at all."
But within his heart, his thoughts were far colder:
"One day, I'll surpass you, brother. You may be head of the clan now, but I'll take that place. I'll surpass everyone, no matter what it costs."
His steps echoed with quiet arrogance, each stride heavy with determination. The fire in his eyes was not one of doubt but of absolute resolve.
Later that evening, Yakito approached Makito again, bowing his head with rare humility.
"Brother… will you train me once more in strengthening my Diwa?"
Makito studied him for a long moment, then nodded.
"Very well. If that is your wish, let us begin."
And beneath the cold night sky, the two brothers faced each other in the clan's training grounds. Sparks of energy flickered between them, as the bond of blood became the crucible for ambition.
While they trained beneath the pale glow of lantern light, Makito guided his younger brother with patient authority. Every movement of his hands, every word he spoke, carried the weight of mastery.
"Yakito," he said evenly, "there are five fundamental ranks of Diwa. You must understand them well without this knowledge, your power will remain aimless."
He raised his hand, letting a faint current of Diwa spark in the air between his fingers as he explained:
• Rank 5 – the lowest tier. A wielder can release Diwa stronger than ordinary men, but with limited control.
• Rank 4 – greater refinement. At this stage, one can control the flow whether to unleash Diwa in a torrent or a whisper.
• Rank 3– advanced mastery. Not only can one regulate strength, but also direct the flow, sustaining it continuously without collapse.
• Rank 2 – near the summit. At this rank, a wielder can command two or more elements simultaneously, weaving them together in harmony.
• Rank 1 – the highest. A legendary state, where one may control all five elements of Diwa at once. Few in all of history have ever reached it.
But beyond these five ranks, there existed a unique level outside the ordinary known as the Specialist Diwa User.
At this stage, one gained the ability to create entirely new forms of Diwa by merging two or more elements together.
For example, by combining the Diwa of earth and water, one could bring forth grass or even trees manifestations of power no ordinary rank could achieve.
Makito shuddered.
In his mind, a chilling truth rose with terrifying clarity:
Makito (thought):
"The only ones who had ever reached the level of Specialist were the five legendary heroes warriors capable of merging two Diwa to forge powers unseen by mortals… and, above all, their greatest foe a demon who could wield three Diwa at once, a force beyond even the heroes themselves."
As the thought crossed his mind, a cold wind brushed against the back of his neck like the shadow of that demon stirring once more from legend.
Yakito's eyes burned as he absorbed each word. His fists clenched, his ambition soaring higher with every rank described.
Yakito (thought):
"I will not stop until I reach the peak. Even Rank 1 will bow to me."
Elsewhere, in the stillness of another home, Manda sat quietly before her father. The lamplight cast shadows across the lines of his weathered face lines carved by years of struggle, leadership, and unyielding expectation.
"Manda," he said firmly, his tone carrying both pride and command, "excel in your studies. Not for yourself alone, but for the honor of our Clan."
Manda lowered her gaze, nodding with quiet respect.
Her father leaned closer, his voice heavy with authority.
"One day, you will take my place. But talent is not enough. You must reach Rank Three of Diwa at the very least. Only then will you be able to control powerful Diwa-Animals and they are the true wealth of our clan."
The words hung in the air like chains of responsibility. Manda's hands tightened on her lap, but in her eyes, a spark of determination flickered. She understood her future, her clan's pride, and her very worth depended on how high she could climb.
Manda sat in silence, bowing her head slightly in respect.
Her father's gaze was steady, firm, carrying the weight of years spent leading their Clan.
"You will one day take my place," he said, his voice both commanding and grave. "But talent alone is not enough. You must reach Rank Three in Diwa. Only those who attain Rank Three can command powerful Diwa-Animals and they are the true wealth of our clan."
Manda clenched her fists tightly. In her mind, the image of her Diwa-Animal the snake surfaced. She could feel its cold presence coiling within her spirit, wrapping around her very soul.
Manda's (thought):
"If I do not reach Rank Three, I am worthless… I cannot live up to their expectations."
Her father rose and placed a firm hand on her shoulder, anchoring her resolve.
"Remember this, child," he said. "Our clan is respected for the strength of our Diwa-Animals. Should you fail, the pride of our entire Clan will crumble."
A brief silence followed. Manda nodded tightly, a spark of fire igniting in her eyes.
"I will not fail you, Father. I will reach Rank Three… and surpass it."
Her father offered a faint, approving smile, but his expression quickly hardened again.
"Yet remember this, child. Your Diwa-Animal is weak a small, fragile snake. It is neither as fierce nor as powerful as the Diwa-Animals held by other members of our Clan."
Manda lowered her gaze slightly, feeling the sting of his words. In her mind, the image of her snake returned: thin, fragile, yet its eyes glimmered with a strange, quiet light in the darkness.
"If you wish to prove yourself worthy of leading one day," her father continued, "you must strengthen that snake. Even if it is weak, the power to shape its fate lies in your hands."
Manda's fists clenched so tightly that her nails bit into her palms.
Manda's (thought):
"They call it weak… But I will show them that even the frailest snake can become a venomous monster."
Under the serene night sky, Riza knelt before her father's grave. The cool breeze brushed against her cheeks, and the only sound that filled the silence was the faint chirping of crickets. In her hands, she held a small basket of flowers, gently placing them at the foot of the tombstone.
For a long moment, she remained still, staring at the carved name etched into the stone.
"Father… I want to become a Diwa Master, just like you. And not only that I will surpass what you have achieved."
Her fists clenched tightly, the fire of determination burning within her despite the cold night air. A faint smile touched her lips not of joy, but of resolute promise.
After a few moments of silence, Riza rose and turned away. As she walked, the dim glow of the lantern she carried slowly faded into the darkness. Each step she took was weighted with her vow, a promise to one day not only emulate her father but to exceed him.
When she returned to the Anitoki Clan Hall, the warm glow of the household lanterns greeted her. She entered quietly, but in her eyes burned a flame of determination, a desire to prove herself to the world.
Days passed, and Kaisar continued his training in the clan's grounds. Every strike, every movement was imbued with unyielding resolve, pushing his young body to its limits. In a single motion, he tested the release of his Diwa. Flames erupted from his palms bright, intense, and complete. In that instant, he realized that he had reached Rank 5 Diwa in an astonishingly short time.
From the edge of the training ground, his father appeared, observing him with a faint, approving smile.
"Well, well… impressive. Just as I expected. You've reached Rank 5 in such a short period," his father said.
Kaisar paused, sitting beside one of the pillars his father had constructed. In a quiet voice, he asked,
"Father… what does power truly mean to you?"
The elder gazed at the sky for a long moment, as if drawing the answer from the depths of his experience. After a weighty silence, he spoke:
"Kaisar, power is like fire held in your hands. It can illuminate the paths of many, but it can also reduce everything to ashes if wielded without purpose. To me, power is not merely strength or rank. It is a test a question you will always face: 'For whom do you wield it?' If it is only for yourself, it will end in ashes. But if it is for others, it becomes a light that will never die."
Kaisar smiled faintly and nodded, replying softly,
"Your philosophy is truly remarkable, Father."
Yet in his mind, another voice echoed cold and bitter:
"For others? For them? This is how humans are… always putting others first, but when they are in need, no one returns the favor. Their so-called sacrifices are nothing but self-denial. So why give everything for them?"