The hero responsible for the catastrophe was named Mo, though everyone now called him "Mo the Catastrophe" for the devastation he had unleashed.
Ten years had passed, and fifteen since the Catastrophe. In that time, human cities had grown considerably, their power increasing, and they had divided into several alliances. Each alliance was led by one of the Saviors, governing one city or more. As for Mo the Catastrophe, he had long been forgotten, erased from the collective memory of the public.
One day, in the middle of the fifteenth year after the Catastrophe, a sixteen-year-old boy was training with wind mana. He played alongside a girl wielding fire mana at a training center belonging to the Rox Alliance, located in the city of New South.
His name was Sandro. Handsome, with jet-black hair and eyes that held a flicker of red within their darkness. The girl, Nua, was fifteen, blonde, with golden eyes, her presence radiating the aura of her high status.
After their training session, both visibly tired, Sandro spoke:
"You're improving with your mana, Nua… I might not be able to defeat you in the years to come."
He looked at Nua's face, flushed with a hint of shyness. She responded with a modest smile:
"You're lucky—you'll gain more experience when you go out to hunt monsters next week, while I… and you're the only wind mana user… there's no one else like you in the entire world."
Sandro quickly replied:
"You may not be able to go hunting, but there are reasons for that. You're the daughter of two Saviors, and the next leader of the Rox Alliance, so your status is extremely high… and being the only wind mana user isn't entirely true—there was someone else who used wind mana."
As soon as the words left his mouth, he realized his mistake: the other person was her father, whose wife had been killed by Mo the Catastrophe—her mother. Sandro hurried to correct himself:
"I-I didn't mean—"
Nua interrupted him calmly and firmly:
"It's fine… he's dead to me."
Sandro smiled awkwardly, placing a hand on his chest:
"I'm sorry."
Frustration lingered on his face. After a brief exchange, they each went their separate ways.
A carriage awaited Nua, ready to take her home. Sandro, however, used his wind magic to create small floating orbs beneath his feet, allowing him to glide smoothly and swiftly across the ground as if propelled by invisible engines.
They went their separate paths; Nua toward a luxurious mansion reflecting her high status, and Sandro toward a modest apartment where he lived alone, away from the city's noise—a place suited to his independent and humble nature.