The wind howled softly across the golden fields of Luminaris. Yeshwanth stood under a sky painted with streaks of violet and amber, still dazed from the journey through the divine portal. Everything around him shimmered with quiet life — trees that glowed faintly, distant cities suspended in light, and a horizon that bent like glass.
Before he could even breathe properly, a voice broke through the silence.
"Yeshwanth," said the God of Light, materializing beside him again, his aura calm but sharp as sunlight through crystal. "Before you begin, there is something you must know."
Yeshwanth turned quickly. "You again… What now?"
The god's expression was serious. "Exactly one year from now, there will be the God's Spirit of Fight — the tournament where gods, heroes, and chosen mortals clash to determine the balance of realms. You will represent me… against the God of Realms' champions."
Yeshwanth's eyes widened. "You mean… I'll be fighting divine warriors?"
"Yes. The deadliest fighters across the cosmos. Dragons of flame, angels of destruction, knights who've slain gods themselves. You will face them all. And if you win, your wish — to be with Nila — will be honored even by the heavens."
The words struck him like thunder. For a moment, he couldn't even breathe. "A-and if I lose?"
The god's gaze turned distant. "Then your soul will fade into the void between worlds. So… don't lose."
The god raised his hand, and a tiny golden orb appeared, hovering between them. It pulsed like a living heart. "Take this," he said. "A fragment of my divine power. When you are pushed beyond your limits, this light will awaken and boost one of your abilities. But it can only be used once. Choose that moment wisely."
Yeshwanth took the orb carefully, feeling warmth flow into his veins. It disappeared into his chest, leaving behind a faint symbol glowing on his hand — a mark of light.
"Also," the god continued, "remember how time flows differently between worlds. One day here equals three hours in your world. That means you can balance both lives — your Earthly challenge and your divine mission — but manage your time carefully. Once the year is over, you must return for the tournament."
Yeshwanth nodded slowly. "Understood… I'll be ready."
The god smiled faintly. "Good. Then I'll see you in a month. Survive, learn, grow — and prove that even mortals can rise beyond fate."
With a flash of radiant energy, the God of Light vanished, leaving behind only the whisper of his voice:
"Your journey begins now, Yeshwanth. Don't waste the dawn."
Silence returned. Yeshwanth stood alone in the wide plain, the glowing mark still warm on his skin. He sighed deeply, looking at the endless landscape.
"So you just leave me here, huh?" he muttered. "No guide, no map, no money… only a glowing tattoo and a lot of confusion."
He rubbed his neck. "How am I even supposed to live here?"
Still, he started walking. The air was crisp, and far ahead, he could see towers piercing the sky — a city. "Guess that's my only choice."
After hours of walking along dirt roads lined with luminous plants, he finally reached the city gates. It was massive — marble buildings laced with silver, floating crystals illuminating streets, and people wearing all kinds of exotic clothes. The name carved on the gate read: Aurellion City — Capital of the Light Realm.
"Wow…" Yeshwanth breathed. "This looks like something straight out of an anime opening."
He passed through the gates, feeling hundreds of eyes glance at him — his Earth-style clothes looked odd here. Ignoring the stares, he made his way to the grand building at the city center that bore a golden sign:
"Aurellion Business Association."
He remembered the god's words — this was the city meant for his business investment. If he wanted to become a millionaire, this was the first step.
Inside, the lobby gleamed with polished floors and hovering screens displaying different company names. Behind the counter sat a receptionist — an elegant woman with short silver hair and sharp eyes.
"Welcome to the Business Association," she said politely. "How may I help you?"
"I… I'd like to register a business," Yeshwanth said awkwardly. "A new startup, maybe?"
Her eyes scanned him from head to toe. "A new business? You need an initial investment of 200,000 light credits for registration. How much do you have?"
Yeshwanth's smile froze. "Uh… zero."
Her polite expression faded instantly. "Then I'm afraid you can't apply."
The nearby clerks and businessmen glanced over, whispering and snickering.
"Another dreamer."
"Probably doesn't even know how currency works here."
"Look at him — looks lost."
Yeshwanth clenched his jaw. The humiliation stung, but he forced a small grin. "Thanks for the info," he muttered, backing away from the counter.
As he stepped outside, he looked up at the glowing towers. "Two hundred thousand… huh? Guess becoming a millionaire won't be easy here either."
He kicked a pebble in frustration and kept walking aimlessly until he noticed another building nearby — this one smaller, but much louder and full of energy. The sign above it read:
"Aurellion Adventurer's Association."
He stopped. "Adventurers… people who take jobs for money, right?"
Taking a deep breath, he pushed open the door. The inside was bustling — armored warriors, mages, and merchants talking loudly, posting missions on a giant crystal board. A faint smell of steel and smoke filled the air.
Behind the front counter stood a receptionist with dark blue hair tied in a ponytail, wearing a black and white uniform. Her sharp eyes immediately noticed him.
"Hey there," she called. "You're new, aren't you? What's your name?"
"Yeshwanth," he said, straightening up a bit. "From… another city."
She smirked. "Figures. So, Yeshwanth-from-another-city, what brings you here?"
"I'm looking to register as an adventurer," he said confidently. "And if possible, take on a job right away."
Her eyebrows rose slightly. "You sure you're ready? Some missions here aren't for beginners."
"I'll take whatever you've got," Yeshwanth said. "I need to earn fast."
The receptionist studied him for a moment, then shrugged. "Alright. There is one mission available… though it's complicated."
"I'll do it."
She blinked. "You didn't even ask what it is."
He grinned slightly. "Doesn't matter. If it pays well, I'll do it."
She laughed under her breath. "Alright, tough guy. Listen carefully. The task is to protect the daughter of the President of the Business Association. We received a threat that rival merchants from the Shadow City plan to kidnap her during the upcoming Trade Festival."
Yeshwanth's eyes widened slightly. "Protect the president's daughter…? That's not exactly small work."
"Exactly," she said. "You'll be acting as her temporary bodyguard for three days. Payment is 150,000 light credits if completed successfully."
That number lit up in Yeshwanth's mind like fireworks. "That's… almost enough for my business license!"
"So," she said, folding her arms, "are you in?"
He smiled. "I'm in."
"Good. Then be here by dawn tomorrow. You'll meet the client's team and get the details. Try not to die on your first mission."
"I'll keep that in mind," he said with a half-laugh.
He turned and stepped out into the evening. The twin suns of Luminaris were setting, painting the sky in layers of blue and gold. The streets glowed faintly, alive with people heading home.
Yeshwanth found a small inn near the city gates and rented a cheap room for the night. As he lay on the bed, staring at the glowing ceiling, he muttered, "Protecting someone important, earning my first money, maybe even starting my own company… not bad for a first day."
But deep down, nervousness twisted in his stomach. "I have no weapon. No armor. No experience. Just guts."
He turned on his side, sighing. "Guess that's all I've ever had, huh?"
Outside, the night deepened. And as the last light faded from the sky, something strange happened. A faint shimmer appeared near the window — a shape forming slowly in mid-air. Yeshwanth sat up, eyes wide.
There, resting against the wall, was a weapon. Sleek, faintly glowing, forged from some unknown metal — as if it had been waiting for him all along.
He stared at it silently, the mark of light on his hand glowing in response.
"So… this is it," he whispered. "My first weapon."
The blade pulsed once, almost like it understood him.
He smiled faintly. "Then let's fight together."
The camera of fate pulled back — showing the small inn glowing faintly under the twin moons. Somewhere above, the God of Light watched quietly from his celestial realm.
"Good, Yeshwanth," he murmured. "Let's see if the mortal who defied gods can also build an empire."
And far away, in the Realm of Realms, the God of Realms stood before his throne, unaware that destiny had already chosen its challenger.