"In this world, strength is not a gift… it is the price one pays to stay alive."
"Kara is the life energy that flows through all things. Some shape it to create, others to destroy… but all depend on it to survive."
"When the breath of Kara fades, the heart stops beating, and the soul disappears into eternal darkness."
The forest was dense and silent. Every step of the Sang Brûlé echoed like a funeral drum. His clothes were torn, his legs wobbled, and each breath burned his chest. He had survived Seiran… but fear clung to him like a second skin.
Then a voice came—low, relentless, resonating directly in his mind:
"You run fast… for someone who has failed."
The Sang Brûlé shivered, his heart pounding violently. His fingers dug into the wet mud, trying to anchor himself to reality.
— Ma-Master Shiro… I… I did not flee! I… I only wanted to report what I saw! he stammered, his voice trembling.
Silence fell again, heavy and oppressive. Even the wind seemed to have stopped.
"Are you speaking of a report, or an excuse?"
The Sang Brûlé shook his head, unable to answer. Memories crowded his mind: the corpses of his comrades, the chaos, the impassive face of the masked warrior who had cut them all down.
"And… the Zenith base… did you find it?"
— N… no, master… he murmured, his throat tight.
A cold shiver ran through him. His legs buckled, his hands shook. Every word from Shiro weighed like an invisible blade, and the air around him seemed to freeze.
"No…" Shiro repeated. "No… and you still dare to breathe after such failure."
Tears welled in his eyes. He fell to his knees, mud clinging to his clothes, the metallic taste of blood rising in his mouth. His hands searched desperately for the ground, but his mind slowly shut down.
"Look at yourself…" Shiro continued in his mind, relentless. "Breathing… but dead inside. Everything you were… consumed by your incapacity."
— P…please, master! I… I'll do better… he murmured one last time.
But his words died in his mouth. The light in his eyes flickered, then vanished. His muscles stiffened, his face froze. He still breathed… but his soul, his mind, all consciousness had been burned away. He was nothing more than an empty shell—a puppet of abandoned flesh.
The wind whistled through the trees. The forest returned to silence, as if refusing to witness the damnation that had just passed. Even the animals remained still, sensing that something terrible had occurred.
The motionless body of the Sang Brûlé stayed kneeling in the mud, and Shiro's voice faded gradually, like a cruel echo:
"Let the world continue… and let despair spread."
A few streets away, in the heart of Kazemori, the city thrummed with life. Lanterns lit the stalls, the laughter of children and the voices of merchants mingled in a cheerful din. The air was filled with the scent of roasted spices and human warmth.
Seated at the terrace of a small open-air restaurant, "Shiro Takahashi," the creator of the Sang Brûlé, read a book, impassive, dressed elegantly. His face betrayed nothing—neither boredom nor the cruelty flowing in his veins. Families laughed around him, children ran between tables, yet his eyes stayed fixed on the lines of the book.
He slowly closed the book, placed some coins on the table, and stood. His movements were fluid, calm, perfectly detached from the bustle around him.
As he crossed the busy street, a bucket of water slipped from a vendor's hands and splashed onto the ground just inches from him.
— Oh! Sir! I'm so sorry! she exclaimed, panicked.
Shiro stopped. Slowly, his gaze fell upon her. There was no shout, no anger—only a murderous aura that froze the blood. The woman felt her breath catch, her words stuck in her throat.
With a gesture almost tender, Shiro placed a hand on her shoulder. His smile was polite, charming… deceptive. Then he withdrew his hand. The vendor remained frozen, her eyes vacant, her body paralyzed. She too had become an empty shell, a silent witness to her own life fading away.
Without a backward glance, Shiro continued through the crowd, indifferent to the laughter and cries around him. The joy of Kazemori persisted, but he had left behind the seal of despair.
He walked on, impassive, the night and the city alive around him, his thoughts focused on a single name:
"A new Zenith… Raizen. Let's see if his light is strong enough to survive what I've prepared."
The Next Morning at the Zenith Side
Dawn rose softly over the sanctuary. Mist drifted between wooden rooftops, tracing ghostly trails, while the birdsong pierced the damp morning silence. Raizen, awakened too early, wandered through the courtyard, his steps muffled on the wet stone.
Then he spotted a red-haired boy quietly leaving a house, his face focused, silent. Curious and instinctively drawn, Raizen followed him, matching his steps.
The path wound between slippery stones and patches of moss. Soon, they entered a thick, silent bamboo forest. The morning wind creaked the stalks, sending a sharp green scent to Raizen's nostrils. A few rays of sunlight barely pierced the leafy ceiling, casting dancing shadows on the ground.
After several minutes, they reached an isolated clearing. The vegetation parted to reveal a circle of sand and moss. At the center stood a massive, gray, cracked stone, long used as a target. The bamboo formed a natural cage around the space, enclosing the boy and his target in a silent theater.
The boy slowly removed his Luminaire jacket, revealing his torso. Deep, old scars ran across his back, remnants of past battles. He inhaled deeply. His fists clenched, and a reddish glow began emanating from his body, as if his internal Kara simmered beneath his skin.
With a focused roar:
"HAAAH!"
He struck the stone. The shock reverberated through the clearing, shaking the ground and surrounding bamboo. The impacts continued, each more violent than the last. Small shards of stone fell to dust, yet the rock remained unmoved.
Raizen, hiding behind a bamboo stalk, held his breath.
"What strength…" he murmured. "But why is he doing this?"
The boy stepped back, raising his hands as if to further concentrate his energy. A subtle movement made the stone tremble. An invisible force seemed to push against it.
"Not yet…" he muttered, his voice hoarse and broken.
His fists, red and swollen, struck again and again. The stone groaned lightly but did not yield.
Each impact echoed like contained thunder, vibrating inside the bamboo cage. The boy's ragged breathing, his body covered in redness and sweat, testified to the intensity of his effort.
Raizen felt his heart pound. There was no spectacular destruction, but the boy's rage and determination filled the space with a palpable, almost intimidating power.
Finally, the boy fell to his knees, panting, his fists battered and red. His breath hissed, each inhalation heavy and painful. He struck the ground once more, almost against his own will:
"…Not yet… not strong enough… I… I'm not ready."
The wind made the bamboo shiver around them. Raizen remained motionless, hidden behind his natural cover, torn between fascination and unease. What he had witnessed did not show overwhelming power… but an inner rage that seemed ready to devour anything in its path.
The snap of a branch under Raizen's foot echoed in the clearing. Panicked, his heart racing, he turned and bolted along the bamboo path, legs carrying him swiftly back to the sanctuary.
Out of breath, gasping, he nearly collided with Takashi Aomi, already on his way. The white-haired man looked at him with a faint smile.
— Raizen, calm down. Are you alright? he asked.
Raizen nodded, still shaken.
— You've been called by the Zénith Stellaire… continued Takashi in a reassuring tone. But don't worry. A trainer will take care of your training. You have nothing to fear.
He nodded to Raizen and continued on, disappearing among the wooden rooftops and morning mist.
Raizen took a deep breath, regaining his composure, then made his way to where Hana and the others were waiting. The small group was already standing, lined up. Even the red-haired boy stood there calmly, as if nothing had happened that morning. The contrast between his serenity and Raizen's recent panic made him clench his fists.
Hana stepped forward, her face serious but welcoming:
— Alright, I'll introduce your comrades:
She turned to the red-haired boy:
— Danky Norland, Luminaire, apprentice under Duck Bum Darly, the man with the duck head, Zenith Stellaire. Very unpredictable, but highly promising, she added with a small smile.
Then she looked at the pink-haired girl:
— Diana Perin, Luminaire, apprentice under Emma Moji, Zenith Stellaire. Specialist in Celestial Kara, healing, and plants… she's the one who inspires me, Hana smiled.
Raizen noted that both of them already seemed familiar with their Kara. Hana continued:
— They received their Kara five days ago. So you'll be learning everything together.
Finally, she turned to Raizen:
— And this is Raizen Vithar, Luminaire, apprentice under Takashi Aomi, Zenith Stellaire. He's been here for a week, but only received his Kara yesterday.
Raizen felt the other apprentices' gazes on him. Danky gave him a small, friendly smile, while Diana timidly lowered her eyes but waved at him.
Hana made a final gesture to gather the group:
— Very well. You will soon meet the one in charge of your training. He's very nice, I assure you.
Raizen took a deep breath, clenching his fists. The Kara simmered faintly within him, but this time he felt something new: he was no longer alone in this world where strength was bought with blood.
The Luminaires felt their hearts beat a little faster. The group stood in line, attentive, as a figure approached with confidence—tall, upright, imposing.
It was Adams, leader of the Astroforges, already noted for his reputation among the Zenith Stellaire.
He stopped at the center, scanning the group with his gaze, then spoke in a deep, calm yet powerful voice:
— Hello everyone. I'm Adams, leader of the Astroforges. I am here today to oversee your training… specifically, the mastery of your Kara and the power that comes with it.
A respectful silence followed his words. Each apprentice sensed the aura of discipline and experience radiating from him. Danky Norland met Adams' gaze, and Diana lowered her eyes slightly, aware of the Astroforges leader's stature. Raizen remained focused, noting the precision in every gesture, pause, and breath.
Adams gave a slight nod, as if inviting them to concentrate.
Meanwhile, a few meters away, Takashi Aomi stood before the door leading to the Tempio Zenith. His hand brushed the ancient wood, engraved with luminous symbols, and he took a deep breath before pushing it open. The room lit slightly, revealing a singular figure: Duck Bum Darly, the man with the duck head, already observing.
Takashi's gaze met his, a mix of respect and professional camaraderie. The duck-headed man crossed his arms and nodded slightly, signaling that training was about to begin.
Duck Bum Darly (serious)
— We're the only ones summoned… let's go… let's not delay, Master Kuro.
Takashi Aomi (calm)
— Yes, let's go.
Final Scene
At the same time, in an unknown chamber, Shiro, hair white and inspiring terror, elegantly dressed, walked through a corridor holding a compass in his right hand. He opened a door and appeared in a cavern…
"The Burning Lair"—far from a crude cave, the place was an underground palace bathed in golden light and comforting warmth. Hundreds of lanterns floated in the air, illuminating marble walls and cascades of hot water falling into turquoise pools.
At the center of this opulence, accessible via a lacquered red wooden bridge, stood a perfectly crafted Japanese sanctuary. The precious wooden structure was adorned with golden leaves, and its pagoda roof seemed to touch the cavern ceiling.
Shiro crossed the bridge, his calm contrasting with the almost overwhelming vitality of the place. He entered the sanctuary where his 10 elite Sang Brûlé waited silently, kneeling.
He took his place on a throne before them, raising the compass. The needle pointed toward a distant direction.
Shiro Takahashi:
— Mag Dog failed his mission, and I am very angry.
He fixed his gaze on the Sang Brûlé, then continued:
— Your priority is to find my brother's hideout, eliminate all those Zenith Stellaire, and bring me the seed. Whoever fails will die.
A sadistic, evil, and merciless gaze swept over them… then… darkness.
END OF CHAPTER 5