This book is a testament to one of the strongest mages ever to dwell in this world.
He split the sky, shattered mountains, and slew fearsome monsters that made grown men tremble.
He was the greatest—
If that's the kind of person you hoped this book belonged to, trust me... close it right now.
Welcome to the magical world of Velhilia.
Every child here hears this from birth: our world has magic.
Mages cast fireballs. Sword wielders enchant their blades. Healers mend wounds. Nobles enhance their charm and flirt their way through every banquet.
But of all the ways to use magic, it serves one main purpose: protecting us from monsters.
Humans and monsters have been at war for a thousand years. Monsters enter our world through Dimensional Rifts—gateways connecting our realm to theirs. No one knows why we fight, but one thing is certain: monsters exist to kill humans.
That's why we have Hunters—trained individuals who take down monsters using their Talents.
It's the riskiest job in the world. Also the most sought-after.
Just like so many others, my dream is to become a Hunter.
You'd expect me to say, "Monsters? Piece of cake! I'll blast them with fireballs so big they shake the mountains!"
Well... you couldn't be more wrong.
At twelve, I was heading to the town hall for my Talent Awakening Ceremony—and I couldn't have been happier.
I skipped down the path, pelting rocks into the lake while holding my sister's hand. She was starting to get annoyed with my antics, but I was too busy daydreaming about my talent.
"Sis, I'm going to get a fire talent! I'll blast those ugly monsters into smithereens! KABOOM!" I shouted.
She smiled.
My sister and I lived in a house outside the city—basically the countryside. Ever since I can remember, it's just been me and her. Our parents died when I was young, and she's raised me ever since.
Long black hair, warm brown eyes, and a smile that could disarm anyone—but don't let her looks fool you. When she gets serious, it's game over.
She's the strongest swordswoman in our entire province. One of her Talents—Warrior Goddess—lets her wield any weapon with perfection.
"Let's hope you don't blow anything up inside the house. You cause enough chaos without a talent." She ruffled my hair.
"Ooh, what about healing? I can heal you when you fight those monsters!" I puffed out my chest with pride.
"That could be very helpful—for the monsters, that is." She chuckled.
"Huh? What do you mean?" I blinked.
"I'll be too busy saving you to fight them." She laughed, wiping tears of amusement from her eyes.
"Oi, oi, oi! One day I'll be stronger than you! Then I'll make fun of you!" I yelled, full of confidence.
"Then I suppose I've got another century to relax." She giggled and ran ahead.
"Oi! I'm the one attending the ceremony, not you!" I shouted, chasing after her.
The streets grew more crowded the closer we got to the Awakening Hall.
Families streamed toward the hall from every direction—some in fine clothes, others in simple work tunics. Parents clutched their children's hands tightly, their faces a mix of hope and anxiety.
I watched a girl about my age walking beside her father. She looked terrified, her eyes wide and glassy. Her father kept whispering encouragement, but she didn't seem to hear him.
Another boy strutted ahead of his parents, chest puffed out, practically radiating confidence. He reminded me of myself—certain he'd get something amazing.
The air buzzed with nervous energy. Whispered prayers. Hushed conversations. The occasional nervous laugh.
My own heart hammered in my chest. This was it. This was the day that would change everything.
Eventually, we reached the Awakening Hall—easily the largest structure in sight, with huge pillars and ancient doors.
The guards recognized my sister immediately and stepped aside, one of them practically tripping over himself to let us through.
I winked at him. He flinched.
Inside, I stopped and stared.
The hall was full of people, yet it still had ample space. It looked large from outside, but from within, it seemed three or maybe even four times the original size.
"Luke, close your mouth. It's magic that did this. Wait till you see more in your future." She pressed my jaw shut with her hand.
My mouth dropped open again.
"Magic sure is fun."
I glanced at the time—five minutes before the ceremony started.
"Oh shit." I broke away from my sister. "We don't have time—hurry!"
I dashed to the registration desk, slammed my form down, gave my name, and barely heard the receptionist's excited gasp when my sister appeared behind me.
A moment later, we were through the doors and entering the awakening chamber.
Everyone was already assembled.
The room fell silent as we stepped inside. Dozens of children stood in neat rows, their parents lining the walls. The air felt thick, heavy with anticipation and fear.
I scanned the faces around me. Some kids looked excited, bouncing on their heels. Others looked like they might be sick. A few were crying quietly, being comforted by their parents.
The chamber itself was breathtaking—circular, with a domed ceiling that seemed to shimmer with trapped starlight. Ancient runes glowed faintly along the walls, pulsing like a heartbeat.
My own heart raced. My palms were sweating. This was really happening.
I looked at my sister; she nodded. We both knew how important this was.
As all eyes turned to me, I stepped forward to join the others.
No one spoke. We were all too nervous—this was the moment that would decide our future.
The servants of the hall approached us, each handing out awakening stones.
The servant placed one in my hand. It was smooth and cool to the touch, about the size of a large egg, with a faint blue glow emanating from within. It felt heavier than it looked—not physically, but like it carried weight beyond measure.
I stared at it, my reflection distorted in its polished surface.
This is it. This little stone is going to show me who I really am.
Once everyone had their stone, the elder, Wong Lee, stepped forward.
He was old, with eyes that seemed even older, but he smiled kindly as his deep, steady voice filled the room.
"Children of Velhilia." His voice carried across the chamber like a gentle wind. "For a thousand years, humanity has stood against the darkness. A thousand years of monsters pouring through rifts into our world. A thousand years of fighting, dying, and rebuilding."
He paused, letting the weight of history settle over us.
"We have not survived because we are the strongest. We survive because we stand together. The hunter who slays the monster, the healer who mends the wounded, the smith who forges the blade, the builder who raises walls against the tide—every hand, every heart, every role matters in this endless war."
His gaze swept across the room, and I felt it like sunlight breaking through clouds.
"Today, you will awaken the talents sleeping within you. Some will discover gifts of combat—abilities to fight and protect. Others will find strength in utility—talents of support, craft, and perception." He gestured to the stones in our hands. "Your talent does not measure your worth. It reveals the path you will walk. What matters is what you choose to build with that gift, what you are willing to sacrifice, and who you become in the struggle."
I felt my chest tighten with hope.
The elder's expression grew more serious.
"Know this: talents are divided into tiers—Green, Blue, Purple, Red, Silver, and Gold. They are divided into types—Physical, Magical, Mental. They are divided into classes—Combat and Utility." He raised a hand. "But these are merely words. Labels. What defines a hunter is not the tier of their talent, but the strength of their resolve."
He looked at each of us in turn.
"Use your gifts with humility. Protect those who cannot protect themselves. Honor the legacy of those who came before." His voice softened. "And remember—you do not walk this path alone. We rise together, or we fall together."
He spread his hands.
"Now. Command the stone. Awaken your talent. And take your first step into the world you will help defend."
I glanced at my sister one last time. She nodded.
I gripped my stone tightly and closed my eyes.
Please. Anything. Just let me be useful. Let me protect people. Let me make my sister proud.
One by one, glowing blue windows appeared, revealing each person's talent.
Some cheered. Others groaned. Not everyone got what they'd hoped for.
Parents lifted their children in joy, laughter echoing through the hall. Others stood frozen, their faces shadowed with disappointment—low-tier talents meant a harder life.
Around me, light bloomed like flowers opening to the sun.
"Come on," I whispered. "Come on, come on, come on..."
The celebrations around me grew louder. More lights. More cheers.
Minutes passed.
When all the kids had awakened, one kid was still standing there, clutching his stone, waiting for something—anything—to happen.
That kid was me.
The cheering died down. Parents began noticing. Whispers started.
My hands trembled. The stone felt cold now, lifeless.
I pressed it again. And again. Until my fingers ached. Until my knuckles turned white.
My chest felt tight. I couldn't breathe properly.
Why isn't it working?
Everyone else's worked. Even the girl who was crying got hers.
Why not me?
Tears blurred my vision.
I looked at my sister—she stood frozen, her face pale, eyes wide with disbelief.
For the first time in my life, I saw her completely at a loss.
That scared me more than anything.
"No." I forced the words through trembling lips. My voice sounded small, desperate. "I must not be trying hard enough."
I pressed the stone again, pouring every ounce of hope I had left into it.
Please. Please work. Please.
Nothing.
The silence around me was deafening now.
Everyone was watching.
Everyone knew.
The elder walked over slowly and gently patted my head.
"Now, now, don't cry. This stone must be faulty. Yes, that must be it."
He clapped his hands, and a servant quickly brought another.
"Here, child. Try again—with confidence." His voice was softer than before, almost pitying.
Hope flickered in my chest like a dying ember.
This one. This one will work.
I clutched it with shaking hands.
Closed my eyes.
Concentrated harder than I ever had in my life.
Please. Please. Please.
The stone remained cold in my palm.
Silent.
Dark.
Dead.
I opened my eyes and stared at it.
Still nothing.
The ember died.
The elder's shoulders slumped. His voice dropped to barely above a whisper.
"I'm sorry, child... but it seems you have not been blessed."
The words hit me like a physical blow.
My knees gave way. I hit the cold floor with a dull thud.
The stone rolled from my hand, coming to rest a few feet away.
Untalented.
The word echoed in my head, louder than any sound in the hall.
There was a sudden burst of whispering. People threw glances at me, passing comments I could hear all too clearly.
"A talentless kid... isn't that too rare? The last one was centuries ago."
"Mia's brother? Untalented? This must be a joke."
"God, don't look at him. He'll never be a Hunter."
Each word was a knife.
My sister threw a threatening glance at everyone, and they fell silent.
She rushed forward, wrapping her arms around me. Her voice trembled.
"Don't worry, Luke... you have me." She was crying.
I couldn't move. Couldn't speak.
The chamber that had been filled with cheers and celebration moments ago now felt like a tomb.
And in that moment, I understood.
The elder had just told us everyone mattered. That every role was vital. That worth wasn't measured by talent.
But the whispers around me said something different.
Talentless. Worthless. Cursed.
My dream was over before it had even begun.
We left through a side exit.
I didn't remember standing. Didn't remember my sister guiding me out.
The hallway was empty—they'd cleared it for us. A small mercy, I suppose. The Spear of the North's brother didn't need an audience for his humiliation.
But I could still hear them. The whispers that followed us like ghosts.
Talentless.
Worthless.
Cursed.
My sister's hand gripped mine tightly. Too tightly. Like she was afraid I'd disappear if she let go.
"Luke," she said quietly. "Look at me."
I couldn't.
"Luke."
I finally raised my eyes to meet hers. She'd stopped crying, but her eyes were red, wet.
"Nothing changes," she said firmly. "You're still my brother. You're still Luke. And you're still going to be someone great. I don't care what some stone says."
I wanted to believe her.
I wanted to believe that it didn't matter.
But as we stepped out into the afternoon sun, I felt the weight of reality settling over me like a burial shroud.
In a world where power meant everything, I had none.
In a world at war with monsters, I was defenseless.
In a world of Hunters and heroes, I was nothing.
The walk home was the longest of my life.