The Sovereign Of Black Light
On Earth-10, a world ten times larger than our own, survival is no longer guaranteed. Monsters pour from portals known as Dungeons, each one a domain of gods, horrors, and impossible power. Humanity’s only hope lies in the Awakened — chosen individuals who gain blessings and classes from the divine. Warriors, Mages, Priests, Assassins… all destined to grow, evolve, and one day become legends.
But Ashura Bellet was not chosen.
While his peers gained power and glory, Ashura was left with nothing — no blessing, no class, no future. Mocked by healers, nearly killed by a slime, burdened with his mother’s illness and the weight of supporting his younger sister, he lived as a mercenary scraping coin and bleeding in every raid. Weak, timid, and hesitant… until the day everything changed.
A raid gone wrong.
A dungeon no one had ever seen before.
A place where purple lightning fell endlessly from the heavens, erasing even the strongest Awakened in an instant.
Ashura should have died with the rest.
Instead, the lightning struck him again and again — burning his body, breaking his mind — until it carved something new into his very soul. He awakened not to a blessing, but to something outside the system. An Unknown Class, forged by the storm itself.
When Ashura emerged from the dungeon, he was no longer the timid mercenary everyone mocked. His hair turned white, his eyes burned with arrogance, and his body radiated the storm’s power. With a black blade in one hand and purple lightning crackling in the other, he had only one rule now:
“I don’t underestimate. I don’t forgive. And I don’t stop.”
Enemies see him as a monster. Allies see him as a madman who poses with no one watching, flexing his aura as though mocking the world itself. But behind the arrogance lies a ruthless killer, a cunning survivor, and a power that should never have existed.
Because Ashura’s lightning isn’t from any god.
It belongs to something older.
Something forgotten.
Something that wants him to burn the world.
