Chapter 1: Birth of the Unfortunate Child
Ivory Island.
It was a small island continent called Eclipse World. Yet, even this "small" island held countless secrets and mysteries in every corner.
Despite its name, Ivory Island spanned approximately 69,000 km in length and over 51,000 km in width. Within its borders existed Four Great Empires, twenty-two smaller kingdoms, and numerous independent dukedoms, all contributing to a population of around six billion.
Surprisingly, humans occupied only 20% of Ivory Island. The rest of the land teemed with monsters, beasts, and mysterious creatures known as Magical Beasts.
Until a millennium ago, these monsters regularly invaded human territories, bringing chaos and destruction. Although 'Walkers' stood as defenders, their efforts often fell short. It wasn't until the arrival of 'Wizards' from the mainland continent that things began to change. With them came advancements in magic and technology, ushering in a new era across Ivory Island.
This period became known as the Rune Era.
Innovations such as the Rune Engine, AetherGlyphs, and the harnessing of magical energy revolutionized communication and transportation. Scientific inventions fused with arcane knowledge to reshape daily life—railways powered by magic, floating airships, and magical communication networks became the norm.
The Rune Era also brought social and cultural shifts: the rise of the middle class, evolving gender roles, and a growing emphasis on moral values and etiquette. Academic disciplines such as Wizardry, Alchemy, and Rune Studies flourished. Medicine advanced. A new dawn of enlightenment rose from the merging of magic and science.
Unlike before, kingdoms and empires now relied more on artifacts and technology than brute force. Their elite forces—well-armed Walkers—defended the people like legendary heroes. And these Walkers weren't simple knights. They were individuals powerful enough to face hundreds of soldiers alone. Among them, some legends even rivaled mythical Magical Beasts.
Ivory Island was a place of wonders and danger alike.
And at this very moment… a child was born—one whose existence would soon stir the tides of fate.
…
Zenith Empire — Red Ember City — Royal Palace
Rune Era Year 1405, August 18th, around 5 P.M.
A young girl stood outside a wooden door, trembling with each scream and moan that echoed from within. She was between 12 and 15 years of age, with olive-toned skin, reddish-orange eyes, and flowing black hair. Her ears were slightly elongated, and she had a soft, rounded face. Dressed in a purplish-blue gown adorned with white embroidery, she was the 35th Princess of the Zenith Empire.
Yet, her royal title held little weight.
Beyond the ornate bracelet on her right wrist and the golden necklace bearing an Alexandrite gem—a gift from the Duke of Crimson Fort—she possessed little of a princess's luxury. That necklace commemorated her achievement as the youngest to reach Apprentice Knight at the age of eight, earning her the title: The Sword Princess.
"Mom! Please don't cry!" she whispered, brushing away her tears. She raised her hand to bang on the door when a firm hand caught her wrist.
"Athena, you can't disturb the healers and midwives during delivery. Let them do their job."
The voice was cold… yet somehow gentle. It gave her a strange sense of relief.
Realizing who it was, Athena turned, knelt, and bowed her head.
"Greetings, Your Majesty!"
"This isn't the Throne Room, little one. Call me 'Father,'" the voice said calmly.
Athena slowly looked up at the man before her—an imposing figure around forty, with golden hair, olive skin, and piercing red eyes. His regal robe shimmered gold over a white shirt, and at his waist hung a long sword—a symbol of his unmatched martial prowess.
He was Ian Sillalus Jorvot, the 15th Emperor of the Zenith Empire.
Though he was her father by blood, Athena knew this was only their second conversation. The first had been when she became an Apprentice Knight. At banquets, she'd seen him from afar—like watching a star from the ground.
She understood the real reason for his arrival.
He came to check the affinities of the newborn child.
It stung. If her mother had been a queen—or even one of the first few concubines—perhaps they would have earned more respect in the noble circle.
But her mother was only the 24th concubine. And currently… the last.
Despite being treated like a noble lady, her mother's position was little more than that of a glorified headmaid.
The palace was overflowing with Ian's children and grandchildren. At this moment, the Emperor had 65 children.
If this child was born safely, he would become the 66th.
"Arrghh! It hurts!" Her mother's scream hit a new pitch, followed by the unmistakable cry of a newborn.
Before she realized it, Athena had already turned to the door, eyes filled with worry.
After a long minute of tense silence—broken only by the infant's cries—a woman of about 35 stepped out. Her blonde hair was neatly tucked beneath a white cap, and her blue eyes held years of experience. Her stern features—hawk-like nose and slender brow.
She wore a gray robe over a crisp white blouse. A corset and bodice accentuated her figure, topped with a functional apron.
"Aunt Shirley!" Athena ran to the woman, grabbing her hand in anxiety.
Shirley gently patted her head before noticing the man standing nearby.
"Your Majesty. Please, come in," she said with a respectful bow.
"How is the child?" Ian asked as he stepped into the room.
The chamber was richly decorated—velvet curtains, golden lamps, hand-carved furniture, a grand four-poster bed draped in lace. The family crest—a coiling winged serpent—was embroidered on the linens. Crystal vials, enchanted candelabras, and gleaming mirrors added an air of elegance and magic.
Athena followed him in, but the metallic scent of blood quickly filled her nose.
Her eyes widened at the sight of the unconscious woman on the bed.
It was her mother—Jeanne—a black-haired woman who appeared barely twenty-five, her legs stained with blood and amniotic fluid.
"MAMA!!" Athena cried out and rushed to her side.
"Don't panic, child," Shirley reassured her gently. "She only lost consciousness from blood loss."
Shirley turned to the other side of the bed and carefully picked up the swaddled infant, then approached the Emperor.
"Please, Your Majesty… give him a name."
Ian gave the child a deep look and then towards Jeanne. But there was no trace of worry or even care. His gaze was filled with coldness and calmness.
Meanwhile, Athena wiped her tears and turned to look. The baby had soft, pinkish skin. So small. So fragile.
"Is he my younger brother?" she asked, a voice full of wonder.
Ian took the infant into his arms. He looked into the child's eyes—and paused.
Black as polished marbles. Depthless. Unreadable.
He drew a deep breath, muttering.
"Even his eyes… they look like black marbles."
Then, in a voice like rolling thunder, he proclaimed.
"I hereby name him Raven Sillalus Jorvot, the 66th prince of the Zenith Empire!"