ã€ŠChronicles of the Shadow Sovereignã€‹


 Awakening

    World Senthora ¨C Southern Continent

    The sun dipped below the horizon, its faint light suffocated by a sky filled with dark, swirling clouds.

    Thunderstorms raged like a hungry beast, determined to snuff out every last ray of light.

    Beneath this ominous sky lay a vast, gruesome battlefield.

    The ground was littered with the lifeless bodies of a massive army, their bodies broken and battered. The air reeked of rotting flesh and fresh blood.

    Shattered weapons and the carcasses of ferocious beasts lay scattered across the field.

    Not a single soldier had survived. Heavy rain began to fall, washing over the lifeless bodies.

    These soldiers hadn''t fought for power, freedom, or wealth.

    They had fought for their leader, with unwavering determination. But their will and courage would soon be absorbed by the unforgiving earth.

    Above the battlefield, figures in black uniforms hovered in the air, their faces stark against the stormy sky.

    A middle-aged man stood at their forefront, his eyes filled with a haunting mix of wisdom and loneliness.

    His presence commanded authority, and the unity of the group suggested they belonged to a mysterious organization. Their faces bore expressions of disgust and hatred, directed at someone unseen.

    "Shadow Sovereign, hand over your life! You are a black worm unworthy of the name ''Sovereign,''" one of the men shouted, his voice cutting through the rain.

    "You disgrace the title and slaughter your own people without hesitation. You are the most despicable man in the world.

    "Heaven rewarded you with power, and you used it to manipulate and destroy your own kind."

    The men in black took turns hurling accusations, their voices resounding across the battlefield.

    Yet, their leader remained silent, his face an unreadable mask. It was impossible to discern his thoughts, but one thing was clear: everything was under his control.

    In the distance, beneath a solitary tree, a man sat slumped against the trunk.

    His body was a patchwork of wounds, not a single inch of skin left unmarred.

    His face was so badly injured that his expressions were indecipherable, but his eyes told a story of deep, unshakable regret, a regret that no sacrifice, determination, perseverance, or conviction could ever resolve.

    "Will I have to go back in time again?" Levi sighed inwardly, too exhausted to even recall how many times he had relived this moment.

    Levi, the so-called Shadow Sovereign, had manipulated people for his own selfish desires, all in pursuit of greater power.

    He is now thousands of years of old, he lived hundreds of lifes, in each life at a particular time, he always hunted by same person, no matter how meticulously he prepared, no matter the armies he commanded, his opponent''s strength always seemed to surpass his own.

    It was as if he were trapped in a script written by someone else .

    He began to unravel the meaning of life.

    Who claimed we''re born merely to exist?

    You enter this world, and your first act is to drink, not for pleasure, but survival.

    You sleep to endure, digest to sustain, fighting decay at every turn. Grow you must: from infant to child, grasping alphabets like lifelines, all to navigate a world you never chose.

    Friendships form not for joy, but to armor yourself against a callous society.

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    Half a lifetime spent dissecting the universe, only to trade that knowledge for scraps to quiet your hunger. Every breath, every choice¡ªa battle against the death just to stay alive.

    "If life is a gift, why does these sufferings seep into my veins like poison?"

    This was the first question he dared to ask after his rebirth.

    And so the wheel turned. Life after life, he sought answers etched in pain, carved by illness, baptized in loss.

    He scarcely noticed the hunters who stalked him through each incarnation their blades, their bile, their fear of what he might become.

    There was only the question, burning through eras:

    "Who am I?"

    "Do I even exist?"

    Each time he traveled back, he grew more aware that this was not reality but a dream¡ªa dream so vivid that all five of his senses were fully engaged, yet his spirit senses whispered warnings that none of it was real.

    Without those warnings, he would have lost himself long ago.

    Now, he no longer wanted to play this game of uncertainty.

    He wanted to wake up. He wanted to return to the hands that had fed him, protected him, and cared for him when he was nothing, the hands of his mother.

    "Whoosh!"

    Suddenly, a furious streak of light tore through the air, aiming to obliterate him. Levi barely managed to dodge, but the light grazed his arm, exacerbating his already grievous wounds.

    If not for the strength of a Sovereign, he would have died a thousand times over.

    "So, you''re here, not hiding in the shadows anymore... Shadow Sovereign," a voice shouted angrily from above. The men in black hovered in the air, their leader clad in red and white robes.

    His demeanor was calm, his eyes filled with wisdom, but he avoided looking directly at Levi, instead gazing thoughtfully at the sea of corpses below.

    "Oh, crap... I have no energy left to protect myself," Levi muttered to himself, ignoring the taunts. He had grown numb to their provocations long ago.

    He knew this was not reality but a time loop, repeating endlessly for hundreds of years.

    The man in black grew angrier at Levi''s silence and conjured another streak of light, hurling it toward him.

    "No, Levi!" A figure suddenly appeared, shielding him from the attack. It was a woman with white hair, now stained red with her own blood.

    "Not this time again," Levi thought, his heart filled with determination. He pulled the woman into his embrace, taking the full force of the attack on his back.

    The impact tore open his wounds, exposing his ribs and spinal cord.

    His remaining energy drained away, and he collapsed, cradling the woman in his arms.

    All the blood he had been holding back burst forth, and his vision began to fade. For the first time in all his lives, he felt a strange satisfaction¡ªhe had protected someone.

    This woman, his wife, whom he had married for power and wealth, had become the one he shielded in his final moments.

    "Strange..." The leader of the group of black-clad men, who had been expressionless until now, suddenly showed a flicker of interest in his eyes as he watched the Shadow Monarch''s unexpected move of protecting someone.

    "How could this be? Did I misjudge his character?"

    "No," he muttered, shaking his head as his gaze fell upon the body of the woman the Shadow Sovereign had shielded moments earlier.

    "Even with all the magic in the world, you can''t rewrite what people are. Human nature doesn''t change, it just wears different masks."

    Suddenly, the raindrops froze in midair, and the men in black were suspended, as if time itself had stopped.

    A shadowy figure materialized before Levi, cloaked in a deathly aura.

    His face was obscured by a black robe, but Levi recognized him instantly¡ªhe was the one who had trapped him in this endless dream.

    All of Levi''s wounds healed in an instant, and his energy was restored. "You... you are the one," Levi said, his voice trembling with a mix of anger and resignation.

    The figure smiled faintly. "What should I call you? Levi or Shadow Sovereign?"

    Levi ignored the question. "I want to go back to the real world," he demanded.

    The figure''s voice resonated with the whispers of nature as he repeated the same question he had asked at the beginning of their journey: "What do you want in life?"

    Levi''s heart raced. He remembered this question all too well, it was the same one that had brought him to this nightmare.

    Back then, he had naively answered, "Eternal life," and had been thrown into this endless cycle of suffering.

    Now, after countless lives filled with pain, loss, and regret, he knew better.

    Sweat dripped down his face as he weighed his answer. He was no longer the innocent child who sought power and wealth.

    He had seen the destruction of this world, the suffering of its people, and the futility of his own ambitions.

    "I want the opportunity to protect the people around me," Levi finally answered, his voice steady and resolute.

    "You understand the meaning behind life¡­ very well," said the man in black cloth, his gaze meeting Levi''s.

    "I shall awaken you from the dream realm, and the fate you''ve known, the fate of all those around you, will undergo a profound transformation the moment you take your first step."

    "Humans have been manipulated to the very core of their being, their hearts shrouded in darkness. It is time to shatter the shackles of their predetermined destinies. Go, Shadow Sovereign, and free them from the fate that has been forced upon them."

    Levi listened carefully, for he knew this was his final chance after countless lifetimes. The man before him was capable of uncountable supernatural feats.

    "Will we meet again in the future?" Levi hesitated before asking, "In the real world?"

    "Each step you take, a path to me,

    Yet you ask as if we''ve yet to be.

    The distance fades, the echoes clear,

    Our meeting feels both far and near."

    Levi''s vision began to blur, his senses numbing as if shut down by an unseen force. The world around him melted away, leaving only the echoes of a haunting phrase reverberating through his mind.

 A Brother, Not a Servant

    "Young master¡­ Young master¡­ What happened? Open your eyes!" A voice echoed in Levi''s ears.

    When he opened his eyes,he was met with the concerned face of a teenager with a rounded face and a wispy hint of baby fat.

    His eyes, filled with worry, locked onto Levi''s face.

    "Anderson.."

    "What happened, Anderson?" Levi asked, rubbing his eyes.

    He looked around. It was a finely crafted wooden carriage, clearly belonging to a noble family, large enough to comfortably seat four people.

    Horses pulled the carriage, and a servant in front.

    "Oh, I remember now¡­ it all started here, where the man in black first appeared."

    "Anderson, what''s the date?" Levi asked, looking up at the boy.

    The boy, named Anderson, smiled wisely, but it seemed he''d forgotten Levi''s question. "Oh, Young Master Levi, you still remember this servant''s name?" he said with a grin.

    Levi''s eyes narrowed, a mix of memories from the dream realm flooding back. "Remember? Why wouldn''t I? You''re my most loyal servant¡ªno, my little brother in the dream realm."

    He pushed aside the sentimental thoughts. "But that''s not important now."

    "Yes, I remember. Now tell me, what''s the date and where are we going?"

    Anderson, sensing a change in Levi''s demeanor, answered without question. "Year 2812 CE(Common Era), July 21st. We are heading to the Dream Realm for the Trial of Becoming the Honorable Echoes."

    Levi let out a deep sigh of relief. "I really made it back to the real world."

    Levi''s voice carried a hint of worry as he asked, "How long was I unconscious?"

    Anderson gave a reassuring smile. "Just a few moments."

    Levi''s gaze fell on his own body, now lean and pale in comparison to Anderson''s youthful energy. "Ah, so it was all a dream¡­ Hundreds of lives in a single instant¡­". Memories from the Dream Realm surged back, especially thoughts of his wife.

    "If I hadn''t saved her in my last life¡­ if I had kept manipulating others for my own gain, I would have been trapped there for millions of lifetimes." The very thought sent a shiver down his spine, his expression darkening with regret.

    Anderson noticed the sudden change in his young master''s mood and grew concerned. "Young Master, what troubles you? Apologies for speaking out of turn, but you don''t seem quite yourself."

    He lowered his gaze, bracing for the usual outburst. Levi had always been stubborn, quick to anger when questioned. But seconds passed, and nothing came.

    When Levi finally looked at him, Anderson was taken aback by the smile on his face. "Since when devil smile?" he thought, his mind racing with surprise.

    Levi''s gaze snapped back to Anderson, and he saw the genuine concern etched on his face. Something shifted inside Levi; he realized that Anderson was more than just a loyal servant ¨C he was a friend, a brother.

    "You don''t have to call me ''Young Master'' anymore," Levi said, his voice calm yet resolute.

    Anderson''s heart dropped, fearing the worst. "Young Master, I''m sorry! I was wrong! I stepped out of line! Please forgive me, I was only worried about you!"

    Levi''s smile widened as he shook his head. "What are you talking about? You don''t have to apologize. From now on, just call me ''Brother Levi.''"

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    "We''re brothers, not master and servant."

    Anderson''s eyes widened, and he looked like he had been punched in the gut. "Y-yes, Young master...Levi. I mean, I''ll try."

    Anderson blinked in confusion, then sighed in relief. "So, it''s confirmed. Something''s definitely off with Young Master."

    Levi''s thoughts turned inward, reflecting on his past lives."Anderson... A brilliant mind, a good seedling with boundless potential. And I, the greatest obstacle to his growth, reduced him into a mere puppet. Even though the Southern Continent is filled with future experts due to its competitive environment, I can''t afford to make the same mistakes again in this new life.

    The afternoon sun cast a golden hue over the forest clearing, where carriages of various designs and sizes were scattered amidst the trees.

    The air was filled with the murmurs of students and the occasional neigh of horses. A harsh voice echoed through the area, commanding attention.

    "We will rest here. Food will be distributed after half an hour. All students should gather in one place. If anyone comes late, there will be no food," the voice declared, its tone leaving no room for argument.

    Levi, hearing the announcement, stepped out of his carriage. Around him, other nobles were also emerging from their vehicles, their fine garments and dignified postures setting them apart from the common students who either rode horses or traveled in public carriages.

    The carriages were arranged in lines according to status, with the noble carriages at the front. Levi''s carriage was among them, positioned prominently.

    As Levi surveyed the scene, his eyes fell on a particularly opulent carriage to his right.

    It was adorned with gold and silver threads intricately woven into its surface, a testament to the wealth and status of its owner.

    The servant driving the carriage was dressed in clothes of such high quality that they rivaled Levi''s own attire.

    A young boy, roughly Levi''s age, stepped out of the carriage.

    He had blonde hair, sky-blue eyes, and a pair of glasses that added to his refined appearance.

    His gaze met Levi''s, and he gave a slight nod, a gesture of acknowledgment. Levi returned the nod, accepting the goodwill.

    "You are all free to attend to your personal needs in the forest. There is no danger within a 50-square-kilometer radius, but do not venture beyond this boundary," a voice called out from the front, where the trainers and teachers stood.

    These mentors had traveled from various cities to guide their students through the Dream Realm Trial, a pivotal moment in their journey to becoming Echoes.

    The students responded in unison, their voices blending into a single, resounding "Yes!"

    Levi noticed Anderson, his loyal companion, disappear momentarily before reappearing. Before he could ponder this, a soft voice called out from behind him.

    "Levi."

    He turned to see his older brother, a man of about twenty-five, dressed in a merchant''s attire, a large rectangular cloak draped over his shoulders and a tunic made of linen or wool, belted at the waist for comfort. His face was etched with concern.

    "Big Brother," Levi greeted, noting the worry in his brother''s eyes.

    "Did something happen to you, Levi? In the carriage, you lost consciousness," his brother asked, his voice tinged with anxiety.

    "No, nothing serious. I just felt a bit suffocated due to the heat," Levi replied, forcing a smile to reassure his brother. He clenched his teeth slightly, masking his discomfort as he looked at Anderson, who stood nearby with an innocent expression.

    "Oh, thank goodness. The temperature has been unusually high this mid-July. Make sure to drink more water," his brother advised, his tone softening. "And don''t leave the carriage unless it''s necessary." With that, he turned and walked toward the trainers'' camp, leaving Levi to his thoughts.

    Levi, with Anderson trailing behind him like a shadow, began to walk toward a cluster of thick trees.

    After some time, they reached a serene valley. Levi stepped into the shallow water at the edge of a lake, its surface so clear that it perfectly reflected his image.

    He gazed at his reflection, a young man with pale skin, emerald-green eyes set in an oval face, framed by fine, silky brown hair that fell just over his ears and was tied back.

    "Anderson," Levi said, breaking the silence, "Go and find out how many youngsters are participating in the Dream Realm Trial this time.

    "Gather their names, along with their family and city of origin."

    "Seek my brother''s help if needed. As a merchant, he should have no trouble obtaining such information."

    "I know all of them, but I can''t come to the same conclusions as I did in my previous lives within the Dream Realm."

    "Yes, Young.."Anderson replied, hesitating for a moment before adding, "Yes, brother levi."

    Levi smiled faintly at the title, then turned his attention back to his reflection in the water.

    The stillness of the lake was mesmerizing, but it also stirred something deep within him.

    "Who are you?" Levi whispered to his reflection, his voice barely audible. "Are you the one who manipulates others for personal gain, or are you the one who protects someone?"

    The reflection offered no answers, only the gentle ripples of the water distorting the image before settling back into clarity.

    Levi stood there, lost in thought, as the waves continued to pass over his reflection in silence.

    He gazed at his reflection, and for the first time in all his lives, he felt a sense of disconnection.

    The face staring back was just a vessel, a fragile container of flesh and blood.

    And he himself was something more, something that transcended the material world.

    The questions lingered in his mind, unanswered, as he prepared himself for the challenges that lay ahead in the Dream Realm Trial.

 Whispers of the Dream Realm

    The Dream Realm''s origins on Senthora World are shrouded in mystery and subject to much debate among scholars and mystics.

    Some believe it first manifested when humans began to form their earliest civilizations, emerging as a reflection of their collective consciousness and shared dreams.

    Others argue that it has existed since the dawn of Senthora itself, an eternal and intrinsic part of the world''s fabric, intertwined with the very essence of life.

    A third perspective suggests that the Dream Realm came into being with the birth of the first human, as if it were a gift or a curse bestowed upon humanity, a parallel dimension born from their innate ability to dream and imagine.

    Regardless of its true origin, the Dream Realm has become an integral part of Senthora''s lore, a place where reality bends and the boundaries of the mind are limitless.

    The Dream Realm is a world unto itself, a mysterious and enigmatic dimension that exists parallel to Senthora World.

    It operates under its own laws and rules, defying the logic of the physical realm. Each continent on Senthora such as the Southern Continent has its own corresponding Dream Realm, a mirrored reflection that is both familiar and alien.

    Time flows differently there; ages and events progress at a slower, almost dreamlike pace compared to the real world. The passage of years feels like mere months, making it a place where moments stretch into eternities and lifetimes pass like fleeting dreams.

    What truly exists within the Dream Realm is a subject of endless fascination and speculation.

    During the Celestial Era, the first legendary human recorded in history ventured into the Dream Realm and emerged alive after a year.

    He described : "To grasp the terrain of the Dream Realm was like trying to hold water in clenched fists, ever-changing, ever-elusive."His words hinted at a landscape that defied comprehension, shifting and reshaping itself at will.

    In the Domination Era, another human, separated from their group, became lost in the Dream Realm and returned after three years. His account was equally cryptic: "The land was a paradox, where mountains flowed like rivers and skies stretched into endless abysses." This description painted a picture of a world where the natural order was inverted, and the very fabric of reality seemed to unravel.

    In the present Common Era, the Dream Realm has become a topic of public fascination, with a phrase often repeated in hushed tones: "In the Dream Realm, reality is a suggestion, not a rule."This saying captures the essence of a place where the impossible becomes possible, where the boundaries of imagination are limitless, and where the very concept of reality is fluid and malleable.

    The Dream Realm remains a source of wonder, fear, and endless exploration for those brave or foolish enough to step into its ever-shifting embrace.

    The scene unfolded in a sprawling encampment on the western edge of the forest. Teachers had established their camps, their tents dotting the landscape like patches of color against the earthy tones of the wilderness.

    Horses were tethered nearby, some grazing lazily on the lush grasses while others rested, their heads bowed in quiet repose.

    Amid the sea of tents, one stood out, a luxurious, eye-catching pavilion that exuded wealth and power.

    Inside, a young man sat with an air of quiet authority. He was dressed in finely tailored clothes, his blonde hair catching the light as it framed his sharp features.

    A pair of glasses rested on the bridge of his nose, giving him an intellectual, almost calculating appearance.

    From the shadows behind him, a servant emerged, his movements silent and deliberate.

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    He bowed slightly before speaking in a low, respectful tone. "We''ve located Levi''s whereabouts, young master. After his interaction with you, he headed to the nearby lake with his servant."

    The young boy adjusted his glasses, his smile widening just a fraction.

    "Did you want us to continue following him?" the servant inquired, his voice steady but deferential.

    The young boy rose to his feet, his movements smooth and deliberate. "No need," he replied, his voice calm and measured. "Just lead me there." The smile on his face deepened, carrying a hint of intrigue and anticipation as he prepared to step out of the luxurious tent.

    Levi sat on a boulder by the lakeshore, gazing at the serene waters that stretched out before him.

    The peaceful nature of the lake was a balm to his soul, but the tranquility was short-lived.

    Gradually, the quiet was replaced by the chatter and laughter of hundreds of students who had begun to gather around.

    This lakeside spot was the only picturesque location in the area, and its beauty made it an easy meeting point for everyone.

    As the crowd grew, a lively argument broke out between two boys of the same age, their voices carrying over the murmurs of the gathering.

    "What a lovely sight," one boy said, his eyes fixed on the lake. "When I will become an Echo, I''ll earn lots of money, hunt treasures, and buy this lake for myself."

    The other boy scoffed, crossing his arms. "What a shame. Echoes are supposed to protect people, not work for money. You''ve got it all wrong."

    The first boy rolled his eyes. "Huh, how can a village bumpkin like you understand? Everything in the world revolves around money¡ªeven the so-called ''honorable'' Echoes."

    "Who are you calling a village bumpkin?" the second boy shot back, his voice rising. "And don''t you dare disrespect the esteemed Echoes!"

    "Obviously, I''m talking to you," the first boy retorted, smirking. "Is there anyone else here arguing with me?"

    Their heated exchange quickly drew the attention of the surrounding students. Some laughed, others whispered, and a few even cheered them on, adding to the lively atmosphere.

    The tension between the two boys was palpable, but their argument seemed to lighten the mood for many of the younger students.

    For those who had been nervous about the upcoming trials to become Echoes and the dangers they would face in the Dream Realm the playful bickering was a welcome distraction.

    The worries that had weighed heavily on their minds seemed to fade, if only for a moment, as they watched the two boys go back and forth.

    Levi, noticing the shift in the students'' expressions, mused to himself, "Most humans fear the dream realm just as they fear snakes or any dangerous beast. It''s instinctive, their minds scream at them to either flee or fight. When faced with such fear, their brains shut down, and their potential crumbles to nothing."

    A faint smile crept across his face as he continued, "But not me. The dream realm isn''t a place of terror for me, it''s home." His grin widened, a glint of confidence shining in his eyes.

    Levi sat quietly on the boulder, his gaze fixed again on the shimmering lake, when a familiar voice interrupted his thoughts.

    "What did Brother Levi think an honorable Echo should do?" the voice asked, coming from one side.

    Levi turned and saw a young man dressed in luxurious clothes, Dorian, the noble he had interacted with earlier after leaving his carriage. "Oh, Brother Dorian," Levi greeted with a warm smile.

    "I feel I must apologize for speaking out without an invitation," Dorian said, placing one hand on his chest and giving a slight bow, a gesture of respect commonly used among the noble unions.

    Levi chuckled softly and stood up from the boulder. "If we needed invitations to talk to one another, on what basis could we call ourselves friends?" he replied, his tone light and friendly.

    Dorian laughed heartily, his glasses slipping slightly from the force of his outburst. "Hahaha, well said, Brother Levi!" he said, adjusting his spectacles.

    Levi''s expression grew thoughtful as he turned to answer Dorian''s earlier question. "An honorable Echo," he began, "is one who remains true to his nature."

    Dorian tilted his head, repeating the latter half of Levi''s words. "true to his nature..." He paused, then gestured toward the two boys who were still arguing in the distance. "Then, does that mean both of them are right in their own ways?"

    Levi shook his head. "No, they are both right and wrong at the same time," he replied cryptically. Seeing the curiosity in Dorian''s eyes, Levi added, "You will understand in the future, when you become an Echo yourself."

    Dorian raised an eyebrow, intrigued by Levi''s words but not pressing further. Instead, he turned his attention back to the lively scene around them.

    The two arguing boys had now drawn a small crowd, their banter providing entertainment for the onlookers.

    The younger students, who had been tense about the upcoming trials, seemed to have forgotten their worries, laughing and cheering as the argument grew more animated.

    Levi watched the scene with a faint smile. The lake, the laughter, and the camaraderie among the students created a sense of unity that was rare and precious.

    For now, the weight of their future responsibilities as Echoes could wait. This moment was about connection, joy, and the simple beauty of being alive.

    Dorian, standing beside Levi, seemed to share the sentiment. "It''s moments like these that remind us why we strive to protect this world," he said softly, his gaze fixed on the lake.

    Levi nodded, his eyes reflecting the calm waters. "Indeed, Brother Dorian. Indeed."

 The Choice That Defines Us

    Dorian shifted the conversation to a more personal matter. "If I don''t show a Order 4 or 5 Echo talent in dream realm, I don''t know what my brothers will do with me," he said, his voice tinged with worry.

    "They''ve already started handling the major responsibilities Father left, Big brother in land ownerships and second brother in trade and commerce leaving me with no opportunity to prove myself," Dorian continued, his tone heavy with frustration.

    Dorian belonged to an immensely wealthy and influential family, a status that often left him with few genuine friends.

    Levi was one of the rare ones he could trust, someone with whom he could share his personal worries and frustrations.

    Wealth, while a privilege, carried its own burdens, it had the power to strain relationships within families, breeding greed and mistrust if not handled with care.

    Dorian knew all too well how easily the pursuit of fortune could fracture even the closest bonds.

    Levi listened quietly, his gaze steady and calm. When Dorian finished, Levi spoke in a reassuring voice, "Don''t stress yourself over it, Dorian."

    "The walls of Zul''vharra City can''t bound your future, just as they couldn''t bound your father''s or your brothers''. Forget about them for now. Your path is your own."

    Dorian let out a short, humorless laugh, adjusting his glasses as he turned to face Levi. "You say that so easily because you''re sure you''ll awaken at least a Order 3 or Order 2 talent. It''s in your blood, after all.

    "That''s why you''re so calm, chilling here without a care in the world," he said, his tone a mix of envy and resignation.

    Levi''s expression softened, and he shook his head gently. "It''s not about the level of talent, Dorian. It''s about what you do with it. Even if you awaken order 1 talent, it doesn''t define your worth or your potential.

    "The Echo isn''t just about power, it''s about how you use it to protect, to inspire, and to grow."

    Dorian fell silent for a moment, his gaze drifting back to the lake. The water shimmered under the sunlight, its surface reflecting the vast sky above.

    Levi''s words seemed to hang in the air, offering a sense of comfort, even if Dorian wasn''t ready to fully accept them.

    Around them, the lively atmosphere continued. The two boys who had been arguing earlier were now surrounded by a group of students, their debate having turned into a playful exchange that had everyone laughing.

    The younger students, who had been nervous about the upcoming trials, seemed to have forgotten their fears, at least for the moment.

    Dorian sighed, his shoulders relaxing slightly. "Maybe you''re right," he said quietly, though his voice still carried a hint of doubt. "But it''s hard not to feel the weight of expectations, especially when everyone around you seems to have it all figured out."

    "One day, you''ll watch the sun set for the last time, savor your favorite meal unknowingly for the final bite, and share a last conversation with someone you love. And the most terrifying part?" Levi paused, letting the words hang like a storm cloud. "You won''t know it''s the last time."

    "So why let others'' expectations weigh you down? Why let their judgments dictate your life? You weren''t born to be a footnote in someone else''s story, measured by their standards or confined by their opinions."

    He paused, his voice steady but filled with quiet intensity as he turned to his closest friend, who sat burdened by worry. "You have to ask yourself one question," he said, his words cutting through the noise of doubt and fear.

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    Dorian, who had been listening intently, leaned forward, his curiosity piqued. "What question?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

    Levi''s gaze softened, but his words carried the weight of truth. "Ask yourself: Does what I''m doing make me feel truly alive? Not just existing, not just going through the motions but alive.

    "If the answer is yes, then keep walking that path, no matter how difficult it may seem. But if the answer is no, then have the courage to change direction."

    "Life is too fleeting, too fragile, to waste on anything that doesn''t set your soul on fire."

    Dorian sat in silence, the words settling deep within him. It wasn''t about living up to the expectations of others or seeking their approval.

    It was about honoring the pulse of his own heart, the quiet voice within that whispered what truly mattered. And sometimes, that meant letting go of what no longer served him, even if it meant walking away from the familiar into the unknown.

    Levi leaned forward, his eyes locked onto Dorian''s, sensing that the iron was hot enough to strike.

    "Do you really want to solve this problem?" Levi asked, his tone uncharacteristically serious, his eyes searching Dorian''s for something deeper than surface-level understanding.

    Dorian blinked, caught off guard. This wasn''t the Levi he knew. The Levi he was closest to was the one who never seemed to care, who floated through life with a carefree shrug, untouched by the weight of the world.

    "Why not?" Dorian replied, curiosity flickering in his voice. "If you have a solution, I''d like to hear it." He studied Levi, trying to reconcile this version of his friend with the one he thought he knew so well.

    It was as if a stranger had stepped into Levi''s skin, someone who carried a wisdom, Dorian hadn''t noticed before.

    Levi leaned back, his gaze steady, almost piercing. "The problem isn''t out there," he said, his voice low but firm. "It''s in here."

    He tapped his chest, right above his heart. "You keep looking for answers outside yourself, but the truth is, you already know what you need to do. You''re just afraid to do it."

    Dorian frowned, his mind racing. "Afraid of what?"

    "Afraid of change," Levi said simply. "Afraid of letting go of what''s familiar, even if it''s holding you back. Afraid of stepping into the unknown, even if it''s where you belong."

    "You fear starting something new something you and your family have never done before. You fear walking a path that no one around you has walked, or ever will," Levi said, his voice steady but cutting through the air like a blade."You''re afraid of being the first, of standing out, of doing something that doesn''t fit into the mold everyone else has created for you."

    Dorian shifted uncomfortably, the words hitting closer to home than he wanted to admit. Levi''s tone was calm, but there was a fire behind his words, a quiet urgency that demanded attention.

    "But here''s the thing," Levi continued, his voice softening just enough to take the edge off. "The people who change the world, the ones who truly live, they''re the ones who dared to step into the unknown."

    "They''re the ones who didn''t wait for permission or approval. They just¡­ started. Even when it scared them. Even when no one else understood."

    He paused, letting the words sink in. "You can''t keep waiting for someone else to show you the way, Dorian. Sometimes, you have to be the one to light the path, not just for yourself, but for everyone who comes after you. And yeah, it''s terrifying. But isn''t that what makes it worth doing?"

    Dorian sat in silence, Levi''s words echoing in his mind. For the first time, he felt the weight of his own fears, not as chains holding him back, but as a challenge waiting to be faced.

    And for the first time, he wondered if maybe, just maybe, he was ready to take that first step.

    For the first time, he felt a shift in their dynamic. This wasn''t the carefree, indifferent Levi he had always known.

    This was someone who had been paying attention, who saw more than he let on. And for the first time, Dorian wondered if he had been underestimating his friend all along.

    "You''re different," Dorian said finally, his voice tinged with both surprise and admiration.

    Levi smirked, a hint of his old self returning. "Maybe I am. Or maybe you''re just seeing me clearly for the first time." He leaned forward, his tone lighter now but still carrying an edge of truth. "The question is, are you ready to see yourself clearly too?"

    Levi''s words lingered in the air, a reminder that life is not a rehearsal. It is a singular, irreplaceable act, a fleeting chance to live boldly, authentically, and unapologetically.

    And in the end, the only question that truly matters is the one you ask yourself:Am I alive, or am I merely existing?

    "Don''t let my words go in vain," Levi thought, his gaze fixed on Dorian, who sat in silence, lost in his own world. "Wake up, Dorian. Quickly. <i>This isn''t just about me. It''s about all of us. What I''m stepping into, it''s bigger than any one person. I don''t want a puppet following me, I need you to rise, not as a follower, but as someone who stands beside me"</i>

 A Rare Smile

    The Southern Continent stands apart from the rest of the world due to its less population, lack of centralized empires or kingdoms, and the absence of a unified legal or political system.

    This makes it a unique and often unpredictable land, where power is decentralized and survival depends on resourcefulness and adaptability.

    In the eastern region of the Southern Continent, five prominent cities are situated along the Nyxian Flow River: Ikorrah, Urun''gazi, Thalasiri, Zul''vharra, and Kalimaru.

    These cities thrive thanks to the life-giving waters of the river, which flows from the southern highlands to the northern Pontus Expanse Sea, a vast body of water separating the Southern and Central Continent.

    The Nyxian Flow River is a lifeline in southern Continent harsh environment, earning it the nickname "the pearl in the desert."The western part of the continent is dominated by an expansive desert, which covers nearly 70% of the land.

    This arid region is sparsely populated, with approximately 80% of the continent''s inhabitants living along the Nyxian Flow River. The desert is a challenging place to survive due to the scarcity of water and food, making the river''s presence even more vital.

    At the heart of the Southern Continent lies the Dream Realm, a mystical and revered place. Every three years, young students embark on a sacred journey to the Dream Realm to become "Echoes", a highly respected role that is the dream of every child born on the world of Senthora.

    The Echoes are said to possess unique abilities tied to the Dream Realm, and their journey is a rite of passage that shapes the future of the continent.

    Without a centralized ruler, the Southern Continent is governed by noble families, who wield power over their respective territories. These families are locked in a constant struggle for dominance, creating a competitive and often volatile political landscape.

    Areas not controlled by any noble family are considered No man''s land, where lawlessness and danger prevail due to high crime rates and the absence of authority.

    Despite its challenges, the Southern Continent is a land of opportunity and mystery. Its people are resilient, and its unique geography and culture make it a place where legends are born and destinies are forged.

    After his conversation with Dorian, Levi quietly took his leave. Dorian remained in contemplative silence, turning the glasses over in his hands as Levi walked away, heading towards the campsite for a meal.

    Most of the students had already begun making their way to the campsites, drawn by the promise of food and a brief respite from their rigorous routines.

    The air was filled with the hum of chatter and the clatter of utensils as the students gathered in small groups, sharing stories and laughter.

    When Levi reached the area near the campsite, a servant emerged from the shadows and approached him with a respectful bow. "Young Master," the servant said, "your meal is ready at your camp." Levi nodded in acknowledgment and followed the servant without a word.

    Unlike the majority of students, who gathered in communal spaces to eat together, those from noble families enjoyed a different privilege. They had private camps with personal chefs who prepared exquisite meals tailored to their tastes.

    These chefs were masters of their craft, creating dishes that were not only delicious but also a reflection of the family''s status and wealth.

    Levi stepped into the camp, a space that struck a balance between practicality and modest comfort neither overly dull nor excessively luxurious.

    A servant led the way, guiding him to a spread of food laid out on a beautifully woven rug.

    The meal consisted of roasted rabbit meat, freshly caught from the forest, alongside an assortment of fruits and other delicacies that enhanced the quality of the feast.

    The aroma of the roasted meat mingled with the sweetness of the fruits, creating an inviting atmosphere.

    Seated to one side was Levi''s brother, who glanced up briefly as Levi entered but said nothing.

    Stolen story; please report.

    The servant who had escorted Levi to the camp spoke nervously, his hands trembling slightly as he explained the meal. "Young Master, we began our journey five days ago, and the fresh bread we stored has since dried. To compensate, we roasted fresh rabbit meat from the forest and gathered some fruits. I hope this will suffice." He wiped his brow, clearly anxious about Levi''s reaction.

    In truth, it wasn''t just this servant who was on edge. All the servants attending to the meal shared the same unease.

    They moved cautiously, their eyes darting toward Levi as they arranged the food, their hands shaking as they placed each dish on the rug.

    Everyone knew the reputation of the "young devil" from the House of Veyrathis, a name that carried with it tales of a sharp temper and little patience for imperfection.

    Levi Veyrathis, the youngest son of the prestigious House of Veyrathis from the city of Zul''vharra, was an enigma to most. Outside the family''s boundaries, very few commoners knew him, and even among the noble families, only the younger generation recognized his name and face.

    However, within the walls of House Veyrathis, every servant was acutely aware of Levi''s peculiar demeanor. He was a boy who never smiled, not even to his parents.

    This had given rise to a phrase that circulated among the servants: "Even the devil smiles, but Levi? Levi''s silence cuts deeper than any grin."

    It wasn''t that Levi had ever harmed a servant or acted cruelly; rather, his aloofness and unreadable nature fueled curiosity. Servants whispered about him, their curiosity growing into questions, and those questions feeding rumors. Yet, Levi paid no mind to the gossip.

    He spent most of his time in the library or at the academy, immersed in his studies, seemingly indifferent to the world around him.

    When Levi smiled and said,"Very well, this is also good," while picking up a piece of roasted meat from the pot, the servants were stunned. A boy who never smiled, smiling?

    The shock rippled through the camp like a sudden gust of wind. The servants exchanged glances, their eyes wide with disbelief.

    Among themselves, they communicated silently with eyes, a skill they had honed in the noble houses to maintain the comfort of their masters.

    One thought echoed in their minds: "<i>A servant''s days are short."</i>They couldn''t help but wonder what this rare smile might signify.

    Levi''s brother, seated nearby, noticed everything. His sharp eyes caught the subtle shift in the atmosphere and the unease among the servants.

    With a discreet hand gesture, he signaled to a figure standing behind him, a man of middle aged dressed in attire starkly different from the servants, wearing a monocle and exuding an air of authority.

    The man, understanding the unspoken command, gestured to the servants, who immediately began to withdraw from the camp, leaving the brothers and the monocled figure in privacy.

    Levi''s brother couldn''t help but notice the rare occurrence of his younger sibling smiling, not once, but twice in a single day. "<i>Perhaps he''s nervous about the Dream Realm trial,</i>" he thought to himself, studying Levi''s calm demeanor as he ate.

    "<i>Should I try to calm him down? Though, I must admit, he does look somewhat handsome when he smiles."</i> His thoughts were interrupted by the memory of Levi lying unconscious in the carriage earlier that day.

    A sight that had filled him with dread. Determined to ease Levi''s nerves, he cleared his throat and spoke while casually biting into a piece of apple.

    "Don''t worry," he began, his tone reassuring. "I know the Dream Realm trial is difficult. When I was your age.." He paused abruptly, cutting himself off as a wave of embarrassment washed over him.

    "Just leave it," he thought, shaking his head slightly. "Some heroic deeds are better left unsaid."

    Levi, who had been quietly enjoying his meal, looked up with curiosity. "You can tell me," he said, his voice calm but intrigued. "Maybe it will be helpful."

    Before Levi''s brother could respond, the man standing behind him Alaric Veyrathis, the family butler chimed in with a mischievous grin. "Actually," Alaric said, his tone dripping with mock solemnity, "your big brother peed in his pants during the trial."

    The camp fell silent for a moment, the air thick with tension.Then, like a volcano erupting, Levi''s brother turned on Alaric, his face red with fury. "Alaric Veyrathis!" he roared, each word laced with anger as he grabbed the butler by the collar with one hand and brandished a skewer in the other, holding it dangerously close to Alaric''s neck. "If you were not the butler of House Veyrathis, I would have killed you today!"

    Alaric, however, remained unflinching. Instead of showing fear, he placed a hand over his chest and declared with pride, "If I can sacrifice my life while recounting the golden feats and immortal deeds of my younger generation, then it is an honor for me!"

    The tension was suddenly shattered by the sound of Levi''s laughter, a deep, genuine laugh that echoed louder than the argument between his brother and Alaric.

    It was a sound so rare that it caught everyone off guard. Levi''s brother, still fuming, turned to see his younger brother doubled over with laughter, tears forming in the corners of his eyes.

    Levi''s brother, his cheeks burning with embarrassment, tried to justify himself. "A lion doesn''t need to pee in private! When nature calls him, he answered immediately!" he exclaimed, his voice a mix of defensiveness and exasperation.

    As Levi''s laughter subsided, his brother couldn''t help but notice the smile still lingering on his face. "<i>How many years has it been since I last heard you laugh, little brother?"</i> he said softly, his anger fading into a mix of relief and nostalgia.

    "<i>If I told Mother, she wouldn''t believe me. Instead, she would probably beat me while scolding, ''When did you start drinking? Alcohol is forbidden in the Veyrathis family! Blah, blah, blah!''</i>" He chuckled, shaking his head as he gazed at Levi, who was still smiling.

    The camp, once filled with tension, now felt lighter, as if Levi''s laughter had lifted an invisible weight. Even Alaric, still held by the collar, couldn''t suppress a small smile.

 The Wolf in Sheeps Clothing

    After a while, when Levi''s laughter finally subsided, his brother quickly changed the subject, sensing an opportunity to steer the conversation toward more practical matters. "Anderson came to me earlier," he began, his tone shifting to a more serious note. "He mentioned that you requested data on the youngsters participating in this trial. Is that correct?"

    Levi nodded, "Yes, I asked him. Did you manage to collect it?"

    His brother sighed, running a hand through his short beard as he considered the request. "No, not yet. It will take some time," he admitted. "Gathering information on every student is no small task, even for me."

    Levi shook his head slightly, clarifying his request. "I don''t need data on every student. Just the ones from noble families. But," he added thoughtfully, "if it''s possible to collect information on all of them, it would be even more useful."

    His brother paused, weighing the options before coming to a decision. "Alright, here''s what we''ll do. I''ll provide you with the data on the noble families by tonight. By then, the students from Kalimaru City will have joined us as well. As for the remaining students, I''ll gather their information once I return from my journey. Does that work for you?"

    He nodded in agreement, his expression calm but appreciative. "That works. Thank you."

    The conversation shifted the atmosphere back to one of purpose and preparation. Levi''s brother, though still slightly embarrassed from the earlier exchange, felt a sense of relief at having resolved the matter.

    Meanwhile, Levi''s mind was already turning over the possibilities, his focus sharpening as he considered the information he would soon receive.

    In the evening,

    the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm, golden glow over the western sky where the academy teachers and trainers had set up their camps.

    However, darkness began to creep in earlier than usual, as the dense canopy of trees blocked much of the fading light, shrouding the area in a premature twilight.

    Levi sat in his camp, deep in thought. His mind was a whirlwind of calculations and predictions, trying to anticipate the  events that could unfold in the dream realm.

    He knew all too well that the dream realm was a place of constant flux, where the future was never set in stone.

    The warning from the black-cloaked men about the alternating fates of those around him echoed in his mind. "It means I have no edge in knowing people''s futures; it will alter eventually," he muttered to himself.

    "I also don''t need future events as they occur in the dream realm. If I knew everything beforehand, there would be no challenge, no fun for me as the Shadow Sovereign," he said.

    Those words now resonated within him, a reminder of his resolve to embrace the unpredictability of his existence.

    As he reflected on the dangers of the central continent, his mood grew serious. "Hunters will soon come after me," he thought, his eyes narrowing with focus. "But I''m not alone this time. And most importantly, I''m not bound by the destiny of being hunted by him."

    "I''ve always thought of myself as a wolf in sheep''s clothing, hiding in the deepest layers of disguise. Yet, he always finds me, like a pure, natural predator. It''s as if God crafted him to be my counterbalance, my eternal foil,"

    "But this time... what if I became a sheep while protecting others, not just in appearance but in nature as well? What then?" The question hung in the air, a quiet challenge to his own identity.

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    Levi had spent centuries, millennia even, honing his cunning and sharpening his mind in the dream realm.

    He was a master of manipulation, a shadow among shadows. Yet, he couldn''t shake the feeling that his greatest weakness was not his lack of raw power, but the possibility of losing the very essence of what made him dangerous, his wolf-like nature.

    Levi had forgotten something crucial. He carried with him the weight of thousands of years of experience, a lifetime of battles, betrayals, and triumphs in the ever-shifting dream realm.

    If someone were to call him the most dangerous human in the Senthora world, it wouldn''t be an exaggeration.

    His mind was a weapon sharper than any blade, his instincts honed to perfection. The only thing he lacked was sheer, overwhelming power, a gap he had always bridged with wit and strategy.

    The black-cloaked men had bestowed upon humanity a weapon in the form of Levi, a weapon that could either temper them or destroy them.

    "All students should gather in 15 minutes at the front side of the teachers'' camps. There will be a final lecture before entering the dream realm."

    The announcement echoed across the campsite, resounding three times before fading into silence.

    Soon after, the sound of hurried footsteps filled the air as students began to converge in front of the teachers'' camp area.

    The night was dark, but the camps were well-lit with glowing lumina crystals, casting a soft, warm light that ensured visibility despite the absence of the sun.

    Levi emerged from his camp, his movements calm as he made his way toward the gathering area.

    The sun had long since disappeared below the horizon, leaving the sky draped in darkness, dotted with countless stars that seemed to watch over the Senthora world with silent curiosity.

    When Levi arrived, he found thousands of students already assembled.

    Some sat on chairs arranged at the front, clearly reserved for noble students, while the majority stood impatiently.

    Among them, Dorian, who had secured a spot in the second row, gestured toward an empty chair to his right, indicating it was for Levi.

    Levi nodded in acknowledgment and took his seat, noticing Anderson sitting to Dorian''s left, his face partially hidden as if trying to avoid Levi''s gaze.

    He believes Levi is unaware of his mischievous nature. In truth, Anderson''s position in House Veyrathis is unlike that of other servants.Being the same age as Levi,  His quiet obsession with following Levi everywhere, mimicking his habits like reading the same books, sitting under the great tree that changes color with each season, set him apart.

    Anderson ignored formalities like levi: he never bowed, never extended a hand for a greeting, never waited for an invitation to meals, he never quite fit the mold of a typical attendant.

    It was as if he had simply become part of House Veyrathis, though no one could recall exactly when or how it happened.

    As Levi settled into his seat, Anderson stammered awkwardly, "Young master, I didn''t expect you to come. You rarely attend gatherings like this. I took your seat, please don''t take offense."

    Levi chuckled softly, his tone light. "If you keep calling me ''young master,'' I might just take offense."

    Anderson flushed, stumbling over his words. "No, no, Brother Levi, your heart is as... magnanimous as this dark sky" He paused, realizing his mistake, and quickly corrected himself. "No, no, not dark! It''s... bright!?"

    Levi simply chuckled again, choosing not to respond further.

    Dorian, seated between them, let out a quiet sigh of relief, observing their interaction with a mix of amusement and curiosity. "<i>When did they become so close?" </i>he wondered, feeling almost like an outsider sandwiched between the two.

    "<i>Perhaps I should invite Levi to dinner after we return home. They say good food can open the heart of even the toughest men, more effectively than the most beautiful women, even</i>."

    The presence of Dorian, the heir to the wealthiest and most influential family in Zul''vharra city, naturally drew attention. His invitation to Levi did not go unnoticed by the other students.

    The gathering was dominated by nobles, many of whom had been trained from a young age to forge connections with influential figures.

    Curious gazes turned toward Levi, their curiosity piqued by the sight of Dorian treating him as an equal.

    While the nobles from Zul''vharra were somewhat familiar with Levi''s presence in the academy, those from other cities were equally intrigued.

    Anderson, with his awkward demeanor and lack of noble bearing, was easy to dismiss.

    But Levi, his calm, composed presence and the subtle air of authority around him, made it impossible to ignore him.

    The whispers grew louder as students speculated about his identity, their curiosity burning brighter than the lumina crystals lighting the campsite.

    "Garret, look who''s behind us. We have the two princes of our city here," a boy with jet-black eyes and stark white hair nudged the elbow of the boy to his left, both seated in the front row.

    "Oh my, Levi Veyrathis and Dorian Veylmont. What a surprise," the other boy said, turning back with mock astonishment.

    Dorian''s expression darkened instantly. The tone of their voices was anything but not welcoming.

    "<i>Oh god, why do these two have to sit right here in front of us? Levi rarely ever comes out with me... This isn''t good</i>," he thought to himself."I can handle them myself but what if they start mocking levi, a fight could be broke out"

 A World That Devours the Weak

    "Did someone say the name Levi?" a voice called out from the same row where two boys were seated.

    "Elias Veyrathis..." the boy who had recognized Levi and Dorian said to the other, who had spoken now. The boy he addressed bore facial features strikingly similar to Levi.

    "I think the House of Veyrathis didn''t teach their chicks to refrain from barging into conversations uninvited," the boy named Garrett said to Elias, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

    "When did the dogs of Barroway take it upon themselves to discipline others in public?" retorted a slightly red-haired, strong-bodied boy seated to Garrett''s left.

    "Orion, you''re going too far," Garrett snapped, turning to the boy who had just insulted his family. "Take your words back about the Barroway family, or else"

    Dorian, seizing the opportunity, jumped into the conversation. "Then what? You can dish it out, but when others speak, it''s suddenly a dishonor to the Barroway family?"

    "Nobles, my foot. They act all high and mighty in public, but step on their toes, and they start barking like common strays," a sharp female voice rang out, cutting through the tension.

    Levi immediately recognized the voice. "<i>Elyra Morrthaine... Why is she here</i>?" he thought to himself, a flicker of concern crossing his mind. "<i>This shouldn''t have happened. Did she come to record the Dream Realm trial for her newspaper?</i>"

    All eyes turned to the woman who had just entered the fray of noble arguments.

    She stood tall, her red hair and light blue eyes catching the light. A pen rested behind her ear, and black gloves adorned her hands.

    Her words were so piercing that the entire gathering fell silent.

    "So it''s true what they say, a journalist''s tongue can out-argue a lawyer. I''d challenge you to a debate, but I value my sanity too much," Orion quipped, addressing Elyra with a mix of amusement and irritation.

    "Ahem... Attention here, students!" A voice, neither youthful nor frail, echoed through the gathering area, commanding immediate silence.

    All the nobles, who had been arguing moments ago, along with those who had been watching with disappointment that a fight hadn''t broken out, turned their attention to the source of the voice.

    It was powerful, evenly distributed, and carried the weight of authority, clearly belonging to someone of high standing.

    A middle-aged man stood in front of the teachers'' camp, his presence unmistakably that of an academy official.

    Suddenly, a rectangular boulder materialized out of nowhere in front of the students, and the man stepped onto it.

    "You should save your fighting spirit for the Dream Realm, where you''ll have the chance to prove yourselves as Echoes," the man declared, his voice stern. "But know this, most of you will not become Echoes. Instead of wasting time arguing, you should focus on preparing yourselves."

    "Now," he continued, "tell me how you should behave in the Dream Realm. Speak loudly enough so that even the commoner students standing in the last row can hear you clearly."

    The commoner students, who didn''t belong to any esteemed family, had little to no information about the Dream Realm and Echoes.

    They could afford to learn the arts, sciences, history, and culture, but knowledge about the Dream Realm and Echoes was highly confidential, accessible only to those with wealth and influence, which commoners lacked.

    At these words, the faces of the commoner youth lit up with hope. However, Elrya Morrthaine''s expression darkened.

    "<i>Just like them, six years ago, I too embarked on this journey," </i>she thought bitterly. "<i>But because I came from a commoner family, I had no access to information about the Dream Realm and Echoes. That lack of knowledge cost me my chance to pass the trial and become an Echo. My future was ruined because of it, and I remained a nobody, a commener, only echoes are respected in the society."</i>

    "<i>Those dogs of the Central Domain, masquerading as humans, hoarded this vital information from the public. How dare they decide the fate of an entire generation?"</i> Her hands clenched the arms of her chair, her knuckles turning white.

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    Tears welled up in her eyes, though no one noticed except one person.

    "<i>Don''t worry. They will pay for their sins. Just stay strong,"</i> Levi thought to himself, his gaze fixed on Elyra with unwavering confidence.

    He knew exactly what she was thinking.

    The organization that controls knowledge of the Dream Realm and Echoes has declared to the world that anyone who leaks this confidential information will be branded an enemy of all humanity.

    But what grants them the audacity to issue such a decree? The world, they claim, belongs to every human born into it.

    Yet the bitter truth is this: power resides with those of noble blood, whose lineages stretch back to the Sovereigns of the pre-Common Era.

    Most nobles are steeped in the same ideology, passed down from birth like an heirloom, a belief in their inherent superiority. To them, the dream of becoming Echoes is not a privilege but a birthright, a destiny reserved solely for their kind.

    But what of the commoners? Who speaks for them? Who even acknowledges their existence? In every generation, people like Elyra rise, voices armed with pens, determined to etch truth onto pages stained by lies.

    They fight to awaken the masses to their rights, to expose the systems that shackle them. Yet these truths rarely survive the light of day.

    Those who dare speak out vanish, their families condemned to horrors beyond comprehension, punished for crimes they did not commit.Entire lineages are erased, as though they never existed at all.

    The world may preach equality, but it is a stage where only the noble-born hold the script.

    For the rest, survival is a fleeting hope, snuffed out long before it can take root.

    Garrett stood up and began explaining the Dream Realm:

    "Whenever we enter the Dream Realm, we must appear in groups of two or more, focused on a shared objective. If we venture in alone or become separated from our group, we risk being lost there forever."

    The middle-aged man interjected, "Can you explain why formation is necessary?"

    Garrett nodded. "Because appearing alone leaves your mind vulnerable. The Dream Realm warps reality based on individual perception. But in a group, our collective thoughts form a mental cluster, a shared space where each member''s imagination stabilizes the environment.

    "This cluster constantly shifts as our minds interact, creating a protective barrier against the Dream Realm''s consciousness, which seeks to invade and distort isolated minds."

    He paused, then added, "This method is our best defense for now, but it''s not foolproof. Danger can still breach the cluster. Fear, for instance, can synchronize our collective consciousness, amplifying weaknesses."

    "The truth is, the Dream Realm itself isn''t malevolent, it''s a neutral force."

    "The problem lies with us. We''re fragile, temporary guests in a realm that operates beyond mortal limits."

    Very good," said the middle-aged man with a nod. "Now, who can explain how one becomes an Echo?"

    A boy rose from his seat. "We must locate the Temple of Erytheia through our collective consciousness. Once it manifests, the trial begins. We''ll pass through the Seven Gates of Life, each representing a trial."

    "The seventh gate "The Shattered Veil" tests our endurance of pain, sixth gate "The Emberforge" our resilience against suffering, and so on.

    "If we conquer the seventh gate, we ascend as a order 7 Marked Echo. But if we fail¡­" He hesitated, the weight of his next words settling over the crowd. "¡­this is our only chance.There will be no next time."

    The middle aged men clasped his hands, a rare flicker of approval in his eyes. "Well summarized. Remember, the gates do not forgive hesitation. Prepare your minds, or the Dream Realm will claim them."

    "That''s it for today. We will reach the Dream Realm tomorrow. Sleep well though perhaps you''ll never see another dawn," said the middle-aged man, his voice cold and mocking.

    With a flicker of power, he vanished into thin air, leaving behind only the faint echo of his words, a display of his mysterious abilities.

    The commoners, once trembling with fear at the thought of the Dream Realm, now buzzed with a mix of excitement and nervous energy.

    The warnings they had received had tempered their dread, and many now felt prepared to face whatever lay ahead.

    Elrya sat stiffly, her face flushed with anger. "<i>How foolish of me to think they''d share anything useful</i>." she thought bitterly."<i>They only told us about the dangers, enough to scare us into caution but nothing about how to survive the trials. They''re protecting their own interests, as always. All they gave us were scraps to keep their own necks safe."</i>

    Around her, the other students began to disperse, their forms fading as they returned to their camps.

    Elyra rose from her seat, her movements sharp with frustration, and made her way to her own camp.

    The camp was sparse, with only two small beds and nothing else.

    On one bed lay a young girl, no more than six years old, her fiery red hair spilling across the pillow as she slept soundly.

    Elyra changed out of her formal attire, carefully folding the black suit she had worn for years. "<i>This is all I have left for noble gatherings,</i>" she thought, her fingers tracing the worn fabric. "<i>Mother and Father saved for years to buy this for me, hoping it would give me confidence on my journey to the Dream Realm."</i>

    She sat on her bed, clutching the suit tightly. "<i>August is coming. If I don''t find something valuable in the Dream Realm, I''ll have to sell this to pay for Aeliana''s academy fees and our rent."</i>The thought weighed heavily on her, but as she looked at her little sister, her anger began to fade.

    Gently, Elyra reached out and combed her fingers through Aeliana''s red hair, the motion soothing and familiar.

    The sight of her sister''s peaceful face was enough to calm her racing thoughts. "<i>This little one is my reason to keep going",</i> she reminded herself. "<i>No matter what happens, I''ll protect her.</i>"

 Words That Cut Deeper Than Blades

    Elyra Morrthaine was born into a commoner family, a class that held little recognition in society.In her world, commoners were not permitted to carry lineage names as surnames, and most had long forgotten the names of their ancestors.

    Thus, "Morrthaine" was not a family name but simply part of her full name, a marker of her identity in a world that often overlooked people like her.

    In the year 2806, 6 years ago, Elyra faced a pivotal moment in her life: the Dream Realm Trial.

    This trial was a sacred rite of passage, a chance to awaken an Echo Power¡ªa mystical ability tied to one''s soul and destiny.

    However, despite her determination and hope, Elyra failed to became an Echo.

    Heartbroken and filled with doubt, she returned home, replaying the trial in her mind, wondering where she had gone wrong.

    As she stepped through the door, she was met with devastating news. Her mother had tragically died while giving birth to her little sister.

    The weight of this loss was crushing, compounded by the fact that her father had already passed away six months earlier in a coal mining accident.

    In a matter of moments, Elyra''s world shattered. She was now an orphan, responsible for a newborn sister in a society that offered little support to those of her station.

    She had lost everything¡ªher future and her past. Her future, which once held the promise of becoming an esteemed columnist in an official newspaper, now lay in ruins.

    The protection and love of her parents, her anchor in life, were also gone, leaving her adrift in a world that felt colder and more unforgiving than ever before.

    The only tangible remnant of her past was the home her parents had left behind. But when she returned to it, hoping to find solace, she was met with a cruel twist of fate.

    When she arrived, she found strangers waiting inside¡ªtwo unfamiliar figures, a man and a woman, cradling her newborn sister.

    They called themselves relatives.

    It was the first time she had ever heard that word spoken in relation to herself.

    "<i>Relatives. What a convenient species¡ªthey only appeared when you had nothing left.</i>"

    She wasn''t naive. She understood what strangers meant when they stood in your home uninvited.

    The malice in their eyes was unmistakable. But as she studied them, she couldn''t deny the resemblance the woman bore to her mother. They weren''t necessarily lying.

    Her mind spiraled, her thoughts unraveling as she stood there, frozen at her own doorstep. "<i>What are they after?".</i>

    "<i>What could possibly interest them?"</i>

    This journey into the dream realm¡ªa place where one always took back something useful, no matter how tragic the experience, had sharpened her instincts for survival.

    She had learned to trust her gut, and now it screamed at her to be wary.

    Then, suddenly, her gaze landed on the man''s face, and her body froze.

    If it were said that a beautiful noblewoman had given birth to her and then left her in this commoner''s house, it wouldn''t be far-fetched.

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    The simplicity of her appearance, no makeup, no adornments, only enhanced her natural beauty, making it all the more striking.

    He now understood clearly why, during their journey and even during the trial, nobles had been stealing glances at her. She, naive as she was, thought it was natural. "We are companions," she had reasoned.

    To her, there was no difference between nobles and commoners.

    But the commoners around her saw it truthfully¡ªthe way the nobles looked at her, the unspoken divide that separated her from them. Even as they walked from Zul''vharra City toward the Dream Realm, the difference was clear.

    For the first time in his life, he saw a human behaving like a beast, lust burning in their eyes as they gazed at her.

    Her instincts, heightened in the Dream Realm for survival, screamed at her to run¡ªto flee with all her strength. Otherwise, she would be dragged into inevitable suffering.

    The tension in the air was palpable, and the danger felt closer than ever. She needed to act, to escape, before it was too late.

    She turned, ready to flee but then she heard it.

    A cry.

    A desperate, innocent wail from the infant in the woman''s arms.

    Her little sister.

    A tiny, angelic face twisted in distress, wailing in the woman''s arms. Whether the baby sensed the suffocating tension in the air or was simply crying out for food, Elyra didn''t know. But she knew one thing, her little sister was calling for her.

    The baby reached out, tiny fingers trembling in the cold air, unaware of the danger in the room.

    Elyra stopped.

    She stepped forward, her movements deceptively calm. She reached out as if to take the child¡ªthen, with all the force she could muster, she slapped the woman across the face.

    The crack of impact echoed through the house.

    Before the woman could react, Elyra drove a brutal kick into her abdomen, sending her stumbling.

    The child tumbled from her grasp. Elyra caught her in one swift motion.

    Then she ran.

    She ran with everything she had, her muscles screaming, her lungs burning. She never looked back.

    She never returned to that house.

    She moved from one rented room to another, carrying her sister, struggling to survive.

    She started to despise commoners, calling them illiterate and narrow-minded, while she saw nobles as broad-minded.

    Reality hit her like the relentless sunlight of Senthora, every day brought new struggles.

    She begged nobles for work, but all she received were lustful advances.

    The difference was that nobles masked their desires with honeyed words, simply hid  behind layers of civility, waiting like serpents to strike  while commoners let their intentions show plainly in their eyes.

    Others made false promises offering her work with no pay for years, claiming she would be "rewarded" when she became more skilled.

    She didn''t have years.

    She had a starving child in her arms.

    With no other options, she began scavenging for food, taking leftovers from restaurants.

    She would take a small bite, crush it in her mouth, and then feed it to her little sister. It was a heartbreaking routine, but it kept them alive.

    Though she was tired and her screams for help went unheard, the sight of her sister''s face always reignited a spark of determination within her.

    She pushed herself harder, driven by the need to provide for the one person who depended on her.

    Survival was the fundamental impulse that drove humanity to persevere, a defiant stance against the unforgiving forces of existence. Life and death stood as eternal sentinels, polar opposites that framed the human experience. Between these two extremes, a ceaseless struggle unfolded, as mortals wrestled against the whims of fate. And at the heart of this primal drive lay the most elemental, yet selfish, of human desires: "The Will To Live".

    To cope with her pain, she began writing. She poured her struggles, her anger, and her hopes into a book, but no one read it.

    Undeterred, she started her own newspaper, a one-woman army fighting to make her voice heard.

    Slowly, her efforts began to pay off. She sold news, and though the income was meager, it was enough to pay her sister''s academy fees and put decent food on the table.

    Her talent with words started to gain recognition. Noble womens, intrigued by her eloquence, began commissioning poems and phrases for their birthday parties and events.

    It was a small victory, but it gave her a foothold in a society that had once dismissed her.

    Yet, life in Zul''vharra City was a constant struggle.

    "Money flows like a river¡ªearned in one hand, lost in another."

    "Coins change hands, but never find a home."

    "Wealth in Zul''vharra is a fleeting shadow, never truly owned."

    "Gold lingers for a moment, only to slip away."

    These phrases of her spread among commoners, echoing through the streets until even the noble families began to speak them.

    She was a woman of immense strength, her nerves forged in the fires of hardship.

    She endured pain and suffering, trimming away the parts of herself that could break, emerging as a gemstone, rough and unpolished, but undeniably precious.

    All she needed was a chance to shine, but in a world that thrived on inequality, who would give her that opportunity?

    She was strong.

    A gemstone formed through suffering.

    But gemstones do not shine on their own.

    They need light.

    And who would give her that chance?

 The First Move

    Levi sat in his camp, the faint glow of a lantern casting long shadows across the room.

    The air was filled with the light, tart aroma of Hibiscus sabdariffa petals steeping in his tea, a drink he favored for its refreshing sharpness and subtle medicinal properties.

    Hibiscus sabdariffa flowers are primarily found in eastern Continent, while the Southern Continent has limited agricultural land due to the vast desert that dominates much of its western region.

    The cup rested on a small wooden table beside him, its surface polished to a dull sheen.

    In his left hand, he held a sheet of paper, its edges slightly crumpled from his grip.

    His eyes moved methodically across the names written there, each one carrying weight and significance.

    Thorne Blackthorn. Mira Greaves. Dorian Veylmont. Timoleon¡­

    He muttered the names under his breath, his voice low and deliberate. Finally, his gaze settled on one name, and his lips curled into a faint, almost imperceptible smile.

    "Lira Sol''mariel".

    "Here it is," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

    "Anderson," Levi called, his tone sharp and commanding.

    From the adjacent tent, a deep voice responded almost immediately. "Yes, Brother Levi."

    A moment later, a tall, broad-shouldered young boy stepped into the room.

    Anderson''s frame was muscular, though softened slightly by a layer of fat that hinted at a life of relative comfort.

    His presence was imposing, yet there was a quiet deference in his demeanor as he stood before Levi, waiting for instructions.

    "Bring me a pen and three sheets of paper," Levi said, still not looking up.

    Anderson nodded and disappeared into the shadows of the camp. He returned swiftly, holding the requested items.

    Levi took them without a word and began writing. His hand moved with precision, each stroke of the pen deliberate and unhurried.

    Within minutes, he had finished three letters, each sealed with the insignia of his noble household, a crest that carried both power and prestige.

    He handed the letters to Anderson, his expression unreadable. "This is the first time I''m giving you a task in all these years," Levi remarked, his voice calm but laced with a subtle challenge.

    Anderson accepted the letters, his brow furrowing slightly as he processed the words. Levi''s gaze remained fixed on him, as if waiting for a reaction.

    When none came, Levi continued, "You''ve followed me everywhere, but do you know why I never spoke a word to you all this time?"

    Anderson shrugged, his expression thoughtful. "You''re cold to everyone, so I never thought much about it."

    A faint smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. "But honestly, I like that you treat everyone the same¡ªlike stones, as if they don''t even exist."

    He hesitated for a moment, then added, "I don''t want to call you ''Brother'', it feels awkward. I''d rather just say ''Young Master.'' The one who never changes, who never wavers, even before a nation-toppling beauty or unimaginable wealth.

    "You take only what you need."

    Anderson''s voice grew quieter, almost introspective. "If you ever change, you''ll become just like them, those emotional fools who think they''re important, but in truth, they''re nothing more than slaves to their desires and greed."

    Levi''s eyes narrowed, his gaze sharpening like a blade. "You call them slaves, yet you follow me everywhere. What''s the difference between them and you?"

    The question hung in the air, heavy and unyielding. Anderson fell silent, his mind racing as he searched for an answer. After a long moment, he spoke, his voice steady but tinged with uncertainty. "I don''t know about them, but I know myself. I follow you by choice. And if one day comes when I learn nothing from you, I will stop."

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    Levi leaned forward slightly, his expression unreadable. "If I gave you a choice, follow me, or become an Echo, what would you pick?"

    Anderson didn''t hesitate. "I would follow you."

    Levi raised an eyebrow, his tone laced with skepticism. "Why? I think you''re a fool, rejecting power for loyalty."

    Anderson shook his head, his voice firm. "If I became an Echo, I''d only reach Level 7, marked and stagnant until death. But if I follow you, I might remain within the walls of the Veyrathis family¡­ or I might see the world beyond the Southern Continent. The second choice is full of risk, but I''ll take it."

    Levi stared at him for a long moment, his gaze piercing and unrelenting. Finally, he spoke, his voice measured. "I''m about to set things in motion that will plunge the world into war. Perhaps the entire world will turn against me. Do you still want to follow?"

    Anderson''s breath caught in his throat. A shiver ran through him¡ªnot from fear, but from the sheer thrill of Levi''s words.

    His heart pounded in his chest, and he felt a surge of adrenaline that made his hands tremble slightly. He straightened his shoulders, his eyes blazing with determination.

    "I will follow you to the depths of hell if that''s what it takes," he declared, his voice unwavering.

    Levi exhaled through his nose, a faint, almost imperceptible sound. "Stupid boy. What are you even imagining? We''re not going to topple a nation and bathe the streets in blood."

    Anderson blinked, his expression shifting from fierce determination to innocent confusion. "Huh? We''re not?" His voice was filled with genuine surprise, as if the idea had never occurred to him.

    Levi sighed, a rare flicker of exasperation crossing his face. "This boy¡­" he muttered under his breath, shaking his head slightly. Then, his tone turned cold and commanding once more. "Go. Deliver these letters to the intended recipients. And find a boy named Lira Sol''mariel, tell him my Young Master calls for him urgently."

    Anderson nodded, gripping the letters tightly. He turned and vanished into the shadows of the camp, his footsteps silent against the packed earth.

    Levi leaned back in his chair, his fingers brushing against the rim of his teacup. He took another sip, the tartness of the hibiscus tea lingering on his tongue.

    The pieces were now moving, and he could feel the weight of the decisions he had set into motion.

    The world was a chessboard, and he was the player, carefully positioning each piece for the game ahead.

    As he sat there, the lantern''s light flickered, casting shifting patterns on the walls of the tent. His mind wandered, tracing the paths of possibility and consequence.

    He had always been a man of few words, preferring action over empty promises. Yet, in Anderson, he had found something rare¡ªa loyalty that was not born of obligation, but of choice. It was a dangerous thing, loyalty. It could be a weapon or a weakness, depending on how it was wielded.

    Levi''s thoughts turned to Lira Sol''mariel, the name that had caught his attention earlier. He didn''t know much about the boy past, only that he was connected to the threads Levi was now pulling.

    And that was enough. In the grand scheme of things, individuals were often little more than pawns. But sometimes, a pawn could change the course of the game.

    The camp was quiet now, the only sound the soft rustling of the wind against the tent''s fabric. Levi closed his eyes, allowing himself a moment of stillness. The calm before the storm, he thought. Soon, the world would shift, and he would be at the center of it all.

    And Anderson¡­ Levi couldn''t help but wonder if the boy truly understood what he had signed up for. Loyalty was a double-edged sword, and the path ahead would test it in ways Anderson could not yet imagine. But for now, Levi would let him believe in the simplicity of his choice. There would be time enough for the truth later.

    Sometime later, a lean boy stood before Levi, his face tense. "No, it''s impossible."

    "If you go there alone, you''ll be lost. I refuse. I don''t want to be hunted by the Veylmont and Veyrathis families."

    Levi''s gaze remained cold. "Your family is already being chased by the Veyrathis family. After all, we''re just a branch of the Veyrathis bloodline from the Central Continent."

    The boy stiffened. Fear flickered in his eyes, and sweat began to bead on his forehead. But he forced himself to stay calm. "I don''t know what you''re talking about, Young Master Levi."

    "I''m just a commoner. Why would the Veyrathis family bother with us?" His voice was steady, but his fingers twitched. "The night is late. I think Young Master should rest." He turned to leave.

    Levi''s voice cut through the air.

    "Okay, Lira Sol''mariel. Or should I say... Kael Aeltheryn?"

    The boy froze mid-step.

    "I was offering you a chance for revenge, but you refused it. Well... I suppose that''s just my bad luck."

    Kael''s hand instinctively dropped to his waist, fingers brushing the hilt of a hidden knife. His voice was low, wary. "How do you know that name?"

    "It''s all in the past now," he added quickly, as if trying to convince himself.

    Levi''s expression didn''t change. "Oh? Then why do your eyes betray you, Kael?"

    Kael felt the weight of Levi''s gaze pressing on him, cold and unwavering.

    "I''ll give you one last chance." Levi''s voice was firm, almost commanding.

    Kael''s thoughts raced." <i>What should I do? If we expose ourselves now, we''ll be hunted just like we were five hundred years ago. The Dream Realm Trial can wait..."</i>

    "<i>But this boy¡ªwhy can''t I see through him? He''s from the Veyrathis family, yet... only a Sovereign can predict Dream Realm events. And Sovereign... haven''t existed for previous three thousand years."</i>

    He clenched his fists. "<i>Perhaps I should take a slight risk."</i>

    "Fine." He exhaled. "I''ll do it. But if the event you predicted in the Dream Realm never happens..." His eyes darkened. "I''ll kill you all, including those three over there."

    "The tales of the Dream Realm are meant to stay within the Dream Realm," he said before turning on his heel and leaving the camp, showing not the slightest hint of respect.

    Levi watched him go, unfazed.

    "One day, you''ll realize," he murmured, his voice lingering in the night air. "This was the best choice of your life."

    Kael halted for a fraction of a second. Then, gritting his teeth, he kept walking.

    "That boy... he acts like everything is in the palm of his hand."

 Echoes of Power

    In the world of Senthora, every human has the potential to unlock supernatural powers that transcend mortal limitations.

    These extraordinary abilities are drawn from three mystical sources, but gaining access to them is not a matter of choice, it is dictated by luck, fate, and destiny.

    For most, the journey to harnessing such power is uncertain, a gamble of chance and circumstance.

    However, for those born of noble blood, these powers are not a matter of chance, they are a birthright, an inheritance woven into their very essence, granting them unparalleled mastery over the forces that shape their world.

    In the Dream Realm, individuals who prove themselves worthy can ascend to become Honorable Echoes, revered figures who embody the pinnacle of wisdom, strength, and virtue.

    These Echoes are not only respected but also hold immense influence across all facets of society. Their journey begins at Order 7, the entry point for those who have demonstrated exceptional character and skill, and culminates at Order 1, the zenith of power and authority.

    In the Dream Realm, an Echo can stumble upon a lost Echo Memory¡ªa fragment of experience left behind by those who once wandered its depths. These memories are like dreams that never end, capable of trapping an Echo in an endless illusion.

    For example, an Echo might find themselves dreaming of a swordsman, endlessly reliving the lessons of a long-forgotten master. The knowledge they gain there is real,

    allowing them to wield techniques that rival even seasoned Echoes.

    However, unlike an Echo''s inherent powers, an Echo Memory is forever frozen at the level it was originally attained.

    If a Order 6 Soul Flayer Echo were to obtain a Beast Tamer''s Echo Memory, they would inherit all the skills and knowledge of beast taming but only at Order 6.

    No matter how much they train, this memory will never evolve beyond its original limits.

    Meanwhile, as an Echo, they can still ascend to Order 5, but their beast-taming skill will remain stagnant.

    These Echo Memories hold immense value, as they can be transferred or even inherited allowing powerful abilities to persist across generations. However, Echo Powers themselves cannot be transferred.

    Yet, the greatest danger of the Dream Realm is survival. To make use of an Echo Memory, one must first escape the Dream Realm alive, a feat that many fail to accomplish.

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    Whenever a Domain emerges on Senthora, war follows. Not just among humans¡ªother races from distant worlds descend upon Senthora world, drawn by the promise of long-lost treasures.

    This rare phenomenon occurs only once in a thousand years, and with it comes a frenzy of bloodshed.

    Within each Domain lie weapons of immense power, ancient scriptures, rare herbs, and artifacts, treasures that defy time itself.

    What makes these Domains even more mysterious is their geography. Each Domain mirrors the landscape of its respective continent, yet it is infused with unimaginable riches and dangers.

    For centuries, scholars believed Domains were formed by the Dream Realm, a place beyond mortal understanding. Yet, ancient scriptures tell a different story:

    "The Domains are not born from the Dream Realm''s terrain but descend from beyond the stars."

    This raises a haunting question:

    How can a realm with no awareness of its own existence create Domains filled with artifacts beyond its own laws?

    The answer seemed impossible until the Celestial Era. Scholars of that age discovered something terrifying:

    "The Dream Realm has consciousness."

    But there was one condition, it only responds to a Sovereign.

    Even now, the origins of Domains remain an unresolved mystery, debated fiercely by scholars, rulers, and warlords alike. Are Domains a gift of fate, a curse of the gods, or remnants of an ancient war fought across the stars?

    No one knows. But when a Domain appears, every kingdom, every race, and every warlord will kill to claim it.

    There is a clear distinction between Noble Families and Noble Blood.

    Noble Families are those who rose to prominence during the reign of a Sovereign, earning his recognition through power, influence, or merit.

    Their status is granted by legacy, not lineage.

    Once a Sovereign''s era fades, their prestige may wane unless they continue to prove their worth.

    Noble Blood, however, belongs to the direct descendants of a Sovereign. Even if a Sovereign lived centuries ago, their bloodline retains its title, carrying the weight of ancestral power and divine right.

    A Noble Family may rise and fall, but Noble Blood is eternal¡ªso long as their lineage endures.

    Dorian sat on his bed, engrossed in a book filled with complex arithmetic equations. His brows furrowed as he traced the numbers, deep in thought.

    A servant entered the tent and leaned down, whispering something into his ear.

    "What?" Dorian''s voice rang out sharply. His gaze snapped up, eyes narrowing. "Give it to me."

    The servant handed him a sealed letter before silently leaving the tent.

    Dorian turned it over in his hands, his irritation growing. "Why send me a letter? He could''ve just come himself..." He scoffed, tearing the seal open.

    An owl insignia was pressed into the wax, a clear mark of the Veyrathis family.

    His fingers tightened around the paper as he began reading. The further his eyes traveled down the page, the more his expression twisted, anxiety, disbelief, and a creeping sense of dread flashing across his face.

    "What? Levi, are you insane?" He muttered, his grip tightening. "If you want to die, go alone! Why the hell are you dragging me into this?"

    Anger laced his voice, but beneath it lay something far more dangerous¡ªfear.

    And he wasn''t the only one.

    That night, in different corners of the campsite, two others received the same letter.

    Their expressions were not just ones of anger but deep confusion and unease.

    Something was happening. And Levi Veyrathis was at the center of it all.

 Deeper into the Unknown

    In every era, a Sovereign is born. Like Echoes, they must undergo trials to claim their rightful place.

    But unlike an Echo, a Sovereign is the guiding force of their era, leading humanity to glory and shielding them from the assaults of foreign races that seek to invade this world.

    A Sovereign wields immense power, for they alone command the Dream Realm, a vast domain that is both their body and their will.

    The Domains within it are their limbs, extensions of their authority, forged to protect and to conquer.

    Legends say that when a constellation shaped like an eye appears within the Dream Realm, it is a sign¡ªthe Domains are about to open, and a new Sovereign is about to rise.

    In the current era, no Sovereign exists. That is why it is called the Common Era, a time of stagnation, where no one stands at the pinnacle to guide or protect humanity.

    Anyone can become an Echo, but a Sovereign is chosen, not made.

    Before a Sovereign dies, they mark their successor, leaving behind their will and power. That mark grants the chosen one the right to enter the Dream Realm and face the trial that determines their fate.

    But in the previous era, history was rewritten.

    For the first time ever, a Sovereign was slain before choosing a successor. It was long believed that Sovereigns were invincible, their power absolute.

    Few had ever been killed by weapons¡ªmost simply faded with age, their duty fulfilled.

    Yet this time, the cycle was broken.

    A Sovereign had fallen, and with them, the certainty of the future.

    As morning broke over the southern continent, the sun''s rays illuminated the landscape, casting a warm glow over the carriages making their way toward the Dream Realm.

    The air was thick with anticipation and nervous energy, as students from various noble and commoner families prepared to face the trials that would determine their futures.

    Would they emerge as Echoes, imbued with the power to shape reality, or would they remain unknown, their potential unfulfilled?

    A loud, booming voice echoed through the air, "We will now enter the Dream Realm! All students, exit your carriages and form your groups!" The carriages came to a halt, and the students disembarked, their faces set with determination.

    They formed a large, intricate formation, with the noble-blooded students at the core, surrounded by those from noble families, and the commoners making up the outermost ring.

    Their teachers, wise and experienced guides, moved among the students, offering words of encouragement and caution. "Remember, do not travel alone in the Dream Realm," one teacher warned. "If you become separated from your group, you risk losing not only your way but also your life."

    As the students stood at attention, they gazed out upon the landscape before them. The Ashenveil Woods stretched out, a seemingly endless sea of trees that appeared to swallow the horizon.

    The students had been traveling through this forest for six days, and yet, the woods seemed just as vast and mysterious as when they first entered.

    "Where is the Dream Realm?" Anderson,  standing alongside Levi, whispered the question that was on everyone''s mind.

    They had expected a clear boundary, a defining line that would separate the Dream Realm from the Ashenveil Woods.

    But as they stood there, the trees seemed to loom over them, casting long, ominous shadows on the ground.

    Levi, his eyes gleaming with a knowing intensity, turned to Anderson and whispered, "What can you expect from a dream?" He paused, his gaze sweeping across the landscape. "The teachers have miscalculated. We are already within the Dream Realm."

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    Anderson''s eyes widened in shock as he stared at Levi. "What? When?" he stammered.

    As if in response to Levi''s words, the scene before them began to shift and distort. The trees seemed to melt away, replaced by massive, twisted vines that rose from the earth like colossal serpents.

    The air was heavy with the scent of autumn, and the ground was carpeted with fallen leaves that crunched softly beneath their feet.

    An oppressive silence fell over the group, a silence so profound that it seemed to take on a life of its own.

    It was as if the very woods themselves were watching them, waiting for them to make a wrong move.

    "Attention, students!" a teacher called out, his voice low and urgent. "We are within the Dream Realm. Remain calm, focus your minds, and do not touch the vines. Think of the Temple of Erytheia, and repeat its name continuously as we move forward."

    As the students began to move, their voices whispering the words "Temple of Erytheia" in unison, Anderson turned to Levi with a look of concern. "Young Master, don''t be afraid. If any danger arises, I''ll¡ª"

    But Levi was nowhere to be seen. Anderson''s eyes scanned the group frantically, his heart racing with fear. "Young Master! Where are you?" he cried out, his voice echoing through the silence.

    A figure emerged from the carriage behind Anderson, a young boy with emerald green eyes and brown hair. "Why are you shouting so loudly?" the boy asked, his voice low and even. "Think of the Temple of Erytheia, and repeat its name, just as the teacher instructed."

    Anderson''s eyes widened in relief as he realized that the boy was Levi, or at least, a duplicate of him. He had been so caught up in the moment that he hadn''t noticed the switch.

    As they moved deeper into the Dream Realm, Levi''s duplicate walked alongside Anderson.

    The figure, identical to Levi in every way, glanced over his shoulder, his eyes scanning the surroundings as if searching for something or someone.

    His thoughts, a jumble of confusion and concern, echoed in his mind.

    "<i>Did he really mean to abandon us? It''s sheer madness to venture into the Dream Realm alone. Doesn''t he fear getting lost forever</i>?" The questions swirled in his head, each one laced with a growing sense of unease.

    "<i>I thought it was just youthful bravado, a reckless impulse driven by excitement and curiosity</i>."

    "<i>But to actually go through with it... Levi Veyrathis, who are you, really</i>?" The duplicate''s eyes narrowed, his mind racing with the implications of Levi''s actions.

    As he fell into step behind Anderson, the duplicate''s lips moved in a silent litany, repeating the words "Temple of Erytheia" like a mantra. Fear lurked in his eyes.

    ____________

    While other students and teachers embarked on their trials to become Echoes, Levi did not. He was not meant for an Echo''s trial. His path was different¡ªa trial for Sovereigns.

    Levi moved forward, pushing through tangled vines that coiled and twisted like living serpents.

    A hollow of light floated before him, pulsing with an otherworldly glow, guiding him deeper into the unknown.

    The world around him was in constant flux, scenes shifting, warping, unraveling into new realities with every step he took.

    One moment, he found himself trapped within a labyrinth of mirrors, countless reflections of himself standing in twisted formations.

    They did not mimic his movements. They screamed his name instead. Their voices overlapped, rising into a deafening cacophony that clawed at his mind.

    Some reflections wept. Some laughed maniacally. Others simply stared, empty-eyed, as if waiting for something unseen.

    Before the madness could consume him, the light pulsed and the world shattered.

    Now he stood in a place unlike any other. A grand library, but not one built by human hands. Vast galleries of books floated in midair, pages fluttering though there was no wind.

    Some whispered secrets in forgotten tongues. Others bled ink that dripped endlessly into the void below.

    Levi reached out instinctively, but the light flared, warning him. Temptation here was a trap. He withdrew his hand and stepped forward.

    The scene collapsed again.

    Now he was in a valley of blood, stretching as far as the eye could see. The air smelled of iron and decay.

    Floating upon its crimson surface were beasts beyond comprehension, colossal entities, their sheer size making him feel insignificant.

    Their forms were grotesque, shifting between the monstrous and the divine. Some had too many eyes, others none at all.

    Their hollow gazes fell upon him, but none dared approach. The light protected him.

    He blinked, and the world changed again.

    Water. Everywhere.

    It stretched infinitely in all directions. No sky. No ground. Just a vast, endless ocean with no waves, no sound, only stillness.

    He took a step, and the surface rippled, distorting the stars reflected in the water. The light flickered, steady yet fragile, as if aware that this place was different. More dangerous.

    Levi knew he was being watched. Not by creatures of flesh, but by the Dream Realm itself.

    This was its nature.

    It did not kill. It deceived.

    It lured travelers with familiar visions, twisted memories, whispered promises of power and knowledge.

    It reflected their desires, their fears, their curiosities. And when they stepped too close, when they allowed themselves to believe in the illusion¡ªthey were lost.

    Trapped for eternity.

    But Levi had something they didn''t.

    The light.

    No matter how the Dream Realm shifted, how it bent reality to tempt or terrify him, the hollow of light remained his anchor.

    It was the one constant in this ever-changing nightmare, shielding him from the illusions that sought to consume him.

    And so, he walked forward, deeper into the unknown.

 Echoes of Sovereigns

    The forest was a labyrinth of knotted vines and decaying autumn leaves, their brittle forms crunching like bones underfoot.

    The air hung thick with humidity, clinging to the travelers'' skin as if the very atmosphere sought to suffocate them.

    For nearly a day, the group had trudged forward, their robes sodden with sweat, their breaths labored. Among them, a student finally snapped.

    "When will we finally see the Temple of Erytheia?" one of the students cried out, his voice laced with frustration. "We''re all tired from walking, and you won''t even let us ride our horses!"

    The middle-aged instructor, a man with streaks of silver threading his temples, turned slowly. His eyes, sharp as flint, silenced the murmurs before they began. "You think this is a pilgrimage for your comfort?" he hissed. The veins in his neck pulsed, his face flushing crimson. "You believe the Dream Realm bends to ''whims''?"

    He paused, sweeping his gaze over the group.

    "Do you all think the same?"

    Silence.

    The students said nothing. Their hands instinctively flew to the leather flasks at their hips, gulping tepid water to avoid his glare.

    Sweat dripped from their chins, pooling in the hollows of their collarbones. The forest seemed to press inward, vines quivering as if alive, leaves rustling with secrets.

    They knew better. In the Dream Realm, doubt was a poison. Desire, a compass. Their shared fixation on the Temple of Erytheia was the only thread keeping them anchored.

    Without it, the forest''s illusions, the way shadows slithered at the edges of vision, the whispers that weren''t quite wind would have devoured them already.

    The temperature in their surroundings were increasing and due to humidity, some of them even lost consciousness for some time.

    These were the times when they stopped for that specific students and students have a sigh of relief for walking

    Then starting praying that someone again lost consciousness and they rest for a while

    The trees loomed over them, their autumn-dyed leaves whispering in the wind. Yet, despite the shifting landscape, their path never seemed to change.

    They were stuck, trapped in a loop, their minds tethered to one singular thought: the Temple of Erytheia.

    The dream realm was responding to their collective consciousness.

    In this realm, perception shaped reality. One could walk for a month and still remain in the same place. Or with the right state of mind, they could cross an entire continent in mere moments. Time was fickle here¡ªfluid and deceptive.

    Yet, Levi was different.

    Unlike them, he was alone. He had no shared consciousness to ground him.

    Had it not been for the halo of light guiding him, he would have been lost in the shifting tides of the dream realm.

    In the innermost ring of students, a woman with fiery red hair and light blue eyes walked in the same dazed stupor as the others.

    This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

    She looked no older than twenty-five, perhaps thirty. But in this place, age meant little

    "I was thinking of taking Aeliana with me into the dream realm"... she mused bitterly. How foolish I was.

    Aeliana had been left behind, in the safety of Asheville Woods, where a familiar face would watch over her. That had been the right choice. Bringing her here would have been madness.

    She exhaled sharply, adjusting the strap of her pack.

    She had seen this journey before¡ªfelt its weight, suffered its trials. She had reached the Temple of Erytheia once before, but she had arrived on the brink of death. She had been unprepared then. Now, she was walking that same path again.

    She studied the students around her, her gaze lingering on a few familiar faces. Nobles.

    Even drenched in sweat, their posture never wavered. There was no sign of true fatigue in them, no despair, no fear.

    She clenched her teeth.

    "<i>Why is nature so unfair?"</i>

    The thought burned inside her like a brand.

    "<i>Why does this world pretend to be righteous when it is more lawless than any forest?"</i>

    The nobles had been trained for this from infancy. They knew how to endure.

    Even if they lost their way, they would survive for weeks in the dream realm, their instincts honed to recognize its illusions. But for the rest?

    She knew the difference all too well.

    One who knows danger is above them will fight to surpass it. But those who do not even realize they are in danger?

    They walk in circles their entire lives.

    They cling to comfort, never challenging the boundaries of their existence. They waste away, mimicking the same empty habits over and over.

    They are clowns, actors on a stage where the script never changes.

    And when reality finally does strike them?

    It cuts deeper than any blade.

    Levi, unlike them, continued walking alone.

    The halo of light that had guided him flickered, then vanished entirely.

    His surroundings shifted¡ªwarped.

    He found himself standing before an ancient staircase, its steps covered in a thin layer of snow.

    Each step was jagged and uneven, weathered by time, with dark stones peeking through the frost.

    A cold wind howled through the air, whispering unintelligible voices.

    He ascended.

    Step after step.

    The journey felt endless, his boots sinking into the snow, the chill biting at his skin. Yet, he pressed forward.

    At last, the steps ended, and he found himself standing on a vast, flat expanse of dark stone. The ground beneath his feet was rough, ancient, its cracks filled with ice.

    And before him stood, a colossal mountain of black stone, jagged like the fangs of a beast.

    A massive gate loomed at its heart, its surface carved with glowing golden runes. They pulsed faintly, shifting and reshaping like a living script.

    The inscriptions told of forgotten prophecies, of binding contracts with eldritch forces, of the price of entry.

    Those who passed through the gate had to endure.

    Pain. Suffering. Death.

    The fire within the temple roared, a golden inferno, casting long shadows against the stone.

    The heat was suffocating, more intense than any sun Levi had ever known. It pressed against his skin, clawed at his breath.

    Power or annihilation.

    That was the choice before him.

    Figures stood at the entrance, cloaked in black, their faces obscured by darkness. They did not move, did not breathe. Were they priests of an ancient order? Executioners of fate? Guardians of the temple?

    Levi stepped forward, his heartbeat steady.

    "Whatever lay beyond that gate, trial or torment, salvation or ruin, I would face it."

    Because he had already endured pain.

    He had already suffered.

    And if this was the next step to rewriting his fate, then so be it.

    The white halo that Levi had been following vanished, leaving him exposed, his inner self laid bare under the weight of countless unseen gazes.

    He could feel them piercing into his soul, his spirit unraveling as if stripped of all defenses.

    Yet, he did not flinch. He had endured this trial a hundred times before in his dream. He knew what was coming.

    Before him stood twelve figures, their features indistinct, shrouded in shadows that blurred the line between past and present.

    They were mere echoes of those who once were, sovereigns of ages long gone, the guardians who had ruled in their own eras.

    Now, they had gathered for one purpose: to judge the man who dared step forward in the trial to become the next sovereign.

    Becoming a sovereign was no mere feat. It was a fate heavier than death itself.

    One of the figures spoke, his voice cold and unyielding.

    "He is but a boy¡ªa mere child."

    Another shadowed figure growled, laced with suspicion.

    "Who marked him? Who deemed him worthy of this path?"

    A third voice, sharp as a blade, cut through the silence.

    "Does he even comprehend the weight of fate? Can a child bear the burden of the Dream Realm?"

    Their judgment had begun.

 The Sovereign with a Black Heart

    "What a coincidence¡ªthe Domains are about to open, and now a boy marked by one of us appears before us," one of them remarked.

    "He is of my bloodline, yet I did not choose him. I have seen the fates of all who share my lineage," another responded, his voice tinged with unease.

    "And in those visions, I beheld something terrifying¡ªa man with a heart of blackened stone, devoid of even the faintest trace of emotion. A man whose strength stands equal to a Sovereign."

    His gaze darkened as he turned toward the boy before them.

    "And I believe... he is that very same boy still in his youth."

    The atmosphere grew heavy as the weight of Levi''s ancestor''s words settled over the group. The shadows seemed to deepen, and the air itself felt charged with tension.

    The idea that the boy marked by one of them could bear the curse of a dark heart, a heart devoid of emotion, a heart rivaling the strength of a sovereign¡ªwas almost too much to comprehend.

    "Veyrathis, are you certain it was him?" one of the black shadows asked again, their voice trembling with a mix of disbelief and dread. "The marked ones are chosen for their potential to bring balance, not chaos. How could the fates have woven such a thread into our tapestry?"

    Veyrathis, stood silent for a moment, his ancient eyes reflecting the flickering light of the ethereal flames around them.

    His voice, when it finally came, was low and measured, carrying the weight of centuries.

    "I have seen the threads of fate, and they do not lie. The boy before us carries the mark, but his heart... his heart is shrouded in darkness. It is not a mistake, but a convergence of destinies we cannot yet understand. The domains opening, his appearance, the black heart, it is all connected. The fates have chosen him for a purpose, even if we cannot see it."

    Another shadow stirred, their form flickering like a dying flame. "But a heart with no emotion... a soul that cannot feel... how can such a being wield the power of the marked? How can he bring anything but destruction?"

    Veyrathis turned to the speaker, his gaze piercing. "The absence of emotion does not always mean destruction. It can also mean clarity. A heart unburdened by love, fear, or desire can see paths we cannot. Perhaps this is what the fates intend, a force unclouded by the weaknesses of the heart, capable of making choices we would never dare."

    The silence returned, thicker than before. The shadows exchanged uneasy glances, their forms shifting restlessly.

    The idea of a marked one with a black heart was unsettling, but Veyrathis''s words carried a strange, unsettling logic.

    "Then what do we do?" another shadow finally asked, their voice barely above a whisper. "Do we guide him? Do we try to change his fate? Or do we... remove him before he becomes a threat?"

    The Sovereign is the one who leads humanity, living for humans and dying for humans, with pure loyalty and a heart untainted by darkness.

    He is the beacon of every generation, a paragon of righteousness, guiding humanity along the path of virtue and justice. His life is a testament to selflessness, his soul a flame that illuminates the darkest corners of existence.

    But now, standing before them is a boy marked by the essence of a Sovereign, his soul bearing the indelible seal of destiny.

    Yet, his heart is cold, devoid of emotion, a void where compassion for humanity should reside.

    "What should we do now? We all know how the previous Sovereign fell, and we have already lost four domains to our enemy. The stakes have never been higher," one of them murmured, his voice trembling with both fear and resolve.

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    "But this time... it is different. If we choose this boy to be the Sovereign..." The speaker''s words trailed off, hanging in the air like a storm cloud, heavy with unspoken dread. He knew the consequences of such a choice, the risks of placing the fate of humanity in the hands of one who might not even care for it.

    Veyrathis, the wisest among them, stepped forward, his eyes piercing through the shadows of doubt. "Whatever you all decide, it will be his fate. But the first question that must be answered is this: Who marked him? Who saw the potential of a Sovereign in a heart so barren?"

    "I marked him." The voice that responded was neither loud nor harsh, yet it resonated with an eternal, otherworldly power. It was a voice that felt both natural and alien, as if the very fabric of reality had spoken. "Do you have any objections?"

    The scene shifted.

    They now stood within a vast white castle, an expanse of endless halls and towers, all painted in shades of white, yet each surface held a different texture, a different brilliance, as if woven from light itself.

    Before them, near a still pond of water that shimmered with unspoken mysteries, sat a figure draped in black robes.

    The contrast was stark¡ªdarkness seated in the heart of purity.

    At once, every sovereign in attendance bowed, their voices united in reverence.

    "We bow before Archangel Sophion, Lord of the Dream Realm, upon his return."

    Levi, too, recognized the man in black.

    How could he not? This was the being who once asked him a single question¡ª"What do you desire?"

    And Levi had answered without hesitation. "Eternal life."

    That was when it began. The endless cycle. Life. Death. Rebirth. Over and over, he wandered through lifetimes, trapped in the ever-turning wheel of reincarnation.

    Only much later did he come to a chilling realization.

    It had all been a dream.

    Yet what he did not know¡ªwhat he could never have known¡ªwas when this dream would shatter.

    And it would not break until he did the one thing that defied the cycle.

    Until he saved the woman he manipulate.

    Until he protected someone.

    Now, Levi understood everything.

    This being¡ªthe one who had trapped him, never intended to punish him. It had made him experience the highs and lows of existence, forcing him to wander through countless lives. And in the end, the key to awakening from the dream was not power, nor knowledge, nor even eternity.

    It was emotion.

    To care for something, to protect it, not for personal gain, not for self-preservation, but simply because it was worth protecting.

    That was the essence of humanity.

    Every human was born with it, this innate spark of selflessness. But as they grew, they changed¡ªnot by their own will, but by the world around them.

    A child born among thieves would steal. A child raised by diplomats would think, speak, and act like one. People became reflections of the society that shaped them, molded into roles they never chose.

    Levi had been no different. As a child, he had only faint traces of emotion for others. But as he grew, he realized that humans¡ªeverywhere¡ªwere creatures of feeling, driven by their passions, their desires, their fears.

    And so, he used them. Manipulated them. Bent them to his will to achieve his own goals.

    Then the man in black had come to him and asked:

    "What do you desire?"

    Without hesitation, Levi had answered as any rational man would: "Eternal life."

    But reality had struck him harder than he could have ever imagined.

    He had lived and died a hundred thousand times. He had watched suffering unfold¡ªnot just his own, but in the lives of everyone around him. And he saw the great deception of the world:

    Humans, instead of embracing their true nature¡ªto protect, to care, to cherish¡ªbecame puppets. They believed they were free, that they lived in comfort and joy, but it was all an illusion. A mask forced upon them by the expectations of society.

    And now, standing in this endless white castle, surrounded by sovereigns and in the presence of Archangel Sophion, Levi finally saw the truth.

    A slow smile spread across his face. Then he laughed. Loudly. Wildly. Unrestrained.

    The sound echoed through the vast halls, as if mocking the nature themselves.

    He had suffered in the Dream Realm for a hundred thousand years, enduring agony, loss, rebirth just for this one revelation. The answer was vast, infinite in meaning, but he tried to distill it into a single truth.

    And so, with the weight of lifetimes behind his words, Levi spoke:

    "The purpose of human life¡­ is to make this world worth living."

    The man in the black cloak chuckled softly. His voice was like the rustling of pages in an ancient tome, both distant and ever-present.

    "Congratulations," he said. "You have truly awakened from the dream."

    "Do you understand now why I sent you to the Dream Realm?" the Archangel''s voice was calm, yet it carried the weight of eternity. "It was never for your sake alone. This world needs humans like you."

    Levi''s gaze, sharp as steel, lifted toward the gathered sovereigns.

    "Then let us begin," he said, meeting the eyes of those who ruled before him.

    But hesitation lingered in the air.

    "The question still remains," Veyrathis spoke, his voice laced with doubt. "He bears the mark of a Sovereign, but his heart is black."

    Silence followed.

    Then the Archangel''s gaze fell upon him calm, unwavering, absolute.

    "Do you question my judgment?"

    The air turned heavy, the very fabric of the realm trembling beneath those words.

    Veyrathis lowered his head.

    The Archangel turned back to Levi, his voice resounding through the vast halls.

    "He will become the greatest Sovereign of all."

 Trials of the Sovereign

    The gathered Sovereigns, each chosen by the rulers before them, nodded in silent agreement. They knew what this meant.

    A Sovereign chosen by the Archangel himself was beyond precedent. It was a declaration that defied the previous orders.

    And then, the world around Levi shifted once more.

    He now stood before a massive black castle, an ominous fortress stretching beyond sight.

    Its towering presence loomed over him, and before it lay seven colossal gates, each a passage into the very essence of a Sovereign''s power.

    Each gate bore a sigil¡ªan embodiment of the trials he would face.

    On the Seventh Gate, a hammer wreathed in burning flames was engraved into the iron¡ª"The Shattered Veil." It was the gate of Pain.

    On the Sixth Gate, a chain hung broken, a single drop of blood falling from its shattered links¡ª"The Emberforge." It was the gate of Suffering.

    On the Fifth Gate, a great spinning wheel of golden, silver, and black threads wove an unseen pattern¡ª"The Loom of Threads." It was the gate of Fate.

    On the Fourth Gate, a celestial compass was surrounded by a constellation, ever-shifting¡ª"The Starforge Crucible." It was the gate of Destiny.

    And so it continued, each gate leading him deeper into the essence of what it meant to rule.

    But the final gate was not a gate at all.

    At the end of the path stood a throne.

    A great chair, carved from the fabric of the Dream Realm itself, adorned with the sigil of an open book, a glowing eye set upon its cover¡ª"The Seat of Wisdom."

    It was the throne of the Sovereign.

    To sit upon it was to ascend¡ªto become the Protector of the Dream Realm.

    But there was a price.

    A Sovereign could wield limitless power within the Dream Realm, but outside of it, he was nothing without his Domains.

    Each of these seven gates represented a Domain¡ªPain, Suffering, Fate, Destiny, and beyond. They were not mere symbols. They were the limbs and hands of a Sovereign''s power.

    Without them, he was no more than an ordinary man.

    A Sovereign without his Domains was a ruler of dreams¡ªbut powerless in the real world.

    And that was both the blessing and the curse of his existence.

    For what use was a ruler who could not act? A god trapped in a realm of illusions?

    ________

    A vast crowd of students gathered before an ancient temple the temple of Erytheia, its towering presence casting long shadows over the stone courtyard.

    Thousands stood in anxious silence, their gazes fixed on the single colossal gate that loomed before them.

    One by one, students approached the gate, stepping forward into the unknown.

    In a secluded corner, Elyra meticulously recorded their names, her quill moving with practiced precision.

    She noted every reaction, the ones who showed fear, those who hesitated, and the unfortunate few who failed the trial before it even began.

    Each time a student neared the sealed gate, an ominous sigil ignited upon its surface¡ªa hammer engulfed in flames.

    It was the mark of The Shattered Veil.

    The moment they stepped too close, the gate unleashed its aura upon them in crimson red color, and in an instant, they were trapped¡ªdragged into a dream that was theirs alone to endure.

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    What they faced inside, no one knew.

    But the results were clear.

    Commoner students, unprepared and lacking the knowledge to resist, merely closed their eyes for what felt like a fleeting moment. Yet when they opened them again, terror was painted across their faces.

    Their breath came in sharp gasps, and their steps faltered as they instinctively retreated, unable to bear the unseen horrors within.

    But the noble students, the ones born into power, raised in halls of knowledge and discipline, stood firm. They did not yield to the oppressive aura.

    When they refused to submit, the gate opened before them.

    And as their reward, the aura that once sought to crush them was instead absorbed into their very bodies.

    The Shattered Veil was no mere test. It was a forge of suffering, weaving illusions so harrowing that only those with unyielding resolve could withstand them.

    Pain beyond imagination. Suffering beyond comprehension.

    Only those who faced fear, not as victims but as conquerors, would be deemed worthy.

    Among them, a select few, the finest of the noble seedlings, completed the trial in record time. The five fastest to endure the ordeal would be granted an honor far beyond simple passage.

    They would ascend.

    Marked by the Shattered Veil, these chosen students became Marked Echoes, a status that set them apart from all others.

    A crimson-red aura surged into their bodies, seeping into their very being, tempering flesh, muscle, bones, and blood.

    Even their nerves and spirit were reforged, reshaped into something greater.

    This was their beginning.

    Their first step toward a power that few would ever attain.

    Elrya knew that nobles possessed knowledge beyond the grasp of commoners, secrets that gave them an undeniable advantage. This was why their success rate in the trials far exceeded that of commoners.

    Among the commoners, only a rare few survived the Shattered Veil and its nightmarish ordeals. But for the nobles, nearly three out of four emerged as Echoes, their passage through the trial almost assured.

    Seated at her desk, pen scratching against parchment, Elrya meticulously recorded each student''s fate, not just to sell the news only, but for herself also. She needed this knowledge.

    If she wanted to fight the system that hoarded the key to survival, she had to understand it first.

    Yet, in her frustration, she almost forgot, she needed to keep an eye on the sky within the Dream Realm. There was something there, something she could not afford to miss.

    Meanwhile, Dorian had yet to take the trial. He was waiting, despite the odds, despite the near impossibility of what he hoped for.

    He waited because his friend had told him to. And for Dorian, that was reason enough

    "Young master, when will you take the trial? Half the students have already gone through it," Anderson said, watching the boy who looked like Levi.

    "Wait," Levi replied, his gaze locked onto the sky. A frown settled on his face as a thought crept into his mind. "<i>I shouldn''t have believed that Veyrathis brat... By now, a beast is probably feasting on his corpse."</i>

    "<i>That boy had claimed a constellation in the shape of an eye would appear in the Dream Realm, signaling the opening of the Domains. And yet, nothing had happened."</i>

    Levi let out a sigh, rubbing his temples. "<i>And now, thanks to that boy''s ''main character syndrome,'' we have to leave Kalimaru too."</i>

    He muttered, frustration seeping into his tone. "If he enjoys playing the hero so much, he should just join a theater troupe."

    His form flickered for a brief moment, Kael Aeltheryn, disguised as Levi, clenched his jaw. Curse that boy. His expression shifted through a myriad of emotions¡ªanger, frustration, and finally, outright disgust.

    Dorian, who had been watching quietly, noticed the subtle changes in "Levi''s" face. A cold sweat formed on his palms. Something''s wrong with him..

    Before he could speak, a voice cut through his thoughts.

    "You should worry about yourself," a sharp voice remarked.

    Dorian turned, locking eyes with a boy, white hair, jet-black eyes, piercing gaze, and a chiseled jawline, Lysander Draymoor.

    Recognition flickered in Dorian''s mind. It was him. The same boy from yesterday''s gathering, the one who had brazenly inserted himself into the conversation with him and Levi.

    Dorian narrowed his eyes. "Why should I care? I will awaken an Order 4 talent, no doubt.

    "Instead, Lysander, you should watch your tongue, you''re always meddling in others'' business."

    Lysander smirked. "Oh? Have I become a threat, Dorian?"

    A chuckle echoed behind them. Garrett, standing among the gathered nobles, folded his arms and said mockingly, "And what will you do, Lysander, if Dorian awakens an order 4 talent?"

    Lysander''s smirk faded. His expression hardened, and he took a step forward.

    "If he even awakens an Order 5 Echo Talent, I, Lysander Draymoor, swear on my ancestors'' name¡ªI will give him 2000 Solari," he declared, confidence gleaming in his eyes.

    A hush fell over the gathered nobles

    2000 Solari.

    The weight of that number rippled through the crowd. Even among nobles, that was a staggering sum.

    Solari, the gold coins roughly the size of a human thumb, were the standard of wealth, while Paleons, the smaller silver coins, were used for everyday transactions.

    Solari carried immense value, a symbol of true prosperity, whereas Paleons were the more common currency of the people.

    For most, earning even a single Solari per week was considered fortunate. Yet here was Lysander, wagering 2000 Solari as if it were a casual gamble.

    Whispers erupted. Nobles who had been merely observing now turned their full attention to the conversation.

    "Is he mad?" someone murmured.

    "Even a bet of 100 Solari would have been absurd¡­" another voice chimed in.

    After all, 1,000 Solari was a lifetime''s fortune for some nobles, and for commoners enough to sustain their entire household for years.

    Yet here, 2000 Solari was being thrown into a bet as if it were mere pocket change.