Chapter Three: Prince of the Void

  Before the harrowing scene of that mysterious void, Tayren froze in pce like a stone statue, staring at those creatures… or rather, that creature — whatever that insane thing was.

  “What in the name of the Creator is this?” he murmured under his breath, as the shadows of madness loomed all around. This didn’t feel like any known region — it was more like a vivid dream uncharted on any map, or a nightmare no human had ever dared to enter.

  People often spoke of four worlds: the basic world where they lived, two other distinct ones, and the vast fourth — considered the “Mother World” for its size, diverse terrains, and ancient history. Long ago, the kings of the great cns had tried to discover new realms beyond those four, but they had always failed. All they’d found — or at least told the public — was that the four worlds were mysteriously connected.

  Tayren, standing in stunned silence before the shifting darkness, slowly raised his head. What he saw made the blood in his veins freeze: skulls stacked upon skulls, forming walls and fences. Some were buried in the ground as foundation pilrs, others opened their mouths in eternal, silent screams… a torment without end, an echo of eversting pain that crawled up his spine like fire through dry straw.

  At the peak of his shock, a voice called from behind:

  “My prince…”

  “Huh?” he tried to hide his surprise, but his expression betrayed him for a second.

  Then — as if a storm of shards exploded in his mind — memories? No, not memories, but chunks of them, flooding his senses all at once: taste, smell, touch, emotion… things he had never lived, yet they pierced into his being like needles. His face paled for a heartbeat, but within, he had lived years in a single moment.

  He spoke in a trembling voice:

  “I… I’m the Prince of the Void?”

  Then he stepped back:

  “No, I’m Tayren. My name is Tayren. I’m not him… that’s just a character… my Origin.”

  He muttered:

  “By the void… those fools spreading tales about the Call of Origin never mentioned this kind of confusion, these memories… that storm of memory… damn bastards.”

  After a moment of silence, he said:

  “Yes, knight.”

  “My lord?” the man asked in surprise.

  “Damn, I forgot his name… Iron, yes — Iron. He was the prince’s closest companion in this wreckage.”

  He smiled, “Just kidding.”

  Iron replied seriously:

  “My lord, wait… I told you not to approach the void again. I don’t mean to be rude, but… don’t ever try to listen to its whispers.”

  “Alright, alright… I get it. So I’m a prince, huh? Very well. If I survive this trial, I’ll make every noble I meet kneel before me: ‘Kneel, peasant, for you speak to the Prince of the Void!’”

  But then… the whispers returned.

  Old tones, strange, deep — as if they belonged to a time outside this universe.

  He felt a detonation in his mind, then a halt… a strange sensation! Was it affection? Motherhood? No… it felt like fatherhood!

  Does the void have a gender? Is it… masculine?

  He forcibly halted his thoughts. Took a deep breath. Turned his back to that cursed hill.

  A hill? How petty… He had just seen the void itself. The entire pce felt like it had been struck by an ancient curse.

  As he walked, he asked Iron:

  “Where are we going again?”

  “Ah… forgot already?”

  Iron cleared his throat, feigning seriousness:

  “We're heading back to the Summit — to the Seal of the Void. Since your elder brother became the High General, he decided to send some aid… so you can continue your life here.”

  Tayren thought, sarcastically:

  “Aid, huh?”