Lyrax stood by the balcony, the torchlight flickering against his face, the night wind brushing through his hair. His voice carried slowly, heavy, like something drawn out from the depths of memory.
Lyrax: "The Grand Era… it was a time when Tideborns, kings, and tribes all fought for the ultimate power. A mythical force said to hold the ability to change the world itself. No one truly knew what that power was, but it was written in myth—hidden, unreachable. A place that can only be found by connecting dots along an adventure."
He paused, eyes narrowing at the distant mountains as if they still carried echoes of that age.
Lyrax: "But that adventure… to reach the mythical power, follows steps. You must gather the old temple texts and histories scattered across Winland. Piece by piece, they guide the way. And finally, you arrive at the place of ritual—beneath the cave waters, where an island shaped like turtle and elephant statues rises, a mirror of Winland itself. When you bathe under those waters… You become ready to enter another world."
Auren's eyes sharpened, voice low and tense.Auren: "Another world? What is it?"
Lyrax drew in a soft breath, leaning forward against the cold railing. His tone grew quieter, but heavier.
Lyrax: "The world outside Winland. The world of new lands. When you bathe under that water, you break the seal… the seal of the Grand Era. A seal that locked Winland away—so no one could enter, and no one could leave."
The air between them grew heavy. The flames below wavered, and Auren listened in silence, his chest tight with unease.
Lyrax's eyes softened for a moment, though his words struck with weight.
Lyrax: "Listen, Auren. Who Ash Phantom was, and what he did… it does not matter now. You are Auren, a mage. Focus on what you can do and what you want to do. Ash Phantom's deeds in that era remain a question. But what we know now is this—Auren, you are the hope of the forgotten. Born again to finish what you failed before. Figure it out. Read the histories. Travel across Winland. Study the architects. Bathe under the waterfall's water… and step into the other world. That is your destiny."
His gaze darkened, voice like stone.Lyrax: "To tell the Grand Era too simply… is to disrespect it."
Auren nodded."I will travel and discover it for myself. Let's start that journey now."
Lyrax raised a hand."Wait. You need to train yourself more, you understand?"
Auren shook his head."You said I am leaving. Before that, I want to read this temple's architect… the carvings, the drawings. I want to know what's hidden here."
Lyrax smiled faintly. The wind stirred through the balcony pillars, scattering dust across the floor."I will tell you about it. Ask what you wish to know."
Auren's gaze hardened."First of all, who is that man drawn at the main gate of Baku City? The same painting I see here in this temple. He's fighting some kind of flying monster."
Lyrax breathed deeply, lifting his eyes toward the golden rays falling across the roof."He is Winland's legend… Mahavanga."
Auren's face darkened."Mahavanga? Who is he?"
Lyrax's voice lowered, carrying the weight of forgotten history."Mahavanga lived in the Grand Era. Twice, he protected Winland… from the Third World."
Auren chuckled bitterly, rubbing his temples."Wait, wait… what is this 'Third World'? How big is this world? Another land, another world, Ash Phantom, and now this Mahavanga—hold on, let me just breathe."
Lyrax laughed softly, his voice echoing in the temple's silence."Haha… the world has always been the same, Auren. Only the people of Winland remain blind to it. The Third World is no myth—it lies at the bottom of the ocean, where the beasts of the highest caliber dwell."
Also called the Sealed Gods—if you look down into their world, they don't seem so large. But the higher they rise, the closer they come to the surface, the bigger they grow. And when they finally break through to the sky… they are vast enough to blanket entire cities.
Each beast is different. They do not breathe, they do not age—it is as if they are immortal. Their way of life is nothing but challenge and slaughter, killing each other endlessly in the Third World.
Among them, there exist some greater than the rest—the Alpha Beasts. These are the ones that can rise beyond the Earth itself. And when they reach above the Earth… they swell until they are bigger than the Earth itself. No force can stop them, because the higher a beast climbs, the greater the power it achieves.
That is why most beasts remain trapped in the depths, never able to reach the surface of our world.
****
Auren's mouth hung wide open. He did not find words, only a stunned silence, and in his eyes was the same single thought written again and again—wow.
"So Mahavanga…" he whispered at last, his voice carrying disbelief, "was he truly so strong… that he killed every beast that came from the Third World?"
Lyrax gave him a long look, as if weighing the weight of his question, and then answered slowly, "Yes. You could say that… yes."
But then Lyrax's voice dropped lower, and his tone shifted. "Yet Mahavanga was not alone."
Auren's eyes narrowed. "Not alone?"
Lyrax nodded. "With him stood another… a main pillar of Winland's survival. He guarded this land as fiercely as Mahavanga did. His name…" Lyrax paused, fell silent for a heartbeat, as though the very memory demanded reverence. Then he continued, "…was Ryuki. The legend himself. An orphan with no family, no clan, yet he rose to rule—not just Ryuki City, but all of Winland."
Auren leaned forward, his breath caught.
"Mahavanga and Ryuki," Lyrax went on, "were brothers not by blood, but by bond. Mahavanga was the Guardian of the Turtle Map, the sacred artifact said to hold the pathways of the entire Winland. Ryuki was the ruler, the voice that united its cities. But when the beasts of the Third World clawed their way to the surface, hungering for sky and soil, it was not ruler and guardian who stood there—it was simply two friends, shoulder to shoulder."
"And they won?" Auren asked.
"They came out victorious," Lyrax said. His eyes darkened as memories surfaced, and his words began to paint the battle itself.
The first of the beasts were massive—scales that glowed like molten rock, eyes that burned with star-fire, and wings that blotted the sun as they rose higher and higher. Their roars shook mountains, their steps cracked rivers. They were immortals of hunger, never resting, never breathing the way mortals did, only killing and challenging one another in endless contests of dominance. And when they came to Winland, they came not as wanderers—but as conquerors.
Mahavanga's strength was raw earth given form. He wielded a great hammer carved from the core of the mountains, and with each strike, the ground thundered like storms. He broke horns, crushed jaws, and shattered the bones of beasts larger than fortresses. Yet even in his fury, he fought with control, never letting rage consume him.
Beside him, Ryuki fought with a blade that gleamed like moonlight. His swordsmanship was nothing of mortal schools—it was speed, precision, and spirit entwined. Where Mahavanga crushed, Ryuki cut. Where Mahavanga stood immovable like a wall, Ryuki moved like lightning, weaving through wings and claws, his strikes sharp enough to bleed even immortal hides.
The two did not fight as separate warriors. They moved as one.
When a beast lunged at Mahavanga, Ryuki was already there, his blade flashing to blind its eye. When another tried to flank Ryuki, Mahavanga's hammer came crashing down, a blow that turned bones into dust. Together, they broke the endless tide, one monster after another falling beneath their bond.
The sky itself darkened from the swarm of wings, but still the two friends did not falter. Mahavanga stood in the front lines, roaring like thunder, drawing the beasts to him. Ryuki became a shadow among shadows, cutting through the chaos, striking at the vital points with merciless accuracy. And as the beasts fell, Winland's people—hidden and trembling—saw in them more than warriors. They saw hope.
Auren could almost see it now, in the way Lyrax spoke—the rivers choked with fallen scales, the earth painted black with the blood of immortals, the air ringing with the unyielding cry of two men who refused to let their home fall.
And when the last alpha beast rose, towering above even mountains, Ryuki and Mahavanga stood together for the final time in that war. One raised his sword, the other his hammer.
"They struck as one," Lyrax said softly, his voice fading into awe. "And in that strike, the sky itself broke."
Auren sat frozen, his heart hammering in his chest. He could only whisper again, "Wow…"
I WANT TO become strong LIKE THEM....
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