A golden glow filled the dim room—not from candlelight, nor the shy kiss of sunrise.
It came from Eris Vale.
He sat cross-legged in the middle of his chamber, shoulders slightly hunched, bare feet pressing into the thick carpet that did little to block the morning chill seeping through the floor. The air was still, the kind of quiet that only existed before the world truly woke up. Outside, the wind nudged the curtains, making them sway like the slow breath of someone lost in sleep.
Eris's eyes were closed. His breaths came deep and measured, each exhale curling into the silence like a soft whisper. Beneath his skin, something pulsed—faint, rhythmic, alive. Light bled from him in quiet waves, golden and warm, as if his body was holding onto the last light of yesterday's sun.
His hands rested on his knees, fingers relaxed—but trembling just slightly.
He wasn't meditating for peace.
He was holding something in.
Then, with a faint shimmer, the glow intensified.
Eris's eyes snapped open. He raised one hand into the air and stared.
From his palm, light bled—golden with streaks of crimson-amber, like liquified sunrise wrapped in the warmth of autumn flame. The energy pulsed gently, almost as if breathing with him.
"…Is that all?" he muttered, a tired smirk playing at his lips. "I nearly died yesterday… and it's barely Grade 1."
The energy flickered and dissipated into particles that faded like embers in the wind. He lowered his hand and leaned back slightly, letting out a sigh that carried more weight than it should've for a boy of 10 years old.
But he wasn't just a boy.
A memory stirred, vivid and burning—
Back in Arkenterra, the most fantastic fantasy VRMMO ever built, In the Game, players didn't just choose their class—but they decided on a Core.
There were four types of cores. Each shaped you for a different path. Each path defined a player's Character.
Purity. The white core. Chosen by Clerics, Paladins, and Holy Knights—those who stood in the light.
Poison. The violet core. Claimed by Alchemists, Plaguecasters, Rogues—masters of toxins and Assasins.
Corruption. The dark, writhing core. The choice of Necromancers, Warlocks, and Demonbloods—those who embraced the abyss.
Equilibrium. A shifting silver core. Chosen by Sages, Aura Knights, and Mystic Blades—those who sought perfect harmony.
Most players chose one: some, two—at best. To take on more was to risk stagnation. A new core means starting from scratch and mastering new abilities, while your old ones may be hindered. Even the top-tier players feared that trade-off.
But I was different.
Hiroto Kurogane, among 2.3 billion Users, was the only player who had chosen all four Cores.
Not recklessly—but deliberately.
First Purity, then Poison. Next, Corruption. Finally, Equilibrium.
I mastered each core through relentless training, quests, dungeons, and PvP wars. While others feared imbalance, I embraced it—and fused them all.
The result… was something beyond My comprehension.
A new power.
It was a Force that was the synthesis of contradiction and perfection.
A force that adapted, morphed, absorbed, and countered.
A power that made me an all-rounder—unreadable in battle, unpredictable in war, unbreakable in duels.
I called it…
Eden Force.
Not named for the paradise it represented—but for the origin it symbolized. The core of all cores. The final garden of power where all paths converged.
"…Back in Arkenterra," Eris muttered, his voice laced with bitterness, "I could use it like it was second to none."
He paused, staring at his hands.
Here, they were smaller. Softer. No calluses. No scars from thousands of hours swinging blades, casting spells, or fighting raid bosses.
"...Well, can't be helped. This body's still a child," he said, flicking a strand of hair from his forehead. "I should Take One step at a time, I guess."
He shifted his legs, exhaled again, and leaned back until he was lying flat on the floor. The wooden ceiling above stared back at him blankly.
"At least I can train Eden Force's proficiency through practical use. Slowly and increase its sync rate with this body… But…"
His brows furrowed.
"I can't just show this to anyone. At least until I am strong Enough
Silence returned.
Then—a knock.
Knock. Knock.
"...Young Master," a soft voice came from behind the door. Female. Polite. "I have a message for you. May I come in?"
Eris flinched, groaned, and scrambled up like a child caught napping during sword drills.
It was Maria.
His maid. She was… painfully formal, annoyingly punctual, and had a habit of arriving exactly when Eris wanted silence most.
"Y-Yeah," he called out, clearing his throat. "Come in. The door's unlocked."
The door creaked open, revealing a girl. She wore the traditional maid uniform of Mist Palace—elegant but modest, with silver trimming and a blue ribbon tying back her auburn hair. Her amber eyes immediately spotted Eris sitting on the floor like a lazy cat.
Maria blinked. "Young Master… why are you on the floor?"
"...I was doing Meditation to refine my Aura," Eris replied flatly.
"You have Awakened Aura?"
Eris froze for a second.Oh shit... I wasn't supposed to say that.
Maria stepped inside, her expression unreadable.
Maria raised an eyebrow ever so slightly. She said nothing more about it, which only made it worse.
Instead, she continued with her usual calm voice as if peeling off the top layer of a trap. "I came to deliver a message from Lady Renessa. Lord Kaelen and Lord Laelyn will be visiting Mist Palace today."
Eris blinked. "...Huh?"
She clarified without missing a beat.
For a moment, the air felt thinner.
The name Kaelen.
The name Laelyn.
Eris's pupils narrowed.
His breath paused—and then, just like a snapped thread—
Flashback.
Past Life —
Ironvale Palace Courtyard.
Two younger siblings stood under the afternoon sun, two male mirror images, proud and cruel. Kaelen's silver-blonde hair fluttered as he stood over a bruised Eris, wooden sword in hand, grinning like a young conqueror. Beside him, Laelyn brushed back his long braid and chuckled, elegant yet vicious.
"Oops," he said sweetly, nudging Eris's ribs with her foot. "Did that strike hurt, Brother?"
"No," Kaelen added, "he probably doesn't feel pain. After all, he's trash. He's used to it."
The crowd of servants said nothing. No one ever did.
They would visit without notice—sometimes with the excuse of "training," other times just because they were bored. No reason. No mercy.
And the original Eris… had endured it all, silently, helplessly.
Back to Present
"…I see," Eris muttered.
A quiet pause followed.
Then—his lip curled, not in fear.
But in a smile.
A slow, dangerous, predatory smile.
"Tell me, Maria," he said, standing up and brushing dust off his robe, "exactly when are the twins arriving?"
"They are expected to arrive by late noon, Young Master," she replied, eyeing him cautiously.
"Perfect." Eris stretched his arms like a cat waking from a nap. "Then let's get ready, shall we?"
Maria blinked. "Pardon?"
He gave her an innocent look. "My younger siblings are visiting. Shouldn't I at least prepare to greet them properly?"
In her mind, Maria froze. What is he thinking…? This boy used to tremble just hearing their names, and now he's casually preparing for their arrival.
She gave a stiff bow and backed out. "I… will go make the arrangements."
As the door closed behind her, silence returned.
Eris cracked his neck, rolled his shoulders, and grinned like a wolf denied meat for too long.
"God, thank you," he whispered, fire flickering behind his eyes. "I was just hoping for a sparring partner today… and you sent me two punching bags."
His hand ignited in golden-crimson threads of power—Eden Force awakening.
"I'll make sure to return all those memories… one blow at a time."
Near the Outskirts of Azma City
The four-wheeled carriage rattled noisily down the dust-caked path leading toward Azma City. Polished to a mirror gleam and lined with golden trim, it looked comically out of place amid the worn roads and ivy-covered stone walls of the outskirts.
Inside, a boy with sharp eyes and soft gold hair peered out the window, nose wrinkling in disgust.
"So this is Azma City?" he scoffed. "Tch. I've seen livestock pens with better planning. Even the air smells like peasantry."
Across from him sat his twin Brother, brushing lint off his designer sleeves. "Kaelen, you're being generous. It's even worse than a remote territory. And to think… our dear brother lives in this forgotten corner of the map."
"Don't remind me," Kaelen growled. "I'm already nauseous."
Their insults carried them to the gates of Mist Palace. Servants waited with heads bowed. And in front of them stood Eris.
Composed. Straight-backed. Calm as a still lake.
Kaelen stepped down first, twirling his blade lazily in one hand. "Well, well, brother… You haven't died yet. That's a surprise."
Laelyn followed, her smile sweet but eyes cruel. "We heard you've been training. How impressive. We were worried the rats here would eat you before you learned how to hold a sword."
Eris only offered a short bow.
"I'm very well," he said softly. "Thanks to the care of the loyal servants here. I owe them very much."
Kaelen clicked his tongue and approached. "Is that so? But something's off…"
He reached forward suddenly—grabbing Eris's collar and yanking him forward.
"…Why aren't you kneeling, brother?" he hissed, eyes narrowing. "Why are you daring to meet my eyes?"
Eris didn't flinch.
"My apologies," he replied flatly. "I was training recently and… had a minor accident. My knees haven't recovered. Please forgive me For the Lack of ethics ."
Kaelen's brows twitched, fists tightening. Just as he raised his hand to strike—
"Kaelen," Laelyn cut in smoothly, placing a hand on his brother's shoulder. "Let's not bruise him before the warm-up."
He turned to Eris. "So… you've improved, have you? Then how about a little friendly sparring? Just like old times. I would love to see How much you've grown while we were away ."
Eris clenched his jaw behind a mask of calm.
"signed, they haven't changed at all. They are just as described in the Eris Memories.
Kaelen and Laelyn Vale.
The genius twins. Younger than me by a few months, yet far more accomplished in the eyes of the nobles. They are known as the Twin Swords among young nobles. Both of them reached Grade 2 within a year and a half after Awakening their Aura.
But more than that… they were the ones who bullied the Original Eris the most in his past life.
They would often visit under the guise of family bonding and Sparring sessions. Practice matches. In those "Sparings," they would beat and torment Eris until he completely broke down and lost consciousness.
He remembered the laughter, the pain, and The helpless rage.
And now… here they were again.
Mocking him like nothing had changed.
Eris exhaled through his nose, hiding the fire inside. Then smiled.
"Oh, I'd be honored to learn from my genius siblings."
They made their way to the training grounds—cobblestone was cleared for sparring, ringed with old pillars and spectators from the estate. Maria stood nearby, arms crossed, visibly tense.
Kaelen stepped forward with a smirk. "are you Ready, My dear brother?"
Eris stretched his arms lazily. "Actually," he said casually, "why don't you both come at me?"
They are blinking. "...What?"
Laelyn tilted her head, his expression sharpening. "Are you out of your mind?"
Eris grinned, eyes gleaming with quiet defiance. "No."
Eris smiled wider, voice tilting slightly arrogant. "Well, if I fight you together, I get to learn from two geniuses at once. Isn't it very Efficient this way, right?"
Then, with playful sarcasm—
"Or… are you afraid I'll beat you down?"
Maria sighed under her breath. "He's lost it. I'll get the healing potions ready."
Kaelen and Laelyn's faces twisted with rage.
"You arrogant little—! Fine. I was going to go easy on you, but if you want to get beaten to a pulp, I'll Gladly grant your wish!"
The twins exploded into motion.
Kaelen slashed his swords. Eris dodged the slash.
Laelyn came in from the side. He parried his sword.
Blades rang. Dust kicked up. The air in the Training hall trembled.
"You're just dodging!" Laelyn yelled. "What happened to that big mouth from a minute ago?!"
Eris didn't respond. In his head, he analyzed them calmly.
Impressive. Their footwork, blade style, and positioning… they are talented.
They deserve to be called a genius for their age
The old Eris would've struggled even to block an Attack.
He pivoted. His stance changed.
But Regretfully, I'm not him.
Suddenly—a golden aura with crimson-amber flames erupted from his body.
Gasps echoed across the yard.
"What—?!"
"Is that… is that Aura?!"
Maria's eyes widened. "So… he awakened it..."
Kaelen reeled back. "Wait, when did you awaken your Aura?!"
Laelyn squinted. "That's..."
"Who cares?" Kaelen snarled. "It's probably Grade 1. "He's still nothing but trash compared to us !"
They released their auras—vivid, refined, powerful. Twin blades slashed forward.
But this time…
Eris didn't dodge.
He advanced.
Kaelen's blade aimed for his shoulder.
Eris grabbed it barehanded—his golden-crimson energy repelling the attack.
"What—?!"
A punch slammed into Kaelen's ribs. Eris's fist buried itself deep into Kaelen's ribs—faster than a blink and sharper than a whip.
Kaelen's eyes widened, breath stolen from his lungs as his body lifted off the ground.
He crashed into the stone wall with a thunderous thud, the impact spiderwebbing the surface behind him. Dust rained down.
For a moment, silence.
Laelyn screamed—more fury than fear—and unleashed a flurry of razor-sharp Aura slashes.
Blades of wind and light carved through the air, each one deadly, each one precise.
But Eris was already moving.
He side-stepped the first and ducked beneath the second, his body weaving between the strikes like water slipping through cracks. His final slash came wide—and Eris moved in.
With ruthless precision, he pivoted and drove his heel straight into his leg.
A sickening crack tore through the room.
Laelyn's breath hitched. His eyes widened in disbelief as his leg buckled.
He crumpled to the ground, his elegant form collapsing with a graceless thud.
His screams fell silent, replaced by the cold tremble of pain—and the sound of his pride shattering.
"No more running," Eris whispered.
His fists moved like thunder. He didn't use elegant swordplay.
He used violence.
Not rage. Nor desperation.
Deliberate and cold violence.
Each movement was precise—surgical in its cruelty, detached in its execution.
This wasn't a brawl anymore. It was a demonstration.
One by one, he snapped fingers like twigs beneath Eris's grip.
Knees gave out with wet, sickening crunches.
Arms twisted in directions nature never intended.
The twins shrieked—once proud nobles once hailed as prodigies.
Now reduced to whimpering wrecks, flailing helplessly beneath a calm they couldn't comprehend.
Not a word from Eris. Not a scowl. Not a breath was wasted.
Only silence... and the sound of breaking things.
"PLEASE STOP!" Kaelen screamed, tears streaming down his face.
"PLEASE!!" Laelyn cried, voice cracking from agony and disbelief.
But monsters don't grant mercy.
Especially not the kind they created themselves.
Footsteps echoed.
A knight, armored in black, burst into the courtyard. "YOUNG MASTER, STOP!"
Eris ignored him. Kaelen was coughing blood. Laelyn curled like a dying flower.
The knight gritted his teeth and used his Aura—silver and heavy—to lash around Eris and yank him back.
"Young master, please… if you continue, I will be forced to report this to the Duke."
Eris stopped.
Then turned.
His gaze—calm moments ago—now radiated pure killing intent.
The knight froze mid-step. His breath caught.
A chill coiled down his spine, sweat beading on the back of his neck.
That Aura—it wasn't just overwhelming.
It was unnatural. Suffocating. Like standing beneath a collapsing sky.
No…
That wasn't the presence of a boy.
That was killing intent—raw, refined, and Pure evil and violent.
He was shocked to feel that From a child.
Eris stood in the middle of the wreckage, the broken twins moaning behind him, barely conscious.
"… I'm sorry," he said at last, voice flat, almost bored. His eyes blinked slowly—unbothered, distant. "I got… carried away."
Then he turned.
No gloating. No second glance.
He walked past the knight as if nothing had happened—like the screams were just background noise.
The knight staggered into motion, snapping out of the trance. "Get the healers," he barked. "Now!"
As servants scrambled to obey, one figure remained still.
Maria, arms crossed, expression unreadable.
She watched Eris's fading back, then whispered—more to herself than anyone else:
"…He has changed."
Meanwhile…
Far from Azma City, in a towering black citadel—
A knight knelt inside a vast throne room, head bowed before a man seated on a dark throne. His armor glinted like Obsidian Black. A long sword rested against his shoulder.
The man's golden Blond hair spilled behind him like a lion's mane.
"My lord," the knight said, breathless. "I have to Bring News from Mist Palace. It's about The Fourth Young Lord… It seems he awakened his Aura."
The man's eyes gleamed. "...And?"
"He… defeated the twins, my lord. Broke them."
A pause.
Then, a smile.
"...Did the Fourth… do that?"
He leaned forward slightly.
"…Interesting."
End of Chapter 6