Verdelith Kingdom — Deep Within the Forest
Crunch… crunch…
Footsteps echoed softly through the dense underbrush.
An old man, lean yet sturdy despite his age, walked calmly beneath the towering trees. His weathered hands clutched a small bundle of herbs, and a simple hunting spear hung across his back.
He had just finished gathering medicine and trapping small game when—
"...auh... auh..."
He froze.
A sound — faint, fragile.
The cry of a child.
"…A newborn? Out here?"
His brows furrowed. No sane soul would leave a child in this place.
Guided by instinct, he followed the sound deeper into the forest. The cries grew louder.
"Auh… Auh…"
Then he saw it.
A newborn, wrapped in dark black cloth, lying quietly on a patch of moss. No parents. No footprints. No aura.
Just silence... and the child's wail piercing it.
The old man's heart clenched. Slowly, he knelt and lifted the child into his arms.
The crying stopped.
The newborn opened his eyes.
Dark—so dark they swallowed the light—yet beautiful. Calm. Endless.
Eyes like the void between stars.
The old man stared, stunned. Something ancient stirred in the gaze of that child.
And then he heard a voice, like the breath of the Cosmos itself:
> "By root and bone, by ash and breath,
A wail was heard through forest death.
No beast did stir, no wind did roam,
When shadowed stars gazed down from home."
"Laid upon moss, not born — but cast,
A child of silence from the Vast.
Eyes of void, not made for light,
Where time dissolves and gods take fright."
"Let none speak name, let none draw near,
For what was found, the stars now fear.
He comes not from womb, nor flame, nor seed…
But from the wound where heavens bleed."
"...Ashriel Ashveil," the old man murmured, as if the name had always been there, waiting to be spoken.
---
Sixteen Years Later
The chirping of morning birds echoed softly through the trees, harmonizing with the rustling leaves carried by the breeze.
Inside an old, worn-out hut, a young man slowly opened his eyes — dark as obsidian, calm and unreadable. A breeze drifted through the open window, tousling his messy black hair that reached his neck in gentle waves.
"Huh? Morning already...?" he muttered groggily.
This young man was Ashriel Ashveil.
An orphan with no family, no name to rely on, and no background to protect him. He had been raised by an old man who passed away nine months ago, leaving behind nothing but memories and this quiet, crumbling hut.
But Ashriel never complained.
He had no one to complain to.
Stepping outside, the morning sunlight spilled across his face. For once, his lips curled into a faint smile. He was in a good mood.
Today, he turned sixteen.
In the world of Xelvaris, turning sixteen was more than just a birthday — it was a rite of passage. At this age, every living being awakened the gift of the universe:
The Cosmic Mark.
A mysterious interface granted to all, marking the beginning of one's cultivation journey — their talent, potential, and fate laid bare by the stars themselves.
Ashriel had waited years for this moment.
But first… "Let's bathe," he mumbled.
"He wouldn't sit around waiting for the mark to awaken." He needed a clear mind and a clean body.
He walked toward the nearby river — just five minutes away. Stripping off his clothes, he stepped into the water. His frame was lean but strong, honed through years of hunting and survival. His skin, tanned from constant exposure to the sun and wind, told the story of a life lived far from comfort.
The water shimmered beneath the morning light as he washed. Once clean, he grabbed a fishing rod and cast his line into the quiet stream.
Before long, with a modest catch in hand, he returned to the hut and prepared a simple fish curry — a recipe passed down by the old man.
After eating, Ashriel sat cross-legged on a fur mat, hands resting on his knees.
He closed his eyes.
He wasn't cultivating — not yet. He was simply reciting an old mantra taught by the old man. A chant not meant for power, but for peace.
A moment of stillness.
Then—
A sudden warmth coiled around his body.
The wind stopped. The birds fell silent.
And from the sky came a distant chime — soft, ancient, and cosmic, like the stars themselves had spoken.
DING—!
⟪━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━⟫
COSMIC MARK – Optimization in Progress
[1% Synced with Host]
[20%...]
[50%...]
[90%...]
ERROR
ERROR
ERROR
< Unique Conditions Detected… >
< Anomalies Detected. Host Potential Exceeds Universal Norm. Proceed With Caution. >
< Host Bloodline: [UNKNOWN] ❓❓❓❓❓ — Awakening in Progress >
< ??? >
⟪━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━⟫
"Huh…?"
Ashriel's eyes widened.
"Unique? Anomaly? UNKNOWN bloodline…?"
"What the fu—"
His words were cut off by pain.
Blinding. Burning. Unbearable.
It felt like molten lava had been poured into his veins — like his flesh was being melted and reforged from the inside out.
"AAAHHHHHHHH—!!"
He collapsed.
His vision blurred. His screams echoed through the trees.
And then—
Darkness.
---
Time passed.
Ashriel slowly opened his eyes again, gasping for breath. His body was covered in thick, black goo — foul and sticky, like something purged from deep within.
His muscles ached. His bones throbbed. His entire body felt broken.
And then… he saw it.
Floating silently before him—
⟪━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━⟫
COSMIC MARK – SYSTEM INTERFACE
Name: Ashriel Ashveil
Age: 16
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Cultivation Realm: None
Bloodline: [UNKNOWN] ❓❓❓❓❓
Physique: None
Affinity: None
< Bloodline Awakening Complete >
< Cosmic Mark Optimization Complete >
⟪━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━⟫
Ashriel stared at the panel.
Stunned. Speechless.
But something deep within him stirred — not fear, not confusion...
Hunger.
Not for food.
Not for comfort.
But for power.
He stood slowly, the black sludge flaking off his skin. His obsidian eyes gleamed like twin abysses.
> "Unknown bloodline... an anomaly…?" he whispered.
"Then let the universe remember—
the anomaly it dared to awaken."