The realm of Uri's prison was a desolate place, shrouded in a lingering dark aura.
The air echoed with the sorrowful cries of countless souls, begging for death and release from eternal torment.
Once trapped here, there was no return—only endless suffering until one's existence dissolved into nothingness.
No one knew the true location of this realm. It defied the celestial laws of Arka.
Only the Death God, Sezren, ruled this forsaken place.
Sezren, a slender figure robed in white, stood over a beautiful, unconscious woman — Asthough, the Life Emperor.
Struck down by Uri's deadly sword, she had been taken here after death.
Sezren's cold voice echoed,
"Thousands of years since another from Uri appeared... and she is from the Hidden Realm."
He looked toward another imprisoned soul, Sergia, and continued,
"Your second son still remains in the Hidden Realm. You gave him everything — even his father's essence — yet he hasn't awakened his true power or found his way to you."
Sergia's furious voice roared,
"How dare you speak so to your mother, Sezren! You abandoned your father's legacy!"
Sezren retorted,
"I am still stronger than your precious second son, Azren! Had you given me the inheritance, it would not be wasted."
At that moment, Asthough's eyes snapped open, blazing with divine wrath.
Though weakened and bound, her voice rang with unshaken pride:
"This Essentia belongs to Azren. He will rise to protect his people — no one can stop him."
Sezren's calm cracked into fury.
"I thought your beauty might save you, Asthough," he hissed. "But you still praise that useless boy. You shall suffer here as well."
With that, he vanished into the shadows.
Asthough fell to the ground, her gaze landing on Sergia's Dragon Seal.
"Why do you bear this mark?" she whispered.
Realization struck — Azren was her son.
With newfound resolve, Asthough invoked the last of her divine power, granting Azren the full inheritance of the Life Emperor and Heavenly Dragons.
Sezren returned solemnly to his domain — a vast, silent expanse stripped of all but shadow and stillness.
This place, both his refuge and his prison, held an eerie quiet that pressed against his senses.
The weight of solitude settled deep within his bones as he gazed into the endless void beyond.
Here, there were no distractions — only the ceaseless churn of his thoughts and the cold whisper of his own dark aura.
His eyes narrowed, burning with fury and unrelenting resentment.
The name that poisoned his mind brought a bitter taste to his lips — Azren.
The brother he despised with every fiber of his being.
The one who had seized the inheritance that was meant for him.
Sezren's voice shattered the oppressive silence, echoing through the abyss with rage and the promise of retribution.
"Azren!" he roared. "You who escaped the fate meant for me! You who dared to claim the inheritance that rightfully belongs to me — know this: I will find you in the Hidden Realm, no matter where you hide, and I will destroy you utterly."
The darkness around him pulsed with his hatred, swirling like a tempest within the void.
Every fiber of his being was consumed by the thirst for vengeance and domination.
The silent realm became a crucible for his wrath — a witness to a fury that threatened to tear apart the very fabric of existence.
Sezren raised his hands toward the heavens, as if challenging the stars themselves.
"I am the Death God," he declared, his voice unwavering and cold.
"None shall stand in my way, and no one will claim what is mine."
His figure, delicate yet imposing, trembled with the force of his emotions.
Shadows rippled around him like living chains.
In that moment, Sezren was more than a god — he was an avenging storm, a force of destruction destined to unleash devastation upon all who opposed him — especially the brother he vowed to annihilate.
In the Hidden Realm of Arka, four years ago, a fierce battle tore through the Rifitlands. Amidst the chaos, Azren fell into a secluded valley, badly wounded and on the brink of death.
The valley was a hidden sanctuary, surrounded by towering cliffs draped in mist, with crystal-clear streams winding through dense green foliage. This place, both beautiful and tranquil, was where Azren would begin his long road to recovery.
Thanks to the Life Empress, who selflessly left him her entire Essentia and the inheritance of Life Essentia, Azren was shielded from the worst of his injuries and the chaotic surge of dark Essentia within him. The Life Essentia gently mended his wounds and suppressed the destructive forces battling for control inside him.
For four quiet years, Azren retreated into this valley, its serene environment filled with the sounds of rustling leaves, bird songs, and flowing water. Here, away from the world's turmoil, he cultivated in silence, rebuilding his strength and spirit.
Perched on his back and shoulders were three dragons—each about a foot long and embodying the elemental forces of the valley itself. The Water Dragon, shimmering with translucent blue scales, constantly flowed with fresh life. The Wind Dragon, light and swift, circled around him with a gentle breeze that whispered through the trees. The Earth Dragon, sturdy and strong, anchored Azren to the valley's nurturing soil.
These dragons were not just companions but extensions of Azren's revived power, each representing a vital part of his growth and renewed potential.
Now, Azren had stabilized his Essentia refinement without relying on his overwhelming Heavenly Dragon power or chaotic forces. Moreover, the infusion of Life Essentia allowed him not only to heal himself but to extend that healing power to others in Arka who suffered.
As he opened his eyes, Azren looked toward Kravon and explained all that had transpired.
Kravon's gruff voice broke the stillness.
"Brat, finally you recovered. I never thought you'd be this lucky to survive after all you've been through."
Azren looked up at the sky, the cold resolve in his voice ringing clear.
"Now, I will take back everything from the Tred Clan. After that, I will find my mother. No one in this realm can stop me."
The serene valley stood witness to Azren's rebirth—and his unwavering determination to face what lay ahead