Birka Island, town streets.
A young man with abnormally long ears sat quietly by the roadside. His earlobes hung all the way down to his chest. In front of him was a large woven basket filled with freshly caught fish from the White Sea, their scales still glistening.
He pulled over a small stool, sat down, and waited for customers.
Unlike most Birka residents, he had no wings.
His father had been a man from the Blue Sea. When their relationship was discovered, his father was immediately sentenced to Cloud Drift Exile. In Birka, loving a Blue Sea person was a grave crime. The kingdom's hatred toward outsiders was absolute, and discovery usually meant death.
His mother survived, but she had already been pregnant at the time. She gave birth to him anyway.
That child was Enel.
Although she was not punished directly, the pressure from gossip and public scorn crushed her. She raised Enel until he was five years old, then fell into deep depression and died.
From that day on, Enel became an orphan.
In the eyes of the Birka people, he was an impurity, a mixed-blood anomaly. A wingless one.
They avoided him, despised him, and whispered behind his back.
Ironically, among the abandoned children of Birka, Enel was a leader. He was the head of the orphans, though to the townspeople, that only made him an idle hooligan and a future threat.
Some radicals even wanted him executed like his father, exiled into the White Sea to die.
Because of this, Enel lived cautiously, doing his best not to violate Birka's laws.
The fish in his basket were valuable. Fresh White Sea fish were not easy to obtain. Birka had no trees, and although there were boats, most had been seized from Blue Sea people over the years and were controlled by the Temple. Very few circulated freely in town.
Enel had no backing.
Every fish in his basket had been caught by his own hands, using crude tools, risking his life in the White Sea.
Many passersby glanced at the fish, but no one stopped to buy. Enel was used to it. Someone always came eventually, usually near mealtime. Ordinary Birka residents might dislike him, but not enough to starve themselves.
Suddenly, something whistled through the air.
Clack!
Two hard shells struck Enel's body. A third missed, bouncing off the ground nearby.
Enel looked up.
Three Sky Island children stood nearby, laughing.
"Big-eared freak! I'll smash you to death!" one of them shouted, throwing another shell.
Enel frowned. Without standing, he reached to his side and grabbed a round metal rod.
It was an iron rod forged from iron cloud, his usual weapon.
With a sharp swing, he knocked the shell out of the air.
The children froze.
He swung the rod again, slicing the air with a loud whoosh.
That was enough.
The three children screamed and turned tail, fleeing as fast as they could.
Enel let out a quiet sigh and lowered the iron rod. If he did nothing, they would only come back again. This was far from the first time.
He sat there in silence, waiting.
Not long after, the street ahead grew noisy. Townspeople quickly moved aside, clearing a path.
The Birka patrol team.
Also known as the Divine Guards.
They were the enforcers of the Temple, soldiers directly under God. To the residents, they were objects of fear and reverence.
The captain approached Enel slowly, disgust plain in his eyes.
"Filthy wingless one," he said coldly. "Leave. You have no right to be here."
"There is no such law in Birka," Enel replied, staring back, his teeth clenched.
The captain laughed. "There is now. Get lost. An anomaly like you isn't welcome in my territory."
Enel's fists tightened. He wanted to punch that smug face into the ground.
But he didn't dare.
The patrol team had the authority to enforce the law on the spot.
These fish sold best in town. If he left for the outskirts, he could still sell them, but at a much lower price.
In the end, Enel picked up his basket and turned to leave.
"Wait."
The captain's gaze flicked to the basket, greed flashing in his eyes.
"Someone reported stolen fish. I suspect you're the thief. Leave the fish here."
"What?" Enel snapped. "Where's your proof?"
"Hmph. Still daring to talk back?" the captain sneered. "Seize him."
Enel finally understood. They were deliberately targeting him.
These fish were his hard-earned livelihood. How could he hand them over?
Rage surged through him. He tightened his grip on the iron rod, facing the charging guards.
"No!" A voice shouted desperately. "Boss Enel will be accused of attacking the patrol team!"
Ohm rushed in from the side, panic written all over his face.
Behind him were several others, orphans like Enel. Ohm was one of his closest companions, and in the future, one of Enel's Four Divine Priests. For now, he was just another struggling outcast.
Attacking the patrol team was equivalent to attacking a divine priest.
That meant a death sentence.
Cloud Drift Exile.
Once cast into the endless White Sea, survival was almost impossible. Island clouds drifted aimlessly. Without food, most people died within days.
Ohm's shout snapped Enel back to his senses.
His body stiffened.
That brief hesitation was enough.
A patrol guard raised a spear-like weapon. At its tip was a hollow circular device.
He aimed at Enel's abdomen and pressed a button.
Boom!
A terrifying impact exploded outward.
"Ah!"
Enel's eyes went wide as pain tore through him. He spat out a mouthful of blood and was sent flying backward, crashing to the ground.
The weapon used an Impact Dial.
Such power was normally reserved for real combat, not civilians.
Even so, Enel was still a resident of Birka.
The surrounding crowd gasped in shock.
The patrol team showed no restraint.
This was intentional.
They wanted to break him.
The captain recalled Enel's defiant gaze and felt irritated. A wingless mongrel daring to look at him like that.
He shot Ohm a warning glance. Ohm had nearly ruined his plan by speaking it aloud.
In his eyes, people like Enel should not exist at all.
Dying early would be mercy.
But with so many witnesses, he restrained himself.
Enel tried to rise, but patrol guards were already upon him. A kick sent him back down, followed by boots stomping onto his body.
Punches and kicks rained down.
Enel curled up instinctively, arms shielding his head and vital points. Pain tore through him as blood stained the ground beneath.
He made no sound.
His teeth were clenched so tightly they trembled.
Hatred burned in his eyes.
The onlookers remained silent. No one dared intervene. The patrol team inspired terror throughout Birka.
Even Ohm and the others were held back by their companions. They knew rushing in would only make things worse.
After a long while, Enel stopped moving.
The patrol guards finally stepped back, breathing heavily.
The captain approached, smiling.
He deliberately stepped on Enel's body, grinding his boot down in humiliation. Then he bent over, picked up the basket of fish, and handed it to a guard.
"Carry this."
Through blurred vision, Enel saw everything.
His hard work, taken just like that.
Hatred deepened.
"Hahaha! Let's go. I'll treat you all to fish!" the captain laughed loudly as he walked away.
The street slowly returned to normal. Pedestrians avoided Enel, stepping around him as if he were trash.
"Boss! Are you alright?"
Ohm and the others rushed over once the patrol team was gone.
"He's breathing! He's alive!" someone shouted. "Quick, take him to a doctor!"
Several of them lifted Enel onto their backs and ran toward the infirmary.
Though the wounds were mostly external, delay could still be fatal.
"Again?" the old doctor muttered as they burst in. "Put him on the bed."
He recognized Enel instantly.
Seeing the severity of the injuries, even he was startled.
"What happened?"
Ohm explained quickly.
The doctor fell silent and sighed.
He examined Enel carefully, applied ointment across his body, and wrapped him in bandages.
"Doctor, will he be okay?" Ohm asked anxiously. More orphans had arrived, crowding the small infirmary.
By now, Enel had lost consciousness.
"Timely treatment. Nothing life-threatening," the doctor said gently. "He protected his vital areas. The wounds are severe but superficial. He needs several days of rest. No lasting damage."
The tension finally eased.
One by one, they left.
The infirmary grew quiet again.
The old doctor looked at Enel lying unconscious and sighed once more.
He had watched this boy grow up.
Enel had been a regular here since he was six years old. Parentless, bullied, rejected.
Over time, Enel learned that strength was the only shield.
He learned to fight. He grew stronger. He stopped fearing others.
That strength made him the leader of the orphans.
The doctor had seen every change.
As a healer, he never discriminated.
But even he felt that today had gone too far.
The patrol team had crossed a line.
And somewhere deep within the unconscious boy on the bed, something dangerous was beginning to awaken.