The Sybernia continent breathed in rhythm with its people.
No magic flowed through its lands, no gods whispered in its winds — only the art of discipline, will, and energy.
Every being carried within them the pulse of creation, a force known as Technique Energy — born not from sorcery, but from mastery of the body and spirit ,The techniques!
These technique are everything in this world some uses for daily work, agriculture, construction etc but it is mainly using for war,
In this sybernia continent, nine great kingdoms ruled this vast land, each carved by its own purpose.
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The sky above mountains burned red that evening — not from sunset, but from the roaring engines of the royal airship "Valiant Dragon."
Its metallic wings cut through the clouds like silver blades, gliding over the golden sea of dusk.
Inside, the royal insignia of the Raiger Family gleamed upon every wall: a white dragon devouring a black star.
Within the main deck, laughter still echoed.
"Come on, Ron, you'll miss the view again," said Riya Raiger (Ron's elder sister 6 years old), leaning over the window rail. Her voice carried the warmth of an older sister — soft, teasing, alive.
Beside her, Ron, barely 4 years old, peered through the glass with awe. "It looks like fire in the clouds," he whispered.
"It is," said King Odin Aros Raiger, his voice deep but kind. "That's the glow of the Crowneous barrier reflecting the sunset. Even the sky bends before the will of the kingdom."
He smiled faintly, resting his hand on Ron's shoulder.
The young prince beamed back — proud, innocent, unaware of what was waiting beyond those crimson clouds.
At the far end of the deck, Radin Aros Raiger , stood motionless, eyes locked on the horizon. His senses, sharper than any radar, caught a distortion in the wind — unnatural, rhythmic.
"Brother…" he muttered, narrowing his gaze. "Something's coming."
Before Odin could answer, the airship trembled.
A faint metallic shriek echoed from above, followed by the sudden blink of the red alert light.
⚠ WARNING: UNKNOWN ENERGY SOURCE APPROACHING.
The King's expression hardened. "Radin—"
"I know," He interrupted, vanishing into smoke.
He reappeared at the upper deck in less than a heartbeat, scanning the skies — and then he saw them.
Black shapes cutting through the clouds.
Eight of them.
Winged crafts, silent as death, trailing black vapor that hissed against the wind.
"The Hunter Squad," Radin growled. "They dare to fly above royal airspace."
The first shot came before the royal guards could react — a spear of red energy tore through the left wing, shattering the outer hull.
Flames burst outward, scattering debris across the sky. The ship tilted violently.
Inside, alarms blared and the crew screamed as gravity threw them into chaos.
"Protect the children!" shouted Odin, his voice like thunder.
He rushed toward the cockpit, hands glowing with blue aura — White pulse Ignition — while his body braced against the tilting floor.
Riya grabbed Ron's hand, pulling him close. "Stay with me, don't look outside!" she yelled, shielding him from the shattering glass.
Outside the viewport, crimson fire licked the edges of the clouds.
Then a shadow appeared through the flames — a man standing atop one of the attacking crafts, his cloak snapping like torn wings.
Long white hair, eyes glowing like molten steel. In his hand, a blade radiated with dark energy — Shelor, one of the 8 Destructive Swords.
> "For the balance of chaos… the Raiger must fall," the man spoke — voice calm, cold, final.
Rosewel Eropgres, King of the Hunter Squad.
Radin materialized beside him, hammerspear drawn, aura black as void. "You think I'll let you touch them?"
Rosewel smiled faintly. "You can't stop inevitability, Shadow king."
The two collided in midair — shadow versus void, energy cracking the clouds like thunderbolts.
Each strike split the sky apart, the force bending light itself.
Below them, the Valiant Dragon spiraled downward, engines rupturing one by one.
Inside, Odin tore open the emergency hatch, his eyes blazing gold.
He lifted Riya and Ron in his arms, his voice unshaken despite the chaos.
"Listen to me," he said firmly. "If I fall, you must rise. Crowneous will always need its Crown."
The deck split open as the main reactor exploded. The airship tore apart midair.
Odin hurled his children into the sky — wrapped in a barrier of white flame — just as a black beam from Roseyel's sword cut through the hull.
Radin screamed his brother's name, vanishing into smoke again, trying to reach them — too late.
The last thing Ron saw was his father's face through the storm, his eyes burning brighter than the sun — and then, the world turned white.
Flames swallowed the horizon. The roar of engines died into silence.
The Valiant Dragon crashed into the deep ravines of Caynion, its wreckage lost to smoke and shadow
Only a faint trail of light — the golden barrier — shot across the night, crashing deep into the wilderness below.
That night, the capital bells tolled thirteen times — a number forbidden in Crowneous tradition.
The royal family was declared lost.
The youngest prince, Ron Raiger, presumed dead.
But the truth was far from over.
Far below, amidst the broken canyon winds, the boy opened his eyes — alone, bleeding, surrounded by silence.
And for the first time, the white hole's son breathed not as royalty… but as a survivor.
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[End of the chapter one]
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