The kingdom of Azul had always been a land of legends.
Its towering walls, crystal-blue rivers, and ancient forests hid secrets that had survived for centuries. The people believed the royal bloodline was blessed by the gods themselves… but every blessing carried a curse.
On the night the prince was born, thunder swallowed the sky.
Lightning tore through the heavens as if the gods were at war.
The palace priests trembled as the newborn let out his very first cry.
“He bears the Mark…”
Silence filled the chamber.
The Queen held her son tightly while the King stared at the strange blue symbol glowing faintly on the baby’s chest.
Some called it a blessing.
Others whispered it was the beginning of the kingdom’s destruction.
No one knew which was true.
Seventeen years later…
Azul was panting heavily.
Sweat rolled down his face as another wooden sword slammed into his shoulder, knocking him onto the dusty training ground.
“Lose your focus again, and next time it’ll be your head,” Bashan said coldly.
The boys surrounding them burst into laughter.
“The so-called prince can’t even beat Bashan.”
“What a disappointment.”
Azul clenched his fists.
Every insult burned deeper than the bruises covering his body.
He wasn’t weak because he lacked determination.
He was weak because something inside him refused to awaken.
Every member of the royal family inherited the kingdom’s sacred power before adulthood.
Everyone…
Except him.
As Bashan walked away, he glanced back with a mocking smile.
“If I were you, I’d give up trying to become king.”
Those words echoed in Azul’s mind long after the training ended.
He stared at his hands.
Why…?
Why won’t my power awaken?
He had no answer.
Only silence.
He never imagined that before the sun rose again…
Everything would change.
Far beneath the kingdom…
Something ancient opened its eyes.