The story takes place in the fractured land of Velharra, a brutal and cursed world governed by power, talent, and bloodline. It is a realm where strength is law and weakness is a death sentence.

At the core of Velharra's hierarchy lies "Aura"—a primal, spiritual force that manifests as a reflection of one’s potential. From aura bloom children to full-fledged warriors, one’s place in the world is defined by their Innate Talent: Magic, Summoning, Swordsmanship, Dark Arts, or Divine Blessings. The gifted rise. The talentless are crushed beneath them.

Centuries ago, a cataclysm known as the Worldsplit shattered Velharra's harmony. Titans walked the skies, ancient gods died screaming, and whole kingdoms were devoured by the Abyss. The world never recovered. Civilization is now scattered across seven warring nations, each ruled by their own elite class of Talent-bearers.

Among them, whispers echo of a “Cursed Lineage”—families doomed by fate to produce children without aura or talent. Mocked, shunned, and often culled at birth, these children are believed to bring ruin wherever they go.

The story begins in a remote village on the edge of Mournshade Valley, a borderland barely protected from the horrors of the world. Here, a boy named Eudora Wynhart—reborn with memories of a ruined future—awakens once more in a child's body.

He bears no talent. No aura. No magic. Nothing.

Yet, he alone remembers what is coming:

> A war that will burn the skies. A betrayal that will shatter nations. And a darkness that feeds on heroes and gods alike.



Where others ascend through power, Eudora must rise through pain, resolve, and sacrifice. In a world that denies him everything, he chooses to fight back with nothing.

The wind howled over the estate walls as if trying to keep Eudora out.


He stood frozen at the threshold of a courtyard where time had clearly passed him by. The boy—no older than six—stared up at him with wide eyes and a question that split the earth beneath his feet:


He simply said, "You should speak with him," and walked away.


Leaving Eudora to face what his past self never knew he'd left behind.


The boy stepped forward, cautious but curious. "My name's Ren. What's yours?"


Eudora stared down at him. He had his mother's jawline. His eyes. His own.


Ren tilted his head. "My brother said you were a dead man."


The halls of the estate were colder than he remembered. Larger too. Or maybe it was just him who had grown smaller.


Maids passed him with downturned eyes. Guards watched him not as an heir, but a question.


That night, Eudora sat at the far end of a long, polished dining table. Thalor was at the head, sipping dark wine.


"You have a son," the old man finally said. "A second one. His name is Kael."


"You left more than scars when you disappeared."


Responsibility. Regret. A punishment wrapped in blood.


Later, Eudora found Kael asleep in a nursery wing. He was barely a toddler—still gripping a wooden sword in his sleep.


Untouched by the war Eudora carried inside.


Eudora watched from the doorway, not daring to step closer.


"You'll be tested," Thalor said on the balcony at dawn.


"By everyone. A dead heir returned. A bastard-born son. Rumors of regeneration. Whispers of ruins and cursed blood."


"I should have killed you when your powers first showed. You were a danger. You still are."


Eudora's hands clenched. "Then why didn't you?"


"Because for the first time, I believe you might become what I couldn't."


There was no affection in the statement.


"You'll train your sons," Thalor said. "And yourself. This house does not allow weakness anymore. The age of royal protections is dying."


"I'll raise them," he said. "But not to be like you."


Thalor smirked. "Then make them better. That's the burden of every father."


That night, Eudora stood in the courtyard again. Ren approached him cautiously, a practice blade in hand.


"Will you teach me to fight?" the boy asked.


And for the first time since his regression...


But behind that smile, in the corner of his mind, something stirred.


Chapter 22 - Chapter 22