Primordial Heir: Nine Stars

”I’m different from you lots, it’s true, but aren’t we all different from each other? It’s what makes us unique.” — The Cursed Child.

°°°

The world of Kamelia is a beautiful place created by the Primordial Gods eons ago. It features one vast continent; except for the area occupied by monsters in the North, the rest is divided among the four races.

In the West stands the beautiful forest, home to the elves, beings beloved by the Law of Wind.

In the East lies the Daemon Kingdom, a race not really different from humans except for a few things.

In the South is the Dwarven Kingdom, and lastly, at the center of the continent, is the Human Empire.

Considered the strongest, their empire boasts the largest size and, naturally, the biggest population of 500 million. The overall population of the four races is 1 billion, with humans having the largest population, followed by daemons, dwarves, and finally elves.

Magnolia is the capital of the Rainfelt Empire; it boasts incredible sights, and the most important facilities are located here. It goes without saying that its majesty and beauty cannot be put into words. The capital was built jointly by both humans and dwarves.

The capital is under the Samael family, the imperial family and one of the seven strongest families in the world.

Naturally, having the most families among other races—four—the empire is divided into four regions: the ruling family in the South, the Undine family in the East, the Leclair family in the West, and the Raizen family in the North.

Constel’s duchy is under the Raizen family, a beautiful city governed by the second strongest family.

Located in the heart of the city is the Raizen estate, which boasts an incredible size, spanning several kilometers—almost like a small village.

People can be seen coming and going from this place. In one of the training grounds of the main mansion, the sounds of weapons clashing and thunder echoing fill the air.

This isn’t a surprising scene because you’re at the heart of the Raizen family, those blessed by the Law of Lightning.

At the center of one of the training platforms stands a boy about seventeen, with shoulder-length black hair and handsome face with straight jawline. His upper body is bare, showcasing his impeccable abs, proof of his hard work. He was sweating, but the sweat vanishes when lightning crackled, dancing across his upper body and reaching his feet as he vanished and reappeared before those surrounding him. Before they can react, he strikes with his lightning-clad hands.

Zzt! Zzt! Pow! Pow!

An accurate attack—every time, one man was sent flying, their bodies spasming despite being covered in lightning-resistant armor.

”Ugh!” ”Ugh!”

Having sent five men spiraling to the ground, the young man was not satisfied. His golden eyes narrowed into slits, displeasure evident on his face as he remarked,

”Where is that cursed being?”

Those grimacing immediately forget their pain upon hearing this question. Humans are like that; they rejoice in the misfortunes of others.

”He’s probably in the abandoned mansion, doing God knows what,” one of those sprawled on the ground rejoiced as he explained. It was the usual pattern; everyone present knows what will happen next.

And indeed, today was no different.

”Lucca, go call him over,” ordered the boy with the most prominent golden eyes here. Everyone present has golden eyes, but the degree of purity varies; only direct descendants—purebloods—inherit the complete golden eyes.

”Yes, young Lord Barak.” Lucca scrambled to his feet, disappearing quickly. The others chuckle, happy that their misfortune has been shifted to someone else. Who cares about that guy? He was nothing but a cursed child.

Barak sits in meditation, closing his eyes to feel his surroundings. He was performing a breathing exercise using the house breathing technique, trying to increase his core capacity by taking in more primordial energy. The entrance exam for Glory Academy was just around the corner.

Meanwhile, in an abandoned conner of the Raiden’s state was a small decrepit mansion, the cursed child house.

Eighteen years ago, a stain appeared in the Raizen family, which had been perfect until then. A boy was born, and everyone thought he would be the prodigy of the family; he was the first boy of the patriarch, who until then had only daughters. Unfortunately, this was not the case. The boy did not have the family’s black hair; instead, he had dark blue hair. Small tatoo running on his upper body until his left neck, an undecipherable tattoo, it wasn’t unheard they still had hope but when he later opened his eyes, all hope was completely lost—he had dark red eyes, ominous red eyes, with something swirling in them. That day, the expressionless patriarch shivered in disgust and declared the child a cursed child. He and his mother were to be discarded into the annex building.

The child, knowing nothing, has suffered since that day. His mother died a few years later, and because another boy—a genius—was born a few months after him, he suffered even more. Nobody cared about him; he was ignored. Unlike his siblings and other collateral relatives, he did not receive the blessing of Lightning. He could not use the Law of Lightning or any other Laws. His existence was utterly meaningless, nobody cared about what he was doing whether he was dead or not, most times the others didn’t approach this place unlike if Barak or someone else sent someone to call him over to act as a punching ball.

Lucca, who was running, stopped upon arriving at the annex building. Knowing where that cursed child would be, he headed into the garden. It was called a garden, but it wasn’t really a proper garden; overgrown plants were everywhere, and a broken fountain sat in the middle of the now rundown area. There was a weeping willow tree not too far from the broken fountain, and a young man was leaning against it, his eyes closed, with his long dark blue hair gently dancing in the wind, the tattoo on his neck slightly visible.

Lucca scoffed upon seeing the young man. Despitebeing called a cursed child, his handsomeness did not lose to Barak at all. Still, Lucca couldn’t help but frown, his disgust apparent. Who could blame him? After all, he was before the disgrace of the family—the cursed child, an abomination that should not exist.

Naturally, the person in question had noticed the arrival of the intruder. He was not surprised, as if he had expected something like this.