Primordial Heir: Nine Stars

The quiet intimacy of the date lingered on Nero’s skin like a pleasant warmth as he watched Khione disappear into the sanctuary of her room. The peace, however, was a prelude to purpose. He had already arranged his next move.

Finding Lux, he secured the pass to one of the Leclair’s private pocket worlds. His intent was clear: he would spend the night there, leveraging the warped flow of time. While evening draped the estate in twilight, the sun would be blazing high in that separate reality, granting him long, uninterrupted hours to push his limits. His goal was singular and profound—to hunt powerful enough prey to finally shatter the barrier to his second star, the golden star that would grant him dominion over the Law of Lightning.

With the pass glowing softly in his hand, Nero geared up. He donned a set of light, flexible armor and secured the finely-crafted sword, a gift from Adam, to his back. Stepping through the shimmering portal was like passing through a veil of pressure and light.

On the other side, a world of primal grandeur unfolded. An ancient, boundless forest stretched before him, a sea of emerald and jade under a fierce, high sun. The air was thick, humid, and vibrated with an abundance of raw prana, so potent he could taste it—a flavor of damp earth, lush vegetation, and latent power. A warm wind swept through the colossal trees, rustling leaves the size of shields and dancing through his dark blue hair. His ominous red eyes narrowed, scanning the untamed horizon. This realm was a designated hunting ground, teeming with various monsters, but it was dominated by orcs. From the common brutes to the powerful Red Orcs and the cunning High Orcs, it was the grey-skinned Orc Chieftains who truly ruled this verdant domain. It was their kind he sought.

Without a sound, crimson flame erupted from his back, coalescing into vast, shimmering wings. With a powerful beat that sent a gust of scorching air through the clearing, he shot into the sky. Hovering high above the canopy, he closed his eyes and cast his senses outward. His prana unfurled like an invisible net, a sophisticated sonar painting a mental map of the life forces below—the flickering small prey, the dense, simmering clusters of orc patrols, and further afield, the deep, thrumming resonance of something truly powerful. The hunt had begun.

°°°

For thirty minutes, Nero was a silent, crimson speck against the vast canvas of the blue sky. He soared on wings of living flame, his prana sense stretched taut over the emerald ocean below, filtering out the faint whispers of lesser creatures and seeking the dense, aggressive signatures of his prey. The wind whipped at his hair, the thrum of primal power in this world a constant hum in his veins.

’’I truly missed this feeling, even if it had been only few days, finally I couldn’t help myself, my desire to kill some monsters and unlock my second star prevailed.’’ Nero chuckled. This should have been solely a week of relaxation yet many things happened, he gained a girlfriend, he should have done his utmost to spend every moment with her but here he was, trying to train. He couldn’t be more hopeless.

Then, he felt it. A cluster of five distinct auras, burning with a savage, brutish intensity. Peering down through a break in the canopy, he spotted them using his enhanced vision. Five Red Orcs, their hides the color of dried blood, clad in crudely hammered plate armor and wielding notched, wicked-looking axes and cleavers. They were lumbering through a rocky clearing, their guttural barks and snarls echoing faintly up to him. Perfect.

A predator’s calm settled over him. The fiery wings behind him dissolved into shimmering motes of light. For a moment, he was in freefall, the wind screaming past him. Then, with a thought, the sleek sword on his back shimmered and morphed, its metal flowing and reshaping until he held a elegant, deadly bow of dark, polished metal, its string humming with contained energy.

He nocked an arrow that was not there, and as he drew the string, prana condensed, forging a shaft of pure, concentrated flame. He did not aim at a single orc. He aimed at their formation.

Thwip. Thwip. Thwip.

Three arrows of blazing fire shot forth in rapid succession. They were not meant to kill, but to sow terror and chaos. The first slammed into the ground at the lead orc’s feet, erupting in a concussive blast of fire and shrapnel that sent it stumbling back with a roar of pain and surprise. The second arrow struck a massive boulder in the center of their group, detonating and showering them all in a hail of superheated stone fragments. The third arrow hit a dead tree at the rear, instantly transforming it into a roaring pyre, cutting off their retreat and painting the clearing in a hellish, flickering light.

Pandemonium erupted below. The orcs bellowed in confusion and rage, their crude discipline shattered.

And that was when Nero descended.

He allowed gravity to claim him, a dark blue-haired comet plummeting from the heavens. Halfway down, his bow seamlessly shifted back into the form of his sword. As it did, he poured his will into it. The Law of Fire answered his call, not as a wild inferno, but as a controlled, focused blaze. Crimson energy, shot through with veins of incandescent white, sheathed the blade completely, roaring to life with a sound like a forge god’s breath. The air around him warped and sizzled.

He landed in the very center of the chaos, the impact cratering the earth and sending a ring of fire and force outwards, knocking two of the orcs off their feet.

The rampage began.

The first orc, the one closest, charged with its axe held high. Nero didn’t retreat. He stepped inside the wild swing, his movements fluid and precise. His flaming sword traced a short, brutal arc, severing the orc’s weapon arm at the elbow. Before the beast could even scream, Nero reversed his grip and plunged the blade up through its jaw, the fire within erupting out the top of its skull in a brief, gruesome fountain of ash and embers.

Two more came at him from either side, coordinating their attack. Nero became a whirlwind. He dropped into a low spin, his sword extending the circle of his motion. ”Ember Cutter,” he murmured. A thin, disc-like wave of compressed fire expanded from his blade, too fast to dodge. It cleanly sliced through the legs of both orcs at the knee. They collapsed, their bellows of rage turning to shrieks of agony before he ended them with two swift, merciful thrusts, the fire cauterizing the wounds instantly.

The fourth orc, smarter than its brethren, hurled its massive cleaver like a throwing axe. Nero didn’t even break stride. He brought his sword up in a parry, but it wasn’t a block. As the cleaver connected with his flaming blade, he willed the fire to adhere. The cleaver stuck fast, wreathed in his crimson energy. With a flick of his wrist, he sent it hurling back, its speed tripled, its surface now white-hot. It slammed into the orc’s chest plate, melting through the crude metal and embedding itself deep in its torso, the smell of seared flesh filling the air.

The fifth and final orc, the largest, was the leader. Enraged, it slammed its fists into the ground, causing the earth to tremble. It charged, not with a weapon, but with the intent to tackle and crush. Nero stood his ground, his expression one of calm focus. He raised his left hand, palm outward.

”Solar Flare,” he stated, his voice flat.

A miniature sun, no larger than his palm, bloomed before his hand. It was a sphere of such intense, concentrated heat that the very light it emitted was blinding. He didn’t hurl it; he simply let it pulse. A wave of pure thermal energy erupted forth. The charging orc’s crude armor glowed red, then white, before melting and sloughing off its body. Its hide blackened and cracked, and the force of the blast lifted it off its feet, throwing it back like a discarded ragdoll to land in a smoldering, motionless heap.

Silence returned to the clearing, broken only by the crackle of the burning tree. Nero stood amidst the five corpses, his chest rising and falling steadily, his sword’s flame dying down to a gentle glow before winking out. Not a single movement had been wasted. Not a single spark of his power had been misdirected. It was a perfect, brutal display of sword skill and absolute control over the Law of Fire. He cleansed his blade and looked deeper into the forest, his ominous red eyes already searching for the next, greater challenge. The path to the golden star was paved in combat, and he had only just begun. He must unlock this star as quickly as possible to gain more power and surprise his girlfriend. He absorbed their souls, the last black chain sealing the golden star show few more cracks, it wouldn’t be long before it snap and the second star would be free.