Primordial Heir: Nine Stars

It was almost laughable for Barak to say those words without any shame.

Especially to him.

A person who had never known the warmth of a family since the moment he was born.

Nero had been rejected by everyone.

Shunned.

Forsaken.

The only person who had ever truly loved him, the only person who had given him warmth in that cold world—his mother—was gone.

After that day, everything changed.

The persecution only became worse.

From a young age, he endured everything inside a hostile household that called itself a clan.

While other children of the Raizen Clan wore beautiful clothes, played freely, trained in the family’s prestigious grounds, and learned their inherited breathing technique under the guidance of others...

Nero had nothing.

No support.

No guidance.

No one who cared whether he succeeded or failed.

He had to learn how to survive on his own from an early age.

He worked because no one else would provide for him.

He struggled because no one would extend a hand.

There were countless moments when he felt the emptiness of that place, surrounded by people who shared his blood yet treated him like an outsider.

They called him a cursed child.

They mocked him.

They looked down on him.

They constantly reminded him that he was unwanted.

Years of rejection and suffering shaped him.

They forced him to mature far earlier than anyone should have.

Eventually, Nero gained absolute control over his emotions.

He became calm.

Quiet.

Almost like a doll that no longer reacted to the world around him.

So, when he turned seventeen, he made his decision.

If he was not welcomed...

If his existence was considered meaningless...

Then he would leave.

He would find his own path.

The only thing that stopped him from giving up completely were the final words of his mother.

Her wish for him was simple.

She wanted him to continue living.

She wanted him to find happiness.

Those words became the reason he continued moving forward.

And so, Nero abandoned the name Raizen.

With Azariah’s approval.

That despicable man who had never once acted like a father after his birth.

The same man who discarded him the moment he decided Nero had no value.

The same man who branded him a cursed child.

After leaving the clan, Nero chose to enter the academy.

He knew he was different.

He knew there was something within him that even he did not fully understand.

But he never stopped searching.

Never stopped moving forward.

Every hardship.

Every failure.

Every obstacle.

They all led him to where he stood today.

He awakened multiple Laws.

A feat that had never been heard of before.

He reached his current realm.

From nothing...

To the Purple Rank.

All within a little over a year.

Not because someone gifted him everything.

Not because he was carried by others.

But because he never gave up.

And now...

Those who once discarded him came searching for him.

Those who once treated him as worthless now wanted him back.

And if they could not reclaim him...

They would rather destroy him.

The thought was almost amusing.

And now this fool stood before him.

One of the people who had contributed to his suffering.

One of those who had once looked down on him.

Speaking words filled with resentment and arrogance.

Was this supposed to be some kind of joke?

Someone who had never experienced the hell Nero endured.

Someone who had never carried the weight he carried.

Someone consumed by an inferiority complex, jealousy, and hatred.

That person stood before him, pretending to understand pain.

Pretending to have suffered more.

Yet Nero had surpassed everything the Raizen Clan had ever expected from him.

He had achieved what they believed impossible.

He had become something they could never control.

And Barak...

Had chosen the easiest path.

He had thrown away himself.

He had accepted power from an existence he didn’t even understand.

For the sake of revenge.

For the sake of proving himself.

How ironic.

The person who claimed to have been wronged had willingly become a servant to something else.

Compared to everything Nero had endured...

Compared to everything he had overcome...

Barak’s words were nothing.

Only the desperate cries of someone who had lost himself long ago.I kept the narration focused on Nero’s perspective: restrained anger, emotional weight, and the contrast between his perseverance and Barak’s resentment.

°°°

Meanwhile, within his own dimension...

Leviathan was ecstatic.

Although the connection with his host, Barak, had temporarily been severed—undoubtedly because of Nero—he felt no concern.

Not even the slightest.

The pieces had already been placed on the board.

The game had already begun.

Soon...

He would meet that child.

Nero.

The moment he thought of him, Leviathan’s expression twisted into one of fascination.

So it was him.

It had to be.

The reason their creators—the Originals, the first devils born from the depths of chaos—had accelerated their awakening.

That child was connected to everything.

The signs were too obvious.

The world was approaching another Ragnarok.

But this time...

This would not be an incomplete ending.

This would be the final one.

The true conclusion.

The ultimate clash between order and chaos.

Call it fate.

Call it destiny.

Call it the inevitable cycle of destruction and rebirth.

The name did not matter.

What mattered was that the stage was finally being prepared.

And it was going to be entertaining.

Leviathan, the ruler of Envy, slowly licked his purple lips with his snake-like tongue.

His eyes contained endless curiosity.

And a hunger that had slept for countless years.

”Time to work.”

Among his siblings, he had awakened first.

The ruler of envy.

One of the Original Seven Sins.

A being that represented a fundamental flaw carved into the very existence of creation.

A monstrous laugh echoed throughout his dimension.

”Hehehehehe...”

The sound carried no joy.

Only anticipation.

Through their connection, he sent a portion of his power toward Barak.

Even if he couldn’t directly witness the battle...

He could still influence the outcome.

Barely.

Just enough.

The host was not ready yet.

But soon...

Very soon...

The seal would weaken.

The barriers would collapse.

And he would descend personally.

Not as a whisper.

Not as a shadow.

But in his true form.

Then he would finally meet the child of destiny.

The one who had awakened powers beyond expectations.

The heir to the throne.

The existence standing at the center of the coming storm.

Leviathan’s smile widened.

”Hehehehe...”

”This is fun.”

”Truly... fun.”

His crimson gaze looked toward the endless darkness before him.

”I am looking forward to it.”

The age of silence was ending.

The pieces had awakened.

And the world had yet to realize...

The next catastrophe had already begun.I kept Leviathan mysterious rather than explaining too much, so his presence feels like an ancient entity manipulating events from the shadows.