A thousand years have passed since this world's civilization was first formed.
Now, it is home to four main races: humans, elves, dwarves, and lionins.
These four races inherited and developed the world once said to be created by a great entity known as Ashura.
Nowadays, the name "Ashura" is little more than a legend, a title given to gods by their descendants, though no one truly knows what they looked like or if they ever really existed.
Stories passed down through generations speak of eight gods descending to the world and laying the foundation of life.
Maybe just folklore… or perhaps a truth buried by time.
Four great kingdoms now stand tall, each ruled by a monarch of a different race.
For over seven centuries, these kingdoms have lived in peace, building civilization, fostering unity, and raising a new generation together.
Although each race has its own lands and cultures, people are free to live in any kingdom.
Even children of all races can study together in the same academies with no restrictions.
But differences remain.
Beneath the surface of harmony, whispers of discrimination linger, deep-rooted prejudices still exist, and old hatred continues to be passed down.
And sometimes, all it takes is a single spark to reignite the flames of racial conflict.
My name is Aren Smith.
I was born in the Kingdom of Eldoria, located at the center of the continent and known as a major trade hub.
I grew up surrounded by the sound of metal and the heat of fire.
My father, Edward Smith, is a blacksmith who spends his days forging swords and crafting combat gear.
He rarely had time for the family. In a week, there was only one day where we could all sit down together.
Even then, he'd usually fall asleep in his chair before we could talk much.
He always told me, "Metal won't wait to be shaped, son."
That's his life motto, never leave anything half-finished.
The funny thing about Dad is that he always sings while forging.
His voice? Absolutely tone-deaf.
But somehow, the sound of his off-key humming mixed with hammer strikes made the workshop feel... alive.
While Dad was busy with his hammer and forge, Mom ran her own little food stall. Her name's Eliza Smith.
Even with a kitchen full of demanding customers and heavy pots, she'd always come home with a smile.
Somehow, she still found time to cook for me, ask about my day, and scold Dad for skipping dinner.
That's our family.
Busy, noisy, and chaotic, but always finding time for one another.
Every now and then, Dad would take me into town to buy supplies for the workshop.
It didn't happen often, but to me… those little trips were everything.
I still remember one particular day.
It wasn't like our usual errands.
Instead of going to the market, Dad brought me to a wide, open training ground near the edge of town.
The sound of clashing swords and shouting filled the air.
Without much explanation, he signed me up for sword and martial arts training.
"I'm too busy to train you myself," he said, patting me gently on the shoulder.
"But I don't want you growing up without knowing how to protect yourself."
I just nodded at the time.
But deep down, I knew, that was his way of showing love.
From that day on, I trained every day.
Sometimes, during breaks, I'd swing by Dad's workshop or Mom's stall to help out or just take a breather.
That was my daily life.
Simple, but meaningful.
Kids my age usually go through special training as preparation before entering a magic academy.
It's not just routine, it's a vital part of our journey toward Awakening, the moment when the mana within us fully awakens.
Our bodies need to be ready for it.
The stronger your body, the better mana flows through it when it first stirs to life.
Most kids experience their Awakening at age fifteen.
And for us, that age isn't just a number.
It's the gateway to our true destiny.
Today, I was helping out in Dad's workshop, doing whatever I could to be useful.
I carried a bucket filled with metal scraps and placed it near the forge.
The heat made sweat drip down my face.
Dad was still hammering away at a sword in the corner.
The clang of metal and hiss of flames filled the air.
Once I was done, I made my way to the storage room behind the workshop.
The door handle felt cold, coated with a layer of dust.
I took a deep breath, then slowly pushed it open.
Creeeeak...
The old wooden door groaned.
The scent of rusted iron and oil hit me instantly.
I stepped inside.
The floor was cluttered with unfamiliar items, some wrapped in worn cloth, others left abandoned in the open.
There was a strange sword, unlike anything Dad had ever made.
And a crystal tube filled with a glowing liquid.
"What is all this…?" I muttered, picking up a small round object that shimmered faintly in the light.
I took a deep breath and looked around at the mess that had clearly been left untouched for years.
"Just like always…" I said under my breath as I started clearing things out.
The clinking of metal echoed in the room.
"Dad really doesn't care about organizing his stuff."
I picked up a few items and placed them neatly on the shelves in the corner.
One by one, I sorted everything.
The less important junk, I pushed off to the side.
After nearly an hour of cleaning, my body felt sore.
My back ached from hauling so much heavy metal.
I dropped down into a corner of the room, leaning against the cool wall.
My eyes swept across the now tidy space.
The floor was clean, the shelves organized, and the air a little easier to breathe.
"Finally done…" I let out a long sigh.
"That was way more exhausting than I expected."
After resting for a while, I slowly stood up and stretched out the stiffness in my limbs.
I headed out of the storage room and carefully closed the door behind me.
Outside, the sky had shifted to a soft orange glow.
The sun dipped behind the rooftops, and a gentle breeze carried the calmness of the evening.
"Dad, I'm heading home now. I cleaned up the storage room, the key's on the table," I called out loud enough for him to hear.
He didn't reply right away.
He was still hammering, lost in his work, fully synchronized with the fire and steel.
"Thanks for today…" he finally murmured, without turning around.
"Tell your mother I said hi."
I smiled faintly.
Then I walked off down the path home, my steps light, the wind brushing past, and the sunset painting the sky above Eldoria.