In the land of Ossibuz, ruled by King Matar, towering rock formations encircled the realm. Elders believed these colossal stones were remnants of a titanic war among giant beings, one of whom was a magnificent black bird.
The lineage of Sapar held unwavering faith in the power of the Corvus Entity. Crows, beholden to their command, beca their eyes and ears, used for reconnaissance on individuals and for monitoring distant nations, unveiling the current pulse of the world. Sapar, despite his impaired vision, possessed an uncanny ability to converse with these crows, making him a master of espionage, surpassing even the most seasoned elite spies.
Legend whispers that these mountainous rock formations, like teors, plumted from the heavens. In ti, they beca Ossibuz’s formidable shield against invaders, typhoons, and tsunamis. But amidst these stony sentinels, a gigantic, shimring black bird, gravely wounded from a battle with the thunderbird, the renowned Aquila, fell from the sky.
The bird perished, yet from its dying form, a multitude of crows appeared; they eaten the giant black bird. However, the ancestors preserved the wings in the Ossibuz palace. But after they devoured the giant black bird , they were magically sealed in the land of Ossibuz, the ravens didn’t disappeared, instead they gathered and multiplying itself, like a swarm or a plague in the eyes of so Ossibians. And soon beco the watcher of Ossibian people.
From that day forward, outsiders dubbed Ossibuz the "World of Crows." The sky above would often be choked with their dark forms, their raucous calls echoing a grim prophecy: the arrival of enemies. For the Ossibians, these crows were their watchful guardians. Their cunning, a gift from the Corvus Entity, allowed them to surveil with unmatched precision and even manipulate the minds of others. With the crows as their instrunts, no adversary could escape their vigilant gaze.
In Ossibuz, the air often slls of old stones and wet earth after it rains, and one can hear the sharp, smart calls of crows. Their shiny black feathers, catching the sun, move across the sky like a dark, living shadow. On the huge, smooth rocks, their claws make soft scratching sounds as they sit, their tiny, dark eyes always looking far away. Sotis, a deep crow sound breaks the quiet, a small shake that seems to make the stones tremble, a warning felt more than heard. When many crows fly up together, their loud caws beco a deafening noise, like an alarm that hurts the ears—a clear sign of danger. After a storm, the soft sound of their wings is the only noise, a quiet promise that they are always watching.
A crow burst forth from the man in Wendlock – that was the power of the Corvus. When Ossibians die, a crow erges from their bodies; this is their second life, a crow. Their mories transfer to the crow, but they can’t speak with humans. However, thanks to Sapar’s unique ability, he can convey the crows’ ssages and words. The crow Sapar holds is the reincarnation of the man Phalleon shot in Wendlock.
After the crow erged from the man’s mouth, its wings beat a hasty path straight to Sapar, who was then inford of Xerxez’s expulsion of the Ossibians.
Now, Sapar and his companions are heading to Wendlock, but Matar remains behind at the Ossibuz palace. He sits quietly, his fingers gently stroking his pet, Corvys. In his silent contemplation, a voice speaks to him in his mind. The entity of the Corvus has taken on a human form within his thoughts.
"Stop confronting Thallerion..." Matar can’t make out the man’s face, obscured by a swirling, inky smoke that wraps around his body.
"Why?" he ntally asks.
SAPAR HEADING TOWARDS WENDLOCK
The Wendlock, where the Ossibian farrs had been expelled, now revolted, led by King Matar. Lord Sapar spearheaded the protest against Thallerion.
"Hahahaha, look at now! The King of Thallerion is already plagued by misfortune!" Sapar’s voice rasped to his fellow protesters. "Haha, that’s what arrogant kings get... they’re cursed!"
"We will fight against Thallerion, for the sake of the Wendlock lands!" Matar declared, standing on a stage facing the crowd
"Haha, the Corvus entity has heard us! Now is the perfect ti to attack the Thallerion farrs in Wendlock!" Sapar crowed, holding his pet raven, smoke curling from the cigar in his mouth as he stroked the bird’s feathers.
"Father, I’m sure Xerxez’s entire army won’t be able to respond to save those poor Thallerion farrs," Fhajo remarked, a sharp, raven-like smile twisting his lips.
"Kill their farrs, for they drew blood from ours!" Fhajo commanded the soldiers. "So show them how you exact revenge. We want to see a raven’s revenge upon them!"
The father and son stood atop the stage, Sapar in the center, Matar on the right, and Fhajo on the left. Many believed Sapar’s lineage possessed a true hidden mystique, particularly their control over ravens. Even the secrets of other nations were known to them through the ravens scattered across all lands, only the frostic regions are not reachable by ravens.
"Let’s go!!! Attack now!!! Hahaha haha!!!" Sapar roared to Matar’s soldiers, joined by the Ossibian farrs protesting against Thallerion.
"Remarkable," Devein said, nodding with genuine awe. "That’s a weapon perfectly born from your elents—grace and power in harmony."
"Thank you," Zenny replied with a modest bow.
Devein turned next toward the blazing emblem of the fire faction. "And now, we move to the fire faction. This year, fire stands as the dominant elent among all trainees—surely, there are many geniuses among you." He looked to Master Caldier.
"Of course," Caldier said with a proud smirk. "The fire faction will never be ashad to present its best. My fire-hunter instructor will na two of our top talents."
The instructor stepped forward, his presence commanding. "Naturally, our brightest flas are Evenneor Faidenthor—and Xerxez. Both of you, stand."
Murmurs rippled through the hall as the two boys rose—Evenneor calm and sharp-eyed, Xerxez steady but tense beside him.
Devein smiled, curious. "So we have our candidates. Evenneor Faidenthor... it’s said your fireball can lt through steel. Tell us—what weapon would you choose to channel such power?"
Evenneor’s gaze was cold, almost dismissive. "Nothing," he said flatly.
The word struck the room like a spark in silence. Caldier’s eyes widened slightly, stunned by his son’s tone.
"What do you an by ’nothing’?" Devein asked, frowning.
Evenneor leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, his voice smooth but edged with arrogance. "My hands are my weapons. I don’t need steel or shape to guide my fla. Why ask what weapon I’d use... when my bloodline itself is power? Leave such questions for those who still need tools to understand it."
A hush fell across the room. So trainees glared; others looked away, unsure whether to admire or resent his pride. Caldier’s jaw tightened—but he said nothing."That’s it, rember what Master Caldier said to all of us. We are all Orion bloodline, do not limit your imagination when it cos of weapons."
Then, Vadylly voluntary to ntioned her genius student, none other than, Zenny Myrtle McGuirre.
"Oh, this girl has two elents but she preferred to be in wood factions. So..miss Zenny , what weapon do you think will be suitable for your talent?"
" Uhm," Her eyes were etched with pride. " Since I am wind style user at the sa ti, wood style user...I could choose a weapon flute.
"A flute? Why?" Teacher Devein asked with curiosity.
" I am a musician, but I want to use it to summoned or control nature through music ... My music wind , can control evil aura, and summon vines to grip them like a powerful chain. Enemies could escape my vines.
" Wow... that’s perfect for a wind and wood user.""That’s it," Teacher Devein said, his tone carrying both warmth and pride. "Rember what Master Caldier told us—we are all of the Orion bloodline. Never limit your imagination when it cos to weapons."
At that cue, Instructor Vadylly stepped forward, smiling with quiet confidence. "In that case, I’d like to present my own prodigy—Zenny Myrtle McGuirre."
All eyes turned as a slender girl rose gracefully from the wood faction’s ranks. Her presence carried both calm and quiet strength.
"Oh, this girl bears two elents," Vadylly explained proudly. "Wind and Wood—but she has chosen to remain in the wood faction. So, Miss Zenny, what weapon do you believe suits your talent?"
Zenny placed a hand on her chest, her eyes glinting with creative fervor. "Since I wield both wind and wood, I would choose... a flute."
"A flute?" Teacher Devein tilted his head, intrigued. "Why a flute?"
Her voice was soft, but filled with conviction. "Because I’m a musician. I want to summon and control nature through sound. My lodies—woven with wind—can purify dark auras, while my wooden notes call forth vines to ensnare my enemies like chains of life. No one could escape once my song begins."
A wave of astonishnt and admiration rippled through the room.
"Remarkable," Devein said, nodding with genuine awe. "That’s a weapon perfectly born from your elents—grace and power in harmony.""That’s it, rember what Master Caldier said to all of us. We are all Orion bloodline, do not limit your imagination when it cos of weapons."
Then, Vadylly voluntary to ntioned her genius student, none other than, Zenny Myrtle McGuirre.
"Oh, this girl has two elents but she preferred to be in wood factions. So..miss Zenny , what weapon do you think will be suitable for your talent?"
" Uhm," Her eyes were etched with pride. " Since I am wind style user at the sa ti, wood style user...I could choose a weapon flute.
"A flute? Why?" Teacher Devein asked with curiosity.
" I am a musician, but I want to use it to summoned or control nature through music ... My music wind , can control evil aura, and summon vines to grip them like a powerful chain. Enemies could escape my vines.
" Wow... that’s perfect for a wind and wood user."
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