Thunder rumbled above Axis City. The sky remained overcast despite the morning sun, casting a dull silver hue across the towering skyline. Black Tower stood tallest among them — a fortress of obsidian alloy and spirit crystal, housing the wealth, pride, and power of one of the four human Pillar Families: the Black Family.
Deep within its foundation, Lucas Black stood alone in the inner training sanctum.
Flames coiled around his left hand — not red, not gold, but pure obsidian fire: the Amaterasu Flame, a 10-star divine-class soul spirit. Opposite it, on his right, a thin mist shimmered and condensed into the fanged jaw of a massive silver wolf — the Fenrir Soul, equally divine.
His breathing was steady.
Controlled.
But the pressure in the room was rising fast.
Elder Caelus and two others watched from the monitoring platform above the arena. Their faces remained still, but their spirits stirred restlessly behind them.
"Dual divine-class spirits," Caelus muttered. "We knew it was real... but to see it live…"
Lucas moved. His body blurred in motion — black flame trailing his limbs as he punched forward. The air ignited. The reinforced crystalsteel dummy in front of him didn't just break — it evaporated. Not even ashes remained.
Then he turned, eyes flashing silver and crimson, and summoned the Fenrir Soul.
The wolf's ethereal form emerged, nearly three meters tall. It howled — a sound that seemed to gnaw at the minds of everyone present.
The wolf lunged.
Another dummy was torn in two before its systems could activate. The spirit projection phased through steel like paper, its fangs biting into the dummy's core crystal and shattering it from within.
Lucas exhaled slowly, letting both spirits fade. "Still not enough."
"'Not enough'?" Elder Caelus blinked. "You melted Grade A combat dummies like they were made of wax."
Lucas sat cross-legged on the training floor, his body already covered in sweat. "My control is garbage. I can barely hold both spirits without them fighting for dominance. If I lose focus for a second, they could tear me apart."
"Then train harder," another elder grunted. "You hold what no human in recorded history has ever possessed — dual divine-class spirits. You think others won't try to cut you down the moment you leave this tower?"
By midday, Lucas stood in the Black family strategy chamber — a vast, circular room carved with spirit runes and filled with floating projections of the world map. Reinhardt Black, his father and current patriarch, stood near the center.
"Look closely," Reinhardt said, gesturing toward the glowing map. "This is our world. Four continents. Four dominant races."
He pointed in turn.
"To the west: the Elven Dominion, ruled by nature-bound warriors and spirit archers."
"To the north: the Dwarven Forgeholds, smiths and rune-walkers, creators of armaments and enchantments."
"To the east: the Celestial Clans, winged beings who claim divine birthrights."
"To the south: the Demon Abyss, fractured yet terrifying — beasts of blood, fury, and shadow."
"And here..." His finger stopped at the Human Continent, at the heart of the map. "We humans. Fragmented by nature, but united by fear. We lack what the other races possess."
"A Half-Step Demigod," Lucas said. "We have no one on their level."
Reinhardt nodded. "Each of the other races has one. The Elves have the Sylvan Warden. The Dwarves revere the Stonefather. The Demons have the Abyss Tyrant, and the Celestials bow to their Heaven-Marked King."
"All are beings who've refined their souls with divine treasures to near-divine levels. Not true demigods, but close enough to destroy nations."
"And humans?" Lucas asked.
"We compensate with numbers, strategy, and the Pillar Families."
Reinhardt swept his hand across four shining emblems floating in the air.
"The Black Family," he said, pointing to their own sigil, "masters of finance, spirit trade, and influence."
"The Campbells — our 'sword dogs.' Warriors obsessed with strength. Most of their spirits are blades, spears, or heavy weapons."
"The Lambergs — crafters and beast-bonders. Their blood is mixed with ancient forging lines. Their soul spirits take animal form and specialize in metallurgy."
"And the Julius Family..." Reinhardt frowned. "Bloodline freaks. They breed like wild dogs. Most of their bastards inherit crystalline eyes — a mark of their line."
"They don't care for loyalty, only spread. No other family has more low-tier talent scattered across the continent. A threat in numbers."
Lucas stared at the Julius crest, a spiral of mirrored shards. "If so many share their blood, how do they stay in power?"
"Because some of those bastards awaken stars they shouldn't. The last time one hit 9-star, three noble families went extinct within a year."
Reinhardt swept his hand over the glowing map once more. "Power doesn't only come from bloodlines and star ranks. In today's world, status is trained, tested, and displayed. And that happens in one place."
A new image appeared above the map: a towering, floating campus surrounded by spirit barriers — its central landmark a black obelisk rising into the clouds.
"Royal Star Academy," he said. "The greatest academy on the Human Continent. Only nobles, Pillar heirs, or those with overwhelming talent are accepted."
Elira stepped forward. "All four Pillar Families send their next generation there. It's not just education — it's a battlefield. Spirit duels, territory wars, and ranking ladders. Every future Soul King began in those halls."
"And every future enemy," Reinhardt added darkly. "Watch your steps there, Lucas. You're not the only flame rising."
Later, in the hall of elders, Lucas faced all twelve Black Elders for the first time since his awakening.
Each elder sat robed in black and gold. Their soul spirits hovered silently behind them — a raven made of smoke, a coin that never stopped spinning, a sword of paper that cut without contact.
"You hold what no one in our family has ever held," Elder Veylen said. "Dual divinity. You have the right to challenge for succession early."
"I don't want the seat," Lucas replied. "Not yet. I want power first. Not just titles."
Several elders murmured, amused.
Reinhardt raised a brow. "And what would you do with power?"
Lucas answered without hesitation. "I'll reach the 10th Star and claim a Domain. Then I'll tear open the path to the divine myself."
Just then, a sharp knock echoed through the strategy chamber.
A courier in academy uniform stepped in, bowed, and presented a crystal scroll.
Reinhardt opened it, his expression unreadable. "To Lucas Black, Divine Awakener: I, Adrian Campbell… challenge you to a public duel. Three days from now. Before the Awakening Monument."
Elira looked up sharply. "They're making his first appearance public? And at the Royal Star Academy no less…"
Lucas exhaled slowly, fire flickering at his fingertips. "Good."
"Let him come."
"Let the whole world watch," Lucas said, summoning a flicker of black flame to his palm. Behind him, Fenrir's spectral eyes gleamed.