Deep in the middle lands, where the ages changed like the leaves in autumn, the circle beast reflected with disdain on the path taken by its vessel, Marika's childe. From the moment it joined her, it hoped that its power would be used to establish an era of peace, enforcing its rule over not only the middle lands, but the shadow lands as well. But all Marika had done was perpetuate her vengeance, delegating her responsibility to her descendants. One after another, generations of her lineage failed to achieve what she herself had abandoned out of comfort or fear. That lack of ambition and purpose exhausted the beast's patience.
Marika, instead of mobilizing her brother, the relentless hunting dog who could have changed the fate of the middle lands, chose a more indirect path. She chose to have children in the hope that they would fulfill her wishes, a decision that, to the beast, was a sign of her weakness. Every act Marika did reinforced her perception that she did not have the mettle to fulfill the true potential of the power she shared with him. Even after her revenge against the horned ones, her vessel remained passive, using her faithful dog not as an agent of her will, but as an instrument for her ascension to godhood, a goal she should have achieved from the beginning.
The beast, tired of this inertia, made a drastic decision: to abandon Marika and create a new vessel worthy of her power. She examined Marika's descendants, but none met her expectations. All were marked by trauma, inferiority complexes, or deep resentments towards their mother. They were broken beings, incapable of carrying the beast's legacy. She considered humans as well, but found them insignificant, too fragile to bear her essence. With her options exhausted, she decided to create one of her own, a creature that would embody her vision of perfection and determination.
Taking his own divine essence, along with a fragment of Marika's, he began the process of creation. From the beginning, every detail was carefully crafted to be perfect. The new being would be a man, but with an appearance that defied simple gender categorizations. His sandy blonde hair fell in perfectly messy locks to the middle of his back, emitting a soft glow under the light, as if each strand was made of tempered gold. His eyes, a hypnotic mix of magenta and cyan, with slit-black pupils, seemed to contain entire galaxies, reflecting both the chaos and order of the universe. They were eyes that could read souls, inspire fear or trust with a single glance.
The face of the new vessel was a work of art, a perfect combination of masculine strength and feminine delicacy. He had high, defined cheekbones, a firm but not overly prominent jaw, and full lips that seemed sculpted to communicate both words of command and whispers of compassion. The skin, pale in tone with a faint golden glow, evoked both divinity and humanity, a perfect balance between both natures.
The body of the new being was equally impressive. Every muscle was meticulously formed, not to display brute strength, but to express an elegance and restrained power. Its torso was wide but proportionate, with strong shoulders that seemed capable of carrying the weight of the world. The arms were long and graceful, with large hands and slender fingers that could wield a sword with lethal precision or create art with finesse. The narrow waist expanded into slightly wider hips, creating a lithe and athletic figure.
The beast also endowed its creation with an imposing bearing. Despite being just over two meters tall, it was not its height that made it stand out, but the way it moved. Each step was charged with an unwavering confidence, as if the entire world belonged to it. Its movements were fluid and precise, a dance between strength and grace.
The clothing she wrapped him in was also special. He wore light armor, made of a dark metal that reflected the light with an iridescent sheen, as if it contained the night sky. The details were finely engraved, with ancient runes and symbols that seemed to come to life under certain conditions. The cloak he wore, a deep red, was lined with a golden fabric, symbolizing both his lineage and his new identity. Despite the richness of his attire, there was no unnecessary ostentation; everything served a functional purpose.
The beast also granted him innate skills and knowledge. He was a master in the art of war, with an instinctive understanding of strategy and combat. He also possessed a keen intellect, able to solve the most complex puzzles with ease. But beyond his skills, what made him truly special was his indomitable will. Unlike Marika and her descendants, this new being had a pure, burning ambition, a determination that could not be quenched.
When the creation process was complete, the beast looked upon his masterpiece with a satisfaction he had not felt in eons. This new vessel was not only worthy of his power, but also embodied everything he had dreamed of. It was the beginning of a new era, one in which there would be no room for weakness or indecision. This being, born from the combination of divinity and perfection, would carry his will into the darkest corners of the lands between, claiming what was rightfully his.
The new vessel opened its eyes for the first time, and the world seemed to stand still. In its gaze, the beast saw the reflection of its own power, amplified and perfected. It smiled in satisfaction, knowing that it had created something that would not only meet its expectations, but surpass them. This being was not only its new vessel; it was its legacy, its champion, and the bearer of an ambition that would change the fate of the lands between forever.
The Circle Beast looked at its creation, and for the first time in eons, a spark of genuine satisfaction lit its gaze. In front of it, its vessel, perfect in design and essence, looked back with an enigmatic smile. It was a smile full of promise, of a potential that was only just beginning to awaken. Yet beneath that innate confidence that the Beast had imbued in it, it could also sense a lack of experience, an absence of scars from the world, and the innocence of a newborn being. This being was powerful, yes, but it still lacked the cunning and wisdom that are only gained through trials and failures.
To the Beast, this was not a flaw; it was a necessary step. Even a masterpiece needs time to reach its full splendor. She knew she could not immediately cast it into the Lands Between, a place rife with intrigue, danger, and calculating minds. Despite its potential, her new creation would be like a lamb among wolves in a territory where even the gods had fallen prey to their own machinations. Marika, though useless in combat, was cunning like few others, and her ability to manipulate and corrupt was a danger the Beast could not underestimate. If his creation arrived before he was ready, it would be nothing more than another piece in the Everqueen's chess game.
With that certainty, the Beast made a decision. "You need to be tempered," he murmured, his voice reverberating with the depth of distant thunder. "The time in the Lands Between will come, but it will not be today." His piercing gaze softened for an instant, almost as if a hint of tenderness crept into his solemn resolve. With a wave of his hand, he summoned an energy that seemed to come from the very core of the cosmos. It was an iridescent glow that danced between shades of gold, purple, and white, enveloping his creation in a warm glow.
The vessel showed no fear. Its magenta and cyan eyes fixed on the Beast with a mix of curiosity and trust, as if it knew this step was part of a greater destiny it could not yet fully understand. The smile remained on its lips as the glow enveloped it, making it seem less like a corporeal figure and more like a fragment of a star torn from the night sky.
The Beast closed its eyes and began to call upon a distant destination, a land that was not connected to the Lands Between but would offer the challenges necessary for its creation to flourish. It was a place full of conflict, where magic and sword coexisted in a precarious balance, and where the forces of light and darkness constantly clashed. There, his creation would learn to wield its power, make choices, and face the consequences of its actions. It was an ideal testing ground, a place where the fire of adversity would forge its character and its ability to lead.
As the glow reached its peak, the Beast allowed itself a moment of reflection. "You are the first of your kind," it thought to itself. "Not a puppet, not a pawn, but a king in training. When you return, you will be more than a vessel; you will be the rightful ruler of what is rightfully mine." A fierce smile spread across its face, one that held a mix of pride and anticipation.
Finally, the glow began to dissipate. In a final flash, its creation disappeared, leaving behind only an echo of energy in the air. The Beast stood silent for a moment, staring at the empty space where its vessel had been. Though it knew the wait would be long, it also knew it would be worth it. It had set in motion a plan that not even Marika could foresee, a move that would change the course of the Lands Between forever.
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He slowly opened his eyes, blinking to adjust to the change in his surroundings. His gaze met a sky partially covered by the treetops, whose leaves formed a mosaic of greens and golds, filtering the light in soft beams that caressed the ground. The forest around him seemed to breathe a life of its own: the sounds of animals, the rustling of the wind through the branches, and the occasional rustling of dry leaves composed a quiet but vibrant symphony. It was a strange and unfamiliar place, but he felt no fear. Instead, a calm curiosity settled in his mind, as if something inside him told him that this was only the beginning of something much bigger.
Slowly rising, he rose from the ground with graceful, fluid movements, as if his body was perfectly synchronized with the natural forces around him. As he stood up, the environment seemed to grow smaller around him, not because of his height—though he was imposing—but because of the intensity of his presence. It was as if the forest itself had held its breath, aware that something out of the ordinary had come into its bosom.
Looking around, he took note of the details of the forest. The trees were tall and sturdy, with trunks that looked like they had withstood centuries of wind and rain. The ground was covered in moss, fallen leaves, and twisted roots that spread like arteries beneath his feet. There was an air of tranquility, but also a sense of expectation, as if the very environment knew something was about to happen. Then, a sound broke the calm: human voices, mixed with laughter and the occasional crack of branches.
He turned his head towards the direction the noise had come from, and his eyes sparkled with renewed interest. Without a second thought, he began walking towards the source of the voices, his footsteps barely disturbing the forest floor. He wasn't trying to hide, though; his movements, though gentle, were deliberate. He wanted to be noticed. Each footstep made a faint sound as it crushed the dry leaves, and every branch it brushed against seemed to resonate with almost calculated intent. Finally, he came to a clearing where the voices grew clearer, and as he pushed aside one last branch, he saw a group of people.
There were six figures, all of them redheads, with hair varying between shades of bright copper and deep scarlet. Five of them were men, and their posture spoke of alertness and distrust. The sixth figure, sheltered in the center of the group, was a woman dressed in a white kimono with green embroidery on the edges. Her long, fire-colored hair was partially pulled back, letting a few strands fall over her shoulders. Her hands rested at her sides, but her eyes held a shrewd look, as if she were assessing every detail of the stranger who had just arrived.
The group was clearly on guard, their movements synchronized and their kunais already drawn, pointing toward the stranger who dared to interrupt their conversation. The woman in the center raised a hand, as if signaling the others not to attack immediately, but her expression remained serious and analytical. Unfazed, the newly created being stepped forward, deliberately making a sound with his boots as he stepped on a branch, drawing the group's full attention.
"Stop!" one of the men shouted, his voice deep and heavy with authority. His kunai flashed in the filtered light of the forest as he pointed it directly at the intruder. "Show your face and tell us who you are."
The being raised both hands in a gesture of apparent surrender, taking another step forward, just enough to step out of the shadows of the trees and allow the light to fall upon him. When his face was exposed, the group was momentarily stunned. His sandy blonde hair, which seemed to glow with a glow of its own, contrasted with the darkness of the forest. His eyes, that duality of magenta and cyan with slit pupils, were almost hypnotic. The air around him seemed to vibrate with an energy that was impossible to ignore.
who had spoken first narrowed his eyes, gritting his teeth. It was clear that he did not trust the newcomer, but even he could not deny the strange majesty of his presence. The woman, on the other hand, remained calm. Her eyes studied every detail of the stranger: his relaxed yet imposing posture, the calmness in his expression, and that barely perceptible smile that seemed laden with an unfathomable enigma.
"Who are you?" the woman asked finally, her voice soft but firm. It was the voice of someone used to leading, to being listened to. Her words were not a plea, but a demand.
The being tilted its head slightly, as if considering how to respond. Its smile widened a little, revealing a flash of confidence that seemed almost innate. Finally, it spoke, and its voice echoed with a cadence that made even the wind seem to stop to listen.
"A traveler," it answered, its tone calm and deep, but charged with a force that did not need to be raised to be felt. "I do not seek a fight, only knowledge… and perhaps something more."
The words seemed ambiguous, but there was something in the way it said them that made them sound sincere. Still, the men did not lower their weapons, and one of them even stepped forward, his kunai still pointed at the stranger.
"That is not enough," he growled, clearly irritated. "Where do you come from?" What do you want from us?
The being looked directly at him, and for a moment, the redhead paused, as if something in that gaze had disarmed him more than any physical attack. Then, the newcomer responded just as calmly.
"From a far away place. And what I want…" He paused, letting his words hang in the air for a moment before continuing. "Maybe I'll find out when I get to know us better."
The woman raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into a slight smile that didn't reach her eyes. She seemed intrigued, but not convinced. With a gesture of her hand, she indicated for the men to back off, though not entirely. Her posture remained cautious.
"If your intentions are as peaceful as you say, then you'll have no problem staying at a distance," she said, her tone making it clear that she wasn't going to tolerate any nonsense. "But if you take a single wrong step, I won't hesitate to order my men to eliminate you."
The being nodded serenely, taking a step back in respect. But as he did so, his eyes shone again with that disturbing duality, and his enigmatic smile returned. Deep inside, he knew that this meeting was no mere coincidence. These people would be the beginning of something great, even if they didn't know it yet.
With his hands still raised and his expression imperturbable, the blond remained silent, allowing the moment to stretch out. His gaze swept over the redheads surrounding him, maintaining his enigmatic smile, enough to intrigue but not so much as to be considered an open provocation. The men pointing their kunais at him did not let their guard down, although their gazes oscillated between bewilderment and distrust. Meanwhile, the woman in the center of the group watched him intently, as if she were looking for something beyond the visible.
Finally, it was she who broke the silence. Her voice, although soft, had an edge sharpened by experience and leadership.
"What clan do you come from, stranger?" she asked, her eyes narrowing as she examined him from head to toe.
The blond tilted his head slightly, as if he were pondering the question. For a moment, he seemed to weigh how to answer, aware that any wrong word could put him in danger. Finally, he raised an eyebrow and, with a calm but confident tone, replied
"I don't really belong to any clan, as you call it, or any specific place. I was just born."
The sincerity of his words, delivered with a calmness that seemed impossible for someone in his position, left the redheads even more bewildered. The men looked at each other, their expressions reflecting both disbelief and a hint of doubt. No one spoke so calmly in a situation like that, let alone someone who claimed to have been "born" recently.
However, the woman did not take her eyes off him. Using her sensory abilities, she reached out with her chakra to sense any deception in his words, but what she found was unexpected: there was no falsehood in his statement. In fact, what she sensed was even more disturbing. His chakra was dense and strange, but at the same time, lacking the usual patterns of humans or even the most experienced ninja. This only made his statement all the more peculiar, but something in her intuition told her that this stranger was no immediate threat.
"It's strange what you say," the woman admitted, crossing her arms in front of her chest as she looked at him with a mix of curiosity and distrust, "but I can sense that you're not lying. Still, we can't just let you go. If you've seen us, you pose a risk to us. So you have two options: we can kill you right here, or you come with us."
The clarity of the threat left no room for doubt. The men around her nodded, stiffening their stances as they prepared for any suspicious movement. The blond, however, showed no signs of discomfort. Instead, his smile remained intact, and he nodded serenely.
"I will go with you peacefully," he replied, as calmly as he had shown from the beginning.
The answer seemed genuine, but the redheads did not let their guard down. Two of them approached cautiously, each holding an object that looked like a paper stamp with symbols engraved on it in black ink. With quick, precise movements, one of them pressed the seal against the blond's chest, while the other stood behind him, ready to hold him down should he try to resist. However, he showed no adverse reaction; on the contrary, he allowed the seals to be placed without resistance.
The redhead behind him, noticing his passivity, frowned.
"You're not going to resist?" he asked suspiciously, as if the lack of struggle was, in itself, a provocation.
The blond turned his head slightly towards him, maintaining the same calm smile.
"If I wanted to resist, I would have already done so, don't you think?" he replied, with a tone that was both friendly and slightly disconcerting.
The comment made the redhead grit his teeth, but he didn't reply. Instead, he made sure the seal was properly placed before quickly backing away, keeping his distance. The woman, who had been watching everything in silence, stepped forward, assessing him once more. Though she didn't trust him completely, she couldn't ignore the fact that his behavior so far had been surprisingly cooperative.
"Good. Now that you're sealed, you'll walk ahead of us," she ordered, gesturing toward the path that led out of the clearing. "Don't try anything, or the seals will activate and you'll end up wishing you'd chosen the other option."
The blond nodded again, raising his hands in a gesture of submission before taking the first step. As he began to walk, the redheads formed a formation around him: two in front, two behind, and one on either side. It was clear they weren't willing to take any chances, even with the seals in place. As they moved forward, the woman walked in the center of the group, her eyes never leaving the blond, as if she were trying to figure out the riddle he represented.
The forest around them began to change. The trees were growing denser, and the ground was covered with more prominent roots that forced walkers to move carefully. However, the blond seemed to slip between the obstacles with an almost supernatural ease, as if the forest itself accepted him as part of itself. This detail did not go unnoticed by the woman, who made a mental note of each movement.
The path was silent, save for the crunch of leaves under the group's feet. The red-haired men said nothing, but their gazes constantly returned to the stranger, watching for any sign of betrayal. For his part, the blond showed no interest in escaping or causing trouble. Instead, he seemed to observe his surroundings with genuine curiosity, as if he were absorbing every detail of the forest and the people escorting him.
After a while, one of the men broke the silence.
"You said you were just born. What does that mean exactly?" he asked, unable to contain his curiosity.
The blond turned his head slightly toward him, but did not stop walking.
"Exactly what I said. My existence began a few hours ago. I have no previous memories, no home, no clan. But that does not mean I do not have a purpose."
The answer, although cryptic, did not sound false. This only increased the group's discomfort, but the woman, who had been listening intently, intervened before anyone else could ask another question.
"That's enough. We'll get to camp and then we'll talk more. For now, keep watch."
The group nodded, and silence returned as they continued to advance. Although they didn't know it yet, that encounter would mark the beginning of a series of events that would change not only their lives, but also the fate of the lands they inhabited. And as he walked, the blond continued to smile, his mind already imagining how these first encounters would begin to shape the new era he had been destined to forge.
And end of the chapter