A legend told that far, far away, on the edge of the magical realms, there was a city, a great black city built on a mountain famous for its curse.
Only the black mages and all those who were deeply linked to the darkness were allowed to enter this place of the night, feared by all. It was there, far from the light, that a young boy named Miron was imprisoned. He lived within the walls of a huge building, among other children, under the domination of a banished black mage, who tried to subdue him because of his rebellious and untamable nature. Miron did not know how to break free from this terrible prison. But opportunity knocked in the year he turned thirteen when he discovered a power his dark tormentors wished he had never known.

The Prince Of Mages

And after saying this, he increased the glow of his magical aura, lighting up the whole place with an unbearable fiery red, and thus exposing Vradiome, which straightened up with pride and defiance stepped into the middle of the terrace, and took out the only torture weapon he had taken from his pursuer, brandishing it with class. The Ogoun tool that Mrax had coveted so much that he managed to get it. A saber with a slightly curved blade, empty in the middle, made of transparent metal that caught all the light, and whose handle was made of a black metal encrusted with precious stones, including a driome. 


"And it is with this ridiculous weapon although beautiful that you think you can stop me, especially in this moment when never was the rage in me greater! A murderous rage!" 


"No Mrax, this is just the beginning!" 


Mrax stared at him with his demented eyes before shaking his head, accentuating the power of his burning aura. 


Beginning