The World Beyond

After the sparring session concluded early in the morning, we shuffled into the lecture hall for geography, a subject I had always found simultaneously fascinating and intimidating. Medea stood at the front of the room, her sharp violet eyes scanning the students as she unfurled a map with a flick of her wrist. The parchment, worn at the edges but richly detailed, revealed the expanse of our continent.

"This," Medea began, her voice calm yet commanding, "is Aetheria."

Her hand hovered over the map, a single, precise finger pointing to the center. The continent was vast, its boundaries stretching out like a great beast sleeping beneath the skies. Rivers cut through its landmass like veins, forests sprawled in green patches, and mountains rose like jagged scars.

"This is the world you are part of," she continued, "though for most of you, it might as well have been the entire world. Aetheria has been our cradle, our battleground, and our lifeline for generations."

She stepped closer to the map, her voice taking on a cadence that made me lean forward without realizing it. "Aetheria is home to three Empires and countless Kingdoms. These Kingdoms are ranked by power and influence, with Tier 2 being the most common—Kingdoms strong enough to hold their own but unable to rival the might of an Empire. Our own, the Kingdom of Thane, is one such Kingdom."

Her finger traced a small, unassuming corner of the map. "This is where we are. The Kingdom of Thane, tucked away near the continent's edge, close to the ocean but shielded by natural barriers. For much of our history, we were isolated, content to thrive within our borders. It wasn't until contact with the Empires that we began to understand just how vast and dangerous Aetheria truly is."

Her eyes flicked back to the class, sharp as a hawk's. "We are considered a Tier 2 Kingdom, powerful within our own sphere but limited on the broader stage. Why? Because while we stand at the peak of Gold-grade summoning, we have never—until now—produced a Diamond-grade summoner."

The room tensed. It didn't take a genius to know who she was referring to. My cheeks flushed as I felt the weight of everyone's gazes, though I kept my head down, feigning interest in my notes.

"To be a Tier 1 Kingdom," Medea continued, sparing me from further embarrassment, "a nation must produce and sustain Diamond-grade summoners, though not in sufficient numbers to claim the status of an Empire. These Tier 1 Kingdoms are powerful, their influence stretching far beyond their borders, but even they pale in comparison to the three Empires that dominate Aetheria."

Her hand swept across the map, outlining the great swathes of land held by those three titanic forces. "Empires are an entirely different league. They have quite a few Diamond-grade summoners. Their borders are expansive, their power overwhelming, their ambitions unrelenting."

Her voice softened, though it lost none of its intensity. "And yet, we are part of this world. Whether we wish it or not, we are players on the stage of Aetheria, where the strong devour the weak, and even the smallest ripple can reshape the tide."

The room was silent, the map's edges fluttering slightly as though it too bore the weight of Medea's words. She allowed the quiet to stretch, her gaze sweeping across the class as if daring us to challenge the truths she had laid bare.

"For now, you are students," she said at last, her tone lighter, though the edge of steel remained. "But soon, you will leave these walls, and the world will demand more of you than you can imagine. Remember this map. Remember your place within it. And strive to rise higher."

As Medea turned her attention back to the map, I couldn't help but let my gaze linger on the small mark that represented the Kingdom of Thane. So insignificant, so fragile, compared to the vast expanse of Empires and Tier 1 Kingdoms that dominated the continent.

And yet, here I was—a Diamond-grade summoner, the first in the Kingdom of Thane's history.

But any pride or reassurance I might have felt was swiftly dampened by Medea's next words.

"However," she said, her voice heavy with the weight of her words, "our worries extend far beyond the Empires."

She turned back to the map, her fingers moving deliberately as she pointed to five ominously marked regions scattered across the continent. The areas were shaded in deep, foreboding colors, their borders etched with jagged lines that seemed almost alive.

"These," she said, her tone grim, "are the Forbidden Zones."

A murmur rippled through the room. Even I, with my limited knowledge of the wider world, knew the name. The Forbidden Zones were legendary, spoken of in hushed tones even in the safety of the capital.

"They are domains of Eterna beasts," Medea continued, her words slicing cleanly through the rising whispers. "Beasts so powerful they have carved out entire territories for themselves, where even the Empires dare not tread lightly."

Her hand hovered over one of the zones, an expanse near the heart of Aetheria. "These zones are not merely regions of danger—they are kingdoms unto themselves. Each ruled by an Eterna beast, fully matured and commanding armies of lesser creatures."

The room was silent, save for the faint rustle of maps and notes as students scrambled to keep up.

"Why don't the Empires deal with them?" Prince Valkas asked, his crimson eyes gleaming with curiosity. His voice carried that distinct royal confidence, the kind that assumed every problem had a solution—if only the right person wielded enough power.

Medea's lips curved into a faint, humorless smile. "A fair question, Your Highness," she said, her tone almost sardonic. "And the answer is both simple and complicated: cost."

She tapped her finger against one of the Forbidden Zones. "Each of these zones is home to an Eterna beast—or multiple, according to some accounts. These aren't your average Eterna beasts, either. From what we know, they are Beta and Omega-grade, fully matured with at least eight cores. Such beings are not only incomprehensibly powerful but also command legions of lower creatures. Clearing these zones would require a monumental expenditure of firepower."

Her finger traced the zone's jagged borders. "And that firepower would need to come from the Empires' most powerful summoners, their most mature summons. The cost in resources, time, and lives would be staggering. And for what? Land that offers no immediate strategic or economic value? No. The Empires have decided it's better to leave these zones untouched, a problem to be managed rather than solved."

The room buzzed with unease. The idea of such beasts—creatures so powerful that even the Empires hesitated to face them—was terrifying enough. The thought that they might someday grow bored of their isolation and venture beyond their borders was worse.

"What do we know about these beasts?" Valkas pressed, his tone more serious now.

Medea sighed, her violet eyes briefly meeting his. "Very little," she admitted. "Their existence is well-documented, but their specifics remain elusive. The few reports we have suggest they are extremely intelligent and capable of long-term planning. They seem to have little interest in the affairs of mortals—thankfully—but their armies of lesser beasts often spill into nearby territories, wreaking havoc."

She paused, letting the weight of her words settle. "The most terrifying aspect, however, is their potential. Fully matured Eterna beasts with eight or more cores are not mere threats—they are forces of nature. Any one of them could destroy our entire kingdom."

A chill ran down my spine. Aria, for all her overwhelming power, was still young, still incomplete. The idea of facing something like the Eterna beasts Medea described… it was almost incomprehensible.

"The Forbidden Zones," Medea concluded, her voice low and steady, "are not places to be conquered. They are places to be respected, avoided, and—if you're very unlucky—survived. Remember that."

She stepped back from the map, her gaze sweeping over the room. "Now, take your notes. Memorize these locations. Because one day, you may find yourselves far closer to them than you'd like."

I glanced at the jagged markings on the map, my grip on my grimoire tightening. These zones, these beasts—they weren't just distant threats. They were reminders of the sheer scale of the world I had only just begun to step into.

And somewhere, deep in the recesses of my mind, a thought took root: if these zones were places to be avoided, what would it mean if I—or worse, Aria—became something just as feared?