Competition

Wes floated, his mind drifting through memories as the void curled around him.

Humanity on Earth had been completely unprepared for what was coming.

When mana arrived, Earth itself changed. The landmass expanded, the planet's surface nearly doubling in size. More land. More resources. More places for danger to hide.

At first, the changes had been small. Goblins had appeared, and the wildlife had grown stronger, more aggressive. But when the first surge hit, it became a different game altogether.

Stronger. Wilder. More portals.

Later, Gorrak had laughed, calling the races who lived on planets frogs at the bottom of wells, unable to grasp the vastness of the universe beyond their own skies.

When mana first arrived, Earth had been an open treasure chest—little risk, high reward. To the orcs, it was a land waiting to be picked clean. They took advantage of the chaos, hoarding materials, scouting the terrain, and laying the groundwork for something bigger.

They were there to train.

To build a foothold.

To watch.

Humans in the universe were… underwhelming. There were exceptions, but they were rare. Human apex cultivators were merely that—rare.

When human worlds awakened to mana, they usually had two options: submit to stronger races or be taken over.

Because humans had nothing.

No bloodlines. No innate affinities.

Orcs had both.

They carried affinities—most commonly tied to fire or earth—elements that shaped their nature and enhanced their essence.

And they carried bloodlines, inherited from ancient beasts, usually strengthening their endurance, constitution, and raw physical power. Simple. Efficient.

But that was before the void crystals.

They had changed everything for humans.

A thousand years before Earth awakened to mana, void crystals had begun appearing on human planets.

Wes floated, turning the thought over in his mind.

Void crystals were strange things.

You couldn't destroy them. Break one, and it would reform. If the bearer died before their Great Awakening, the crystal would reappear on their corpse, waiting for another to claim it.

They were black as the void itself, scattered with stars—constellations woven into their depths.

And if you understood those constellations, you could predict what the crystal would grant.

A bloodline.

An elemental affinity.

Something entirely random.

Some were worthless. Others were absurdly powerful.

And then there were the strange ones.

Like the man whose void crystal gave him an unnatural sense of smell.

At first, it seemed useless. But then he started to notice things—scents that hinted at hidden treasure, at danger, at the unseen.

That ability had made him a legend. A treasure hunter. A thief. A man who could walk into ruins blindfolded and come out richer than kings.

Wes smirked.

Void crystals could turn nobodies into something more.

They could make warriors out of humans.

And they had given humanity its first real chance to stand.

God, Wes had been excited when they announced that every recruit who passed Gra'zuk would be bestowed a void crystal.

The best performers would get first choice.

Void crystals themselves weren't rare, but the truly powerful, unique ones were.

Wes had always liked winning, and he had set his sights on the prize from the beginning, he wanted the best void crystal.

But he and the orcs were in for a big surprise.