ArslanSaeed09

In the realm of Lumisgrave, humanity is thrust into chaos when ancient Vaults—portals to the demon world—begin to open. With devils emerging and darkness creeping across the lands, humanity's only hope lies in those who awaken strange powers from the Surge—each individual ranked by the mysterious P.R.I.M.E. system: Omega, Alpha, Mythic, Apex, and Zenith.

Among them is Arslan, a quiet and conflicted young man burdened with a harrowing destiny. Unbeknownst to most, he is the vessel of Kar’Thæl, a fallen entity once feared by the demons themselves. While the world sees Arslan as another Mythic-ranked warrior, deep inside him dwells a power both feared and hunted—one that could save the world or doom it.

As friendships form, betrayals unfold, and demons invade, Arslan must learn to master his devastating abilities, earn back the trust of those he once pushed away, and unravel the truth behind the demon attacks. When the monstrous demon ZARELLE invades, it sparks a battle that reshapes the world’s balance—and awakens Arslan’s true strength.

But darker forces stir beyond the Vaults.

Ancient demon lords—Nyzora, Shadrak, and Valgorr—prepare a wild card no one expects. As Arslan begins forging his legacy and his mythic allies rise in power, the fate of their world, their families, and their hearts will depend on what he chooses:

Break the bond, or burn the world.

AK : RISING MYTHIC

The moonlight shimmered gently over the Mythic Base courtyard, bathing the stone paths in a silver hue. The stars hung bright in the velvet sky, and the soft rustle of the trees danced to the tune of the midnight wind. Dinner had ended. Plates were cleared, laughter had faded, and one by one, the Mythic-ranked Knights had retired to their quarters for rest.

Arslan and Nirela remained seated on a stone bench under a flowering tree, petals occasionally drifting down around them. The warmth from the courtyard lamps lit their faces softly, casting a golden hue over the moment.

Nirela glanced sideways at Arslan with a slight smile, tucking a strand of her silvery-blue hair behind her ear. "You were talking about meeting someone? You mentioned it… a few days ago."

Arslan looked at her gently, his usual stern features softened. "Yes," he said quietly. "I will take you to meet her."

Nirela tilted her head, curious. "Who is she?"

"My mother," he said, voice steady but touched with warmth. "I want you to meet her."

Nirela's eyes lit up, a sudden mix of surprise and emotion crossing her face. "Really?" she asked, her voice hushed in awe. "You… want me to meet your mother?"

Arslan nodded. "You deserve that part of me too."

Nirela's cheeks turned a shade pinker as she nodded. "When?"

Arslan leaned back slightly on the bench, watching the night sky above them. "Be ready tomorrow, by afternoon," he said calmly. "I'll come to get you."

Nirela placed her hand over his, her smile now blooming in full. "I will," she said. "I'll be ready."

A peaceful silence settled between them for a moment. A gentle breeze carried the scent of blossoms across the courtyard. The leaves rustled above them like a lullaby.

Then, slowly, the conversation shifted — into softness, into warmth. They talked, quietly and freely.

About dreams they once had before the powers ever awakened.

About the chaos of being Mythic-ranked, and the peace they missed from simpler days.

Nirela leaned her head gently against Arslan's shoulder. "You're softer than you look, you know," she whispered.

Arslan chuckled under his breath. "Don't tell the others."

Arslan glanced down at her, his voice low. "You know, ever since the first day… I felt something. But I didn't understand it. I thought power was all I needed to stand strong."

Nirela murmured, "Sometimes… we need someone to remind us that strength isn't always loud. Sometimes, it's the silence after a long day. Or a moment like this."

Arslan closed his eyes for a moment, letting the weight of her words settle.

They stayed like that — talking, smiling, whispering confessions they wouldn't dare say in daylight — for almost an hour.

When the courtyard lights dimmed to signal approaching midnight, Nirela stood, brushing her hands softly on her skirt. "I'll go," she said, pausing for a second, "but… I'm really happy."

Arslan stood beside her. "Me too."

She turned, began walking toward her corridor — then paused, turned her head with a shy smile, and said, "Don't forget... tomorrow."

Then both returned to their rooms — hearts lighter, minds calmer — the night around them a quiet witness to a promise made under starlight...

PROMISE IN THE COURTYARD