Dawn broke over Black Tower, casting warm golden light on the obsidian spires that had long watched over Axis City. The entire estate buzzed with activity — servants loading crates, elders issuing final instructions, and spirit beasts pacing near the grand courtyard. Today marked the day Lucas Black would leave for Royal Star Academy.
He stood before the entrance, dressed in a formal black traveling coat lined with runes of flame and frost. Fenrir's sigil hung at his side, while the Amaterasu pendant glowed faintly beneath his collar.
His mother, Selene Black, adjusted his collar. "Don't overtrain. Balance is as important as strength."
Lucas nodded. "Yes, Mother."
His father, Reinhardt Black, stood nearby, arms crossed as usual.
"You will not be alone at the academy," he said. "Heirs of all the Pillar Families are moving. Each family's greatest talent in centuries is on their way."
Lucas raised a brow. "So I'm not the only one they've been preparing."
"No. This is a Golden Generation. The kind that rewrites history."
The twelve Black Elders stood behind Reinhardt in full regalia, each offering their own warnings and well-wishes. Elder Caelus stepped forward last, handing Lucas a ring inlaid with soul crystal.
"Should you find yourself surrounded by enemies, activate this. It'll buy you enough time to retaliate or escape. The academy is neutral — but ambition makes fools brave."
Lucas pocketed it without a word.
Then, with a final bow to his parents and the elders, he stepped aboard the spirit rail carriage awaiting him at the tower's base.
As the train lifted into the sky, cutting across the horizon on glowing rails of condensed spirit force, Lucas's eyes sharpened.
"I'm not going there to study," he murmured.
"I'm going there to dominate."
---
By dawn of that same day, Lucas Black's name had already surged through every corner of the Human Continent. Spirit forums, noble networks, and intelligence channels of foreign races were flooded with one headline:
Lucas Black defeats Adrian Campbell — Divine awakener confirmed.
In the weeks that followed, Royal Star Academy transformed. It was no longer just a training ground — it had become the stage for the unfolding era that elders, prophets, and spirit seers were already whispering about.
> The Golden Generation.
An unprecedented convergence of monstrous talents, one from each Pillar Family — each stronger than any heir produced since the age of their Founders.
The academy's ranking halls were remodeled to accommodate a new tier: Crown Class — reserved only for divine-rank awakeners and future 9-stars. For the first time in centuries, the rankings were no longer static. They were war zones.
---
Far to the east, deep in the martial lands of the Campbells, Adrian Campbell sat at the center of his clan's war pavilion, surrounded by generals and elders.
He wore traveling armor and had one arm still wrapped in healing bands.
"You'll face him again," said his grandfather, the Ironblood Duke. "And when you do, make sure you've learned more than how to lose."
Adrian didn't respond. He already knew Lucas's name would haunt him until their next battle. But he wasn't afraid. He was sharpening his edge.
Nearby, his younger sister, Elayne Campbell, trained in silence — a rare 8-star with dual blade spirits. Even she had heard the name Lucas Black.
"I'll watch him too," she said calmly. "Just in case you fail again."
---
In the frost-stone halls of House Julius, dozens of crystalline-eyed youths gathered for departure.
A man stood at the balcony overlooking them — tall, elegant, with a smile that never reached his eyes. Patriarch Cassian Julius.
"Spread out once you arrive. Don't gather too close. You are all bastards, but some of you may yet earn legitimacy — if you surpass the Black Flame."
From the crowd stepped Seren Julius, the one they called the Mirror Serpent. Her eyes glowed faintly.
"He's strong," she admitted. "But he's not invincible."
Cassian's smile widened. "Not yet."
---
In the forge-cradled mountain estates of the Lamberg clan, steam and spirit smoke billowed as their heir emerged from the heart of the forgemaster's sanctuary.
He was a tall boy, skin kissed with ember-gold, his back marked by the coiled brand of a molten panther spirit. Thorne Lamberg, their youngest 9-star.
The forge-master nodded. "You'll meet monsters at Royal Star. Remember: metal sharpens against metal."
Thorne simply grunted. "Let's see how divine his flame really is."
---
At the highest tower of the academy, in a sealed, frostbound chamber, Lucas trained in silence.
Black flame in one hand.
Fenrir's silver frost in the other.
Balancing opposites. Channeling chaos.
Every movement tore the room apart — walls froze and ignited with each clash of essence.
He wasn't content with just power.
He wanted mastery.
Behind him, Elira appeared silently, arms crossed.
"You're pushing your soul too fast," she warned.
Lucas didn't stop.
"I have to. The others won't wait."
She stepped closer. "You've lit a fire under every Pillar Family. The Julius bastards are gathering. The Lamberg forge-sons are sending envoys. Even the outer nobles want to test their luck."
Lucas let the flames and frost spiral up his arms.
"Good," he said. "Let them come."
---
That night, the sky above Royal Star Academy shimmered with a rare spirit flare — a phenomenon said to appear only when multiple high-tier awakenings occur in a short period.
From the Flamewatch Tower, the headmaster looked out over the glowing sky.
"Seven confirmed 8-stars this semester. Three 9-stars. One dual divine. Hah… what are the heavens planning?"
Behind him, a spirit elder bowed low. "The Golden Generation is real. It's begun."
And across the continent, buried deep in forbidden ruins, a cracked monument pulsed for the first time in centuries.
A single word appeared on its surface.
'Divine Convergence.'