Ishtara was once known as the most militarized city on the face of the planet.
Why?
Because Ishtara was the capital of Kandara, a region positioned exactly equidistant from three Safe Zones — North, East, and Central.
This strategically perfect location made it one of the most contested territories in existence, with all three Monarchs vying for control over it.
At first, the three Monarchs kept their ambitions subtle and only quietly exerted their influence over Ishtara.
But that all changed the day a Phase-4 Portal appeared there.
Let me clarify, there are two kinds of Portals.
The first kind is Natural.
Natural Portals are caused by deaths.
When creatures die, their souls are released into the world, adding pressure to the fabric of reality.
Over time, that pressure builds up and thins the boundary between worlds.
Portals are tears in this fabric — a rift between our world and the Spirit Realm.
Natural Portals don’t just defy space. They also defy everything we understand about time itself.
These Portals are classified as Phase-1, Phase-2, or Phase-3, depending on their size, whether they can close on their own, and how catastrophic their impact could be.
But things change when you get to Phase-4.
You see, if the veil of reality grows thin enough, something powerful from the other side can force its way through and create a bridge.
This process is unnatural, but it isn’t uncommon.
As creatures grow stronger, their souls emit something called Spirit Force — a pressure they can use to influence the world around them.
Their will becomes capable of bending reality itself. To an extent, at least.
Some powerful abominations in the Spirit Realm can use their Spirit Force to tear through the veil and enter our world.
These Portals are called Forced Portals.
And they’re classified from Phase-4 to Phase-9.
On a side note, humans can do it too. Any Awakened individual above [A-Rank] can force open a Portal to the Spirit Realm, given the right conditions.
The key difference is this — Forced Portals aren’t random. They’re maintained.
If a Phase-4 Portal opens, it means something on the other side is holding it open — either several Lesser Spirits working together or one Greater Spirit with enough power to break through.
So, why was the appearance of a Phase-4 Portal in Ishtara such a big deal?
Because now it wasn’t only about control of a strategic territory, it was also about resources.
A Phase-4 Portal wasn’t just a breach in reality.
It was an opportunity.
You see, by that time, humanity had already conquered several deadly regions of the Spirit Realm and expanded its foothold into another world.
The appearance of a Phase-4 Portal meant that a Greater Spirit Beast had opened it.
And since Greater Spirit Beasts only resided in regions beyond humanity-conquered territories, the Portal meant something monumental.
It meant another uncharted region waiting to be conquered.
A new region meant danger, but it also promised unimaginable rewards.
With a gateway to an unclaimed territory, the possibilities were endless — anything like rare materials, powerful artifacts, ancient knowledge.
The prize was irresistible.
Sure, someone had to slay the Greater Spirit Beast and all its thralls first, but the rewards far outweighed the risks.
Naturally, the Monarchs clashed for it.
Well, their armies did.
The conflict spilled enough blood and damned enough souls to further weaken the already fragile veil of reality in Ishtara.
Before long, amid the war, a Phase-5 Portal appeared in the city’s heart.
That incident only further raised the stakes.
A Phase-5 Portal meant the arrival of an Ancient Spirit Beast.
More danger. More treasure. A bigger, deadlier, and an even mystical region to explore.
The war for the control of Kandara escalated into an inferno. And its capital itself, Ishtara, was soon consumed by a bloody civil war.
Those were horrible times.
The three Safe Zones locked themselves in a stalemate of relentless carnage. It seemed there would be no end to this war for resources.
Until the Southern Monarch, Seraphina the Flame Queen, sought help from the outside.
She turned to the Western Monarch, Alderic the Sun Sovereign.
Alderic agreed to help. But he didn’t send mere troops or weapons.
He sent his greatest warrior — Arthur Kaizer Theosbane, my father.
With his tyrannical powers and unmatched war intellect, my father easily broke the century-long deadlock and secured Seraphina’s victory.
But by the war’s end, another Phase-4 Portal had appeared in Ishtara.
Three high-ranked Portals.
Almost a century of war.
Kandara was in ruins.
Its people were broken. Their homes reduced to ash and rubble. Their spirits dimmed by decades of bloodshed.
The region was haunted by echoes of a war that had claimed countless lives and fractured its society almost beyond repair.
Rebuilding Kandara would take generations.
But even though the war had ended, the conflict between the Monarchs hadn’t.
Kandara’s strategic position became a threat to the other two Monarchs now that Seraphina was controlling it.
Under the Central Monarch’s rule, Ishtara became a potential launch point for her to deploy troops and attack the Northern and Eastern Safe-Zones.
Of course, that would have been foolish, and she wasn’t going to do it.
But after decades of war, none of the Monarchs trusted one another.
To prevent further conflict, the Central Monarch proposed a treaty — she wouldn’t deploy more troops in Kandara than was necessary to extract and transport resources from the Portals.
The other Monarchs would back off as well.
And that was the problem.
The Resource War, and the Civil War, had only ended nine years ago.
Kandara was still rebuilding.
Meanwhile, the three high-ranking Portals in Ishtara posed a constant risk. Spirit Beast attacks threatened the other cities in the region.
Even though the land was now under the Central Monarch’s protection, she couldn’t deploy her army freely to defend it.
Her troops could only be mobilized in emergencies, and only with the unanimous approval of the other two Monarchs.
Otherwise, it would be seen as an act of war.
So even after becoming subjects of a Monarch, the lives of the people of Kandara were far from easy.
The Central Monarch’s forces were stationed exclusively around the three Portals. Their only job was to ensure no Spirit Beast escaped into the city.
After all, these Knights and soldiers couldn’t abandon their posts. They were already very few in numbers, and bringing more reinforcements from outside was not an option.
This meant they had to be absolutely vigilant — failure wasn’t an option.
Not a single Spirit Beast could be allowed to slip through.
But that’s exactly what happened.
Over the past few weeks, reports of Beasts attacking civilians began to surface.
At first, it was whispered rumors of strange sightings, of shadows that didn’t belong, of claws scraping against stone where none should be.
Then the whispers grew louder, impossible to ignore — people started dying.
The guards stationed at the Portals denied any breaches. No Spirit Beast could have escaped their watch.
But the blood on the streets and the fear in the people’s eyes told a different story.
It wasn’t just panic. Something was wrong.
In response to the people’s pleas, the Central Monarch gave the task to the Academy, asking them to handle the situation.
And the Academy, in turn, sent us to investigate.
We weren’t the people’s first choice, of course.
That honor would’ve gone to seasoned Hunters or the Central Monarch’s elite Knights.
Hell, even second or third-years would’ve been better options.
But with the treaty’s restrictions and the need for discretion, sending first-year Cadets was the simplest solution.
We weren’t famous.
Well, most of us weren’t. I had been gaining some attention on social media, but let’s be honest — my fame could hardly rival the exalted status of pro Hunters or even senior Cadets at the Academy.
The general population wouldn’t recognize us, and even if they did, we weren’t strong enough to disrupt the balance of power enforced by the treaty.
We were, however, strong enough to deal with whatever abominations were terrorizing the lands.
Or at least, that was the hope.
“Listen carefully,” Selene snapped, and I was stunned to see she was still talking. “Your task is to investigate, and only investigate. The guards claim no Spirit Beasts have escaped their lines, but people are still dying. Something isn’t right, and your job is to find out what it is.”
She paused, her gaze scanning each of us. “There’s also intel suggesting a possible Beast nest near the outskirts of the capital. Start your search there. Neutralize the threat if you can. If not, report back. Do not play hero. Remember — a hero complex gets you killed.”
Alexia, sipping on her chocolate milk, raised an eyebrow. “Isn’t that a bit cynical? As future Hunters, shouldn’t we be at least a little heroic?”
Selene’s gaze cut on Alexia, icy enough to freeze the milk in her hand. “This isn’t a fairy tale, Lady Zynx. Heroics are for legends and corpses. If you want to be the former, avoid becoming the latter. Understood?”
Alexia shrugged a calmness that was borderline infuriating. “Noted. But if I do save the day, I expect at least one medal. Maybe two.”
A ripple of laughter spread through the group, but Selene didn’t so much as smirk. If anything, she looked more exasperated.
“Any other comments before I regret assigning this to you?” she asked.
I raised a hand, looking as earnest as I could. “Just one. Do we get hazard pay for uncovering something catastrophic? Hypothetically speaking, of course.”
Selene pinched the bridge of her nose, murmuring something under her breath that sounded like a prayer for patience. “If you uncover something even potentially catastrophic, you’ll be lucky to get out alive. Forget hazard pay. Focus on not dying.”
“Such inspiring words,” I muttered.
She ignored me and carried on. “To summarize — stay low. Reveal your identity only to proper authorities. Investigate the situation. Deal with the threat if you can. Retreat if you can’t. If the situation is too perilous, the Academy will send third-years. Understood? Stay. Low.”
The last part was directed at me, with more emphasis than seemed necessary. I tilted my head, genuinely confused.
In the end, she had to spell it out for me.
“What are you wearing?!” she asked, sounding almost frustrated, gesturing vaguely toward me.
I looked down. I was wearing an English cut black tailored suit with red ascent. “Uh, these are called clothes?”
Selene’s expression made it clear she was considering throwing something — possibly me — through a window. “You’ll draw way too much attention in that! Change into something normal.”
“But… this is my cheapest suit,” I replied, pointing casually to Michael. “What else do poor peasants wear? Like… that?”
Michael, wearing a threadbare tunic and plain pants, scowled. “Excuse me?”
“Sure, you’re excused,” I added cheerfully.
This time it was Michael who looked ready to throw me out. But before he could attempt my murder, Alexia shrugged.
“I think you look spectacular, Lord Samael,” she said.
“Thank you,” I began, only to stop mid-smile.
Damn it, she can’t see me. I always forget that.
“Just. Change,” Selene snapped, clearly at the end of her patience.
“Yes, ma’am!” I saluted, springing to my feet.
“And take these,” she said, handing a Card to Alexia, Lily, and me. “These are Transformation Cards. They’ll subtly alter your appearance.”
Michael frowned. “Why don’t Kang and I get one?”
“Because neither of you are gentry nor nobles. There’s no chance anyone will recognize you,” she replied flatly.
“…Wow,” Michael pouted, and Lily burst out laughing. Alexia chimed in with a joke, setting off another round of laughter.
Except Kang.
Kang was already asleep, slouched in his chair, blissfully snoring.
Watching them and listening to their inside jokes, I couldn’t help but feel a little out of place. They all had already grown so close.
It made sense, of course. I had taken the spot of someone who should’ve been here, someone who fit better in this group than I ever would.
Another main character like them.
But that was fine. It didn’t matter.
The things waiting for me in Ishtara would be worth it. Every bit of it.