The World of Nethania
Before the birth of kings.
Before dragons ruled the skies.
Before the first spark of mana illuminated the darkness.
There was only the Void.
An endless expanse of nothingness where neither time nor space existed.
No stars.
No heavens.
No hells.
Only silence.
Then, from the depths of that eternal emptiness, fourteen beings awakened.
No one knows where they came from.
Not even the gods themselves.
Some claim they were born from the Void.
Others believe they existed long before creation.
Whatever the truth may be, their arrival marked the beginning of all things.
Together, they forged a world.
A colossal world known as Nethania.
A world so vast that oceans stretched beyond horizons, mountains pierced the clouds, and continents spanned distances mortals could scarcely imagine.
A world where mana flowed through the earth like blood through living veins.
A world where miracles and calamities walked hand in hand.
To govern their creation, the fourteen divided existence into Five Great Realms.
At the very peak of reality stood the Heavania Realm.
A sacred domain beyond mortal comprehension.
The seat of the Anarica Divinity.
Beneath it rested the Heaven Realm, where celestial races, divine beasts, and immortal servants flourished beneath endless starlight.
At the center of existence lay the Mortal Realm.
The realm of kingdoms and empires.
Of heroes and tyrants.
Of monsters, spirits, dragons, and mankind.
A realm where countless lives struggled against fate.
Below the Mortal Realm stretched the Hell Realm.
A harsh and unforgiving land inhabited by demons, devils, cursed races, and those abandoned by the world above.
And beneath all existence rested the Hellaru Realm.
The domain of the Zanabu Divinity.
The deepest realm.
The darkest realm.
The realm where even gods tread carefully.
The fourteen creators were divided equally between two divine factions.
Seven belonged to the Anarica.
Seven belonged to the Zanabu.
Yet this division was never one of good and evil.
The Anarica were not saviors.
The Zanabu were not villains.
Such concepts belonged to mortals.
The gods existed beyond such simple distinctions.
Some desired order.
Some pursued freedom.
Some sought wisdom.
Others craved ambition.
Some nurtured life.
Others welcomed destruction.
Each walked their own path.
Each carried their own truth.
Together, they governed the Laws of Nethania.
Together, they maintained the balance of existence.
And for ten thousand years, the world prospered beneath their silent gaze.
Kingdoms rose.
Empires fell.
Heroes became legends.
Legends faded into myths.
Through it all, the gods remained distant observers.
Or so the world believed.
For even gods possess curiosity.
Even gods harbor secrets.
And when immortal beings interfere with mortal destiny...
Entire realms can burn.
Then came the Prophecy.
A prophecy so ancient that its origin could not be traced.
A prophecy hidden from divine sight.
A prophecy capable of shaking the foundations of creation itself.
It spoke of a single mortal.
A being who would one day shatter the chains of fate.
A being who would ascend beyond kings.
Beyond saints.
Beyond gods.
A being destined to stand at the pinnacle of existence.
Above the Fourteen.
Above Divinity itself.
When the prophecy surfaced, the gears of fate began to turn.
The gods watched.
The realms stirred.
Ancient powers awakened.
And somewhere within the vast world of Nethania...
A child was about to be born.
A child whose existence would change everything.