It is said that there once was a kingdom ruled by a young king, newly crowned, whose throne remained without a queen to share his reign. Upon his ascension, the nobles of the realm gathered to arrange his marriage, hosting a grand and lavish ball where the young king would choose his future bride from among the maidens of the kingdom.
During the festivities, a girl of breathtaking beauty arrived late, shining like a star against the night sky, drawing the gaze of everyone present.
The young king turned toward the source of the commotion, and the moment their eyes met, his heart beat for the very first time.
[Love at first sight]
He asked for her name, and she answered with a shy smile, "Janet."
They shared the first dance of the night, and the ball ended leaving an unforgettable mark upon both their hearts.
As days passed, fate seemed to weave their paths together 'by chance' in different places, and love began to blossom between them like a tender flower growing amidst open fields.
Yet love rarely travels a road paved with roses.
The king had a sworn enemy: the Grand Sorcerer, Yiren, renowned for his overwhelming power and his obstinate nature.
Yiren was not merely a sorcerer — he was the most powerful mage humanity had ever known.
He had once been a fellow student with King Henry at the Academy, but from the very first day, he harbored a deep hatred for him.
Though the teachers recognized Yiren's extraordinary talent and tried to guide him toward becoming a Grand Mage who would save lives, his answer was sharp and mocking:
"Save people...?," he laughed scornfully, "You don't get to decide what I become. I won't save them... I'll kill them, you fools!"
When Yiren heard that the young king was about to marry, and that he had fallen in love with Janet at first sight, he burst into laughter, deciding that he would ruin the love he found so revolting.
He attempted to kidnap Janet.
Yet, to his utter shock, Janet was far stronger than he had anticipated.
She imprisoned him within a dark tower, sentencing him to eternal confinement.
Janet had hidden her magical prowess from everyone, fearing that someone might seek to exploit her power.
Eventually, she married Henry.
But for Yiren, it was a personal defeat — a humiliation carved into his very soul.
Thus, evil was defeated, and good triumphed.
The first thing you might say after reading this is "What a cliché story!"
And honestly, I agree.
But... who said this was our story?
Amidst the raging fires devouring the royal palace like a hungry beast, the flames merged with the screams of those desperately fighting for their lives. Away from the chaos, before the gates of a towering tower, a small infant no more than six months old was crying.
Inside, where no sound stirred among the crumbling stones, the chains binding a majestic man shattered.
He possessed long silver hair that cascaded like a waterfall, catching a faint glimmer of light within the tower's darkness.
The chains crumbled slowly into dust, swept away by the cold winds sneaking through broken windows.
At that moment, a voice emerged, hoarse and heavy with shock, as though it hadn't been used in years.
"Th-this means...!"
He paused, as if the words themselves were trapped in his throat, then continued with a voice deeper and heavier with astonishment "Janet... is dead?"
A heavy silence followed, as if the very world around him froze in time for a breath, before that silence shattered under the eruption of hysterical laughter that filled the tower.
The man tried to stifle his laughter with his hand, but failed miserably, letting his mirth flow like an unstoppable river.
His head bowed slightly as he wiped away a small tear lingering in his eye, whispering sarcastically "Haah... I haven't laughed like this in three years."
Dusting off his clothes, he ran his hand through his long hair, his expression a mixture of disgust and admiration "Dear heavens, seems I'll have to cut it... or perhaps not? After all, my long hair makes me look incredibly alluring. Although, to be fair, I'm handsome either way."
With a snap of his fingers, a floating mirror appeared before him.
He whistled appreciatively, tracing his features with his hand, and said, delighted by his reflection "I haven't seen this handsome devil in three years..."
He laughed once more, then turned toward the iron bars that once imprisoned him.
With a single casual kick, they flew off as if made of paper, blasting a hole in the wall effortlessly.
He faced the tower, his eyes gleaming with arrogance and vengeance.
Another snap of his fingers—and the entire tower exploded into fragments, scattering stone in every direction.
He rose into the air, arms outstretched triumphantly toward the sky, his laughter echoing across the land.
He shouted loudly, as though addressing the heavens themselves "Fresh air! This cursed tower was a prison in every sense. Barely any air, barely any space, barely anything at all! Ordinary men would've died here from lack of oxygen!"
He landed softly on the ground, despite the massive crater formed by his descent. With a light leap, he exited the pit, scanning the surrounding forest with curious eyes.
His silver hair glistened beneath the sunlight streaming through the branches, making him look like a legend walking out from the pages of a forgotten tale.
"Well then..." he said as he glanced around, his eyes suddenly halting at a small child inside a wicker basket beside the ruined tower.
The baby was crying, and when their eyes met, the child lifted his tiny arms toward him, as if asking to be held.
Yiren, who had always hated children, gave the baby a strange look—a mix of disgust and curiosity.
"Hey... what are you doing here, little one? Abandoned by your parents?"
His usual curiosity stirred. He noticed a piece of paper beside the child, picked it up, and unfolded it.
What he read made his face freeze for a moment, before his expression twisted into one of pure rage.
[Yiren, by the time you read this, we will already be dead. We know you are the only one capable of caring for our son. We trust you, our sworn enemy.]
[Henry and Janet]
Yiren crushed the paper in his hand, veins pulsing with fury.
"You entrust me... to care for your brat? After what you did to me? After three years in that cursed tower because of you?"
He gritted his teeth so hard that the sound echoed in the silence around him.
He turned his back on the child, his coat flaring with the movement. "Forget it! Find someone else to raise you!" He began to walk away, not once looking back.
But the baby's cries grew louder, sharper, and somehow... sadder. Yiren's steps slowed despite himself.
He cursed under his breath, feeling an unfamiliar tug deep inside him—a weakness he thought he had long buried.
"Damn it..." he muttered, clenching his fists.
Without turning around, he shouted:
"Stop crying! You're annoying as hell!"
The cries did not cease.
Yiren stood there, torn between pride and a gnawing sense of guilt.
Seconds dragged into minutes, and finally, with a long, tortured sigh, he spun around and stormed back to the basket.
Grabbing the baby roughly—but careful enough not to hurt him—he held the child at arm's length, studying him as if inspecting a dangerous creature.
"Hmph. You're ugly."
The baby responded by gurgling and reaching for Yiren's hair.
"Don't even think about it!" He pulled his head back quickly, avoiding the tiny, grasping fingers.
He stared at the little creature for a long moment before grumbling:
"Fine. But only because I don't want to hear your damn crying anymore."
He tucked the baby under one arm like a sack of potatoes, turned on his heel, and began walking toward the forest.
The world was vast and dangerous.
Yiren, the strongest magician, once feared by empires, was now carrying a child who, by all logic, should have been his enemy's heir.
Yet here he was, stepping into the unknown with an infant in tow, muttering curses at the heavens every step of the way.
"If you turn out to be anything like your parents..." he whispered dangerously,
"I'll throw you into a volcano. Just you wait."
The baby only giggled in response.
And somewhere deep within Yiren's cold, battered heart, something small and fragile began to stir.
As Yiren continued his path through the dense forest, holding the child, the silence around them seemed to deepen. His thoughts raced with the words he'd just read in the letter. He couldn't shake the burning anger inside him, yet, there was something else—something he couldn't quite place. He had to admit, he was a bit... perplexed.
He glanced down at the child in his arms, who had long since stopped crying. The innocence in the child's eyes made Yiren's heart twitch, but he quickly dismissed the feeling. He was Yiren, the most powerful sorcerer to ever walk the earth. He didn't have time for emotions, especially not for a child.
After a long while of walking in the forest, Yiren finally found a clearing. In the distance, the thick black smoke from the burning castle could still be seen, rising high into the sky. The scent of fire lingered in the air, but Yiren didn't care. He had no intention of dealing with any more fires today.
He looked down at the child again, feeling that strange pull inside him. "What the hell do I do with you now?" he muttered. "Am I supposed to raise you? Change your diapers? Feed you? This is ridiculous."
The child, seemingly oblivious to Yiren's inner turmoil, gazed up at him with wide, trusting eyes. Yiren, for all his power and arrogance, could not bring himself to leave the child behind in the forest.
With a deep sigh, he cradled the child in his arms once more and, with a snap of his fingers, they vanished into thin air.
They appeared in front of a small, rundown house that looked as though it had seen better days. The place was cluttered with strange contraptions and odd objects. It appeared to be some sort of workshop, with machines half-finished and tools scattered everywhere.
A man in his thirties, engrossed in his work, didn't notice their arrival until Yiren kicked him across the room with a swift motion.
The man yelped in pain, but his expression quickly shifted to astonishment as he saw who had entered. "You...?" he gasped. "I thought you were dead, man! What are you doing back?"
Yiren smirked, his voice calm but laced with an undercurrent of threat. "Hello again, my dear friend. I have a little problem... and you're the one who is going to solve it."