Year – 987, Hundred Sky Mountains

The gentle breeze, forever whistling through the mysterious Hundred Sky Mountains that defied gravity and remained suspended in the sky, had suddenly gone still.

The soothing chirps of the Skypian birds, and even the dancing of clouds around the sky mountains, were halted—it was as if the world itself was holding its breath.

On that day, there was only one sound that echoed through the mountains. In contrast to the peaceful and calming atmosphere, this sound was raw, broken, and ragged—the scream of a woman going through the most painful yet blessed ordeal of her life.

The voice came from a royal chamber on the mightiest mountain of all the sky mountains, one that dared to reach the heavens.

The mountain, also called Heaven's Last Step due to its might and beauty, was adorned with beautiful wooden houses on both sides of the stairs that ascended to the entrance where royalty resided. Unlike the usual bustling around the mountains, everyone was gathered on the stairs outside the royal gates, which they dared not pass.

The agonized screams of the woman continued for several minutes, and everything remained still throughout.

After one final screech, the voice suddenly stopped, and in its place came the soft yet sharp cry of a newborn.

The moment the newborn's cry rang out, the clouds encircling the mountains stirred into an ecstatic dance, swirling as though the heavens themselves had awakened. Branches that had withered under the encroaching cold blossomed anew, bursting with fresh, fragrant flowers. The wind found its voice again, whistling joyfully as it carried the newly bloomed petals through the air, guiding them toward the chamber from which the newborn's cries continued to echo.

In the large open hall, surrounded by royal chambers on all sides, stood various imposing figures adorned in long silk robes that only served to boast their sharp and marvelous features.

Among the group, the ones that stood out the most were three men.

The first was a tall, handsome man. His eyes, along with his long silky hair, shimmered with a deep oceanic blue. His white robe carried intricate patterns, and his face bore a sharp scar—the testament to the countless battles he had faced.

At his side stood another strikingly handsome man. His long silver hair rested down his back, and his eyes of similar silver made him look like a deity walking upon the earth. His skin was pale, and a cold aura surrounded his body, as if a mere touch could freeze a person. He was often called the most handsome man of Vyoman.

However, there was another tall, handsome man whose features rivaled even the silver-haired man. Walking back and forth nervously in front of the royal chamber, his sky-blue hair, tied in a half-up topknot, swayed with each step. The half-opened striking blue jewels of his eyes carried a heavy burden within them. His handsome body, adorned in a long white silky robe, bore patterns of numerous small clouds. Parallel to his face, long strands of his sky-blue hair covered his temples on both sides. His forehead was adorned with a beautiful golden circlet that set him apart from the rest of the men standing there.

The door of the royal chamber slid open, and a middle-aged woman wearing a long, plain robe emerged. Her face carried expressions of both relief and nervousness.

"Congratulations, Your Majesty. You are blessed with a prince," the woman declared, her head slightly bowed toward the man wearing the golden circlet.

The moment she spoke those words, the people gathered in the hall erupted in joy and relief. A shower of congratulations filled the hall in an instant.

"Congratulations, Your Majesty!"

"Congratulations, Your Majesty!"

The only three people who remained unfazed by the chaos were the silver-haired man, the scarred man, and the king himself.

"How is Aestra?" the king asked, nervousness etched all over his features.

"The queen is healthy, Your Majesty," the nurse replied. However, her face was still laced with unease.

Only then did the king let out a sigh of relief. His breath came in low gasps, as if he had just endured a long, restless battle.

From behind him, his shoulders were gently patted by both the silver-haired man and the scarred man.

"Congratulations, brother," said the scarred man, while the silver-haired man merely nodded with a smile.

The handsome man turned to the nurse, his expression calm yet commanding as he said, "You look worried. Is there a problem?"

Both the king and his brother, who had been immersed in relief and happiness, now noticed the nurse's expression and shifted their focus toward her.

"L-Lord Aurelion, I don't know how to explain the situation," the old nurse stammered, her lips trembling.

Aurelion—the silver-haired man—frowned, his eyes sharpening.

"Say it clearly!" he demanded, his voice still low but commanding.

"T-the prince—"

"What happened to my son?" the king asked, stepping forward. "Is he not healthy?"

"N-no, that's not it, Your Majesty," the nurse blurted out. "Please come inside and see for yourself."

The king hurried forward, opened the door to the royal chamber, and went inside, closing it behind him.

An eerie calm settled over the crowds gathered in the hall as they noticed the worry etched upon their king's face.

After a few seconds that felt like eternity, the king's voice—laced with nervousness—rang out from inside.

"Elder brother, Aurelion, come inside!"

Both the scarred man and Aurelion entered immediately without a second thought.

Inside the royal chamber, behind the drawn curtains, lay a woman of otherworldly beauty, sleeping peacefully upon the bed. Though her body was slick with sweat and her raven-black hair lay disheveled across the silken sheets, not the slightest trace of her grace was diminished.

"What happened, brother?" the scarred man asked the moment they entered.

"M-my son…" the king murmured, his voice stammering for the first time in his long life.

After a brief pause to regain his composure, the king pointed toward the ceiling and spoke again.

"My son is born with divinity."

Following the direction of the king's finger, the two looked up toward the ceiling.

A bone-deep chill surged down their spines as their eyes fell upon the newborn floating in the air.

The infant's body glowed with ethereal gold. His blond hair shimmered with an otherworldly presence, while the petals that had earlier entered the chamber spiraled around him in reverence.

The spectacle continued for a few minutes before the golden light around the infant finally diminished. The infant's body slowly descended, but before it could touch the ground, the king vanished from his position, reappearing just behind the infant and gently holding him in his arms.

"Br-bring me my son," the ethereal beauty lying on the bed demanded, her voice weak yet still carrying elegance.

The king entered behind the curtains and knelt beside the bed, placing the infant next to his mother.

"Thank you, Aestra," the king murmured, kissing his wife's hand.

As the couple looked at their newborn, the infant let out a light giggle, his golden eyes shifting back and forth between his father and mother. The child bore the same slit mark at the center of his forehead as his mother and father.

After spending a brief moment with his wife, the king emerged from the chamber, carrying his son wrapped in a silk robe adorned with golden embroidery.

Slowly, his feet lifted from the ground, defying gravity as he ascended skyward, rising so high that every soul—inside the palace and beyond the royal gates—could behold him.

Every individual present, including Aurelion and his brother, instantly bent their knees and lowered their heads, bowing in respect as they realized their king was about to make an announcement.

"Hear me," the king proclaimed.

"I am Voltrex El Thunderbane, King of the Seven Banes and ruler of the Hundred Sky Mountains."

A pause followed, heavy with anticipation.

"On this sacred day, the heavens themselves have borne witness. A prince has been born, my son—born not as an ordinary child, but as one touched by divinity, blessed by the will of the heavens."

A ripple of awe surged through all who listened.

"Let it be known to all realms, all clans, and all bloodlines," the king continued, his voice rising with pride, "that from this moment forth, my son shall be known as Taranis El Thunderbane, Prince of the Thunderbane lineage and heir to the Hundred Sky Mountains."

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