"My name is Hund Hennessy," he said.
"I'm not originally from these lands. I was a refugee of war caused by the Tumedia Empire. My hometown, the Kingdom of Bright Field, was once an independent nation."
His face tightened. His eyes, red and heavy with tears, finally gave in. He tried to be strong, but the softness overtook him.
He continued,
"My home—the grasslands perfumed the air, the breeze as fresh as cherry blossoms. The high mountains regulated the sunlight. Edge Walkers were common in Bright Field. Unlike Ostina, bright field lies at neither the edge nor the side, we embraced the art of KI to maintain harmony. With KI, we coexisted with the non-godbloods. Though we never fully accepted them, we tolerated their presence and allowed them to thrive in their own communities."
"Dark times..."
He trembled, hand on his chest. Wrinkles etched deeper into his face as he continued,
"Exactly twenty years ago."
"Tumedia... those bastards. Led by Asmon. His soldiers were brutal—women raped, children captured and sold into slavery. And the worst of all... the extermination of every non-godblood in the land. After that, Bright Field was annexed and became part of the empire."
"But that doesn't answer the question about the Edge Walkers. How did they come to be? And why did the people of Bright Field embrace the way of KI?" I asked.
"The night has crept in."
The scent of burnt wood stirred something in him—screams, ash, and the memory of the night his village burned.
"But this story lived on," he said.
---
Years ago…
Fēng Yuán—known now as the first wielder of KI in Bright Field—was once simply Andrew Hunker.
His mother was gravely ill with a terminal disease. He searched endlessly for a cure: calling priests, bringing doctors, traveling from place to place. But each passing day brought her closer to death.
Helpless and broken by his failure, he tried to end his life.
Can anyone blame him?
His mother—his entire world—was fading, and he could do nothing but watch.
He ran to a cliff and jumped, expecting death.
But instead… something, or rather someone, saved him.
What shocked him wasn't being saved—it was how.
The man floated in the air, defying nature's laws.
He gently placed Andrew back on solid ground.
"Why would you do something like that?" the man asked.
"Don't you know life is precious?"
But Andrew's mind raced with other thoughts.
His clothes, his accent... they were foreign. He wasn't from this continent. But how? How did he cross the Edge?
"You're not from this continent," Andrew said.
"Tell me—how did you cross it? How did you walk the Edge?"
The man answered strangely:
"Life is but a breath dancing on the edge of the world—fragile, fleeting, and yet more precious than the stars that burn for a thousand ages.
Your act to take yours angered me. I must take my leave."
"It's my mother!" Andrew shouted.
"She's weak. She can't speak, can't walk, can't even touch anything. Her breathing gets worse every day. I couldn't take it anymore… That's why I tried to end it.
But you… you seem wise. I believe you can save her."
What the man did next was... disturbing.
He kicked Andrew off the cliff.
In terror, Andrew screamed and thrashed, trying to grab anything—a ledge, a branch—to stop his fall.
Then again, the man saved him, floating midair, defying gravity once more. He brought him back to safety.
"Why would you do that?! You almost killed me!" Andrew shouted.
"So you do value your life. I saw it—you searched for something to break your fall. You were scared. Your face was twisted in despair.
You tied the value of your life to your mother."
He continued,
"Once you believed your mother could be saved, you regained your will to live—even for just a day more. That hope became your anchor."
"I will help her. Not because I care for either of you, but because I listen to nature.
She weeps when humans die. Their blood stains her skin. Their organs are like blemishes on her body.
If I can prevent death, I will try to do so."
Andrew took the man to his bedridden mother.
The man frowned as he examined her—checked her pulse, heart, and temperature.
"This is a unique disease," he said.
"Her soul is depleting. Something inside her is draining her mana. There are only two ways to save her: either use S-class healing magic... or the Hincum."
Andrew was intrigued. Bright Field had no strong mage-knights, no advanced military—S-class magic was out of reach.
"Hincum? What's that?"
"It's a plant," the man replied.
"Its healing properties rival any S-class magic. But it only grows at the Edge of the Earth."
"Then I need to learn how you do it—how you fly—so I can walk the Edge," Andrew said confidently.