It manifested at birth, embedded in the center of the chest—fused to the body like a second heart. A person's strength, status, and destiny were determined by the level of their soul. The higher one's Soul Level, the greater their command over magic and martial power.

To level up, people ventured into forests and hunted wild creatures—Magical Beasts, monsters, goblins, Dire Wolves, venomous spiders, even fire-breathing bears. Each kill granted points depending on the creature's level And then… there was Kyle.

Morning sunlight stretched across golden wheat fields like a warm blessing. A cool breeze brushed through the crops, making them whisper softly. Villagers were already busy—drawing water from wells, feeding cattle, tending to their daily chores.

Amidst this peaceful scenery stood a thin, dust-covered boy in torn clothes, pulling weeds from the soil.

His name was Kyle.

Kyle was known by only one name in the village—

"Soulless."

Because unlike everyone else, Kyle had no Soul Gem.

Where glowing crystals shimmered proudly on others' chests, marking their fate and potential, his chest was empty—like a blank canvas. And because of that, he was isolated. Feared. Treated like a bad omen.

People believed the gods had made a mistake when creating him.

What neither they nor Kyle knew…

Was that his greatest weakness would one day become his greatest strength.

There was only one person in the entire village who treated Kyle like a human being.

Baelin.

An 800-year-old dwarf sage, one of the wisest beings in Aethelgard. Some called him mad. But Baelin knew something others didn't.

He knew why Kyle had no Soul Gem.

Kyle spent most of his time with him.

Even now, as Kyle worked in the fields, his mind wandered.

Will I ever fight? Will I ever use magic… earn respect?

A sharp, mocking laugh shattered his thoughts.

"Look at that—Soulless doing farm labor," someone sneered.

Kyle didn't need to turn around.

He knew that voice.

Orion.

The strongest boy in the village. A Pyromancer. His Soul Gem glowed like burning embers beneath his skin. Dressed in red and black, he stood confidently with two friends behind him.

"Hey, Kyle," Orion smirked. "Heard you killed a Level 25 Magical Beast alone. Even the three of us couldn't defeat one."

The three burst into laughter.

"Oh wait—I forgot. You can't even kill an ant. The beast you 'killed' must've been in your dreams."

More laughter.

Kyle stayed silent.

Orion stepped closer and crushed the stick in Kyle's hand under his boot.

"Are you even listening? Or is there truly no soul left inside you?"

Kyle's heart pounded. He knew answering would only make things worse. The village sided with Orion. After all, he was Level 15—the strongest among them.

Strength earned respect.

Kyle earned humiliation.

Orion kicked over a basket of seeds. Then, with a flick of his fingers, he ignited a spark and tossed it onto the dry grass near Kyle.

Flames spread instantly.

Kyle panicked and rushed to put it out. His hands burned. Ash and dirt covered his skin.

"Remember," Orion said coldly, "Soulless people are born to serve."

Then he left.

Kyle remained kneeling in the ashes, eyes stinging—half from smoke, half from pain inside his chest.

Why am I so weak? Will I ever change?

A voice within him whispered—

The day you stop accepting defeat.

And somewhere deep within, something stirred.

By sunset, the sky burned red and orange. Smoke from cooking fires filled the air with the scent of food.

Kyle's hut stood at the edge of the village—broken roof, mud walls, a bamboo bed, stale bread, and an old bag.

He sat by the window, staring at the rising moon.

If only I could raise my Soul Level… If only I could fight.

He clenched his fist.

Hope flickered within his anger.

Then—

A scream pierced the air.

"Help! Someone help!"

Kyle rushed outside.

A little girl had fallen into the village well while playing.

People gathered—but no one acted effectively.

Orion stood nearby and scoffed. "Not my problem. I don't waste my power on trivial matters."

Kyle didn't hesitate.

He jumped into the well and, with immense struggle, grabbed the girl's hand and pulled her out.

The child clung to him, crying.

The villagers fell silent.

No one thanked him.

Instead, someone muttered, "Move away… don't let that bad omen touch her."

Orion smirked. "Look at that. Soulless trying to be a hero."

He walked away.

Yet Kyle smiled faintly.

Maybe… change begins like this.

That night, lying under the open roof, staring at the stars, something burned inside him.

A vow.

One day… I'll prove that no one is born weak.

From the nearby forest, a strange wind blew.

With it came a faint whisper—

"Kyle… your time is coming…"

He jolted upright.

Darkness.

Silence.

He didn't sleep that night.

Cliffhanger

The next morning, Kyle went to meet Baelin.

The old dwarf looked at him and said calmly—

"I've 

been waiting for you. I have a task for you… and I know only you can complete it."