Rise of the Super War God

Chapter 1: The Crimsonheart Awakening

Kael Ardyn pressed his nose against the cold glass of the jewelry counter, eyes wide as the warm golden lamps above bounced off the sparkling treasures below. Diamonds, rubies, emeralds—they all seemed to shimmer with secrets, like they were whispering just to him. For a moment, he forgot the chaos of the city outside. He even forgot the emptiness in his pockets. He just stared. Heart pounding, a strange mix of awe and longing twisting inside him. As if the gems themselves were offering promises he had no right to dream of.

He was only sixteen. Barely. Too young for the weight on his shoulders, too old to let himself hope like a child. His uniform sleeves hung loosely over his slender frame; the collar of his jacket scratched at the sharp line of his collarbones. Years at Silvercrest Military Institute had drilled discipline into him, endurance, survival—but they hadn’t taught him how to matter. How to be seen.

And yet, whenever he saw Elara Myrin, invisibility felt like a curse he could no longer bear.

Elara. Brightest star of the Aether Combat Division. Top of her class. Daughter of two legendary war officers. She was beautiful in a way that made people forget to breathe. In the Mecha Combat field, she moved like lightning—controlled, precise, fierce. To Kael, she was everything he wasn’t: radiant, fearless, destined for glory.

For two years, he had watched her from the shadows. Every time she passed in the corridors, his thoughts froze. His pulse betrayed him. She didn’t know his name. He was just another student in the Arcane Mind Arts Department—the least respected division in the academy. While the warriors trained to repel the Voidspawn Swarm at the borders, Kael studied the unseen battles inside the mind: emotions, thoughts, fragile wounds no one else noticed—quiet, thankless work. Often mocked. But important. To someone. To him.

“Only a doctor who truly understands the mind can heal it,” his mentor had told him over and over. Kael lived by that, even when others laughed, even when he had no standing, no recognition.

Tonight, something stirred inside him. Maybe it was the movie he’d watched earlier—If You Want to Love, Then Love Now, Young Man—ridiculous title. But the story lingered. The boy in the film confessed with a ring, trembling hands extended, and the girl somehow said yes. Maybe… maybe he could do the same.

Kael glanced at his reflection in the jewelry case. A small, awkward smile flickered. “Yeah, right,” he muttered. “If only love could be bought.”

The smallest diamond ring he saw was seven thousand credits. His entire orphan stipend barely scraped a thousand. He wandered through four more shops, each visit snuffing out the fragile spark of courage he’d built. By the time he stepped back into the night, hope felt brittle, almost gone.

Then a tap on his shoulder startled him.

“Young man,” a hoarse voice said, rasping but oddly compelling. “Looking for jewelry?”

Kael turned. An old man, draped in a patched coat, stood under a flickering lamppost. Eyes gleaming—mischief, or maybe knowledge, Kael couldn’t understand.

“I’ve got special pieces,” the man said. “Cheaper than any store you’ve seen.”

“Special?” Kael narrowed his eyes. “You mean fake?”

“Not fake,” the man chuckled. “Lab-grown. Almost real. Only difference is the price.”

From the folds of his coat, he produced a small velvet pouch. A ruby glowed inside, deep as fresh blood, fire coiling in its heart. Set in a simple silver band, it seemed alive, as if it had its own heartbeat.

Kael tilted it in the lamplight. A tiny crack ran along one edge. “It’s damaged.”

“Without the flaw, twenty thousand. With it… Five hundred,” the man shrugged.

Kael hesitated—still a quarter of his savings. But when the light hit the gem just right, it pulsed, almost calling to him. Fate? Foolish hope?

“I’ll take it,” he whispered.

Coins exchanged hands. The old man smiled—a knowing, eerie smile—and vanished into the crowd before Kael could ask a single question.

Back at the academy, night had fallen. Moon hung pale overhead. Hands trembling, he arranged candles in front of the girls’ dormitory, flickering flames forming a glowing heart on wet stone. Whispers spread. Some students peeked from windows, laughing, cheering. Kael’s throat tightened. His heart felt ready to burst.

He clenched his fists.

This was it. No more hiding.

“Elara Myrin!” he shouted, voice cracking, raw with determination. “Please! Give me a chance! Be my girlfriend!”

The night paused. Candles flickered like holding their breath.

Dorm doors creaked.

Elara stepped out. Her golden hair caught the candlelight, gleaming like liquid sunlight. The sleek combat suit of the Aether Division clung to her like armor, confident and poised. Her gaze swept the crowd calmly, curiosity in her eyes, untouched by the noise. When her eyes met Kael’s, his breath caught.

Words he had rehearsed countless times deserted him. “I, I’m Kael Ardyn,” he stammered. “Second-year Arcane Mind Arts… I’ve admired you for a long time. This…” He opened the small box. The ruby glowed faintly, veins of crimson fire threading through it. “This is for you.”

A hush fell over the students.

Someone whispered, “A Crimsonheart Gem? That’s worth a fortune!”

Kael ignored them. All he saw was Elara. All he waited for was her answer.

Her face remained calm. Her voice, soft but distant, cut deeper than any blade.

“I’m sorry, Kael,” she said. “My future partner must fight for humanity. Someone who stands on the battlefield, not behind a desk. We’re at war. I want a War God, not a healer.”

She nodded politely. Detached. “Your gift is beautiful. Keep it.”

And just like that, she turned. Golden hair swaying, gone in an instant.

The crowd went silent. Then laughter. Quiet, cruel, pitying. Kael froze. Candles burned down, wax dripping like tears. The box felt impossibly heavy.

A trembling smile crossed his lips. “Guess I aimed too high.”

Ten steps later, gone.

He ran. Academy lights became distant sparks. Lungs burning. Didn’t stop until the liquor shop near the gates.

“The strongest you’ve got,” he muttered.

Minutes later, bottle in hand, he stumbled down the forest path behind the training grounds. Broken fences. Twisted trees. Damp earth after rain. He drank, fire down his throat, dulling the ache, the shame, the hopelessness.

His reflection stared back from the cracked bottle. Bloodshot eyes. Messy hair. A boy pretending to be brave.

“Why wasn’t I stronger?” he whispered. “Why couldn’t I fight like the rest?”

Two years ago, he had failed the Aether Combat entrance test by three points. The body didn’t meet the threshold. They dumped him in Mind Arts. Lowest rank. Scholar’s refuge. Weakling’s cage.

“Why wasn’t I born to fight?”

A crunch of gravel made him stiffen.

“Well, well,” a sneering voice cut through the darkness. “Look who we have here.”

Four boys in Aether uniforms, faces twisted with amusement, emerged.

“You’ve caused quite a scene, Ardyn,” the tallest mocked. “Chasing Elara. Giving gifts like some stray mutt begging for scraps.”

Kael’s jaw tightened. “Leave me alone.”

The leader laughed. “An orphan from Mind Arts, thinking he can touch a goddess? You should’ve stayed in your lab, doctor boy.”

The first kick hit fast. Hard. Glass shattered. Pain bloomed in his ribs. Another strike to his face. Iron taste filled his mouth.

“Stop… please,” he gasped.

They didn’t.

A boot to his chest. He crumpled. The ruby rolled from his pocket, the crack catching moonlight like a bleeding wound.

One of the boys snorted. “I even bought her a ring. Pathetic.”

Kael’s fingers brushed the gem. Pulse faint, rhythmic, alive.

Then a whisper. Soft. Female. Right beside his ear.

Do you want to become a War God?

Kael froze. Eyes darted. No one. Just the wind and the bullies’ laughter.

“I’m drunk,” he muttered.

Do you want to become a War God?

If so, wear the gem.

Sharper now. Colder. Slashing through his skull. Bullies are closing in. Shadows stretching. Mind screaming. Trembling, he slipped the ring onto his finger.

For a moment… nothing.

Then the world shattered. Silver energy surged up his arm, scorching his skin. Pain roared through every nerve. He screamed. The attackers stumbled back, wide-eyed.

Mechanical voice, cold, detached:

“Host confirmed. Neural synchronization complete. War God System initializing.”

His body moved without consent. Mind floating above, watching as white energy shot from his hands.

“Threat level detected: Forty. Combat mode engaged.”

Left arm lashed out. Bone cracked. Blood sprayed. Two attackers fell before realizing what hit them. The other two bolted, tripping over roots, vanishing into darkness.

Light dimmed.

Kael collapsed to his knees, gasping. The ring glowed faintly. Crack vanished.

Two bodies lay in the dirt.

“What did I just do?”

Voice returned. Colder. Machinelike.

“Integration is one percent complete. Congratulations, Host. The War God System has been activated.”

Visions exploded: battles on burning skies, titanic mechas clashing in space, armies kneeling before a crimson throne.

Then darkness swallowed him.

Last image before black: the ruby ring. Alive. Pulsing like a beating heart. Once a symbol of love. Now, the first step to war.

Kael had bought a ring to win her heart. Now the same ring had chosen him for something far greater. Far deadlier.