The bustling market in the heart was a chaotic symphony of sights, sounds, and scents. People moved like streams of ants, weaving through narrow pathways lined with stalls and shouting merchants. The air was thick with the mingled aromas of roasted meats, exotic spices, and the underlying stench of refuse. It was a place of both wonder and hardship.

Merchants hollered to catch the attention of passersby, holding up their goods. “Fresh fruits! Straight from the Southern Plains! Don’t miss out!” one vendor called, waving a basket of vibrant, juicy berries.

Another merchant argued loudly with a customer. “I won’t go any lower than three gold coins! This fabric is woven from Moonmoth silk—unmatched in quality!” he insisted, his voice heated.

Nearby, a woman haggled with a fishmonger. “Come on, I have four mouths to feed at home. Can’t you lower the price just a little?” she pleaded, her face a mix of desperation and hope.

On the fringes of the market, a child tugged at a passerby’s cloak, his eyes hollow. “Please, sir… just a piece of bread,” he whispered, almost too weak to speak.

It was a cruel world, divided sharply between those born with privilege and power and those struggling just to survive. If you weren’t of royal blood or blessed with a skill from a constellation, you were nothing more than a cog in the unforgiving machine that was life in Nelion. This harsh reality defined the existence of the Genosions.

Droconia, a mighty kingdom located on the northern continent, was heralded as the most prosperous realm in Nelion. Nestled amidst towering mountain ranges and vast highlands, the landscape was as formidable as its inhabitants. Droconia was known for its fertile lands, perfect for agriculture, and its citizens were revered for their strength and resilience.

The people of Droconia were unique—tall and robust, their skin adorned with patches of shimmering dragon scales, a testament to their lineage. These scales, in hues ranging from deep emerald to molten gold, marked them as Droconians, and the nobility bore even more striking features.

At the pinnacle of society were the royal family, each member possessing magnificent dragon wings and gracefully curved horns, symbols of their divine heritage. These rulers were not only custodians of their kingdom but also bonded to their own dragons—beasts of immense power and majesty that served as both protectors and companions.

In Droconia, the hierarchy was clear: power was everything, and power lay with the royal family and their elite hunters. The kingdom boasted the finest hunters in Nelion, warriors capable of battling any creature that threatened their domain. Their hunters were particularly renowned, revered across the continent for their prowess in dungeons and battle.

They also had some of the greatest artisans, and warriors—individuals drawn from various species, each bringing their own unique abilities and perspectives.

For ordinary citizens, the hope of ascending beyond a meager existence lay only in earning the favor of the nobility or demonstrating skill and bravery worthy of a hunter’s rank.

What truly set Droconia apart, however, was its diversity. It was the only kingdom in Nelion that welcomed other species to live within its borders, providing them the opportunity to thrive alongside the Droconians.

And yet, even in the grandeur of Droconia, the marketplace revealed a harsh truth—the divide between the privileged and the powerless was a chasm few could cross.

*********************************************

One month later

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Nyx, now seven years old, continued to grow more confident each day. Despite having many powerful skills, she wanted to rely on them less, learning to handle tasks with her own strength and wit. Even something as simple as starting a fire—usually a breeze with Drac’s help—was a challenge she wanted to conquer on her own. Drac always reminded her that for a dragon, fire wasn’t a skill but a natural ability, but Nyx would just stubbornly insist it was something she had to master too.

Her adventurous spirit extended to her approach to dungeons. Instead of teleporting straight to them, she would walk, enjoying the journey through the forest, relishing the sights and sounds that surrounded her.

Today was no different.

With Airy, Ori, and Rion secured in their usual spots, Nyx was preparing to head out to a dungeon on the outskirts of Griff’s territory. Len and the other Aetherlings were absent today, attending to other matters. But Nyx didn’t mind—she was used to traveling alone when needed. Before leaving, she visited Griff.

“This dungeon… it should be an ant dungeon, but I’m not too sure,” Griff said, scratching his beak with a talon, clearly uninterested. “I’ve never bothered to check, not until you came along.”

Nyx smiled up at him. “That’s okay! I’ll just figure it out when I get there.”

Griff let out a soft huff. “Just be careful, Nyx. You’re getting stronger, but remember to know your limits.”

“I will, Griff. Promise!” she shouted as she left his cave, her voice echoing.

Following the directions Griff had given her, Nyx set out on foot, enjoying the walk through the vibrant forest. Small creatures scurried along her path, some pausing to gaze curiously at her before disappearing back into the foliage. It was a peaceful, almost magical journey that lifted her spirits.

The walk wasn’t too long, and soon enough, she stood in front of a white dungeon. Relief washed over her—it meant the dungeon would be relatively easy to clear. Taking a deep breath, she ventured inside.

The familiar sight of shimmering crystals and moss-covered rocks greeted her as she moved carefully down the path, daggers in hand and senses alert. She hadn’t gone far when she encountered a cluster of four blue slimes. Calmly, she set Airy down and located their cores.

It was over in moments.

Nyx’s skill level far surpassed the slimes’, and they didn’t stand a chance. The dungeon was filled with many more slimes than usual, but she didn’t let that bother her. She pressed on, taking out each one with precision and confidence.

Hours passed, and as the afternoon sun dipped lower in the sky, Nyx decided to take a break. Sitting on a smooth rock, she sipped milk and munched on some fruit, savoring the moment of peace.

After finishing her meal, she resumed her journey through the dungeon. Finally, she reached the boss room—a massive door with intricate carvings. She grumbled under her breath as she struggled to push it open. The door was heavy, and it took all her strength to get it to budge.

Once inside, she set Airy down again and faced the boss slime. The fight was intense but manageable, and Nyx kept her focus steady, using her skills and newfound strength to gain the upper hand.

With a final strike, she snatched the core, and the boss dissolved into a puddle of glimmering slime. A treasure chest appeared in its place, glowing softly. Nyx opened it, taking a moment to admire the items inside before tucking them safely into Airy.

On her way out of the dungeon, she decided to teleport back to Griff’s territory to tell him about her success.

“Did you get hurt?” Griff asked, his voice lined with concern.

“I’m fine!” Nyx reassured him with a bright smile. “It wasn’t too hard.”

“Good,” he nodded slowly. “Just… take care of yourself, alright?”

Nyx grinned. “Always.”

She waved goodbye and left, deciding to walk the rest of the way back. As she strolled through the forest, enjoying the serene beauty around her, she spotted a bush laden with her favorite berries—Glowsap Berries, tiny, translucent spheres that glowed faintly in the dark. She picked a few, placing them in her pockets and savoring each one as she continued on her way.

She was nearly out of Griff’s territory when she heard it—a faint, weak voice calling for help.

Nyx froze, straining her ears. The voice came again, and she looked around, her heart racing. What if it was a trap? What if she got hurt?

But she had her skills to protect herself, and she could always teleport away if things got bad. Steeling herself, Nyx made her decision.

She sprinted toward the voice, heart pounding. The cries grew louder, filled with fear and desperation. And then she saw it—leaning against a massive boulder covered in moss and mushrooms was a creature unlike any she’d seen before.

It was a fox—a massive, ethereal fox with nine long, silky tails that shimmered like freshly fallen snow under the moonlight. Its eyes were a deep, luminous gold, radiating wisdom and… hunger. The air around it swirled with a faint mist, giving it an otherworldly, almost celestial presence.

The Nine-Tailed Fox God of Gluttony.

Nyx’s breath caught in her throat. She’d heard about him, but seeing him in person was something else entirely. He looked regal and majestic, yet frail and exhausted, his once pristine white fur now dull and matted.

The fox god’s gaze turned to Nyx, and he spoke softly, his voice carrying both elegance and sorrow. “Would you… share some of your food?”