The rumors rippled through the kingdom like a stone cast into a still pond. In the taverns of the capital and the high halls of the palace, one name—or rather, one title—was on everyone's lips: The White One.
The story of a Great Bison being felled by a single, casual strike was dismissed by many as the drunken hallucinations of an exhausted A-rank party. "Impossible," the skeptics scoffed. "Even a Legendary Rank would need a Soul Palace to slaughter a Bison so thoroughly." Yet, among the scholars and seasoned mages, a theory began to take root.
They whispered of a mysterious wanderer whose innate skill was a Superhuman Physiology so absolute it defied the laws of mana—a being who moved at the speed of light and struck with the weight of a falling star.
Meanwhile, far from the prying eyes of the guild, the legend himself sat perched upon a high branch of an ancient oak, staring out at the emerald sea of the forest.
"Yudris," he muttered, his voice barely a breath. "How was that?"
As if stepping out of the air itself, a figure appeared beside him. She wore a long, luminous white gown that seemed to hold its own light, while her hair hung like a curtain of midnight, darker than the deepest abyss.
"You did well, Young Lord," Yudris replied, her voice a soothing melody. "You are perfectly in tune with yourself now. Everything is proceeding exactly as planned."
"That's good," Leon said, his gaze fixed on the horizon. "Now, what other mission do you have in mind? I'm starting to tire of the small fries."
"I am preparing one," Yudris said, a faint, cryptic smile touching her lips. "Something to keep you entertained. Something that will last much longer than a single punch. For now... we continue the routine."
"Alright," he replied, closing his eyes as the wind whistled through his white cloak.
Back within the heart of the kingdom, a different kind of fire was spreading. While the "White One" was a ghost story, Claire von Vinci was a living sun.
At twenty-three years old, Claire had become the rising sun of the Vinci name. She was the first and only child of Duke Dris von Vinci to remain, and her ascent was unprecedented. Her stats had soared past the ninety-five thousand mark, placing her at the absolute pinnacle of the S-Rank. The kingdom watched in awe as she neared the threshold of the Legendary Rank. If she succeeded, she would shatter a record held for over two centuries by Lace Freeman, who had reached that peak at twenty-seven.
Despite the gold medals and the royal honors, Claire stood alone in the gardens of the Vinci Mansion. She looked up at the window of her brother's room—a room that had remained a sealed tomb since the day he vanished. No maid was allowed to clean it; no dust was allowed to be disturbed.
"If only I had been stronger," she whispered to the roses.
In the six years since the academy fell, Claire had transformed into a force of nature. She was the only S-Rank in history to face a Black Dragon in single combat and emerge not just alive, but victorious. She was the "Prodigy Who Refused Limits," a warrior fueled by a silent, burning guilt that no medal from the King could ever soothe. She wasn't just training for the kingdom; she was training for a ghost she hoped was still out there.
The whispers of the "White One" had long since ceased to be mere campfire tales. For the Emerald Kingdom, ruled by the cautious King Xerxes, the rumor of an unregistered, unsupervised Legendary Rank was a geopolitical nightmare.
In a world balanced between the Seven Great Nations—the Platinum, Golden, Silver, Emerald, Steel, Diamond, and Dark Kingdoms—power was the only currency that mattered. Each crown kept a meticulous ledger of every Legendary Rank within their borders; a single "unknown" was a variable that could trigger a world war.
Desperate to secure his borders, King Xerxes appealed to the three Legendary Ranks currently residing in the Emerald Kingdom. To his dismay, all three turned him down, uninterested in chasing a ghost through the woods. Left with no other choice, the King summoned the rising prodigy: Claire von Vinci.
He could not command her—the law was a flimsy leash for a woman of her caliber—so he offered a king's ransom: ten thousand gold coins, a statue in the royal palace, a promotion for the Vinci house, and the title of Baroness. Claire didn't care for the gold or the titles, but the rumors of an "impossible" warrior spoke to her soul. It was a chance to test her limits. She accepted and vanished into the treeline.
Enticed by the rewards Claire had ignored, a party of three S-Rank mages led by a fire user named Adam Raymond followed in her wake. They were arrogant, dreaming of the gold and the Baron title, convinced that their combined strength could bring the "White One" to heel.
As they trekked through the dense foliage, they encountered a pack of wild wolves. Adam's flames disintegrated the beasts in a single, practiced sweep.
"Too easy," Adam scoffed, his eyes on the horizon.
But the forest had a way of humbling the proud. Without warning, a shadow eclipsed the sun. A White Dragon, a rare and predatory beast that hunted humans for sport, descended with a screech that shattered the air. These dragons typically haunted the frozen northern coast; its presence here was a freak of nature.
The S-Rank party—fire, earth, and air users—scrambled into formation. While an S-Rank party could theoretically kill a White Dragon, Adam's team was newly promoted. They lacked the scars of experience. The dragon was a master of a deadly triad: Water, Lightning, and Wind.
Lightning strikes rained from a clear sky, ice breath froze the earth, and wind tornadoes tore through their defenses. Every spell Adam launched felt like a child throwing sticks at a fortress wall. Within minutes, the party was broken. Adam, the only one still conscious, watched through a haze of blood as the dragon stepped forward to begin its meal.
Suddenly, the dragon froze. A low, guttural wail escaped its throat. Before it could snap its jaws, its scales began to warp and tear. In a horrific display of absolute power, the massive beast simply... burst. It was shredded from the inside out into a thousand crimson pieces.
Standing behind the gore was Claire von Vinci. She looked at the fallen adventurers with visible disdain. Without a word, she stretched her hand toward them. Using her Matter Manipulation, she didn't just heal their wounds; she literally re-bent their broken bones and reconstructed their shredded skin.
"Go back," she commanded, her voice cold. "You are out of your depth."
The party watched in stunned silence as she walked deeper into the woods, her presence more terrifying than the dragon she had just erased.
Miles away, deep within the primeval heart of the forest, the "White One" sat beneath a massive cedar. His vision, sharpened by five years of communion with the void, pierced through the miles of timber and stone. He saw her—the silver streak of her mana, the familiar rhythm of her stride.
"Young Lord," Yudris murmured, appearing like a ghost at his shoulder. "Your sister is coming. What are your plans for this encounter?"
Leon didn't shift his gaze. He didn't stand. But for the first time in years, a genuine, small smile touched his face—a look that was both nostalgic and incredibly dangerous.
"A happy family reunion," he whispered.