The planet Zacarion was truly massive—about three times the size of Earth. In this world, magic was commonplace. Every human being had the ability to harness mana to enhance their bodies, cast spells, or do almost anything, really. Thanks to mana, even though the political landscape still resembled that of the Middle Ages, technology had advanced far beyond.
Zacarion was composed of three major continents: Vasulina, Soummara, and Platlinam.
Our story takes place in Soummara, where four kingdoms and factions rule: the Kingdom of Sylwenne, the Kingdom of Thandros, the rebel-controlled lands, and the Tribes of the North.
The two kingdoms, ancient and powerful, held most of the land in Soummara. This inevitably led to numerous conflicts over the years—the most brutal being the War of the Southern Plains.
That catastrophic war, which took place a few decades ago, caused countless deaths across the continent. Vasulina and Platlinam, being far more unified, chose not to involve themselves.
Taking advantage of the kingdoms' weakened states, the rebels launched surprise attacks on poorly defended regions, rapidly expanding their territory.
By a surprising twist of fate, the kingdoms—sworn enemies until then—were forced to become unlikely allies. They joined forces to push back their common enemy: the rebels.
However, seeing their goals align more with the rebels, the Tribes of the North also took up arms—against the kingdoms.
In fact, their intervention became a turning point in the war. The rebels, who had been steadily losing ground, managed to force a stalemate.
Still, that's when all sense of morality flew out the window.
War crimes became daily occurrences. Prisoners were experimented on, exiled, or even executed publicly as a form of twisted entertainment.
No one was safe—not even regular citizens. But even then, manpower was beginning to dwindle. After several years of brutal warfare, both sides were exhausted, and resources had been stretched thin.
Eventually, a ceasefire was implemented, giving everyone a much-needed moment of respite.
Vael Icaris, sixteen years old, casually strolled down the road to his village. The young man looked… average: blonde, tall, not too skinny, not too fat. The typical tribesman, you could say.
Behind him, dragged along a sled, was the carcass of a boar, fresh blood still leaking from a wound in its chest.
That's right—Vael had gone hunting by himself. Normally, hunting parties were sent out in squads to provide for the small village. But Vael went alone. To train his skills, he claimed.
Though, those who knew him understood the truth: he was just a little shy.
Up in the north, snow was common. A few adults were shoveling paths nearby, the rhythm of their efforts forming a soothing background melody.
Some glanced at Vael, but none paid him much attention.
Undeterred, Vael continued on to his humble home, where his sister, brother, and mother were waiting for him.
Suddenly, Vael collapsed to the floor, writhing in pain.
He thrashed about as the agony intensified. A splitting headache had appeared out of nowhere—and it only got worse.
"Mmmmaaaaaargh!"
After five minutes that felt like hours, the pain finally subsided, and he could breathe again.
He was drenched in sweat—but he didn't care. Because:
"No way… I'm back! That stone actually worked!"
Vael had returned to the past, ready to rewrite his fate.
But can he truly prevent the disasters that once tore his world apart?