PROLOGUE: Before the Beginning
Before there were kingdoms, wars, or heroes, there was Aurion.
Aurion was a celestial being of pure light.
He created the world and gave humanity a power that lived within their souls—Spiritual Energy.
But Aurion had an enemy.
Kuroth, the Demon of Darkness.
Kuroth descended upon the world with one purpose: to destroy everything Aurion had created.
A great war followed.
The battle between Aurion and Kuroth shook the heavens and shattered the stars.
In the end, Aurion was mortally wounded.
With the last of his strength, he created humanity and gave them his remaining spiritual power.
But Kuroth returned.
His army of darkness spread across the world, and humanity was pushed to the edge of extinction.
Then, three warriors rose.
Aurelius Bright.
The strongest of the three.
A master of divine light who awakened the God’s Eyes, a flawless technique that allowed him to draw directly upon Aurion’s absolute power.
Kaelen Draken.
A ruthless warrior who wielded the destructive force of dragonfire.
Valeria Valoris.
An unmatched defender whose spiritual power could withstand attacks capable of destroying mountains.
Together, the three heroes faced Kuroth.
And they won.
Kuroth was defeated and sealed away, bringing an end to the great war.
But the story did not end there.
Three mysterious beings descended from the heavens.
They called themselves the Elders—ancient worshippers of Aurion.
To honor the three heroes, the Elders created a massive floating sanctuary above the clouds.
High Heaven.
The surviving warriors and the descendants of the three heroes were taken there.
They became the Nobles.
Below them, the rest of humanity remained on the ground, left to survive in a world still filled with the scars of war.
For centuries, High Heaven stood above the world as a symbol of peace.
A paradise above the clouds.
But paradise has its secrets.
And eventually…
those secrets will reach the surface.
CHAPTER 1: The Boy of the Lower World
Far in the west lay an isolated island known as Dragon Island.
It earned its ominous name from the colossal dragon skull resting at its center—a relic of an ancient age.
Funny enough, the leader of this desolate island was a man known as Dragon Tempest: The King of Revolution.
Standing well over six feet tall, he possessed a massive, heavy-built frame, broad shoulders, and long grey hair that fell loose around his face.
His skin was a canvas of deep scars—war trophies from a past he rarely spoke of.
“Again.”
Dragon’s voice was heavy as a falling boulder.
He stood casually in the downpour, holding a simple wooden sword.
Before him stood Justus.
He was a sixteen-year-old boy with dark hair and striking crimson eyes.
His clothes were soaked from the pouring rain, caked in mud and dirt.
Clasping his own wooden sword with white knuckles, Justus gritted his teeth, tightened his grip, and charged.
Swoosh!
He swung violently toward Dragon’s shoulder, but the giant merely tilted his head, letting the breeze of the attack pass him.
Reacting instantly, Justus shifted his weight and redirected the strike straight toward Dragon’s ribs.
THUD!
Dragon blocked the heavy blow using nothing more than his bare forearm.
“Too slow,” Dragon grunted.
Justus gritted his teeth.
He poured spiritual energy into his legs, bursting forward with a sudden surge of speed.
Swinging his wooden blade with every ounce of strength in his body, he aimed straight for the neck.
Stop.
The wooden sword halted inches from Dragon’s neck.
Dragon had caught the speeding blade effortlessly between two fingers.
A faint grin played on his battle-worn lips.
Justus lowered his sword, panting heavily as rain mixed with sweat dripped from his chin.
“I swung that blow with all my might and you caught it with two fingers?” Justus glared at him, looking thoroughly irritated.
“Are you trying to mock me, old man?”
“That’s much better,” Dragon said, casually releasing the blade.
Justus leaned on his sword, trying to catch his breath.
“Hey, old man?”
“Mmmmmh?”
“Do you think I can beat you someday?”
Dragon burst into a heavy, booming laugh, turning his back on the boy.
“You?
Maybe when I’m dead!”
“That’s not very encouraging, you know,” Justus frowned.
“I’m not as strong as I used to be back in my prime, and you can’t even land a single hit on me now,” Dragon replied casually over his shoulder.
“So how do you expect to ever beat me?”
Justus grumbled, shaking his head.
“You’re a jerk, you know that?
One day I will take you down.
Just wait and see.”
Dragon paused.
He turned around, stepped closer to the boy, and gently patted his messy, wet hair.
“Listen, kid.
You already know how to fight.”
Justus looked down at his own hands, his face growing a little pale.
“Hey…
why am I different?”
Dragon’s expression instantly stilled.
Justus noticed it right away.
It was always like this—whenever he asked about himself, his origins, or his nature, Dragon went completely quiet.
“Different how?” Dragon asked carefully.
“I don’t know…” Justus hesitated, staring at his palms.
“Sometimes…
I feel something inside me.”
Dragon’s eyes narrowed slightly.
“What kind of something?”
“I don’t know,” Justus whispered, closing his eyes.
For a brief second, a faint, pure glow of spiritual light appeared around his hands.
Light.
Dragon watched silently.
But deep within Justus’ hands, a pitch-black mark briefly surfaced across his palm.
Dragon’s expression shifted sharply.
“Justus!”
The boy snapped his eyes open, and the darkness vanished instantly.
“What?” Justus asked, looking confused.
Dragon stared at him intently for several long seconds before turning away, hiding his eyes.
“Nothing.”
Justus frowned, his crimson eyes locking onto the older man.
“You’re lying.”
“You’re becoming too observant,” Dragon chuckled faintly, though there was no humor behind it.
Far above them, beyond the clouds and far out of reach of ordinary humans, stood High Heaven—a world of gods, nobles, and ancient secrets.
Inside one of its magnificent, towering halls, a man with extraordinary eyes stood staring out a floor-to-ceiling window.
His name was Alexander Bright.
He was the eldest son and head of the Bright Family—one of the legendary Three Great Families, and the bearer of the God’s Eyes.
He looked down toward the distant, lower world below, his expression cool and unreadable.
Then, slowly, a smirk tugged at his lips.
“Seems he’s doing well, huh?” Bright murmured to the empty room.
Back on Dragon Island, Justus picked his wooden sword back up from the mud.
“Come on.”
Dragon raised an eyebrow.
“Where?”
“I’m not done training,” Justus said, raising his guard once more.
Dragon’s mouth curved into a proud smirk.
“Good.”
Welcome to God Is Not There!
The prologue sets up the ancient history and core world-building.
What do you guys think of the Three Great Families and the God’s Eyes technique?
I’ll be dropping chapters regularly.
If you enjoy the story, make sure to add it to your library and leave a comment—your feedback helps a ton!
Ideas are also welcome.