It was the Year 955 of the Celestial Calendar, and the region of Solaryn, one of the six radiant territories nestled within the fourth heaven, bore witness to a tale woven in sorrow and survival. Nestled within Solaryn's expanse was a small village under the Iron Sovereign Domain, a place rich in Umbrium Iron, the rare, shimmering metal believed to carry the blessings of the God of Metal and Forgery.

This village, Umbraxis, pulsed with the rhythm of industry. The villagers toiled day and night, mining the precious Umbrium ore from the deep, treacherous caves beneath their feet, offering it as tribute to the divine temple towering above the region. It was a harsh life, but one dictated by duty and reverence.

At the heart of this rugged village stood Roland, known as Umbraxis' Chief, a man of unwavering resolve and the father of Kal. His authority stretched beyond mere leadership; he was a symbol of strength, overseeing the delicate balance between man and god.

In the same village lived another family, the triplets, their fates intertwined with Kal's in ways none of them could yet comprehend. Their mother, a stoic figure, worked tirelessly on the support teams, hauling the heavy iron ores from the shadowy mine caves. Their father, equally burdened, served as an escort, transporting these ores to the temple and delivering refined metals across the neighboring domains.

But fate has a way of crushing even the strongest steel.

That year, a violent thunderstorm unlike any the village had ever seen descended from the heavens. The skies roared, and the earth trembled beneath the weight of the storm's fury. The Umbrium mines, rich with conductive metal, became a magnet for the storm's wrath. Bolts of lightning speared the ground, their blinding brilliance illuminating the darkened sky as if the gods themselves were striking down in anger.

When the storm finally ceased, silence gripped the village. But it was the kind of silence that follows devastation. The dead lay where they fell, their lives snuffed out in an instant. Among the few survivors was the triplets' mother, though she had not escaped unscathed. Her lower body was paralyzed, and her internal organs ravaged, leaving her trapped in a living prison of pain and helplessness.

Their father, crushed by grief but driven by desperation, threw himself deeper into work. He toiled tirelessly, taking on more dangerous jobs, clinging to the fragile hope that he could earn enough to heal his dying wife. But the burden weighed heavy, and his absence grew longer and longer, leaving the three young sisters alone in a house filled with hunger and despair.

The absence of their father left the eldest sister, Lunara, to shoulder a responsibility no child should bear. Matured far too quickly, she became both protector and provider, her heart hardened by necessity. She left the safety of home, braving the cruel streets in search of food to feed her starving sisters and ailing mother. Desperation became her constant companion, and she soon found herself stealing and robbing, punished more often than pitied.

But one day, amidst the harshness of her struggle, she crossed paths with Kal, the son of the village chief.

Something in her worn, determined eyes stirred his heart. Rather than report her, Kal, moved by her plight, began to help her in small ways, sharing scraps of food, guiding her through the labyrinth of the village's back alleys. Their friendship, born from the ashes of survival, began to blossom. In his presence, Lunara felt a brief reprieve from her burdens, and the two formed a bond forged in shared hardship.

Sometimes, when Lunara couldn't go, Salara, the second sister would step in, posing as Lunara to seek Kal's help. Over time, a quiet affection began to stir in Salara's heart, feelings that went beyond mere friendship. But, sharing both her sister's name and her struggles weighed heavily on her young mind. She suppressed her emotions, watching from the shadows, unwilling to come between her sister and the boy who had shown them kindness, unknowingly become her secret solace.

But the fragile peace they had carved out was not destined to last. A year later, tragedy struck again. The triplets' father, while escorting a shipment of iron with his team, was ambushed by unknown assailants. He fought bravely but fell beneath the attackers' blades. The news of his death hit the family like a dagger to the heart, but the tragedy hasn't over for them. Few months later, their mother succumbed to her injuries, her weakened body finally giving in.

Left orphaned and vulnerable, the sisters faced a cruel decision. There was nothing left for them in Umbraxis but memories and pain. They abandoned their village, setting off on a vagabond journey through, which led them to the Primordial World, driven by a fierce will to survive on their own terms.

Meanwhile, Kal grappled with his own demons. Haunted by his father's expectations, Despite his noble lineage, he grew to resent the rigid life laid out before him. The weight of his father expectation became shackles around his ankles, to become a puppet lord, bound by the same chains of duty that had ensnared him. But Kal's spirit was unyielding. Three months after the triplets' departure, Kal himself fled the village, leaving behind the shadows of his past to carve his own path in a world that was as unforgiving as it was unpredictable.

Thus, the fates of Kal and the triplet sisters became threads woven into the same tapestry of loss and defiance, each now carrying the scars of their past as they navigated the chaotic landscapes of their new world.

Inside the old wooden house that served as the triplet sisters' hideout, the atmosphere was thick with unspoken tension. At the center of the dimly lit room stood a rectangular table, its surface scarred with scratches from years of use. The flickering light of a single oil lamp, perched precariously on a cracked wooden wall, cast long, dancing shadows that seemed to sway with the weight of the conversation. The wavering glow illuminated the faces around the table, highlighting furrowed brows and clenched jaws, while the corners of the room remained swallowed by darkness.

On one side of the table, Kal sat sandwiched between Lunara, the eldest of the triplets, and Solara, the second sister. Their proximity felt both familiar and suffocating, as if the walls themselves were closing in. Nonara, the youngest, sat next to them, her eyes sharp and restless. Across from them sat Nyxander, his posture relaxed yet commanding, flanked by Bako on his left and Bili on his right. The room felt like a powder keg, with the fire of clashing gazes ready to ignite it at any moment.

Nonara, unable to restrain her curiosity, leaned forward slightly, her sharp gaze piercing through the dim light as she studied Kal. The sight of him sitting so close to her sisters seemed to irritate her more than she cared to admit. Meanwhile, Kal sat stiffly, the weight of their stares pressing down on him. Beads of sweat trickled from his hairline, sliding down his cheeks like nervous raindrops from a storm that hadn't quite passed.

Nyxander's voice broke the silence, smooth and laced with amusement. "Who would have expected you to have such an interesting and... terrifying past?" His head tilted slightly as he gave Kal a knowing wink, the mockery in his tone subtle but unmistakable.

"We've been friends for years, and you never told us about your past," Bako added, his voice rising with frustration as his fist slammed against the table, sending a dull echo through the room. "Yeah," Bili chimed in, his eyes narrowing. "We thought we were close enough to trust each other with our secrets. But here we are, just now hearing about this mysterious past of yours."

Kal raised his hands in a defensive gesture, his voice tinged with both guilt and discomfort. "That's not it," he began, his words coming out in a rush. "I never brought it up because... it's not about trust. It's just..." he paused, searching for the right words, "it's embarrassing. An old wound I've tried to forget."

The tension hung heavy, like a storm cloud refusing to break, until Nyxander's voice cut through again, this time softer, almost understanding. "Instead of seeing it that way," he said, placing a hand on both Bako's and Bili's shoulders, "why don't you see it as someone just trying to bury his past?"

For a moment, the room grew quiet, the only sound the faint creak of the wooden beams overhead. Then, slowly, Bako and Bili nodded, the tension in their shoulders easing. "Thanks for understanding," Kal said quietly, his gratitude genuine as he shifted his gaze back to Nyxander. "But... about why we came here..."

Nyxander waved a hand dismissively, cutting him off mid-sentence. "Don't worry about that," he said, his voice laced with indifference. "They've decided not to join." But before his words could settle, Solara's voice rang out, sharp and unwavering. "We are joining your team," she declared, her eyes locking onto Nyxander's with a defiant glint.

Nyxander's lips curled into a slow, knowing smile, while Bako and Bili exchanged startled glances, their disbelief evident. "What?"

Lunara sighed, the weight of the decision clear in her voice. But she straightened her back, her voice firm. "Yes, just like she said. We're joining your team."

Nyxander leaned forward slightly, his smile fading into something more serious. "Joining my team because of someone is improper," he said, his words deliberate and pointed. "There's no loyalty in that, not to me, at least."

Solara clenched her teeth, her fists curling in her lap, while Lunara pressed her lips together, a bead of sweat tracing a slow path down her temple. The room felt like it was holding its breath, waiting for something to give.

"You don't have to worry," Kal interjected, his voice calm but resolute. "Serving under Boss will benefit you. And you don't have to fully trust him," he added, raising his right fist and pointing his thumb toward himself. "But trust my judgment. I'd never choose the wrong person to follow."

Nyxander's faint smile returned, a flicker of something unreadable passing through his eyes. The two elder sisters exchanged a silent glance, their eyes speaking volumes in the span of a heartbeat. Then, as if moved by an unspoken decision, they both rose from their seats in unison, stepping back and dropping to one knee, their right knees touching the ground while their left feet remained firmly planted.

"Please accept our loyalty," they said in perfect harmony, their voices steady, "and guide us down the right path."

For a moment, Nonara sat frozen, her eyes darting between her sisters and Nyxander. Then, unable to suppress her anger, she shot to her feet, her palms slamming against the table with a sharp crack that echoed through the room.

"I can't make this pervert my leader!" she spat, pointing a trembling finger at Nyxander, her face flushed with a mix of fury and humiliation from their earlier encounter. "Nonara," Lunara snapped, her tone sharp and commanding. "Shut up and come over here."

Nonara hesitated, her eyes burning with defiance, but after a moment, she bit her tongue and stalked over to her sisters, her movements stiff with resentment. "Please forgive her rudeness and accept her," Solara added, her voice softer now but no less sincere. "We guarantee her loyalty to you."

The lamp's flame flickered once more, casting their shadows long and distorted across the walls, as the fragile truce settled into place. The tension hadn't vanished, but it had shifted, now bound by new alliances and uneasy promises.

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