Hans

With the passing of the years, legends had replaced reality, and each kingdom called him by a different name. For some, he was the Guardian of the Scarlet Flame; for others, the Knight of the Eclipse. Children spoke of him as if he were an immortal hero, while enemy armies uttered his title in hushed voices, fearing that even the wind could carry his name to his ears. He wore black armor crossed with red filigree that seemed to move like living embers under the sunlight. Each engraving had been forged by the ancient blacksmiths of Arkanor, using a metal capable of withstanding both steel and magic. On one of his shoulders rested a long red cape that waved even when the wind did not blow. On his back he carried a silver-bladed sword known as Asterion, a weapon that, according to ancient chronicles, had been tempered with the fire of a meteorite that fell from the sky centuries ago. However, the sword was not what his enemies feared most. It was his left hand. When he opened his palm, a small sphere of golden light began to form slowly. At first it seemed like a simple spark, but within seconds it grew to become a miniature sun whose energy was capable of piercing walls, disintegrating monsters, and splitting mountains. Many thought that energy was magic. They were wrong. It was will.

Updated September 23, 2026