Kurana Alexanderia was born in the early 1300s, a scrawny, wide-eyed boy full of restless energy in a world that feared the divine. The three outer gods. Solarius Knight, Purple Sun God, and Goddess of Oxtern Meadows had begun their conquest of the fractured European kingdoms. Villages burned under golden light, purple flames, and meadow-born illusions. Kings knelt. Armies shattered. People whispered prayers at night, terrified of beings who walked among mortals like living cataclysms.
But young Kurana felt something different. Not fear. Curiosity. He wanted to understand the raw power that let them bend reality. He snuck through battlefields after the gods passed, studying scorched earth, lingering auras, and the way ordinary men broke under divine pressure. His family called him reckless. He called it hunger.
Solarius Knight stood out even among the three. Towering, radiant with golden energy, he had recently surged in popularity across ancient Europe. Tales spread of his unmatched martial prowess and unyielding honor. What few knew was his quiet affection for Olivia Alexanderia, a sharp-witted noblewoman whose intellect and ambition matched his own. Their bond was whispered about in shadowed courts, a rare softness in a god's existence.
Kurana first encountered Solarius Knight during a skirmish near a ruined castle. The boy, barely twelve, had followed rumors of the Knight's campaign. When the god's forces clashed with a defiant kingdom's knights, Kurana hid among the rubble, heart pounding.
Solarius Knight moved like living sunlight. His golden armor gleamed as he faced a squadron of elite warriors. One swing of his gauntleted fist sent shockwaves that cracked stone. Kurana watched, mesmerized, as the god dismantled opponents with precise, overwhelming force no wasted motion, every strike carrying divine weight.
Emboldened by awe rather than wisdom, Kurana charged out after the battle, a rusted sword in hand. "Teach me!" he shouted, voice cracking with youth. "Or fight me! I need to know how you do it!"
Solarius Knight turned, amusement flickering in his radiant eyes. The god stood nearly twice the boy's height, yet Kurana didn't flinch. The Knight raised an eyebrow. "A child challenges an outer god? Bold."
The fight was short, brutal, and one-sided. Kurana attacked with reckless fury, swinging wildly. Solarius Knight deflected every blow with casual ease, using open palms and minimal force. A light tap to the chest sent Kurana flying into a wall. Pain exploded through his ribs, but he got up, spitting blood, eyes blazing. Again and again he charged fists, kicks, desperate lunges. Each time, the Knight redirected his momentum, teaching through pain. A sweep of the leg taught balance. A blocked punch taught timing. A near-miss strike taught prediction.
Kurana collapsed after the tenth round, bruised and bleeding, but grinning. "You're… incredible. I want to be like you."
Solarius Knight studied the battered boy for a long moment. Something in Kurana's unyielding spirit stirred him. "You have fire, little one. Very well. I accept you as disciple."
Training began immediately. Solarius Knight poured knowledge into Kurana like molten gold. He taught ancient European sword forms blended with divine martial arts fluid transitions from defense to devastating counters. Footwork that turned the ground into an extension of will. Breathing techniques that channeled inner energy to amplify strength. Kurana absorbed it all, training until his muscles screamed and his bones ached, pushing past human limits through sheer will.
One evening, as purple twilight settled, Solarius Knight decided to share his signature technique. "I am teaching you this move so that you can pass it down to a person stronger than you," he said, voice solemn. "This is my signature attack. Although it is a copy of a more powerful original, it remains devastating."
The Knight demonstrated. He bent his knees slightly, centering his massive frame. His right hand drew back slowly, muscles coiling like a loaded spring. His left hand rose as a shield, golden energy flickering around the palm. Power gathered—intense, radiant, golden godly energy swirling in his right fist until it hummed with planetary pressure. The air itself grew heavy. Distant birds fell silent. The ground trembled faintly.
Then he threw the straight punch.
A beam of concentrated golden force erupted forward, carving a trench through the earth for hundreds of meters. The shockwave rippled outward, trees bending, rocks shattering. The pressure could be felt across the continent—kings in distant halls looked up in alarm, sensing an invisible force pressing against their chests. The attack's afterglow lingered, burning the air with divine residue.
"Tell me, Kurana," Solarius Knight asked, lowering his stance, "how's this?"
Kurana, wide-eyed and breathless from the sheer scale, whispered, "What is the name of this attack?"
The Knight smiled faintly. "I never named it. I copied it from something greater. You want to name it?"
Kurana thought for only a second. "Fist of the Solarius Knight."
The god laughed, a deep, resonant sound. "Fitting. Remember this well: pass this down only to the person you believe can surpass me. Someone with potential greater than us outer gods."
In those intense years of mentorship, Kurana learned truths that shattered his understanding of existence. Far beyond the multiverse lay two greater forces.
The first was the Hourglass of Heaven and Hell an artifact said to govern the flow of souls and cosmic judgment across realities. The second was the Mystic Realm, a higher plane of gods and infinite power. Solarius Knight himself hailed from there, an outer god who had descended for reasons he rarely spoke of.
Kurana trained relentlessly, mastering the Fist of the Solarius Knight through endless repetition. Each punch refined his control—gathering energy without wasting it, directing the devastating force with precision. He felt the weight of legacy on his shoulders. The move wasn't just power; it was a test of worthiness. Only one who could eclipse an outer god deserved it.
Solarius Knight watched his disciple grow, pride mixing with quiet melancholy. "You burn bright, Kurana. But power always demands a price. Use it wisely."
Kurana's path diverged as he matured into a formidable force in his own right, carrying the teachings of an outer god while navigating the brutal politics of a conquered Europe.
The three gods continued their campaigns, but Kurana's loyalty remained tied to Solarius Knight the mentor who had turned a curious boy into something greater. Yet seeds of ambition and vengeance had already been planted, shaping the man who would one day stand at the center of Vaelion's storms.
The lessons endured. The Fist remained a closely guarded secret, waiting for the day Kurana deemed someone worthy someone with potential to surpass even the outer gods themselves.