A Sorcerer's Journey

Glenn wakes up on bare stone, the taste of ash on his tongue, a stranger even to his own name.

Above him, towers carved with runes bend the sky. Below, cities kneel to those who can command fire from the air, freeze a river with a glance, fold distance like paper. On Sorcerer Continent, knowledge isn’t just power—it’s law, currency, and executioner. The great sorcerers have measured out the elements, mapped time itself, and claimed the world as their experiment.

Glenn has none of that. No past, no patron, not even a spell to light a candle. What he does have are quick hands, a talent for listening when others think he’s not, and a stubborn, quiet belief: if he can just find the right leverage, he can move more than his own small life.

From back‑alley duels where discarded apprentices test deadly tricks, to courts that smell of incense and blood where rulers smile over poisoned tea, he keeps slipping sideways through danger—half by nerve, half by sheer accident. Every favor he accepts knots him tighter into unseen schemes. Every scrap of arcane lore he steals or bargains for shifts the balance between warring factions.

As wars simmer, oaths crack, and the old sorcerers watch from their high towers, Glenn’s search for a place to belong slowly turns into something sharper. On a continent ruled by those who bend reality, he learns the one thing they fear most is someone who refuses to play the role they chose for him.