In the exalted realm, the lowest level of cultivation is the everlasting core, followed by the indestructible core and the colossal core. Each consisting of 10 levels.

After these cores have been established in the powerful existences living in the exalted realm, they must cultivate the matters that create space to advance. However, not all have to be cultivated to the highest level of the core. For one to break through to the next realm, the five elements; wood, fire, earth, metal and water must be cultivated to at least the fifth level, with their main affiliation having to reach the tenth level.

Once these steps have been completed, one can enter the celestial core. At this stage, controlling parts of the universe becomes possible and creating life in the lower realms is usually the first things a cultivator at this level wants to do.

Rumours exist where the power of ying and yang are used in the eastern realm and the confederation is closely looking into this.

In the western realm, the demons are ruled by the Thar’aron family on planet Thar’aron. They solidified their position 4 million years ago with their ancestor breaking through to the origin core, setting him far superior to his peers and leading the demon race into the new era. The era of Balgis.

It is now the year 5.400.548 of the Balgis era, every era starts by the birth of the ruler of their kind. The current ancestor and king of the Demons is Balgis Thar’aron. He struggled a lot to get where he was and after he obtained his position struggled against the biggest foe of them all; time.

The planet Thar’aron has a radius of 40.000 km, a hub for all races in the western realm. Most of the planet is populated by the demons but in all cities, especially trading cities, it is bustling with hybrids and necromancers. It possesses no water nor oceans, it is a completely dry planet where the sun barely shines.

The capital of Thar’aron is Traglunoth, named after the first demon whom attained the origin core cultivation. This is the home of the imperial family Thar’aron and it’s where the palace is located. It spans over 8.000 km and the palace holds almost 1/3rd of that.

The palace is of demonic design, broad strong red walls painted in blood, strong spikes engraved in protection runes to deny invaders entry, a grand castle that pierces the sky to show its dominance.

In the throne room of the castle, stands an old man whom is looking at the painting of Traglunoth. “You didn’t beat time, and soon, the same will be for me” he sighs with his eyes still showing the fierceness he showed in his younger days.

This old man is the current ancestor and ruler of the demon race, Balgis. A 3-meter robust old man whom is only covering his private parts with silken shorts, engraved in beautiful golden runes. He has red skin, two large horns pointing out of his head and deep dark red eyes. A deathly aura comes off him, as time has taken its toll despite the achievements he’s made in his lifetime.

“None of my descendants have managed to even touch the brink of the origin core, even with all the resources and guidance I gave them” He laments thinking of the millions of years he’s put in his race and kin to beat the never-ending fight against time.

“I have travelled all parts of the realm and visited all realms searching for answers with only the humans in the east showing some promise. Their young’uns only take 20 years to reach the peak of their power before they mature and try to break through even further. They already have over 100 origin core members in their 13 factions. Yet, my race only has one. The killing of the devas at the beginning of time truly gave them an advantage but their fierce competition amongst one another makes it so that barely any of them manage to age over 200.000.”

The old man moves his eyes away from the painting and looks up to his throne, made of the skulls of the worthy opponents he fought in his lifetime. The current count of the skulls on the chair is 483. “It’s been over 500.000 years since I last fought one worthy enough to be immortalized in my throne… None of us can reincarnate but their skulls remain” a cruel smile comes on the old man’s face as kindness was never his forte.

He walks up the stairs leading to his throne and softly touches the chair before turning around and sitting down. A dominating aura, only worthy of a ruler whom has slayed many to get to his position, comes out and the 12 pillars supporting the roof tremble before it. Each pillar has one of the generals that followed Balgis on his journey engraved in them, the eyes on it burn brightly red as if they return to life once more as if their emperor is calling them for war in the realms once again.

“Guards!” The old man looks at the fortified draconic doors and summons the guards inside.

The two heavy draconic doors open as 50 guards enter marching towards the steps of the throne before kneeling. “You have summoned us, emperor Balgis?” The guard in front asks.

“Indeed. I want you to go into the city and bring my youngest descendants here. If they refuse, tell them they will be hanged on walls of this castle! Also, make sure you give them a beating deserving of their crimes. If not even one of them arrives bleeding in this throne room I shall give you all a severe punishment!”

The fifty guards look at their emperor with slight surprise before standing up and bowing “As you command! We will bring them all back with a punishment engraved into their bodies before they arrive!” They leave the throne room, closing the draconic doors behind them.

The old man looks up in thought “These young’uns only want to indulge themselves in the pleasure of hybrids in the brothel… My descendants have truly degraded over time. These 3 unfilial ones shall be the last I guide before I pass on.”

He takes out an old book out of his ring, an interspatial ring which can hold objects of any kind within the small space the creator has made inside it and opens the book.

It’s the book which marks any Thar’aron born in the realms and dims out when they pass away. The old man scrolls to the most recent page and looks down on 3 names that are his youngest three descendants

Kegmoz, age 83. Reached the lowest stage of the colossal core but has remained lazy and unmotivated to continue, rather spreading his family’s name around and indulging in sexual pleasure with the hybrids in the brothel of the city.

Murgal, age 105. Reached the upper stages of the colossal core but spends most of his time gambling his family’s money away in the betting halls and often abusing the guards to bully anyone that even remotely glares at him.

Arkoluth, age 170. Reached the first step towards the celestial core but spends most of his time having incestual relations with his cousins, mostly forcing them due to his bloodline being purer and the true rulers of Thar’aron.

“Hmpf, shameful. SHAMEFUL! They dare abuse the name I grew over all these years to play around and don’t even bother cultivating! All of them are still in the lowest stages in the exalted realm!” A murderous aura comes out of the old man as he reads the description of the three.

“I will set them right, and if their parents dare even mutter a word I’ll send them straight to the torture rooms. My bloodline will not end by the hands of three impotent dogs!”