Rexar

“Go! Hurry! We head north! To the farthest north!”

Rexar raised his staff high, urging his people onward into the biting winds of Kotchiwi. The harsh cold tore through all warmth, the land reduced to ruins by the Void. It was in that winter that the Takin Tribe left their home of a hundred years to the far northern lands. Back then, Rexar was only sixteen.

As outsiders, suspicion and hostility shadowed their every step. The Takin Tribe endured the harshest cold, despoiled lands, and the coldest treatment. Amid this time of confusion, Rexar shone like the North Star in the darkest night. He claimed the crown at the Northlands' quadrennial Glacier Festival and performed the triumphant dance whose origin was related to the Takin Tribe's ancient conquest of the Northlands—the Song of the Ice King. In that year, the nineteen-year-old Rexar earned a huge reputation across the icy plains, his words drawing attention from leaders of all tribes: “The Takin Tribe shall be restored to its former glory!”

Rexar was 22 when he ventured alone to the ruins left by his ancestors in the icy plains with his staff as his guide. There, he invoked the spirits under the title of the former Northlands ruler, Takin, before returning with the relic covered in past glory—the Pure Ice. This heroic act rekindled his people's long-dormant fighting spirit and faith. Nurtured by the Pure Ice, the Takin Tribe's very constitution subtly began to change, with strength and martial fervor renewed. Led by Rexar, they emerged victorious in every battle.

In his thirties, the Takin Tribe's banner flew proudly in every corner of the Northlands. Rexar was hailed as king by every tribe on the snow-clad land, and the former splendor of his tribe once more illuminated the eternal frozen lands. A century later, he was revered as the greatest hero in Takin Tribe history.

On his coronation day, a deep blue cloak symbolizing the extreme cold slipped from the statue of the Ice Domain God, draping Rexar's shoulders. While the tribes praised this as a divine sign of the true king's arrival, Rexar, seated upon the frigid throne, furrowed his brow deeply.

In the third year of his reign as King of the Northlands, Rexar quietly set aside his crown and disappeared into the howling blizzard. With him vanished the Pure Ice, the source of unparalleled glory for the Takin Tribe. The hero's sudden absence left his people in a state of confusion and despair, with only an empty throne to whisper of once-great splendor.

In truth, this was not an unfamiliar story for the Takins. It was over a century ago that the “Last King” Minoran had stripped the tribe of their Pure Ice and led them south to Kotchiwi. Legend has it that the spire atop Mount Parcius, the gateway to the far northern lands, was crafted by Minoran himself from bronze, where he made his people swear an unbreakable vow: the Takin Tribe shall never set foot in the far North again.

As time flowed on and memories faded, the Takin Tribe ultimately broke their vow and returned to the northern lands, driven by the looming threat of the Void. History, it seemed, was doomed to repeat itself. Although Rexar did not lead his people away from the North, suspicion festered like an unshakeable virus. Just as rumors had once plagued Minoran, whispers began to spread: “Rexar seeks to hoard the power of the Pure Ice for himself.”

Bereft of both the Pure Ice and their king, the Takin Tribe retreated to a corner of the northern lands. Though Rexar's lingering influence afforded them a tenuous hold on survival, the glory and splendor of their past had dispersed like fragile snowflakes, vanishing into the cold, unfeeling winds.

Where had Rexar vanished to? Was he truly coveting the power of the Pure Ice? Was there a connection between Minoran's actions and Rexar's disappearance? Countless questions continued to swirl within the Takin Tribe. It wasn't until decades later, when the gods revealed the sins of the Void to the world, that the answers came to light, exposing the truth for all to see.

“No, I was wrong. It's not glory or power—it's a curse! I only hope it's not too late... it can't be!”

After Omega, the Void Lord, uncovered the realm of Esper Continent, he did not sit idly by. Seven “seeds” were sent through the labyrinthine corridors of the Void to the farthest reaches of the continent. These seeds took on the guise of “power,” subtly warping the minds of living beings, driving them to become increasingly irritable and aggressive, eventually morphing them into Void abominations. Among these sinister seeds was the Pure Ice, once revered by the Takin Tribe as a sacred relic.

The wise and virtuous former king, Minoran, sensing the threat, forcibly separated and sealed the Pure Ice from his people. He then led the Takin Tribe away from the northern lands where the ice was sealed. If not for Rexar, it might have remained hidden from the world forever.

When the Ice Realm God projected this history into Rexar's mind, he initially found himself baffled. Why had Minoran chosen to keep the truth about the Pure Ice hidden rather than revealing it openly, and why had he opted to seal it away and relocate the tribe? It wasn't until Rexar proposed the idea of re-sealing the Pure Ice to the esteemed elders and encountered widespread resistance that he began to understand. Not everyone can remain sober in the face of power, especially after growing so accustomed to savoring its seductive sweetness. How could one simply cast it aside as if it were worthless?

It turned out that the ancestors' true intention was to ensure that the Takin Tribe would completely forget this glorious past.

Go to Kotchiwi, my children. There, you'll find lush pastures and gentle, warming breezes. Forsake the harsh chill of the northern lands and release the hidden power—banish it from your memory, as if it had never existed in the first place.

Yet, by a twist of fate, the Void led the Minotaurs back to the icy plains, and the hero Rexar, long absent for centuries, inadvertently unleashed that very demon. Initially, Rexar, with his pride intact, harbored a glimmer of hope. But as the Takin Tribe grew ever stronger and the dormant Void became increasingly restless, the tribe's obsession with war, destruction, and conquest deepened. Rexar knew it was time for him to act.

It soon became evident that Minoran's escape had been a mere stopgap, failing to address the root of the problem. Rexar, undeterred by the risks, chose to take a daring stand. Resolute and unyielding, he vowed to annihilate the Pure Ice entirely, once and for all breaking the ancient curse that had plagued his people through the ages.

The ancient records reveal that while the Pure Ice epitomizes the utmost chill, it might not be invincible. Perhaps only the most intense of flames could hope to melt it. And the fiercest fire in the Esper Continent burns within the Celestial Realm that crowns Yggdrasil.

That year, Rexar took a monumental risk, sealing the Void's seed, the Pure Ice, within himself. It was also the year he laid aside his crown of power and set out on the uncharted path to the Celestial Realm. At thirty-two, Rexar's name would be remembered differently in the annals of history: before that year, he was hailed as a great hero; after it, he would be celebrated as a true legend.