The first snow of winter covered the village in white.
At five years old, Yozaro had become known as the village’s little genius.
Every morning he helped his father at the forge, spent the afternoon studying with Elder Rowan, and secretly trained with Lyra in the forest.
To everyone else, he was just an unusually gifted child.
Only Yozaro knew the truth.
Every night, the books from the mysterious cave appeared in his dreams.
Yet only one book had opened.
Greed.
The other six remained sealed.
One afternoon, while returning from training, Yozaro suddenly stopped.
“…Did you hear that?”
Lyra, walking silently beside him, nodded.
“A cry.”
It was faint.
Painful.
Almost…
pleading.
The two hurried through the snow until they reached a frozen ravine.
There, trapped beneath a fallen tree, was a tiny white wolf cub.
Its silver fur was stained red with blood.
One of its legs was caught beneath the heavy trunk.
The cub growled weakly.
Even injured, it refused to show fear.
Yozaro slowly knelt.
“It’s okay.”
“I’m not your enemy.”
The cub bared its tiny fangs.
Lyra frowned.
“Be careful.”
“That isn’t an ordinary wolf.”
As Yozaro lifted the tree with all his strength, strange blue runes appeared beneath the cub’s fur.
Lyra’s golden eyes widened.
“…Impossible.”
“What?”
“That cub belongs to the Moonfang Guardians.”
“I thought their bloodline disappeared centuries ago.”
The cub collapsed into Yozaro’s arms.
Without hesitation, he tore part of his own cloak and wrapped its wounded leg.
Then he poured a little mana into its body.
The injuries slowly began to heal.
The cub looked up at him.
Its icy-blue eyes softened.
Instead of running away…
It gently rubbed its head against his hand.
A silver light surrounded them both.
A mysterious symbol appeared beneath their feet.
The light faded.
Lyra sighed.
“You’ve formed a Soul Bond.”
Yozaro blinked.
“…A what?”
“A bond that cannot be broken.”
“The wolf has accepted you as its family.”
Suddenly—
TWANG!
An arrow shot through the air.
Yozaro instinctively ducked.
The arrow buried itself into the tree behind him.
Several cloaked figures emerged from the shadows.
“There it is.”
“The last Moonfang.”
One of them pointed his sword at Yozaro.
“Hand over the cub.”
“We’re only here for it.”
Yozaro slowly stood.
“No.”
The leader frowned.
“Then you’ll die with it.”
Three assassins charged simultaneously.
Yozaro’s heart pounded.
He was only five years old.
Against trained killers…
He had almost no chance.
One swordsman swung downward.
Yozaro rolled aside just in time.
The blade split a boulder.
Another enemy thrust a dagger toward him.
At the last moment—
Lyra flashed forward like silver lightning.
Her claws knocked the assassin backward.
“Protect the cub!”
“I’ll hold them!”
The leader smiled coldly.
“You spirit beasts always interfere.”
Dark mana erupted around his sword.
The forest trembled.
Yozaro remembered everything his father had taught him.
Stay calm.
Watch your opponent.
Wait for an opening.
The third assassin rushed toward him.
Instead of retreating…
Yozaro stepped forward.
He gathered mana into the wooden practice sword on his back.
The blade glowed pale blue.
CLANG!
Wood met steel.
The assassin laughed.
“A child?”
Then—
CRACK!
Mana burst from the wooden sword.
The assassin’s steel blade shattered into pieces.
His eyes widened.
“…Impossible!”
Yozaro struck him in the chest.
The man crashed into a tree and lost consciousness.
Before the remaining assassins could attack again—
“Get away from my son!”
A hammer flew through the air.
BOOM!
It slammed into the leader, sending him rolling across the snow.
Gareth.
Behind him came Elder Rowan and several village guards.
The assassins quickly realized they were outnumbered.
“Retreat!”
Within seconds, they disappeared into the forest.
That night, Gareth sat beside the fireplace.
He looked unusually serious.
“You fought armed men.”
Yozaro lowered his head.
“I didn’t want anyone to get hurt.”
His father sighed.
“I know.”
He smiled gently.
“And that’s exactly why I’m proud of you.”
“But promise me something.”
“If you’re ever in a battle you can’t win…”
“…run.”
“Living to protect others tomorrow is better than dying today.”
Yozaro quietly nodded.
“I promise.”
The white wolf had recovered.
Instead of returning to the forest, it refused to leave Yozaro’s side.
It followed him everywhere.
Around the village.
To the forge.
Even while he studied.
The villagers laughed.
“It thinks you’re its brother.”
Yozaro scratched behind its ears.
“I guess you need a name.”
The wolf barked happily.
“How about…”
“…Fenrir.”
The little wolf wagged its tail excitedly.
From that day forward…
Fenrir became Yozaro’s first true companion.
Elsewhere…
Deep beneath the royal capital…
A hooded man stood before a massive black crystal.
The crystal suddenly shimmered.
An image of Yozaro appeared within it.
The man smiled.
“So…”
“He has already found one of the Seven Guardian Bloodlines.”
He slowly closed the crystal.
“The game has begun.”
Behind him…
Seven empty thrones stood in silence.
One of them emitted a faint crimson glow.