One Year Later…
The village had changed.
New houses stood where burned ones once lay.
The forge had reopened.
Children laughed again.
Life had returned.
But one place never changed.
Every Sunday morning…
A small boy carrying white flowers climbed a quiet hill overlooking the village.
Two graves rested beneath a great oak tree.
One belonged to Gareth.
The other was still empty.
Yozaro knelt before his father’s grave.
“I’ve become stronger.”
“I can finally swing your hammer with one hand.”
“I still lose to Lyra…”
“But not by much anymore.”
Fenrir lay quietly beside him.
The wind gently rustled the leaves.
That evening, Elena called Yozaro into the house.
Her smile was warm.
But her eyes looked tired.
“I’ve been thinking.”
Yozaro looked up.
“You can’t stay here forever.”
He lowered his head.
“I know.”
“Elder Rowan says the Royal Academy accepts talented children.”
“You should go.”
Yozaro hesitated.
“What about you?”
Elena gently held his face.
“A mother’s job…”
“…isn’t to keep her child beside her forever.”
“It’s to give him the courage to leave.”
Tears welled in Yozaro’s eyes.
“I don’t want to lose anyone else.”
She hugged him tightly.
“You won’t.”
The next day…
Elder Rowan invited Yozaro to his home.
Instead of tea…
He placed an old wooden box on the table.
Inside rested a worn leather journal.
“I’ve kept this secret for forty years.”
“It belonged to the greatest adventurer I ever knew.”
Yozaro carefully opened it.
Inside were detailed maps of forgotten ruins.
Descriptions of monsters.
Ancient languages.
And one strange drawing.
Seven stone thrones.
Exactly like the ones from his dreams.
His heart skipped a beat.
“You’ve seen these…”
Rowan smiled.
“I haven’t.”
“My friend did.”
“He disappeared before he could tell me where they were.”
Yozaro slowly closed the journal.
“I’ll find them.”
Rowan nodded.
“I believe you will.”
The entire village gathered at the entrance.
Elena packed enough food for several weeks.
Lyra walked quietly beside Fenrir.
Even the village children came to say goodbye.
One little girl ran toward Yozaro.
It was the child he had saved during the bandit attack.
She handed him a blue ribbon.
“So you don’t forget us.”
Yozaro smiled.
“I never will.”
Two days into their journey…
The mountain path became strangely quiet.
Lyra suddenly stopped walking.
“…We’re surrounded.”
Eight masked men stepped from the trees.
Unlike ordinary bandits…
These men wore black armor covered in silver symbols.
Their leader slowly removed his hood.
Golden eyes.
Cold smile.
“So…”
“You’re the child.”
Yozaro narrowed his eyes.
“You know me?”
“We know enough.”
“Our master wants you alive.”
Fenrir growled.
Lyra stepped forward.
“Run.”
“I’ll hold them.”
The leader laughed.
“A spirit fox against eight Shadow Hunters?”
“You’ll die.”
The assassins attacked together.
Three rushed toward Lyra.
Two surrounded Elena.
Three charged directly at Yozaro.
His breathing slowed.
He remembered every lesson Gareth had taught him.
Observe.
Adapt.
Strike only once.
The first assassin swung.
Yozaro sidestepped.
The sword missed by inches.
The second stabbed from behind.
Fenrir intercepted him, knocking the blade aside.
Yozaro leapt forward.
His wooden sword glowed with mana.
CRACK!
The assassin’s wrist broke.”…Too slow.”
The leader approached calmly.
“You have talent.”
“But talent isn’t experience.”
He raised his sword.
Everything became silent.
Once again…
Yozaro found himself standing inside the mysterious cave.
The Book of Greed floated before him.
This time…
Another book trembled.
Wrath.
The dark figure appeared once more.
“Strength born from hatred fades.” Find the original chapter at g.com.
“Strength born from the desire to protect…”
“…lasts forever.”
The books closed.
The cave vanished.
Yozaro opened his eyes.
His body felt lighter.
Mana flowed smoothly through every muscle.
He didn’t become stronger.
He became…
More efficient.
The leader attacked.
Yozaro moved.
One step.
Half a turn.
His wooden sword struck the man’s elbow.
CRACK!
The arm went numb.
The sword dropped.
The leader’s eyes widened.
“…Impossible.”
Yozaro didn’t stop.
Three more precise strikes.
Shoulder.
Knee.
Chest.
The assassin collapsed unconscious.
The remaining hunters froze.
“What kind of child…”
Lyra seized the opportunity.
Silver flames erupted around her tails.
The forest exploded with light.
The surviving assassins retreated into the mountains.
That night…
Around the campfire…
Elena quietly asked,
“Who were those people?”
Rowan’s journal lay open beside Yozaro.
He stared at the drawing of the seven thrones.
“I think…”
“They weren’t after me.”
“They were after…”
“What I carry.”
Lyra remained silent.
For the first time…
She looked worried.
Very worried.
Several weeks later…
The mountains disappeared.
Before them stood a city unlike anything Yozaro had imagined.
Towering white walls stretched to the horizon.
Airships floated above the skyline.
Thousands of adventurers entered through enormous gates.
The Royal Capital.
His new life was about to begin.
But from atop one of the highest towers…
A silver-haired man watched the young boy with crimson eyes enter the city.
He smiled faintly.
“So…”
“The heir has arrived.”
He turned toward a woman wearing a black mask.
“Prepare the Academy.”
“Our future king…”
“…must survive.”