27 years ago…
A newborn's cry echoed through the royal chamber, raw and fragile yet full of life. Wrapped in soft silk, the infant squirmed weakly in the arms of a beautiful queen. Her long, flowing blue hair shimmered in the candlelight, her face weary but radiant with relief.
The room was hushed with awe. Maids and doctors bowed their heads, tears brimming in their eyes at the miracle before them.
Then, hurried footsteps thundered through the corridor. The heavy doors burst open, and a tall man strode in, armor clinking faintly with each step. His sharp, mature features carried both strength and worry, but the moment his eyes found the queen and the child in her arms, all else faded.
"Y-your Majesty!"
One of the maids whispered reverently.
He rushed forward, his stern composure cracking as he dropped to his knees beside the queen's bed. Leaning closer, he gazed upon the child, his son. His hands trembled, and tears welled in his eyes as the queen smiled warmly at him, exhaustion softening her features.
"Welcome home, Leroy Monroe."
The king whispered, his voice breaking as tears finally spilled down his cheeks, and the queen adjusted the baby gently so that the king could see him better. Together, they looked down at their child with smiles full of hope and love.
7 years later…
The kingdom thrived. Under the King's strong hand and the Queen's gentle guidance, the people prospered, and laughter often echoed through the streets.
Within the castle walls, Leroy grew up in a loving family. His mother nurtured him with patience, teaching him history, language, and the lessons of rulers past. His father, meanwhile, stood as a symbol of strength, beloved and trusted by his people, a leader whose loyalty was unmatched. To young Leroy, life was nothing short of dazzling.
One summer afternoon, while chasing a butterfly across the training yard, he froze, and his eyes widened in awe.
Before him stood his father, clad in light training armor. He wielded a massive greatsword, yet he swung it as though it weighed nothing. Each arc cut through the air with perfect form, the rhythm of a warrior who had weathered countless battles. The blade gleamed, catching the sunlight as it sang through the air.
"Woooah…"
Leroy whispered, his tiny fists clenching with excitement.
"Hm?"
The King paused mid-swing, noticing his son's wide-eyed stare. He chuckled softly, his stern features melting into a smile.
"Dad! How do you do all that so fast!? That was so cool!"
Leroy dashed closer, his voice bursting with awe. The King knelt, resting the sword's flat edge gently against the ground. He looked at his son, not as a king, but as a father with warmth in his eyes.
"Hahaha, these techniques have been trained by a man throughout his whole life. As what we call—Swordsman."
"Swordsman?"
Leroy tilted his head.
The word lingered in his mind, glowing like a spark. His young heart swelled with determination. He clenched his small fists and puffed out his chest.
"I want to be a swordsman just like you, Dad!"
The King laughed again, but this time there was a flicker of something else in his eyes. An unspoken burden, a quiet shadow of doubt. His smile remained for Leroy's sake, but deep inside, he thought to himself:
"Would my strength be enough to protect the kingdom from what is coming?"
On that day, a boy's dream was born, fueled by admiration sealed by promise as the king rested a hand on Leroy's shoulder.
"Come, there's someone I'd like you to meet."
They walked across the castle grounds, out toward a vast stretch of green fields where the wind danced through the grass. The air was filled with the sharp sound of wooden swords clashing.
Leroy's eyes lit up. He tugged at his father's cloak.
"What's that sound?"
"You'll see."
The king replied with a faint smile.
As they drew closer, the sight before them made Leroy's jaw drop. A young woman with long crimson hair, tied neatly behind her, stood poised and steady, blocking a series of strikes from a smaller opponent. Her movements were graceful, precise, and every parry looked effortless, as though she already knew where the next blow would land.
Her eyes shone with calm confidence, and even when pushed back, her stance never wavered.
The one attacking her, a boy not much older than Leroy, was striking with all his might, yet she deflected every blow with just a twist of her wrist and a turn of her wooden sword.
"Woooah…"
Leroy whispered, completely mesmerized. The duel halted when the king's deep voice carried across the field.
"Good afternoon, Miss Miyaki."
The red-haired woman lowered her sword, turning with a smile of mild surprise.
"Oh? Your Majesty."
She said, bowing slightly, her tone both respectful and teasing,
"It's rare to see you out here."
She glanced toward Leroy, her gaze softening with curiosity.
"And you've brought someone with you today."
"Son, this is our most talented swordsman. The Red-Haired Samurai, Miyaki. She is also one of our finest trainers."
The king spoke with pride, resting a hand on Leroy's head, and the boy's eyes widened, sparkling with awe. Miyaki stood with her wooden blade in hand, her posture straight and unshaken, her presence radiating quiet confidence. To young Leroy, she seemed like a hero from the stories his mother read him at night.
Miyaki's lips curved into a faint smirk when their eyes met, as if she could already see the fire within him. The king straightened, his tone shifting to one of gentle warning.
"Leroy, training under her will not be easy. Are you truly prepared for what it means to walk this path?"
The field grew silent, the air heavy with expectation. Leroy clenched his small fists, his heart racing. Then, with the certainty only a child's pure dream could hold, he answered without hesitation.
"Yes, Dad! I'll become the greatest swordsman, strong enough to protect everyone!"
For a moment, the King was quiet. Then his stern expression melted into a proud, almost bittersweet smile. He patted his son's shoulder firmly, as though passing down an unspoken blessing.
"You've grown quickly, son."
Miyaki's smirk deepened. Her crimson hair swayed in the breeze as she rested her wooden sword against her shoulder.
"Hmph, bold words for a little one, huh? Let's see if your actions match your fire, lil' Prince."
As the King gave one last smile and a firm pat on his son's shoulder, he turned and walked back toward the castle, leaving Leroy standing in the wide field with Miyaki. The red-haired swordswoman stepped closer, her wooden blade casually resting on her shoulder. Her amber eyes narrowed with interest as she tilted her head.
"Leroy Monroe, right?"
She asked, her smirk playful but edged with challenge.
"Yes!"
Leroy replied quickly, his small hands clenched with determination.
"Well then..."
Miyaki said, lowering her blade with a sharp thunk against the earth,
"...Get ready. I won't go easy on you, even if you're His Majesty's son."
Her words, paired with that confident smirk, sent a nervous shiver through Leroy's spine. But he nodded firmly, standing tall despite the knot of anxiety in his chest.
Moments later…
The training began, and it wasn't even a match.
Miyaki's movements were sharp, disciplined, and far too fast for the boy to follow. Every swing of his wooden sword was effortlessly parried, every step forward countered with a sweep of her weapon. Within minutes, the young prince found himself tumbling across the grass, panting hard as his arms trembled from the strain of holding his blade.
Finally, Miyaki disarmed him with a flick of her wrist, sending his wooden sword spinning out of his grip. Leroy collapsed to the ground, his chest heaving, face flushed red from both exhaustion and frustration.
"Haah… haah…"
Leroy gasped, staring at the sky as the world spun around him. Miyaki stood over him, casting a long shadow across his small form. Her smirk remained, but there was a glint of respect in her eyes.
"Not bad."
She said lightly, planting the tip of her wooden blade into the soil beside him.
"You didn't run. Most kids your age would've cried already."
Her words stung, but also lit something deeper in Leroy's chest.
"I'll… get stronger."
He wheezed out between heavy breaths.
"One day… I'll beat you."
For the first time, Miyaki started laughing as she extended her hand to him.
"Great spirit. Now go on, rest with the others. We'll move on to the next soon."
Miyaki's smirk lingered for a moment longer before she turned away, stretching her arms as she made her way toward the shade of a nearby pavilion for a tea break.
Leroy, still sprawled on the grass, groaned as he tried to sit up. His arms wobbled, and just when he thought he might collapse again, a hand appeared in front of him.
"You did great."
The voice was calm, steady, neither cruel nor overly kind. Leroy blinked and saw a boy about his age, with black wavy hair and round glasses, offering his hand. His expression was calm, serious, almost unreadable.
"Thanks…"
Leroy muttered, grasping the hand and pulling himself up. As he steadied himself, he noticed three other children standing behind the boy, watching him with bright, curious eyes.
"We all saw you fight Miyaki-sensei from the corner."
The glasses boy continued, his lips curling into the faintest smile. Before Leroy could reply, a sudden blur of energy dashed forward.
"Yo! The name's Raykar Varlmore!"
Shouted an energetic boy with wild, spiky reddish-blonde hair, grinning from ear to ear as if Leroy were already his best friend.
"E-ehm… I'm Leyla Moonveil."
Added a shy girl, her soft voice barely above a whisper. Her dark-blue hair framed her face as she tucked a strand nervously behind her ear, offering a gentle smile and a small wave.
"You're still pretty awkward with new people, huh? Leyla."
The one who teased her was a tall girl with long, side-swept bangs, silver hair, and her demeanor was calm and graceful. She smiled warmly at Leroy.
"I'm Rosslin Valen."
Finally, the boy with glasses adjusted them slightly and introduced himself properly.
"…and my name is Kylen Forst."
He extended his hand again, this time firmly, his composure unwavering.
For a moment, Leroy's chest tightened. He wasn't sure if it was exhaustion or the sudden rush of excitement from seeing these new faces as warmth spread in his heart. For the first time that day, he felt like he wasn't alone.
"I'm Leroy Monroe! Nice to meet you all!"
With a wide smile, he clasped Kylen's hand.
"Nice to meet you, Prince Leroy."
Rosslin added with a gentle smile.
"Oh, no need to be formal. Just call me Leroy. It's alright."
Leroy's cheeks flushed.
"Well then… Leroy."
Kylen said, smiling softly this time as their handshake ended. The four of them nodded together, their gazes warm and welcoming. At that moment, Leroy felt it. This was the beginning of something more than just training, as the beginning of a friendship.
"Say, how old are you, Leroy?"
Raykar leaned forward, eyes sparkling with curiosity and that same uncontainable excitement from before.
"Seven."
Leroy answered simply.
"Hah! I'm still the oldest around here!"
"...?"
Leroy tilted his head in confusion.
"Well, because I'm one year older than you! Hahaha!"
Raykar puffed out his chest with a wide grin.
"Really, Raykar?"
Kylen adjusted his glasses, his calm tone slicing right through Raykar's boasting.
"What? It's true! Look, Leroy's seven, you're seven, Rosslin's the same age as me, and not to forget—"
Raykar suddenly spun around and pointed dramatically.
"The youngest one, Leyla! Six!"
"H-hey!"
Leyla pouted, flustered, her cheeks turning a shade of pink, and Rosslin let out a soft chuckle, brushing her blonde hair back over her shoulder.
"Honestly, Raykar, do you always have to make things into a competition?"
"Of course! What's fun without a little rivalry?"
Raykar replied proudly, hands on his hips. Leroy blinked at the group, his lips curving into a small, genuine smile. He felt that he had finally found a place where he belonged.
"Hey, kids! Break time's over. Everyone, stand in line!"
Miyaki's voice suddenly cut across the field, firm yet carrying that teasing lilt she always had.
"Yes, Sensei!"
They all chorused, almost stumbling over each other as they scrambled to form a line, and the next training began.
"Alright, you four show me what you've got. Let's give our new kid, Leroy, a proper look at your skills."
Miyaki clapped her hands together, her voice ringing out with confidence. The others straightened immediately, and Leroy's eyes widened with curiosity. The time had come to unveil their true, hidden power.