The frontline camp was louder and rougher than he imagined.
Tents everywhere.
Soldiers with missing teeth.
Weapons scattered around.
Men bragging about battles that sounded impossible.
And yet Sataro felt only excitement.
"This is where I'm meant to be," he told himself.
During training drills, he impressed everyone:
He read movements instantly.
He dodged blows before they landed.
He hit targets with unnatural accuracy.
He never wasted a step.
Some soldiers joked.
"Kid's got instincts."
"He'll be a captain in a month!"
"He's scary-talented."
Sataro laughed along with them, his confidence growing.
He wasn't afraid.
He wasn't doubtful.
He believed this was the path to honor — the path his parents would've been proud of.
The First Mission
The morning of his first battle, he woke before sunrise, adrenaline buzzing under his skin.
"Ready, kid?" one soldier grinned, handing him a steel sword.
Sataro nodded.
He had never held a real one before — but it felt right.
When the rebels charged, throwing fire and lightning across the field, Sataro didn't freeze like other new recruits.
He ran forward.
"HEY—WAIT—KID—!"
He didn't wait.
His sword cut through the air with perfect precision.
He ducked under fire spells with unnatural timing.
He moved between enemies like water flowing between rocks.
His first kill was a mage.
Then two more.
Then five.
He didn't think — he responded.
A veteran soldier watching whispered, "He's born for this…"
By nightfall, Sataro had taken down more enemies than the entire right flank combined.
He rinsed his blade in a river, watching the blood swirl away.
His hands trembled — not from fear.
From excitement.
"I did it," he whispered to himself. "I really did it."
Campaign After Campaign
Sataro was placed on mission after mission:
Mountain sieges
Mage uprisings
Forest ambushes
Night raids on rebel camps
Each time, he fought harder, smarter, faster.
And each time, he survived — while others didn't.
He became known for:
never speaking in battle
never showing fear
striking vital points every time
moving so quietly enemies didn't hear him coming
He didn't notice the stares from other soldiers.
The fear.
The awe.
He only noticed the thrill of learning, improving, becoming someone great.
The War of Ashen Vale
This was the mission that changed everything.
Hundreds of rogue mages controlled a blazing forest valley. The king's forces had lost thousands trying to reclaim it.
Sataro volunteered before his captain even finished the briefing.
"I can help," he said with a straight face.
The captain laughed. "You? Against this many?"
"Yes."
He meant it.
When the battle began, flames tore through the forest.
Explosions shook the earth.
Men fell screaming.
Sataro didn't slow.
Didn't hesitate.
He cut through clusters of mages with deadly grace:
Two fallen in one swing.
Three dropped before they could chant.
A commander defeated in a blur of sparks.
He fought for hours without tiring.
By the time the flames died and the screams faded, Sataro stood alone among a field of bodies.
His armor burned.
His blade glowing hot.
His breath steady.
"How many… did he kill?" a soldier whispered.
"No one knows…" another answered.
"But there are thousands dead."
And yet Sataro, covered in ash and blood, simply stared at the sky and whispered:
"I'm getting better."