Four centuries ago…

  A shadow loomed over the royal palace. A lone figure, cloaked in darkness, strode through the grand halls with an air of absolute dominance. The torches lining the walls flickered, their flames shrinking as if cowering before him.

  The royal guards—renowned as the kingdom’s elite—stood frozen. Not by discipline, but by sheer, suffocating terror.

  Knights gripped their swords, but their hands trembled too violently to draw. Mages opened their mouths to chant, yet no words escaped. Even the royal family, seated upon their gilded thrones, could only watch in helpless horror.

  They did not fight him.

  They could not fight him.

  Then, without warning, the silence broke.

  A dull thud. A knight collapsed, his body unmoving. Another followed. And another. The sound of armor hitting the marble floor echoed through the chamber like a death toll.

  No blade had struck them. No spell had been cast. Yet one by one, they fell.

  Before his cold, unfeeling gaze, they were nothing—mere insects awaiting judgment.

  The suffocating silence returned, heavier than before. Then, in a voice calm yet colder than death itself, the figure spoke.

  "Pathetic. You're all far too weak."

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  The words were not shouted, yet they carried through the hall like an undeniable truth. The walls trembled. The air itself seemed to wither.

  Then, as effortlessly as he had arrived, the figure turned his back on them.

  "I will spare you… for now."

  And with that, he vanished into the darkness, leaving behind no corpses—only shattered pride, haunted minds, and a fear that would never fade.

  That night, the kingdom survived, but it was never the same. The strongest noble houses and the royal bloodline conspired to erase every trace of what had transpired. No scrolls, no records, no songs of warning.

  Only a whispered legend remained.

  Even his name was lost to time.

  The golden rays of the morning sun bathed the Mystravane Kingdom in a soft glow. Within the walls of a modest yet well-kept estate, two figures stood in an open courtyard, the clashing of wooden swords filling the air.

  "Again," Raizel commanded, stepping back effortlessly as his sister, Elviana, lunged forward.

  She was fast, but not fast enough. With a simple shift of his stance, he dodged her strike and countered with a flick of his own sword, lightly tapping her wrist.

  Elviana clicked her tongue in frustration. "Damn it! I was so close!"

  Raizel smirked, resting his practice sword on his shoulder. "If you hesitate before striking, you’ll fail the academy trial before it even starts."

  Elviana frowned, brushing her silver hair back. "You could at least be a little more supportive, you know."

  He chuckled. "I am supporting you. That’s why I’m being strict. You said you wanted to be one of the strongest women in the world, didn’t you?"

  Her golden eyes burned with determination. "Of course! I'll surpass even the royal family's strongest warriors… and protect you, my dear brother."

  For a brief moment, Raizel’s expression softened. Then, with a grin, he raised his sword again. "Big words. Let’s see if you can back them up."

  Elviana grinned, gripping her sword tightly. "When I win, you owe me a fancy dinner."

  Raizel laughed. "If you win, I’ll cook for you myself."

  With renewed energy, the two clashed once more, steel meeting steel beneath the warm morning sun.

  Elviana tightened the straps of her training armor, adjusting her sword belt with practiced ease. She took a deep breath, trying to suppress the nervous energy bubbling within her.

  Raizel leaned against the doorway, arms crossed. "Ready?"

  She nodded. "Yeah. I’m going."

  He gave a small smirk. "Be safe. And beat them all. Show those royal bastards that they’re not the only ones with power."

  Elviana’s eyes widened. "Brother, be quiet! What if someone hears you? They’d execute us on the spot!"

  Raizel only laughed. "Relax. Just go and show them what you're made of."

  Shaking her head, Elviana turned away, but she couldn't help the small smile on her lips.

  As she walked through the bustling streets toward the academy, her thoughts raced.

  Will the other students be powerful? Can I beat them? Will I pass… or will I fail?

  Her heart pounded in anticipation, but more than fear, she felt excitement. She was finally going to fight against worthy opponents. She would meet new people, make allies—maybe even rivals.

  Most importantly, she would prove herself.

  With that final thought, she stepped through the grand gates of the academy, ready to face whatever awaited her inside.