Welcome Training

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The dawn had yet to fully paint the castle towers when a dry knock on the door broke the silence of the room. Buried under the blankets, Rei barely had time to blink before a servant opened the door and peeked his head in with an almost mechanical movement.

“Pardon the intrusion, Sir Hero. It’s time to get up. General Maedros and the Three Enlightened are waiting for you in the courtyard.”

Rei sat up slowly. His muscles protested with every movement as his eyes wandered around the room. For a moment, through the fog of sleep, he thought he was back in his workshop. That he heard one of his brothers calling him to start the day. But the sea breeze slipping through the window and the servant's embroidered uniform shattered that illusion.

"So it wasn't a dream," he muttered under his breath.

His last hope that all this had been a dream was gone.

He dressed without hurry. Each gesture weighed more than just the exhaustion from yesterday's battle.

When the servant led him outside, the hallway was empty. Only his footsteps echoed. Rei barely lifted his gaze to notice the tapestries hanging on the walls. All with the same figure: Solaria, arm raised high, with the sun rising behind her.

The morning moved slowly, and the cold marble beneath his feet made him think it was far too early to be moving—let alone training. He tried to remember mornings working alongside Goro in the workshop to summon some energy, but the thought only brought a fresh ache to his stomach and a longing to return home.

In the courtyard, the scene was different. Ettor, Nessus, and Leonoris were already there, armed and ready.

“Good morning, Sir Hero!” Nessus greeted, as if trying to ease a tension that was about to build.

“You’re late,” Ettor said flatly. “This isn’t a game.”

“Calm down, Ettor. Let me handle this.”

The one who spoke wasn’t Leonoris, who seemed to be studying him intently, but a tall man with a martial bearing and piercing eyes.

“Hero. Do you know who I am?”

It was Maedros, captain of the guard. His posture was the rigid stance of someone who had spent more than half his life commanding a thousand soldiers, ready to answer the crown’s call at any moment. From the instant his eyes fell on Rei, there was no courtesy—only a calculated inspection from head to toe and a curt greeting.

Rei nodded, still reeling.

“Good. Then you’ll know that my task is to turn you into the Hero of Kounaria—specifically, to make you worthy of the title. You’ll train in every skill a soldier and leader must master: weapon handling, unarmed combat, physical endurance, discipline, and strategy. I will personally oversee your work with Ettor. I don’t tolerate excuses—least of all from the one who is meant to protect us. Understood?”

…What did he say?

Rei could only nod again. He felt dazed—probably worse than that.

“Alright,” Ettor cut in, ending the moment. “Let’s get to why you’re here.”

Rei barely had time to react before a wooden sword was tossed into his hands.

“First, the weapon.” Ettor stepped forward. “You’ll learn to wield it with precision, but that won’t be all. You’ll fight hand-to-hand and train every muscle until it can bear the weight of the armor and the duty you carry.”

His tone allowed no argument.

“You must learn every sacred technique and become the greatest warrior Kounaria has ever seen. Because if you don’t… you won’t live long enough to try again.”

“I underst—”

Thwack.

The first training blow came without warning. With a swift motion, Ettor slammed the wooden sword into Rei’s forearm, forcing him to stumble back. Rei let out a pained grunt.

“Hey!”

“Let’s see what you’re made of,” ordered the Enlightened, giving him no time to breathe.

Rei tried to readjust his grip. But Ettor was already on him. Landed a second strike to his side and forced him to twist to keep from falling. The third blow came for his leg. He barely managed to block it. The rhythm was relentless—every time he tried to steady himself, another strike knocked him off balance.

And so it went on. The blows were harder than necessary. The exercises longer than his body could take. No pause for water. No words of encouragement. Ettor made no effort to hide his disdain, and each movement seemed driven by more than simple rigor—it was anger.

At his side, Maedros watched almost without changing expression, arms crossed and gaze cold. Nessus, meanwhile, looked concerned, and Leonoris was nearly horrified.

“Hey!” she called out, worried. “How can you hit him like that on the first day of training?”

“He hasn’t even taught him a single technique, and he’s already hitting him like that,” Nessus replied. “Typical Ettor.”

“Nessus, shouldn’t we do something?”

Leonoris turned to her brother, searching for support to stop Ettor—something she knew she wouldn’t find in Maedros. But Nessus kept watching calmly.

“You know how Ettor is. It’s something he feels he needs to do—and maybe after this, he’ll calm down.” Only then did he glance her way. “Looks like you’ll have a lot of work ahead with this Hero, little sister.”

The answer didn’t satisfy Leonoris, but she knew there wasn’t much more she could do. All that was left was to keep witnessing the beating and hope Solaria’s plans weren’t mistaken.

Thwack.

Thwack.

Thwack.

Rei had lost count of how many times he’d hit the ground that morning. The sun climbed too slowly, and the blows came too quickly. Each fall made him heavier, his breathing shorter. Sweat blurred his vision, and a persistent ringing filled his ears.

In a brief pause, Rei saw him up close. Ettor was breathing hard, brow furrowed, and in his eyes was a spark of pure frustration. Rei understood perfectly.

The problem was that he was the Hero, and not someone else.

He looked away and found Maedros’ gaze—steady, cold, unyielding. Beside him, Nessus watched silently, and Leonoris kept her eyes down, holding back the pain the scene caused her. Drenched in sweat, arms burning, Rei took those looks as disappointment.

They already think I’m worthless. No one’s going to believe in someone humiliated by pirates like that, he thought bitterly.

Ettor gave him no chance to dwell on it. He called him to the center of the courtyard with a tilt of his head, just as Maedros stepped closer, watching his slow walk with clear discontent.

“General,” was all Ettor said.

The man fixed him with a stare, as if gauging whether anything inside him justified the title he carried.

“You’re weak,” he stated, while Rei could barely remain standing. “You can’t block even the slowest strikes, and you lack the will to get back up quickly. It’s not just your body—it’s your spirit that’s faltering. We have a lot of work ahead of us.” And with that, he turned and left.

Each word felt like another weight added to Rei’s back. And the worst part was that he couldn’t even argue. Everything they said was true.

“I should’ve hit you harder.”

Rei froze at the remark. Maybe, at another time, he would have exploded in anger—but now he didn’t even have the strength to be angry.

“Ettor, that’s enough!” Leonoris shouted.

Ettor looked at his sister in annoyance, not liking being told what to do. He let out a short sigh and turned his gaze back to Rei.

“Prove your worth, Hero. If you want anyone here to recognize you as the Hero of Kounaria, you’ll have to earn it.”

Slowly, Ettor began to walk away. Nessus and Leonoris could only watch him go, unable to chastise him for his behavior.

“Rei!”

Leonoris tried to approach him to ask something, but he kept staring, frozen, at the sword in his trembling hands. That phrase…

“Rei!”

The touch of Leonoris’ hands on his shoulders—and the life in those emerald eyes trying to reach him—pulled him back to reality.

“Come on, I’ll heal you again.”

He could only nod, following the girl, though he felt that every pair of eyes was judging him. And deep inside, the cold certainty that he would not be able to meet their expectations began to threaten the flame of his spirit.