Chapter 28:
A Young Soldier
The Conqueror
Chapter 28 – A Young Soldier
Shinra hovered above the battlefield, ghostlike, weightless, unseen.
His eyes darted across the scene, tracing every motion, every flicker of mana.
The world before him had shifted—no longer the quiet, cold halls of the past, but a sprawling arena filled with the clash of steel and the roar of elemental power.
Below him, a young boy of fourteen moved with uncanny precision, muscles tensed like coiled springs.
His black hair flickered in the sunlight as He swung his sword, not with magic, but with pure, raw power.
Every movement was confident, every strike decisive. He was Hiroshi—Shinra's father, before the burdens of adulthood weighed him down.
"Hiroshi! Hiroshi!"
The crowd's cheer rose in a thunderous wave, echoing off the arena walls.
Even the masters of the guild watched with keen interest, impressed by the boy's mastery.His opponent lunged, reckless with desperation, but Hiroshi sidestepped with grace, slashing back in a deadly arc.
The clang of metal rang out as the boy's sword struck again and again, each blow precise, each movement a statement: he would not yield.Shinra's ghostly eyes widened.
"He's… incredible," he whispered.
The boy wasn't just fighting; he was commanding the battlefield, predicting every move, dominating without mana, only sheer skill and strength.
Finally, with a swift spin and a strike that cut through the air, Hiroshi sent his opponent sprawling to the ground.
Silence fell for a heartbeat—then the arena erupted in applause and cheer.
Hiroshi stood tall, chest heaving slightly, eyes shining with both pride and hunger for challenge.
Shinra's gaze drifted upward.
In the audience, a young man with sharp features and an unreadable expression watched intently.
His dark hair gleamed under the sun, his cloak marking him as someone of influence. That was Mark, already a young master of the Celestial Aegis Guild.The match ended, and Hiroshi was summoned to the guild immediately.
The crowd parted as he walked toward the stone steps, the young master's gaze fixed on him.
Mark's voice rang clear and commanding:
"You have potential, Hiroshi.
From this day, you serve the guild—not as a student, but as one of our own.
Follow orders, train hard, and you will become a warrior this world cannot ignore."
Hiroshi nodded, determination etched into every line of his face.
Shinra watched silently, realizing this was the moment Hiroshi's destiny as a soldier truly began.
Days blurred into months.
The young boy trained under Lucus and We, learning strategy, discipline, and teamwork.
He bore the weight of responsibility with ease, each swing of his sword sharpening not just skill, but resolve.
The first battle came swiftly. Wisdom—a distant province under siege—called for guild forces.
Hiroshi, now stronger, faster, and more deadly, stepped onto the battlefield.
Swords clashed and shields rang, but Hiroshi moved like a force of nature.
His blade danced in the sun, precise and punishing, slicing through the ranks of enemies with power that left his comrades in awe.
At the center stood Hiroshi, a boy of fourteen, young but radiating force and confidence far beyond his age.
His eyes sharp, unyielding.
A sword rested in his hands, and he moved as though the air itself bent to his will.
Mana surged around him, flowing through his blade in ribbons of wind and sparks of lightning.
Each swing tore through the air like a blade cutting reality.
Opposite him, Vice Admiral Steve raised his hands, his gaze focused and calculating.
The earth trembled beneath his command. Stones lifted, forming jagged walls around Hiroshi, enclosing him in a prison of rock.
Roots shot up from the ground, twisting and coiling, attempting to bind the boy's feet.
Seeds burst like bullets, flying toward Hiroshi with deadly speed.
Hiroshi's eyes narrowed.
He leapt high, twisting midair as lightning streaked along his sword.
Wind gusts shredded the incoming seeds, slicing them apart, while his blade cleaved through the roots and stone alike.
A shockwave exploded from the strike, scattering dust and debris across the arena.
Steve's walls trembled but refused to yield, forcing Hiroshi into a dance of power and precision—an elegant, lethal performance.
Steve roared, planting his feet firmly.
"You won't escape!" he bellowed, stomping the ground to summon pillars of stone.
Hiroshi flipped and rolled, the wind carrying him over the barriers.
His blade clashed with the stone pillars, sparks and lightning cascading from each impact.
Steve lunged forward, twisting his body, using earth and roots to force Hiroshi into a corner.
The arena walls shuddered as the Vice Admiral unleashed a flurry of earth and mana-infused attacks.
Hiroshi countered, slicing through the attacks, wind and lightning weaving together around his blade.The two clashed repeatedly, sword against stone, wind against earth, sparks flying like fireflies.
Hiroshi's speed and precision were unmatched, but Steve's endurance and cunning made him a formidable opponent.
Every strike from Hiroshi carried raw elemental fury, yet Steve anticipated, blocked, and countered with crushing blows, trying to trap the boy in his domain.
Hiroshi growled, fury igniting within him.
"Enough games!" His sword flared, lightning arcing across the blade.
Wind spiraled, carrying shards of earth from Steve's walls like missiles.
Hiroshi's eyes blazed.
With a sudden burst, he sliced through the remaining barriers, his blade moving like a storm unleashed.
Steve tried to brace, forming a wall of stone just in time—but Hiroshi's sword slammed through it, cleaving the rock and the Vice Admiral's defenses.The final strike came without hesitation.
Lightning and wind entwined, spiraling into a deadly lance that pierced Steve's chest.
He stumbled, blood streaking his lips, his mana fading.
Hiroshi's sword cut with absolute precision and power. Steve crumpled to the ground, defeated.
Shinra's chest tightened.
His hands shook as he clenched them into fists, knuckles whitening.
The weight of witnessing his father's ruthlessness, even at fourteen, struck him like a hammer.
Hiroshi's rage, his power, the raw clarity of his actions—Shinra felt every strike echo through his own chest.
"He… killed him," he breathed, trembling.
But the battlefield's chaos was far from over. From the sky, the ground shuddered violently.
A figure descended, massive and unstoppable—King Arthur of Senestia.
Flames licked from his hands, freezing winds roared, and the air itself seemed to warp under the force of his mana.
Soldiers screamed, some frozen solid, others scorched by fire, while debris and splintered wood rained down across the arena.
Hiroshi's eyes narrowed, his grip tightening on his sword.
Lightning danced across the blade as he leapt into the air, propelled by wind currents infused with mana.
He moved with deadly grace, dodging shards of ice and fire.
Every swing of his sword clove through obstacles, every step a calculated counter to Arthur's destructive force.The king unleashed a devastating spell, a flame-tinged windstorm infused with freezing mana.
It tore across the battlefield, scattering soldiers and leveling everything in its path.
Hiroshi dodged, using his own mana to summon gusts that diverted shards of ice and flame.
Sparks flew, earth cracked, and the arena became a storm of clashing power.
Shinra's heart raced. "He… he's going to—wait, the fight's not over! Let me see! I have to see it!" he shouted into the void, desperate, but his voice echoed without answer.
Arthur's attacks grew more ferocious, crushing everything around him.
The ground split open, flames licked high, and shards of ice pierced the air.
Soldiers and fighters scattered, some frozen mid-step, others trapped beneath collapsing walls of debris.
Hiroshi ducked under a falling pillar, rolling and swinging his sword in a deadly arc.
Lightning struck, wind gusts carried him forward, and he met the king head-on with unflinching resolve.
The clash was cataclysmic.
Mana collided with mana, swords clashed with raw elemental fury, the air igniting around each strike.
Hiroshi's precision and rage merged, a dance of wind and lightning that cut through Arthur's assault, deflecting ice and flame alike.
The young soldier's focus was unyielding, every swing calculated, every movement flowing like water yet sharp as blades.
Shinra gritted his teeth. "I… I want to see it! I need to know how it ends!" His chest tightened, lungs burning, yet the void held him, a ghost unable to intervene, merely witnessing.
The same deep, layered voice from before echoed through the darkness.
"You are not strong enough to witness this battle."
The battlefield, Hiroshi, Arthur—everything collapsed.
The clashing elements, the sparks, the cries of soldiers—all vanished into the void.
Darkness swallowed everything.
Shinra floated alone, chest heaving, hands trembling.
Every nerve screamed with longing and frustration.
He pressed his palms to his eyes, trying to push past the black, trying to force himself to see more.
But the void remained, silent, oppressive, and unyielding.
Only black.
Shinra hovered above the battlefield, ghostlike, weightless, unseen.
His eyes darted across the scene, tracing every motion, every flicker of mana.
The world before him had shifted—no longer the quiet, cold halls of the past, but a sprawling arena filled with the clash of steel and the roar of elemental power.
Below him, a young boy of fourteen moved with uncanny precision, muscles tensed like coiled springs.
His black hair flickered in the sunlight as He swung his sword, not with magic, but with pure, raw power.
Every movement was confident, every strike decisive. He was Hiroshi—Shinra's father, before the burdens of adulthood weighed him down.
"Hiroshi! Hiroshi!"
The crowd's cheer rose in a thunderous wave, echoing off the arena walls.
Even the masters of the guild watched with keen interest, impressed by the boy's mastery.His opponent lunged, reckless with desperation, but Hiroshi sidestepped with grace, slashing back in a deadly arc.
The clang of metal rang out as the boy's sword struck again and again, each blow precise, each movement a statement: he would not yield.Shinra's ghostly eyes widened.
"He's… incredible," he whispered.
The boy wasn't just fighting; he was commanding the battlefield, predicting every move, dominating without mana, only sheer skill and strength.
Finally, with a swift spin and a strike that cut through the air, Hiroshi sent his opponent sprawling to the ground.
Silence fell for a heartbeat—then the arena erupted in applause and cheer.
Hiroshi stood tall, chest heaving slightly, eyes shining with both pride and hunger for challenge.
Shinra's gaze drifted upward.
In the audience, a young man with sharp features and an unreadable expression watched intently.
His dark hair gleamed under the sun, his cloak marking him as someone of influence. That was Mark, already a young master of the Celestial Aegis Guild.The match ended, and Hiroshi was summoned to the guild immediately.
The crowd parted as he walked toward the stone steps, the young master's gaze fixed on him.
Mark's voice rang clear and commanding:
"You have potential, Hiroshi.
From this day, you serve the guild—not as a student, but as one of our own.
Follow orders, train hard, and you will become a warrior this world cannot ignore."
Hiroshi nodded, determination etched into every line of his face.
Shinra watched silently, realizing this was the moment Hiroshi's destiny as a soldier truly began.
Days blurred into months.
The young boy trained under Lucus and We, learning strategy, discipline, and teamwork.
He bore the weight of responsibility with ease, each swing of his sword sharpening not just skill, but resolve.
The first battle came swiftly. Wisdom—a distant province under siege—called for guild forces.
Hiroshi, now stronger, faster, and more deadly, stepped onto the battlefield.
Swords clashed and shields rang, but Hiroshi moved like a force of nature.
His blade danced in the sun, precise and punishing, slicing through the ranks of enemies with power that left his comrades in awe.
At the center stood Hiroshi, a boy of fourteen, young but radiating force and confidence far beyond his age.
His eyes sharp, unyielding.
A sword rested in his hands, and he moved as though the air itself bent to his will.
Mana surged around him, flowing through his blade in ribbons of wind and sparks of lightning.
Each swing tore through the air like a blade cutting reality.
Opposite him, Vice Admiral Steve raised his hands, his gaze focused and calculating.
The earth trembled beneath his command. Stones lifted, forming jagged walls around Hiroshi, enclosing him in a prison of rock.
Roots shot up from the ground, twisting and coiling, attempting to bind the boy's feet.
Seeds burst like bullets, flying toward Hiroshi with deadly speed.
Hiroshi's eyes narrowed.
He leapt high, twisting midair as lightning streaked along his sword.
Wind gusts shredded the incoming seeds, slicing them apart, while his blade cleaved through the roots and stone alike.
A shockwave exploded from the strike, scattering dust and debris across the arena.
Steve's walls trembled but refused to yield, forcing Hiroshi into a dance of power and precision—an elegant, lethal performance.
Steve roared, planting his feet firmly.
"You won't escape!" he bellowed, stomping the ground to summon pillars of stone.
Hiroshi flipped and rolled, the wind carrying him over the barriers.
His blade clashed with the stone pillars, sparks and lightning cascading from each impact.
Steve lunged forward, twisting his body, using earth and roots to force Hiroshi into a corner.
The arena walls shuddered as the Vice Admiral unleashed a flurry of earth and mana-infused attacks.
Hiroshi countered, slicing through the attacks, wind and lightning weaving together around his blade.The two clashed repeatedly, sword against stone, wind against earth, sparks flying like fireflies.
Hiroshi's speed and precision were unmatched, but Steve's endurance and cunning made him a formidable opponent.
Every strike from Hiroshi carried raw elemental fury, yet Steve anticipated, blocked, and countered with crushing blows, trying to trap the boy in his domain.
Hiroshi growled, fury igniting within him.
"Enough games!" His sword flared, lightning arcing across the blade.
Wind spiraled, carrying shards of earth from Steve's walls like missiles.
Hiroshi's eyes blazed.
With a sudden burst, he sliced through the remaining barriers, his blade moving like a storm unleashed.
Steve tried to brace, forming a wall of stone just in time—but Hiroshi's sword slammed through it, cleaving the rock and the Vice Admiral's defenses.The final strike came without hesitation.
Lightning and wind entwined, spiraling into a deadly lance that pierced Steve's chest.
He stumbled, blood streaking his lips, his mana fading.
Hiroshi's sword cut with absolute precision and power. Steve crumpled to the ground, defeated.
Shinra's chest tightened.
His hands shook as he clenched them into fists, knuckles whitening.
The weight of witnessing his father's ruthlessness, even at fourteen, struck him like a hammer.
Hiroshi's rage, his power, the raw clarity of his actions—Shinra felt every strike echo through his own chest.
"He… killed him," he breathed, trembling.
But the battlefield's chaos was far from over. From the sky, the ground shuddered violently.
A figure descended, massive and unstoppable—King Arthur of Senestia.
Flames licked from his hands, freezing winds roared, and the air itself seemed to warp under the force of his mana.
Soldiers screamed, some frozen solid, others scorched by fire, while debris and splintered wood rained down across the arena.
Hiroshi's eyes narrowed, his grip tightening on his sword.
Lightning danced across the blade as he leapt into the air, propelled by wind currents infused with mana.
He moved with deadly grace, dodging shards of ice and fire.
Every swing of his sword clove through obstacles, every step a calculated counter to Arthur's destructive force.The king unleashed a devastating spell, a flame-tinged windstorm infused with freezing mana.
It tore across the battlefield, scattering soldiers and leveling everything in its path.
Hiroshi dodged, using his own mana to summon gusts that diverted shards of ice and flame.
Sparks flew, earth cracked, and the arena became a storm of clashing power.
Shinra's heart raced. "He… he's going to—wait, the fight's not over! Let me see! I have to see it!" he shouted into the void, desperate, but his voice echoed without answer.
Arthur's attacks grew more ferocious, crushing everything around him.
The ground split open, flames licked high, and shards of ice pierced the air.
Soldiers and fighters scattered, some frozen mid-step, others trapped beneath collapsing walls of debris.
Hiroshi ducked under a falling pillar, rolling and swinging his sword in a deadly arc.
Lightning struck, wind gusts carried him forward, and he met the king head-on with unflinching resolve.
The clash was cataclysmic.
Mana collided with mana, swords clashed with raw elemental fury, the air igniting around each strike.
Hiroshi's precision and rage merged, a dance of wind and lightning that cut through Arthur's assault, deflecting ice and flame alike.
The young soldier's focus was unyielding, every swing calculated, every movement flowing like water yet sharp as blades.
Shinra gritted his teeth. "I… I want to see it! I need to know how it ends!" His chest tightened, lungs burning, yet the void held him, a ghost unable to intervene, merely witnessing.
The same deep, layered voice from before echoed through the darkness.
"You are not strong enough to witness this battle."
The battlefield, Hiroshi, Arthur—everything collapsed.
The clashing elements, the sparks, the cries of soldiers—all vanished into the void.
Darkness swallowed everything.
Shinra floated alone, chest heaving, hands trembling.
Every nerve screamed with longing and frustration.
He pressed his palms to his eyes, trying to push past the black, trying to force himself to see more.
But the void remained, silent, oppressive, and unyielding.
Only black.
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