Zelda Heinhard

Chapter One

In the town square of Balfonia, the capital of Fredendore, High Priest Nordick, one of the most renowned High Priests in the kingdom, stood before representatives from the various magic guilds gathered in the capital.

He addressed them regarding the ongoing war between Zenoa and Amala.

Zenoa, a neighboring nation of Fredendore, was located in the Eastern Mountains at the very top of the continent. Now, the kingdom had received word that Empress Neiju of Amala was on the move, searching for ancient stone tablets said to contain writings about a prophecy.

“We do not know if the prophecy is true or not,” Nordick said, “but we have to stop her from getting them, just in case it is.”

A murmur spread throughout the crowd.

“What a waste,” said Ignar Emberfare, one of Fredendore's Supreme Generals. “With all these guilds here, we can only delay Neiju's forces. We need the Golden Croaks, or even Eagle's Flames, to stand a chance.”

A man wearing a dark green cloak stood among the crowd.

“Perhaps the High Priests know this,” he said, “and are betting on the World Order to intervene.”

His voice sounded ancient.

Almost... inhuman.

Ignar scoffed.

“Pfft. The World Order is known to turn a blind eye to situations like these. I'd bet on a newborn baby beating a bear in a fight before I'd trust the World Order.”

He lit his cigar and took a puff.

Ignar glanced toward the mysterious man.

“I've never seen you around these parts before. Who are you?”

The man looked at him.

“I'm just a guy passing by.”

Before Ignar could say another word, the mysterious man disappeared.

Ignar stood there for a moment.

Then he chuckled.

“Who the hell was that?”

Meanwhile, on the opposite end of the same city, at the Heinhard Estate, the first daughter of the Heinhard family was training with her personal trainer, David.

David was a renowned trainer who had trained some of the greatest Sorcerers in Fredendore. Lionel of the Mist, one of the strongest Sorcerers alive, had been his student during his younger years.

“Feel the fire within you and direct all that heat to your hands, Zelda. Imagine that fire...”

Flames flickered across Zelda's hand.

She focused her mana and thrust her hand toward the training mannequins.

The flames shot forward.

The mannequins were sliced apart.

David stared at the remains.

“You're supposed to be burning the mannequins, Zelda.”

Zelda fell backwards and landed on her back.

“I don't have any mana left,” she muttered to herself.

David looked down at her.

“How do you lose mana so easily? You didn't even burn the mannequins,” he asked.

Zelda lifted her upper body and sat upright on the ground.

“Your mana reserve isn't small either,” David continued. “You just use a lot of it whenever you conjure fire.”

Zelda was breathing heavily.

“I'm sorry, Master,” she said. “I just don't get it. I do everything you're telling me to do, but I'm still not getting it.”

Tears began to roll down her cheeks.

Her mind went back to a family meeting she had overheard a year ago.

Her grandfather had suggested that her cousin take over the family guild until Zelda mastered Sorcery and reached B-rank.

Her father, Hilter Heinhard, had defended her.

He believed in Zelda.

He had seen how dedicated she was to mastering Sorcery, and he knew that she would become a great Sorcerer someday.

Zelda wiped the tears from her eyes.

Her resolve grew stronger.

She stood up once more and faced the training mannequins.

“I can do this.”

She raised her hand.

The flames that erupted from it were hotter than before.

David's eyes widened slightly.

Zelda thrust her hand forward.

The flames shot toward the mannequins.

But once again, they weren't burned.

They were sliced apart.

Zelda's eyes widened.

Her legs gave out beneath her.

She collapsed to the ground once again.