Night had fallen, blanketing the world in a quiet stillness. The moon cast a gentle, silvery glow over a tranquil pond at the edge of the city, where ripples danced across the water's surface with every passing breeze. Senko approached in silence, the cool night air brushing against his skin. In his hand was the sword—plain, unmarked, and seemingly ordinary. Yet, despite its humble appearance, it pulsed with an energy that made it feel heavier than it looked. A quiet power lingered beneath the surface, whispering to him. Senko knelt beside the pond, gazing at his distorted reflection. His eyes, especially the purple one, shimmered strangely in the moonlight. The sword rested in his lap, radiating a subtle warmth. He gripped the hilt, feeling something awaken within him. Still, there was hesitation—like a locked door in his heart he couldn't yet open. "When I hold this sword… I feel power. A power I've never known before," Senko muttered to himself. He rose to his feet, eyes determined. "I need to train. I need to prove who I really am!" I He began running through a series of sword exercises, movements he had crafted himself in lonely nights like this one. He swung, lunged, and pivoted. Between drills, he dropped to the ground for push-ups, pull-ups on nearby tree limbs, and sets of jumping jacks. His body ached, but he pushed through the pain. This was his chance. His way of breaking free from the ridicule, the scornful looks, the whispers. He hated how people saw him—as a monster, a curse, a freak. He didn't know why they looked at him like that, but deep down, he feared it had something to do with his parents… or perhaps the demon sealed within his eye. "I want to know the truth," he whispered, collapsing to the ground, gasping for breath. "I… I have to… get up." He forced himself back on his feet. Unbeknownst to him, Master Hornstein was hidden behind a nearby tree, silently observing. His golden boots barely made a sound—until one stepped on a dry twig, the snap echoing faintly through the trees. He narrowed his eyes. "So… you already gave him the sword, Headmaster. Isn't it a little early?" he whispered to himself. His expression softened as he watched Senko continue his grueling practice. "He just wants to be accepted. I'm sorry, Senko… but you can't know the truth. Not yet." Hornstein vanished into the shadows, leaving Senko alone under the moon's glow. For four straight hours, Senko trained—pushing himself far beyond his limits. With only three hours left until morning, Senko finally returned to his small apartment. His clothes were soaked with sweat, and every muscle in his body burned. He collapsed onto his bed, the sword placed carefully beside him. As sleep took him, the blade glowed faintly red from within its scabbard, casting light across the room. Senko murmured softly, lost in dreams. "I will become the Warrior King… I will…"
Three hours later…
Senko's eyes cracked open. They were baggy and bloodshot. "It's already time? I just fell asleep…" he groaned, sitting up and rubbing his face. Dragging himself to the bathroom, he brushed his teeth and stared at himself in the mirror. His purple eye glowed faintly in the dim light. "I'm a freak…" he whispered. It was always the same. The stares. The fear. The judgment. The eye wasn't normal—it marked him as different, and people treated him like something dangerous. Maybe even evil. He pulled on his White Fang house uniform, sighing in frustration. "Man… of all the houses, why White Fang?" He slung his bag over one shoulder, sword in hand, and left his apartment. The streets were just beginning to come alive when a familiar voice called out from behind.
"Hey, Senko!" Senko turned to see Leon jogging up. "Oh, it's you." Leon's eyes lit up when he saw the sword. "Whoa! You got a sword now? It looks so basic… but somehow unique at the same time." Senko glanced at the blade. "Yeah… and when I hold it, I feel something. Something I've never felt before." Leon grinned. "Cool! Maybe it's some kind of rare power blade or something." "I doubt those exist," Senko said flatly. "You never know," Leon shrugged. "I mean, look at the Warrior King's sword—it's one of a kind. Speaking of which… there he is." A grand carriage rolled down the street, drawn by armored horses. Inside sat the Warrior King himself—Koya the Great—and his son, Ibaal. As they passed, the citizens bowed in reverence. Leon's face was full of admiration.
"He's so cool," Leon whispered. But Senko didn't bow. He stood firm, eyes locked on the carriage. "He gives me the same look everyone else does," Senko said coldly. "But I'm going to become stronger than him." Leon tilted his head. "The look? You mean how people see you like… a freak?" Senko didn't respond immediately. He stopped walking. "Sometimes I wonder… why me? Why was I born this way? I've never had friends. Never had someone to look up to." Leon looked at him, expression softening. "I'm sorry you feel that way, Senko. I really am. But… I know we only met yesterday, and maybe it's weird, but… if you're okay with it, I'd like to be your friend." Senko looked up, eyes wide. Tears began to fall down his cheeks. "I… I've never felt this before," he said, wiping his eyes. "I'd love to be friends." Leon smiled warmly. Inside the carriage, Warrior King Koya was staring at Senko—and more specifically, at the sword he held. His face went pale. "H-How?" Koya whispered. Ibaal looked at his father. "Is something wrong?" Koya leaned back in his seat. "No… nothing at all." But his mind was racing.
That sword… it can't be. That devil of a blade—it was his father's. He shouldn't have that. I should've killed that boy when I had the chance. But I'm the Warrior King… I must protect this city. If that boy ever loses control…
Koya clenched his fist. There were six Mythical Swords in all the lands—swords of immense power. Senko now held one of them. The last known sword, once belonging to the former Warrior King. The other five were scattered or lost. Not even Koya himself had one. That sword… should've been mine, Koya thought bitterly. Ibaal said nothing, but he could sense his father's unease.
World Lore - The Warrior System:
Academy Duration: 4 years (ages 14–18)
Rank Progression: D → C → B → A → (very rarely) S
House System:
White Fang
Dark Crimson
Spark Guardians
Wit Violets
Each house has a Master.
During missions, teams consist of one member from each house.
Total student count:
300 D-Ranks
290 C-Ranks
200 B-Ranks
100 A-Ranks
3 S-Ranks
Total: 593 warriors
The Three Lands:
The Land of Joy (home of the capital, Jenkiora)
The Land of Happiness
The Land of Serenity (previously repeated; renamed for uniqueness)
Jenkiora, the capital of the Land of Joy, is the largest city in all three lands. It is where the Warrior King and royal family reside. Even the national government bows to their authority. Across the lands, warriors of all calibers train and rise—but only a few are destined for greatness.
To be Continued…