Chapter 4 – The Road to Strength

  (Arata’s Truth & The Beginning of Training)

  ---

  Two Years Before the Raid – The Capital City of Eldoria (Flashback: Zetsubo’s Perspective)

  The royal palace of Eldoria stood tall, its golden towers gleaming under the sun. It was a city of power, a place where kings, nobles, and warriors shaped the future of the world.

  Zetsubo strode through the halls, his cloak flowing behind him. The weight of duty sat heavily on his shoulders.

  For years, he had served the capital. Not because he wanted to—but because he had no choice.

  A noble higher than the royal family itself had taken interest in him, dragging him into their ranks. His skills as a warrior were unparalleled, and so he was used—sent on missions of assassination, retrieval, and control.

  This time was no different.

  As he entered the meeting chamber, a man clad in regal attire turned toward him. Duke Valstein.

  “You’ve served well, Zetsubo,” the noble said, a smirk playing on his lips. “I have another mission for you.”

  Zetsubo didn’t speak. He simply listened.

  “There’s a woman,” Valstein continued. “A former noble. She possesses something we need—a divine artifact. One that belongs to the gods.”

  Zetsubo’s eyes narrowed.

  Then—

  Valstein tossed a sealed letter onto the table.

  Zetsubo didn’t move at first. But when he finally picked it up and read the name inside, his blood ran cold.

  Sayaka Shirogone.

  His sister.

  He forced his expression to remain blank. “What do you want me to do?”

  Valstein chuckled. “Retrieve the artifact, of course. And if she resists—” he shrugged, “—eliminate her.”

  Zetsubo clenched his fists. This was why he hadn’t gone back. Why he had been forced to stay away from his sister?

  Because the moment they knew she was alive, they would target her.

  And now, it was his job to kill her.

  No.

  Not happening.

  That night, Zetsubo burned the letter.

  Then, he vanished from Eldoria—disappearing before the nobles could chain him any further.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  But he was too late.

  Two years later… they found her anyway.

  ---

  Mizukaza – The Morning After the Raid

  Zetsubo sat across from Arata at the small wooden table.

  The boy hadn’t touched his food.

  Instead, he sat stiffly, his fingers clenching his mother’s bloodstained necklace, his eyes distant.

  Zetsubo exhaled slowly. He had seen many broken souls before. Soldiers who lost their homes. Orphans of war. Survivors who barely clung to life.

  But this was different.

  This was Sayaka’s son.

  “…Tell me what happened.”

  Arata didn’t move at first. His fingers tightened around the necklace. Then, slowly—he spoke.

  ---

  The Truth Comes Out

  Arata recounted everything—the rumors, the accusations, the way the knights stormed into their home.

  He spoke in a low, even tone, his face blank. But Zetsubo saw the way his hands trembled.

  He didn’t interrupt. He didn’t react. He simply listened.

  Until—

  “…and then she told me to hide. So I did.”

  Zetsubo’s stomach twisted.

  “She fought them,” Arata continued, his voice wavering now. “She almost won, but—”

  His breath hitched.

  Zetsubo waited.

  Arata’s grip on the necklace turned white-knuckled.

  “They killed her,” he whispered. “And I couldn’t do anything.”

  The room fell into silence.

  Zetsubo took a slow breath. He wanted to tell Arata it wasn’t his fault. That there was nothing he could have done.

  But the boy wouldn’t believe him. Not yet.

  Instead, Zetsubo leaned forward. His voice was calm, steady like stone.

  “…And what do you want to do now?”

  Arata looked up.

  For the first time, Zetsubo saw it.

  The rage. The determination. The hunger for power.

  “I want to get stronger,” Arata said.

  Zetsubo nodded.

  “Then I’ll train you.”

  ---

  Training Begins – The Warrior’s Path

  The next morning, Arata stood outside Zetsubo’s home.

  The morning air was crisp, the sun barely rising over Mizukaza’s rooftops.

  Zetsubo stood before him, arms crossed. “Before we begin, there’s one thing you need to understand.”

  Arata stared up at him, waiting.

  “You’re not ready for magic yet.”

  Arata’s brows furrowed.

  Zetsubo continued his voice firm. “Power isn’t just about magic. Your mother was a warrior before she was a sorceress. If you can’t handle a blade, a fistfight, or a battle without spells—” he narrowed his eyes, “—then you won’t survive long enough to use magic at all.”

  Arata’s fists clenched at his sides. The weight of those words pressed down on him, heavy and unrelenting. He thought of his mother’s last fight. Of the knights. Of how powerless he had been.

  He refused to feel that way again.

  His voice was steady, but there was fire beneath it. “So what do I start with?”

  Zetsubo exhaled, a slow smirk tugging at his lips. He turned slightly, his shadow stretching in the early morning light.

  "You start," he said, stepping closer, "by learning how to fight with your body."

  His gaze locked onto Arata’s. It wasn’t just an answer.

  It was a challenge.