Five years after the death of Vanthelis
The island that was once ruled by pirates now stood eerily peaceful. Gone were the days of blood and rusted blades. In their place stood a modest village—quiet homes, wooden fences, and at the center, a small shrine of the Church. Once a symbol of fear, now it cloaked itself in purity. The villagers wore simple robes and muttered quiet prayers. But the shadow of what happened years ago still lingered.
Near the outskirts of the village, three children trained in silence under the scorching sun. Dirt kicked up as they stumbled, swung, and fell over again and again.
"You two—stop running! Keep your stance firm!" a teenage boy barked with a wooden spear in hand. His eyes were hardened far beyond his age.
He demonstrated again—feet shoulder-width apart, knees slightly bent, arms firm as he jabbed the wooden tip forward in a fast, clean motion. Then, he spun it, twirled it over his head, and brought it down with a loud thud into a thick piece of log that cracked at the center.
The two children watched, wide-eyed.
"Now you try!" he ordered.
A young girl, barely six years old, raised her short spear clumsily. She copied his movements, tongue sticking out, determined—but ended up poking the ground and nearly tripping over her own feet.
"Big brother Jayson! This is so hard! Can't we just play instead?" she said, pouting but smiling cheekily.
Jayson sighed but didn't smile back. "No, Rosie. I told you before—this isn't just training. This is our future. This is our revenge."
He glanced at the shrine in the village and gritted his teeth. "We owe it to them… to all of them."
Rosie lowered her spear, looking uncertain.
Beside her, a young boy held his weapon with a bit more control. He wasn't much older than her, maybe six as well. His eyes were always distant—thoughtful.
"But big brother," the boy said, "can we really take revenge on those people? They destroyed our families. Can the three of us really stand against them?"
Jayson knelt down and put a hand on his shoulder. "Of course we can, Jack. You and Rosie… you're strong. I just know it. So don't doubt yourself. And don't dampen the mood."
Jack looked at Jayson and gave a soft smile. "Okay, big brother."
But deep down, Jack wasn't like the other two. He wasn't from this world. He never said it aloud, not even to himself sometimes—but the system in his mind reminded him of it every day.
System Activated
DOTA Hero Template System
Current Template: Dragon Knight
Swordsmanship: Active
Dragon Tail: Active
Dragon Blood: Passive
Breath Fire: Locked
Dragon Form: Locked
He didn't know what happened in the past—only the fragments Jayson shared with them. Stories of a fallen clan, a war against the church, and a man named Vanthelis who died trying to save their kind.
Jack never knew that man.
But when he saw the pain in Jayson's eyes, the way he trained with desperation, the quiet tears he sometimes shed when he thought the kids were asleep—he didn't need to.
Jack clenched his small fists. He didn't need to remember the past to shape the future.
He looked at Rosie, smiling brightly with her crooked spear stance, and Jayson, who carried the burden of an entire generation on his shoulders.
"I'll make sure we get that revenge,Big Brother Jayson," Jack said quietly, almost to himself.
A gust of wind passed through the clearing, brushing the wooden spears and rustling the grass. Somewhere in the distance, a bird cried—a lonely call.
The sun dipped lower, casting long shadows across the training ground.
Three children, one dream.
One world that had forgotten them.
But Jack hadn't forgotten.
And one day, the world wouldn't forget them either.