The sun rose like a crimson banner across the eastern sky, its golden rays lighting up the proud towers of the Crimson Lion Clan estate.
Today was the day.
Alen Crimsonflame, heir of the clan, was finally leaving for the Four Pillars Martial Academy—the most prestigious training ground in all of Aerthain.
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A Bittersweet Departure
Alen stepped toward the silver-lined, mana-enchanted carriage waiting at the gates. He wore the official red cloak of the clan, edged in gold with the lion insignia across his back. His six-star magic core pulsed faintly beneath his robes, though no one could sense it but him.
And yet…
He couldn't move.
Behind him stood a sea of Crimson Lion retainers—servants, warriors, alchemists, cooks—all of them sobbing.
"Young master, remember to brush your teeth every morning!"
"Don't forget to eat three meals! Five, if you can! Your mana needs it!"
"If things get even a little hard, just come home—we won't care what the world says!"
Among them, the loudest and most dramatic were none other than his father and grandfather, bawling without shame.
"I should've locked the gates!" Darius cried.
"He's still a baby! The world doesn't deserve him yet!" Dorian added, clutching a lace handkerchief.
"You gave him a dagger made from dragon bone last week!" Selene growled, crossing her arms.
Ashra, his grandmother, simply whacked both men on the head with her staff. "Compose yourselves. He's going to learn, not die."
Alen couldn't help but chuckle.
But then his mother stepped forward. Her eyes were soft, but her voice carried steel.
"Alen. Remember our clan's creed: Kindness shall be returned tenfold. But if someone dares betray or harm you…"
"Revenge shall be returned a thousandfold," Alen finished.
"Even if it's a king. Even if it's a kingdom. Do not fear. You are my son."
He bowed deeply. "I will remember, Mother."
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A Promise in the Shadows
As Alen stepped into the carriage, the Clan Head—his grandfather Dorian—gave one last command.
A tall figure cloaked in black materialized behind him. No presence. No sound. Just death.
"Shadow."
"As you command, my lord," the figure replied without emotion.
"You are his godfather. You love him as I do. Protect him—but do not spoil him. Do not interfere unless his life is truly in danger."
"As you wish."
The figure vanished.
Alen never even knew he was there.
---
The Girl by the Road
Hours into the journey, the road curved along the edge of a cliff, lined with trees and flowers that shimmered in the morning light. Up ahead, Alen noticed a lone figure struggling up the hill—a girl, roughly his age, carrying a bundle over her shoulder and a scroll of parchment clutched in her hand.
She was visibly exhausted.
"Whoa, whoa—hold up," Alen called out, leaning out the window of the carriage. "Where are you going, lady?"
She glanced at him, suspicious. "Are you a noble?"
Alen smiled playfully. "Confidential, miss."
She narrowed her eyes. "Then you're one of those spoiled merchant brats. Am I right?"
He laughed. "You wound me. Actually, I'm headed to the academy. You?"
"…Same," she mumbled.
"You're walking?"
"I missed the regional convoy," she muttered. "They said if I'm not at the gates by sundown, I lose my spot."
Alen tilted his head. "Wanna ride with me?"
She looked at him like he'd grown two heads.
"I don't bite. And I don't have any friends my age. Just wolves in armor and elders with canes. You'd be doing me a favor."
She hesitated.
But the scroll in her hand began to fade—the magical timer on the admission decree. One more delay and she'd be disqualified.
"…Fine. But if you try anything creepy, I'll throw you off a cliff."
Alen grinned and opened the door. "Deal."
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A Bond Begins
At first, the girl said nothing.
Alen talked anyway—about his training, about the weird dishes his grandmother made, about accidentally summoning a flame in his sleep and nearly torching the roof.
She stayed quiet.
Until he told a joke about a cultivator, a mage, and a chicken spirit getting stuck in a teleportation array.
She snorted.
Then laughed.
By the end of the ride, she was smiling.
"So," Alen said, "what's your name?"
"…Lyra," she said softly. "From the village of Dawnshade. I'm nobody important."
"Not true," Alen replied, offering a hand. "You're my first academy friend."
She blinked, then shook his hand with a small smile. "You talk too much."
"You'll get used to it."
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The Academy Gates
As the sun dipped below the horizon, they arrived.
The Four Pillars Martial Academy stood like a divine fortress upon the Floating Isle of Elezar—an entire landmass suspended in the sky by ancient magic.
Floating monoliths circled the academy's spires. Crystal bridges linked towers that sparkled with golden enchantments. Vast training fields spread across the sky, anchored by stone platforms covered in ancient runes.
A majestic phoenix-shaped formation burned across the entrance, glowing with living flame.
Thousands of students from across the continent were arriving—by griffin, teleportation, airship, or foot.
Lyra gasped in awe. "It's even bigger than I imagined…"
Alen stepped down from the carriage, extending a hand.
"Shall we, partner?"
She took it.
Together, they crossed the threshold.
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End of Chapter 5