The golden token in my hand was still warm.
No—
It was pulsing.
Like a heartbeat.
Slow.
Steady.
Alive.
I stared at the emblem engraved with a sword crossed over a shield, its golden edges glowing faintly under the pale morning light.
The sea breeze rushed past me.
The scent of salt and wet sand filled the air.
Before I could ask another question, the tall man in a military uniform stepped forward.
Every step he took felt heavy.
Measured.
Like thunder walking across the earth.
His boots pressed into the sand with a crisp sound that instantly reminded me of polished leather shoes echoing through the shared veranda back home.
For a moment, my chest tightened.
The image of home flashed before my eyes.
The mango tree.
The neem tree.
The swing.
The laughter of my cousins.
Samantha did Didi's warm smile.
Anand bhaiya's teasing voice.
I swallowed hard.
No.
I had to stay strong.
The man stopped in front of me.
Tall.
Broad-shouldered.
His body looked like it had been carved from stone.
A sharp jawline.
Silver-black hair cut short.
A faint scar along the right side of his face.
But it was his eyes that froze me.
Cold.
Sharp.
And filled with the weight of countless battles.
For a second—
He reminded me of Dadu.
General Raghav Sharma.
The man who could make an entire room fall silent just by entering it.
The military figure looked at me for a long moment.
Then slowly bent one knee.
His gaze met mine.
For the first time, the sternness in his face softened.
"So…"
His voice was deep.
Heavy.
Like distant thunder rolling over mountains.
"This is the child."
The silver-haired old man behind him nodded.
"He is the one."
The military master stood up straight.
Then placed his right fist over his chest.
"I am Arjun Dev Rathore."
His voice echoed across the shore.
"Former Supreme Marshal of the War Sovereign Guild."
"Guardian of the First Token."
"The Iron General."
The sea wind howled behind him.
His aura alone made the air feel heavier.
Then he looked directly into my eyes.
"And from this moment onward…"
"I am your first master."
My fingers tightened around the token.
A strange feeling stirred in my chest.
Fear.
Respect.
And something else.
Trust.
He turned sharply.
"Follow me."
Without waiting for a response, he began walking toward the cliff path.
The other nineteen masters stepped aside.
The woman in white—Dr Meera—gave me a reassuring nod.
The swordsman crossed his arms.
The man with silver glasses smirked.
I took a deep breath.
Then followed.
The climb was brutal.
Stone steps twisted along the cliffside.
Steep.
Sharp.
Unforgiving.
For my small legs, it felt endless.
By the time I reached the top, I was breathing heavily.
Sweat rolled down my forehead.
But the sight before me made me forget the exhaustion.
A vast stone arena stretched across the top of the cliff.
Training dummies.
Weapon racks.
Sand pits.
Obstacle walls.
A running path carved around the cliff's edge.
And at the centre—
a massive black flag.
On it was the same symbol as the token in my hand.
Sword and shield.
The wind snapped it violently.
Arjun Dev Rathore stood in the centre.
"This…"
His voice echoed.
"…is the War Hall Arena."
He turned toward me.
"War is not won with strength alone."
His gaze sharpened.
"It begins with discipline."
Then he pointed at the ground.
"Stand."
I blinked.
"That's it?"
One of his brows rose.
"You expected swords on the first day?"
I awkwardly looked away.
Maybe.
For a brief second—
A faint smile touched his lips.
Then he stood straight.
Feet should be shoulder-width apart.
Hands behind his back.
Like a mountain.
"Copy me."
I immediately copied him.
Or at least, I tried.
"Wrong."
His hand adjusted my shoulder.
"Again."
I tried again.
"Wrong."
Again.
Again.
Again.
Minutes passed.
Then an hour.
Then more.
The sun rose higher.
My legs began to shake.
My arms trembled.
Sweat soaked my clothes.
I wanted to sit.
I wanted to cry.
But then—
A memory flashed.
The swing beneath the mango tree.
Samantha did push me.
Anand bhaiya is laughing.
Nanaji is feeding me laddoos.
Dadi is kissing my forehead.
The warmth of both families.
The youngest darling.
Me.
My fists clenched.
I would not give up.
Arjun's voice cut through the silence.
"Why are you here?"
I looked up.
His sharp eyes locked onto mine.
I swallowed.
"So I can go home."
Silence.
Then—
"Wrong."
I froze.
His voice dropped.
"You are here, so no one can ever take your home away from you again."
The words struck like lightning.
My breath caught.
He was right.
This wasn't only about going back.
This was about protecting everyone I loved.
I slowly nodded.
Something inside me changed.
The fear in my heart began to transform.
Into determination.
Arjun walked to the weapon rack.
He picked up a wooden staff.
Then tossed another toward me.
I barely caught it.
It was heavier than expected.
He lifted his own.
"Attack."
I froze.
"Now."
I rushed forward.
He moved.
Fast.
Tap.
The staff struck my ankle.
I fell hard.
Pain shot through my knee.
Tears instantly welled in my eyes.
"Get up."
His voice was calm.
Firm.
I stood.
Again.
I attacked.
Again.
He deflected.
Again.
I fell.
Again.
And again.
And again.
By the tenth fall, my hands were scraped.
By the twentieth, my legs shook.
By the thirtieth—
I stopped crying.
I attacked smarter.
Lower.
Faster.
His eyes narrowed.
Then—
for the first time—
My staff touched the sleeve of his uniform.
Silence.
The sea roared below the cliff.
Then—
His lips curved into a faint smile.
"Well done."
I panted heavily.
He lowered his staff.
"The first lesson of war."
His voice became solemn.
"Strength is not in never falling."
"Strength is rising every single time."
The words sank deep into my heart.
He turned toward the long staircase descending the cliff.
"One hundred runs."
I stared.
"One hundred?!"
His expression did not change.
"The heir of twenty guilds should manage one hundred."
I looked at the endless stairs.
Then at my tiny legs.
Then back at him.
For a moment, I thought I would cry again.
Instead—
I smiled.
A small one.
Determined smile.
"I'll do it."
For the first time—
The Iron General truly smiled.
And somewhere beyond the sea—
beneath the mango tree—
The swing moved softly in the evening breeze.
As if waiting.
For me.