The imperial garden breeze flowed gently, stirring leaves arranged with unnatural perfection like a painting forced into symmetry. In the midst of that beauty, a young girl sat upright, far too composed for her age.
Vynessia Ve Aurellian.
The youngest princess of the Aurelthia Empire.
Her eyes did not enjoy the garden. She gazed into the distance, as if the entire landscape were nothing more than a chessboard too small for her mind.
Before her, a cup of tea still steamed.
"The invitation for Magnus… has it been delivered?" she asked without turning.
The servant beside her bowed respectfully.
"It has, Your Highness."
A faint smile formed on Vynessia's lips. Thin, almost insincere.
"Magnus…" she murmured softly. "An Archmage… and a Swordmaster… yet not a high noble."
She tapped her teacup lightly.
"How amusing. This world respects power… yet still pretends to kneel before titles."
The servant remained silent. As usual.
Vynessia continued, now as if speaking to herself.
"There are many Archmages out there. Many more famous… more 'politically clean.'"
She smiled faintly.
"But only a few are old enough to understand… how fragile an empire truly is."
Footsteps approached.
Vynessia did not turn. She already knew.
"My little sister," a man's voice sounded. Calm, authoritative, fully controlled. "You really invited Magnus?"
Lucas Ve Aurellian. The crown prince.
Vynessia lifted her teacup slowly.
"Isn't that obvious, brother?"
Lucas stepped closer, standing beside her. His gaze was sharp, trying to read something behind her expression.
"He's not a Duke. Not a Marquis. Not even part of the empire's core."
He narrowed his eyes.
"Why him?"
Vynessia finally turned.
Her smile… was too perfect.
"Because he belongs to no one."
Lucas fell silent for a moment.
Vynessia continued, her voice soft, almost deliberately whispered.
"People like that are more dangerous… and more valuable."
Lucas let out a short breath.
"You always talk like this. As if everyone is just a tool."
"Isn't that what they are?" Vynessia replied lightly.
There was no emotion there. Only logic.
Lucas stared at her longer.
"…Sometimes I forget you're still a child."
Vynessia smiled faintly.
"That's a mistake people often make."
A brief silence followed.
Then Lucas shifted the topic, his tone slightly more serious.
"I just received a report from the western battalion."
Vynessia didn't react. But her eyes… narrowed slightly.
"The refugee camp in Maya City," Lucas continued, "has been completely cleared."
He smiled faintly.
"Nothing remains."
The garden air suddenly felt colder.
Vynessia looked at her brother. Her expression… calm.
Too calm.
"Of course," she said softly.
"The right decision… for the empire."
Lucas frowned.
That answer was correct. Politically.
But… something felt wrong.
"I see…" he murmured quietly. "I hope that really is your reason."
Vynessia did not respond.
She simply turned her gaze back to the garden.
But within her silence
images of children.
Fire.
And a white-haired boy staring at the world with a hatred far too deep.
Her smile returned.
This time… different.
Sharper.
Colder.
"This banquet…" she murmured so softly it was almost inaudible,
"will be the beginning of something far greater."
Lucas did not hear it.
He only sighed.
"Come. The meeting is waiting."
Vynessia stood gracefully.
"Of course, brother."
They walked side by side toward the palace.
But the direction of their thoughts…
had long since diverged.
In Vynessia's heart, one thing was clear:
It wasn't a banquet she was preparing.
But a stage.
And everyone.
including Magnus, including the empire
were merely pieces in a game they had yet to realize.
Elsewere...
In the backyard of the Magnus Mansion no longer felt beautiful.
Six days.
Not a long time.
But for two seven-year-old children forced to endure the ancient training methods of a living legend… it felt like half a lifetime.
The ground was scarred with footprints, sword marks, and traces of small, uncontrolled explosions.
White stood in the middle of the field, breathing heavily. Sweat soaked his white hair, clinging to a face that was slowly losing its patience.
In his hand, the training sword trembled slightly.
"Again," a cold voice said.
Magnus.
Or more precisely, his Swordmaster self.
White gritted his teeth.
"That was… a hundred times."
"And the hundred and first hasn't been done."
A response completely devoid of empathy.
White exhaled sharply, then raised his sword again.
First swing.
Second.
Third.
His movements began to change.
No longer wild like the first day.
There was rhythm.
There was pressure.
And for a brief moment… the air around the blade trembled.
Faint.
Almost invisible.
But enough to make Magnus stop speaking.
"…Finally," he murmured.
White didn't notice.
He kept swinging, forcing his body to keep going despite being on the verge of collapse.
Meanwhile.
On the other side of the field, Alyssa stood still.
Completely still.
Unlike White, whose training was full of movement, Alyssa's looked like… she was doing nothing.
Her eyes were closed.
Her hands slowly opened.
"Feel it," Magnus' Archmage self spoke from behind her.
"Don't force it. Mana isn't something you pull by strength. It comes… if you're calm enough to listen."
Alyssa frowned slightly.
"If I get too calm, I just get sleepy," she muttered.
Magnus didn't respond.
He simply waited.
And a few seconds later.
The air around Alyssa shifted.
Very subtly.
But undeniably.
Dust on the ground began to tremble.
Small leaves moved… without being touched.
Alyssa slowly opened her eyes.
"…This…"
Magnus smiled faintly.
"Mana zone."
Alyssa looked at her hands, slightly disbelieving.
"I didn't pull it…"
"Because you didn't need to."
From afar, White stopped swinging his sword and stared.
"So she just stands there… and gets results?"
His tone made it clear he found that deeply unfair.
Magnus' Swordmaster self glanced at him.
"She isn't standing. She's understanding."
White scoffed.
"Then I want to 'understand' while sitting down."
"Go ahead," Magnus replied flatly.
"And stay weak."
…That worked immediately. White resumed swinging without another complaint.
Despite how ancient and brutal Magnus' methods were, they weren't starting from nothing.
Back in the refugee camp, they had once been trained by a group of rebels who passed through.
•Basic survival.
•Basic awareness.
•Basic use of mana.
That was the reason they didn't collapse on the first day.
And now.
Those basics were sharpening into something more refined.
White, with a faint aura beginning to appear in each swing.
Alyssa, with mana that was beginning to "acknowledge" her.
For children their age…
This was too fast.
And that was exactly why Magnus became more serious.
"Enough."
The training stopped abruptly.
White immediately dropped his sword and sat down without caring about the dirt.
"Finally…"
Alyssa opened her eyes, her breathing slightly uneven.
"I didn't even move… but I'm more tired."
"Because you were thinking," Magnus replied.
"That's more exhausting than running, for those not used to it."
White glanced sideways.
"That sounded personal."
Alyssa replied flatly,
"And you're proud of not thinking."
Before their small argument could escalate.
Footsteps approached.
Maid O'drice entered the training area, followed by a young maid whose expression was far too cheerful for this setting.
"Lord Magnus," O'drice said politely,
"An invitation from the Imperial Palace of Aurelthia. The banquet will begin tonight."
White raised an eyebrow.
"…A banquet?"
Alyssa immediately looked uninterested.
"Is that mandatory?"
"Yes," Magnus answered shortly.
"You're coming."
And before they could protest.
Nesya, The young maid.
suddenly approached White.
Her eyes sparkled.
"Ooh… young master"
She hugged him, without permission.
"…What is happening?" he muttered flatly, clearly unprepared for social creatures like this.
"You're so handsome! White hair, red eyes, it's like something out of a Myth!" the maid continued enthusiastically.
Alyssa's lips tightened.
"…Tsk."
A small sound, but sharp.
"That's just White," she said coldly. "Nothing special."
White glanced at her.
"Was that promotion or insult?"
"Haven't decided yet," Alyssa replied without expression.
O'drice quickly pulled the young maid back.
"My apologies, Young Master. She's new."
Magnus simply shook his head, clearly amused.
"Interesting. Only a few days, and you're already attracting attention."
White sighed.
"I'd rather attract enemies than… this."
Magnus smiled faintly.
"You'll learn they're equally dangerous."
Alyssa crossed her arms.
"Then I'll avoid both."
"You can't," Magnus said casually.
"Because tonight, you'll walk straight into both."
White and Alyssa fell silent.
A banquet, the palace, nobles.
Everything they disliked… and needed.
"Prepare yourselves," Magnus continued.
"Today, you learn the basics of power."
He looked at both of them.
"But tomorrow… you learn the world you're meant to destroy."
Silence followed.
White exhaled, then stood up.
"…Alright."
Alyssa nodded slightly.
"Then at least I want to look better than him," she said, glancing at White.
White immediately shot back,
"Impossible."
"We'll see."
Magnus simply smiled.
Children.
Training to become monsters.
while still arguing over the most trivial things.
And somehow… as Magnus watched them,
he saw shadows of a man and a woman in their place.
And that was proof they were still human.
For now.