Faul arrived with Phil at the equipment room to select their training gear. The place was filled with an array of weapons and tools, neatly arranged across the walls and shelves. Faul moved silently from one piece of equipment to another, his eyes scanning carefully. Phil, meanwhile, stood by, curiously observing his new friend, wondering what he’d do next. “Hey Phil, what do you think about this?” Faul asked, lifting a short black sword from the wall. The blade gleamed faintly, and its hilt was covered in red, scaly leather that resembled dragon skin. “Uh… it looks kind of devilish,” Phil replied, laughing nervously. To his surprise, Faul chuckled along. It was the first time Phil had seen him laugh since his arrival at the camp, and the sound felt rare and unexpected. “You made a good choice, son,” came a familiar voice. Alfred stepped into the room, arms crossed and a fond look on his face. “Your father picked up that same sword the day we arrived at our training camp back then.

One year had passed since Billie returned and delivered the message Maria had sent through the sword. After finding out that Faul was under Alfred’s care, Billie decided to continue his journey with the escorting cavalry until the time came for the great war against the Red Death. In that time, Billie had grown significantly stronger. By the age of twenty, he had surpassed the magical limits once thought to bind his bloodline. His family was already renowned for holding more magical power than the average sorcerer, but Billie had shattered expectations. At twenty, he had broken through the magical barrier and was now wielding six distinct magic abilities. His swordsmanship, too, had evolved beyond recognition. Among both the older and younger generations of warriors, Billie stood at the top—his blade swift, precise, and deadly. He had become the best swordsman within his escorting cavalry, earning the respect and admiration of all around him. Other escort units, who usually loved to

In the land of Kaar, two distinct factions held sway over the ancient and mysterious world: the knights and the mages. Knights were warriors, skilled in the arts of battle and forged through steel and blood. Mages, on the other hand, were masters of magic, their power stemming from ancient sorcery passed down through generations. It was said that those born with the potential to harness both knighthood and sorcery were destined for greatness. These rare individuals, known as Guardians, were unstoppable in war. With both the strength of a knight and the power of a mage, they could clear entire cities single-handedly. The world had seen them only once or twice in its long history, and their presence was as feared as it was revered. For centuries, Kaar had been waiting for the return of the Guardians. It was foretold that one day, a "sun shall rise from a fallen city," but this could only occur when the city had already crumbled, and the world had descended into chaos. The prophecy had

The time for the talent selection was rapidly approaching, and the young talents of the city were all busy preparing, training tirelessly for the big day. Their minds were filled with thoughts of the selection, anxious to prove themselves worthy and be chosen. But there was one who was not worried about being selected—Faul. While others fretted about their chances, Faul remained focused on a singular goal: to grow stronger. He was not concerned with the selection. His heart and mind were consumed with the thought of finding his mother. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong, that she was out there, and he was determined to rescue her. "I wonder if my mother is still alive. I will find her. I will save her," Faul thought to himself, clenching his fist as he punched a large tree beside him, creating a deep dent in its trunk. His frustration was palpable. "If only I wasn't reincarnated in this weak human body," he hissed under his breath, his frustration growing as he s

The days leading up to the talent selection passed without much event, as all the young individuals prepared for the approaching test of their skills. Faul, as usual, remained indifferent, showing little concern for the upcoming event. His focus was elsewhere, as he was still preoccupied with his own journey, one that was far more personal than the selection. "Faul, the talent selection is tomorrow. I hope you know that?" Phil asked, his voice tinged with concern as he stared at his friend's emotionless expression. "Yeah, I know. Is there any problem with that?" Faul replied nonchalantly, his tone carrying the same indifference that had characterized him for as long as Phil had known him. "You’ve been acting like none of this matters to you," Phil continued, the worry in his voice growing. "I know you're strong, but don’t you realize we’ll be facing the Silver Knights? They’re no joke." Faul's face remained expressionless as he glanced at Phil, his eyes calm. "I told you, Phil.