In the expansive, verdant garden of the Hart mansion, young Alden Hart stood hunched, breathing heavily. His sword lay fallen beside him, evidence of yet another failure in training. A tall figure loomed over him, disdain seeping from every word.

“Look at yourself,” the man spat. Mr. Orin, the trusted right hand of Edgar Hart, held Alden’s gaze with a piercing, contemptuous stare as he continued, “You aren’t even worthy of your name. Pathetic, young Hart.”

Alden wiped the sweat from his brow, straightened his back, and stepped closer, determination flaring in his eyes. “Mr. Orin,” he called out, voice strained but steady. “You call me pathetic and a loser, but maybe you should look at yourself.” His voice lowered with disdain, “Nothing but a servant of my father.”

He seized his sword from Mr. Orin’s hand, turning on his heel to leave, leaving Mr. Orin rooted in place, silent in the face of Alden’s audacity.

Later, in the quiet solitude of the deep forest, Alden sat alone, his heart burdened by the expectations weighing on him. The cool breeze whispered through the trees, providing little comfort as he cursed himself for falling short.

“Why?” he muttered, his voice cracking. “Why am I not like my father?” A lone tear finally escaped, slipping down his cheek as he murmured, “Just a weak and defeated son of Captain Edgar Hart. Why am I even here?”

A strong voice broke through the silence, calm yet commanding. “Do you think merely asking that question will bring you strength?”

Alden looked up, startled, as a tall, shining figure stepped from the shadows. The man’s confident stance radiated authority.

“What purpose should I be born for?” Alden asked, voice laced with curiosity and despair.

The figure’s expression softened into a faint smile. “That’s for you to discover, young Hart.”

Alden blinked in surprise, wiping away the last traces of his tears. “You… you know my name? Who are you?”

The figure took a step forward. “It’s not surprising you don’t know me, but soon, I’ll be taking your father’s place.”

Shock filled Alden’s face. “I-I’m sorry for not recognizing you. You must be… Sir Kyle?”

Kyle placed a steady hand on Alden’s shoulder. “No need for ‘Sir’—I’m not the captain yet.” He studied Alden’s face. “Now, tell me, why do you doubt yourself?”

Alden’s gaze dropped, his words weighed down with pain. “My mother was the only one who loved me as I am. Now… everyone says I’m unworthy of my name. That I’m not fit to be called Captain Edgar Hart’s son.” His voice trembled. “I’m a disappointment.”

Kyle’s gaze grew resolute. “The real loser isn’t the one who fails, but the one who stops trying because of failure.” He leaned down, picked up Alden’s sword, and held it out to him. “The choice is yours: take this sword and keep moving forward, or stay here and curse your fate.”

Alden took the sword as Kyle’s words echoed in his mind. “No one is born perfect, Alden. Perfection comes from sweat, blood, and fighting for it.”

Kyle turned to leave, giving Alden one last look. “If you’re serious about proving your father wrong, meet me here tomorrow—same time, same place.” And with that, he disappeared into the shadows, leaving Alden standing alone, lost in thought.

Moments later, Mr. Orin arrived, his face stern. “Your father is waiting for you. Don’t keep him waiting.”

Alden nodded quietly and followed, his mind still replaying Kyle’s words.

The cold, dimly lit room felt daunting as Alden entered, heart pounding. Edgar Hart stood before him, a man as formidable as his reputation. Alden tried to mask his anxiety.

“You were calling me?” he managed to ask.

Edgar stood from his large chair, his gaze intense. “You shouldn’t be out wandering the forest when you could be training every ounce of your strength.”

Alden swallowed, holding his father’s gaze. “I’m sorry, sir. I just… needed some fresh air.”

Edgar moved closer to the window, his face hard as he looked out. “Do you know how much time you have to become strong?”

Alden looked uncertain. “I… I don’t know. A few years, maybe?”

Edgar turned, his expression unchanging. “No. We have no idea how long we can stand against the demons and their Death King.” His tone softened, and his fierce gaze shifted, showing a rare, almost paternal warmth. “Prepare yourself as quickly as you can. We may not have the luxury of years.”

Seeing this rare side of his father, Alden felt his resolve harden. “Yes, sir. I mean… I’ll try my best, Father.”

Edgar nodded, watching him leave. Mr. Orin, who had been observing from the side, spoke up once Alden was gone. “You didn’t scold him as usual, sir.”

Edgar’s eyes gleamed with a hint of pride. “If Kyle Frost has taken notice of him, perhaps Alden has finally found his path.”

The next morning, the first rays of sun filtered through the trees, casting a warm glow over the forest. Kyle stood waiting, pacing with barely contained excitement. When Alden finally appeared, Kyle greeted him with a grin.

“You made it,” he said warmly. “Ready to begin?”

As the sun rose higher, illuminating them both, Alden nodded, the weight of the past night’s words still with him. In that moment, his doubt began to shift, replaced by a newfound determination.

Together, under the brightening sun, Alden’s training began, as he took his first step toward discovering the legacy he was meant to uphold.