The heavy iron gates of the Shinsei estate slammed shut behind him with a definitive, final metallic clang. Kaito walked down the dirt path leading away from the mountain territory, his boots kicking up small clouds of dust. The wind felt freezing against his face. 

We were so happy, Kaito thought shatteredly, his mind wandering back through the memories of his childhood. Before all of this... before the nobility, before the king's grand recognition, we were just a cheerful, simple family.

He remembered the days before his father was granted the official Duke title for his swordsmanship. Back then, they didn't care about optimal bloodline manipulation or extracting perfect high-tier races from the Goddess. They had laughed around the dinner table, shared stories by the hearth, and trained in the courtyard just for the pure joy of the blade. But the moment the King elevated their house, the pressure of high society had slowly poisoned everything. The love had mutated into a cold, corporate obsession with prestige. And Kaito's "malformed" status was the ultimate threat to that precious noble name. As the towering white-stone towers of his family's estate slowly shrank in the distance, Kaito’s silhouette grew smaller and smaller against the vast, unforgiving landscape of the outer territories. He was completely alone, fading away from the only world he had ever known.