Fog rolled over the edges of the Island like a guardian spirit, keeping the world at bay. Within this sanctuary, time didn't pass the same. Seasons changed, but the island remained untouched—a hidden paradise, and the crucible where legends were born.
It had been several months since Ian Park turned four years old. Though still a child by appearance, his mind and body developed like a warrior king-in-the-making. And today was a special day.
His younger brother had turned 10 months.
"Hyung! Wait for me!" a tiny voice cried.
Ian turned to see **Jinyoung Park**, wobbling toward him with all the determination of a storm. He wore a training gi several sizes too large, and a wooden sword clutched in his hand.
Ian grinned, scooping him up easily. "You want to train already?"
Jinyoung pouted. "You said you'd teach me today. Like you promised."
"Alright, alright, young sword master. Let's start with something fun."
---
Today's training was not about brutal combat. It was about rhythm, movement, and instinct—but dressed up like play. Ian led Jinyoung through obstacle courses built into the mountain: climbing wooden beams, crawling under low logs, leaping over shallow streams. Goro and Anna, Ian's loyal summon attendants, watched from the distance.
"He's fast for his age," Anna observed.
"Must be in the blood," Goro grunted.
Jinyoung stumbled, but Ian was always there to catch him. He never scolded. Just smiled and said, "Try again."
And Jinyoung did. Every time. Relentless.
---
After hours of training, the boys sat under a cherry blossom tree, eating rice balls and grilled fish cooked by a summoned chef. The air was fresh with the scent of ocean salt and blooming herbs.
"Hyung," Jinyoung mumbled between bites. "Are we strong?"
Ian looked up. "Stronger than anyone knows. But strength isn't just muscles or speed. It's about protecting what you love."
Jinyoung nodded solemnly. "Then I want to be strong too. To protect you."
Ian smiled, ruffling his brother's hair. "Then we train harder tomorrow."
---
That evening, the clouds darkened. Ian's father returned from his yearly journey to the outside world—just for a few hours. His aura was so overwhelming that even the summoned soldiers avoided his gaze. Ian and Jinyoung stood before him with respect.
"You've grown," he said to Ian. "And you…" —he looked to Jinyoung— "You have his eyes."
"Whose?" Ian asked.
"My father," the man replied.
He turned away then, but his voice lingered like thunder.
"Keep training. But enjoy your youth. Power will find you eventually. And when it does… don't run from it."
Then he was gone, like a ghost swallowed by the fog.
---
That night, the brothers sat on the roof of their estate, looking up at stars untainted by city lights.
"Do you think we'll ever leave the island?" Jinyoung asked.
Ian leaned back, arms behind his head. "Someday. But not yet. The world isn't ready for us."
"Will we go together?"
Ian turned to him, eyes glinting. "Always."
And above them, hidden in the shadows of the trees, stood their grandfather—watching, silent, proud. He whispered only to himself:
"The bloodline awakens. The world better prepare."
---
**End of Chapter 3**