The next morning, as a thin veil of mist still clung to the rooftops and dew glistened on the grass, the Heroes' Party prepared to leave the village. A single night of rest was far from enough to heal the exhaustion and grief weighing on their hearts, but at the very least, it had given them enough strength to move forward.
Thomas walked with them all the way to the village gate. He handed Willin a sealed handwritten letter, the paper bearing the weight of urgency.
— "Take this to Holland, in the city. He'll know what it means. And remember… don't take more risks than you have to." Thomas's voice was steady, though lined with concern.
Shun stepped forward and embraced his brother tightly, the warmth of that embrace making his throat tighten.
— "You have to come back… I'll train hard. Next time we meet, I want to stand beside you as your equal."
Willin smiled, resting a reassuring hand on his younger brother's head.
— "I promise. I'll help the Heroes' Party defeat the Demon King in the North. Once it's done, I'll return. And when that day comes, Shun, you must keep your promise too."
The sound of hooves clattered against the dirt road as the carriage began to roll. Slowly, the party departed, Willin among them. From afar, Shun stood silently, watching their figures grow smaller beneath the rising morning sun. His heart twisted with both worry and hope, heavy yet quietly burning with resolve.
On his way back, Shun passed by Reina's house. He froze for a moment, caught by the sight before him: in the courtyard, faint blue light flickered again and again. Reina was training, sweat streaming down her face, her breathing uneven—but her eyes sharp with determination.
From her slender hands, bows of natural energy formed, dissolved, then formed again. She repeated the movement dozens, hundreds of times, as though carving the technique into her very bones.
Shun stood still, watching her for a long while, his heart trembling. He realized then that he was not the only one carrying a vow toward the future. Reina, too, bore the same weight.
That morning, Shun stopped by Reina's house. Out in the dirt yard, the girl was still training relentlessly. Her hands trembled from exhaustion, yet the energy bow kept appearing and vanishing in her grasp. Sweat streamed down her face, her vision blurred with fatigue—she looked utterly drained, still bearing the weight of the nightmarish hunt.
Shun didn't speak right away. He simply sat down nearby, quietly watching her strained movements. At last, he broke the silence.
— "Good morning, Reina."
At the sound of his voice, Reina froze. The bow of light dissolved in her hands as she turned to face him. Her eyes were red and brimming with tears, yet deep within them burned a fierce, unyielding fire.
Her voice trembled, but it carried iron resolve:
— "Shun… I will become the strongest Hero in the world. I'll make every monster pay… for what they've done."
Shun's breath caught. In that instant, he realized—Reina was no longer the innocent, carefree girl she once had been. Tragedy and bloodshed had forced her to grow in a single brutal trial. She now understood the world's cruel truth:
Hunt… or be hunted.
At a loss for words, Shun only reached out, gently brushing away the tears on her cheek. Then he rose to his feet, gave a small nod of farewell, and walked away.
On his way home, silence weighed on him. Images filled his mind: Holland—his third brother, a born leader, skilled at everything he set his hands to. Then Willin—wise, courageous, willing to shoulder responsibility no one else would.
Shun clenched his fist.
I have to grow too. I'll train harder than ever, become stronger than ever… so that one day, I can stand beside them as their equal.
Under the light of the rising sun, his steps no longer faltered. A new resolve had taken root in his heart.
Shun quietly walked to the empty field on the right side of the village. Once, this place had echoed with the laughter of his friends—those who had shared the same dream of becoming Heroes. But now, all that remained was silence and emptiness. They had all fallen, victims of a cruel selection trial.
He sat down in the middle of the field, eyes lifting to the pale morning sky. Then, without a word, he pressed his palms against the ground. Push-ups.
One by one, steady and relentless. His arms trembled, his body burned, yet his eyes blazed with determination. One hundred. Two hundred. Three hundred. By the time the sun had risen high, Shun collapsed onto his back, gasping for breath, sweat soaking through his shirt.
But he refused to stop. Forcing himself upright, Shun began to run. One lap around the village. Two laps. Three. By the tenth, his legs screamed in pain. By the twentieth, each step felt like tearing muscle apart, his lungs on fire. And still, he clenched his teeth and pushed forward.
Only when his body could no longer move did Shun return home. His limbs were heavy, his strength drained. Yet in his eyes, there was no surrender. He bathed, ate a quick hot meal, then sat down at his desk, opening thick books with unwavering focus.
From that day on, Shun bound himself to a strict discipline: train – eat – study – rest. Day after day, week after week, month after month.
Time passed. A full year slipped by in silence. And in that once desolate field, there now stood a new Shun—stronger, tougher, his will forged into steel by sweat, tears, and the weight of loss.
In just one year, Shun had changed so much that even he could hardly recognize himself. From a carefree 13-year-old boy, he had now, at 14, grown far more mature. His heart no longer chased after fleeting dreams, but burned with a clear and noble resolve: to become the strongest Hero in the world.
He was no longer alone on that path. Reina—the girl who also carried the scars of that tragic night—had gradually become his closest companion. Day after day, the two of them trained together, pushing each other beyond exhaustion, urging one another to rise again. Like two small flames flickering in the wind, they only grew steadier, more unyielding.
But time did not only bring growth; it also left behind the cruel marks of reality. Thomas, the man who had raised and guided Shun since childhood, was weakening with each passing day. His hair grew whiter, his steps heavier. And then, the cruel truth struck like a blade to the heart: he had been diagnosed with cancer.
Though he tried to hide it, Shun could see the harsh coughs, the weary eyes, the body that had grown thin and frail. Quietly, Shun cared for him—preparing meals, helping him to the porch to sit beneath the sun, reading books with him on quiet afternoons.
Every letter Shun sent to Willin and Holland carried news of their grandfather's condition. In each word, he hoped to prepare them for the inevitable—yet at the same time, prayed desperately for a miracle.
Night after night, after long hours of grueling training, Shun would sit silently beside Thomas, watching the dim oil lamp flicker in the dark. Within his heart, worry and determination blended into a silent vow:
-"I will grow stronger. I will protect the ones I love. Before you leave this world… you will see me become a true Hero."