The night covered the sky of the Guards' Palace, the moon hanging high and scattering its light across the back courtyard. The trees stood in silence like sentinels, and the cold breeze brushed against their leaves, carrying a faint whisper. Inside a small room in one of the palace wings, a thirteen-year-old boy sat. His long hair draped over his shoulders, and his eyes carried a sharp gleam far beyond his age. This boy was Raiden, son of the Right Guardian of the sect.
Despite his father's status, Raiden was not spoiled. He spent most of his time training alone. He held a wooden sword, raising and lowering it, testing its weight as if it were a part of his own body. Though young, there was a firmness in his expression that hinted at experiences beyond his years.
A sigh escaped him as he stared at the ceiling.
"Just one year left… then the great events will begin, and the world will be thrown into bloody conflict. Will I just be a spectator when that time comes?"
Suddenly, his train of thought was cut by a strange sound, not from outside but from within.
[System Alert: Activated.]
His eyes widened in shock as a glowing window appeared before him.
> [Swordsman Template System Activated.]
First Template: Hawk Eyes – Dracule Mihawk.
Progress: 0%.
His heart skipped a beat. Mihawk?… the greatest swordsman in history?
For a moment, time seemed to stop. Then another notification appeared:
> [Beginner's Gift: 10% compatibility with Mihawk's template.]
He almost laughed aloud, but he held his voice back so as not to wake anyone.
"Just ten percent… and yet I feel my veins filling with strange power!"
He gripped his wooden sword, and suddenly, it no longer felt like a dead piece of wood but an extension of his body. His arm steadied, his breath calmed.
He raised the sword and tried a swift strike. Even the air itself seemed to part before him.
"This… this is only ten percent?"
But the system did not stop:
> [Daily Mission: Train with the sword for two hours.]
Reward: Slight increase in compatibility with the template.
Failure: No reward.
He read the lines over and over. No punishment… no threats… only rewards for effort.
A deep smile spread across his face, as if the system was testing his will: "So it's up to me. If I want power… I must move."
He placed the wooden sword in position and began performing the techniques he had learned from his father's training. At first, his strikes were slow, then faster and faster, until his body moved with a strange harmony.
With every strike, he felt the air resisting him. With every motion, his arm grew steadier, and his eyes sharper, catching the smallest of details. He did not notice time passing until sweat drenched his clothes.
After two hours, the system chimed:
> [Daily Mission Complete.]
[Compatibility Increased: +1%].
A shiver ran through his body, a subtle yet undeniable sense of improvement.
He sat on the ground, panting, then looked at the window again:
> [Mihawk Template: 11%]
– "Only eleven percent… and yet I feel as if I've already surpassed my old limits."
He closed his eyes for a moment, but quickly opened them again. Sleep no longer tempted him after such a revelation. Instead, his eyes gleamed with determination.
In his mind was the image of Mihawk, the swordsman who faced the mightiest opponents of the seas without fear.
"If this path leads me to his level… no, beyond it… then I will not stop."
He rose again despite his exhaustion and gripped his sword. He didn't have to—the daily mission was done—but he wanted to go beyond what the system demanded.
With every strike, he imagined an opponent before him.
With every movement, he heard the clash of steel in his ears.
With every breath, he whispered to himself: "I will not be just a shadow in events already known… I will be one of those who change their course."
And as the first rays of dawn broke across the sky, Raiden was still standing in the courtyard, his body weary but his eyes sharp—like a hawk watching its prey.
The path had begun.