Evening. The Silvermoon Court at the royal palace.
This was Princess Serena's favorite residence, filled with moonpetal flowers that emitted a cold, sweet fragrance. Serena herself was seated in an elegant pavilion, casually sipping tea. Though she appeared to be alone, a trained warrior could feel the presence of dozens of elite Royal Guards concealed in the shadows of the courtyard.
The crunch of boots on snow announced his arrival. Reno, draped in a worn black cloak, his greatsword at his side, walked into the beautiful but deadly courtyard.
"It has been a long time, my esteemed Knight Captain," Serena said with a false smile.
"Your Highness," Reno inclined his head, his demeanor respectful but not subservient.
"Please, sit," Serena gestured to the stone bench opposite her. "There is no need for such formality. I asked you here to discuss a proposition." She spoke of the kingdom's future, of her father's age and her sister's weakness. She offered him his old title, his old honor, everything he had lost, if only he would swear his sword to her.
It was a blatant attempt at recruitment.
Reno's face remained a stony mask. Finally, he looked up, his hawk-like eyes clear and unwavering. "My sword is sworn to the rightful crown and the honor of this kingdom. It will never be a tool for personal ambition. I thank you for the offer, Your Highness, but if that is all, I must take my leave."
He stood to go. The smile vanished from Serena's face, replaced by an icy killing intent.
"Foolish old man."
She whispered the words. Then, she did something Reno could never have anticipated. She ripped the collar of her own exquisite gown, exposing her pale shoulders, and let out a piercing scream.
"Help! Guards! Reno is trying to assault the Princess!"
The cry tore through the tranquil courtyard. In an instant, dozens of heavily armored guards swarmed from the shadows, surrounding him.
Reno stared at the shameless, pathetic display and froze. He had lived his life by a code of honor, never imagining he would be felled by such a vile and dirty accusation.
He began to laugh. A hollow, bitter laugh filled with despair and disappointment. "So... this is how it ends..."
Slowly, he unbuckled the greatsword from his waist and planted it in the snowy ground before him. He gave up. Not because he couldn't fight, but because his heart was dead. There was no honor left to fight for in this corrupt royal court.
"Kill him," Serena commanded, her voice as cold as the winter air.
Dozens of swords plunged into the legendary knight's body. Blood, starkly red against the white snow, bloomed from his wounds.
In his final moment, Reno, the "Raging Lion," turned his gaze to the west.
Towards the training grounds. Towards his only student. Towards his last hope.
...
At the West Training Grounds, Ethan stood in the blizzard, waiting. He waited from dusk until the dead of night. The path to the cabin remained empty.
His heart grew heavier with each passing hour, but he stubbornly refused to leave. He practiced the swinging drills his master had taught him, over and over again in the snow. *Maybe he was just delayed,* he thought. *He'll be happy to see me still training when he gets back.*
The snow fell harder, threatening to bury his lonely figure. Just as the cold was beginning to render him numb, he heard the sound of urgent footsteps. More than one person.
Joy surged in his chest. *He's back!* He looked up eagerly.
But it was Aila, Ron, and Buck, their faces etched with panic and grief.
"Ethan!" Aila's voice was a choked sob. She ran to him, tears streaming down her face as she saw the snow caked on his body.
"What are you still doing here? We have to go, now!" Ron urged.
"Where's the Master?" Ethan asked, the terrible feeling in his gut intensifying. "Is he back?"
The three of them fell silent.
"Say something!" Ethan grabbed Ron by the shoulders, shaking him. "Where is my Master?!"
"Ethan, calm down..." Ron's eyes were red. "There's... there's news from the palace..."
"Instructor Reno... he's..." Buck, the strongman of the group, choked on his words. "He's dead."
*Dead?*
The word struck Ethan like a bolt of lightning from a black sky, obliterating all thought.
"No... impossible..." he stammered, stumbling backward. "You're lying... The Master is too strong to die!"
"It's true, Ethan..." Aila finally broke down, collapsing into his arms in tears. "The palace has already posted the official notice... It says... it says Instructor Reno was executed on the spot... for attempting to assault Princess Serena..."
"Assault the Princess?"
Ethan went numb. He saw his master's stern, honorable face, his piercing eyes, the heavy weight of his final words. Humiliation, rage, grief, and a hatred so cold it burned like ice erupted from the depths of his soul.
*Cough—!*
A spray of blood burst from his lips, staining the pure white snow a shocking crimson.
He didn't cry. He didn't scream. His face was a terrifyingly calm, blank mask. He gently pushed Aila away, then slowly, deliberately, knelt in the snow. Facing the direction of the royal palace, the direction his master had gone, he bowed his head to the frozen ground. Once. Twice. Three times.
When he stood up again, the boy he had been was gone forever. His eyes were no longer filled with youthful confusion, only a deep, soul-freezing darkness.
*Serena...*
With a blade dipped in blood, he carved her name into his very soul.