On one of the kingdom's nights, a small boy no older than ten walked through the dark streets. His clothes were torn, and his face was dirty.
That boy was Kyle Draven.
As he walked, memories from the past returned to his mind…
---
Three years earlier – In the family temple
Seven-year-old Kyle stood before a massive statue of a man holding a sword.
Beside him stood an old monk, and behind him, his parents watched with eyes full of anticipation.
His mother said,
"Go on, Kyle… step forward."
Kyle hesitated, then walked up to the statue and placed his hand on the stone sword.
Everyone waited… but nothing happened.
The monk said coldly,
"Your son doesn't possess much magical energy. If he did, the statue would have glowed."
His mother shouted at the monk,
"This is wrong! Test him again!"
Kyle tried once more, placing his hand on the statue.
But the result was the same — no light.
The monk said firmly,
"This is clear proof. Your son's magical power is insufficient."
---
At the Draven family mansion
Kyle entered through the main gate with his parents.
Anger was written all over their faces.
Kyle walked up to his father and tugged at his sleeve innocently.
"Father… carry me on your back."
His father shouted furiously,
"Silence! You disgrace! You have the traits of the legendary child, yet you're nothing but a fraud! Red hair and green eyes… just a coincidence. You're a fake! Go to your room, now!"
Kyle ran off crying to his room.
---
The next day – In the garden
Kyle sat alone on a wooden bench.
When he looked back, he saw his parents playing with his younger brother.
They handed the boy a small sword as a gift.
Watching them, Kyle felt his heart tear apart.
---
Present – The forest
Kyle ran through the rain. His clothes were filthy, and his body was covered in wounds.
He stumbled and fell into the muddy ground.
Breathing heavily, he muttered,
"Looks like… this is my end."
He closed his eyes, ready to give up.
But suddenly, he felt a large shadow standing over him.
---
The next morning – A distant mountain
Kyle slowly opened his eyes.
He found himself lying on an old bed inside a small wooden cabin.
Looking at his hands in confusion, he whispered,
"Am I… dead?"
The door opened, and an old man entered, carrying a teapot and two cups.
He sat beside him calmly and said,
"You're awake. Feeling better now?"
Kyle replied,
"Yes… I feel much better… actually, my magic energy feels stronger! Did you do something to me?!"
The old man smiled.
"Relax. I didn't do anything strange. I only used healing magic."
Kyle's eyes widened.
"Healing magic?! That's an extremely rare spell!"
The old man chuckled.
"You're quite sharp. How do you know about magic types at such a young age?"
Kyle answered,
"I read about it in books."
"So you like reading," the old man said.
"That doesn't matter," Kyle snapped. "Who are you? And why did you save me?"
The old man set the cup down on the table.
"My name is Aldir Valen. I saved you because I was searching for a disciple to train before I die."
Kyle asked,
"A disciple? Why me?"
Aldir replied,
"You possess a unique kind of magical energy. Not much, but… different. That's enough."
Kyle lowered his head and muttered sadly,
"I'm just worthless trash. My family cast me out because my magic is weak."
Aldir smiled.
"I don't care what others think. What matters is that I need someone to inherit my techniques. Will you accept becoming my disciple?"
Kyle thought to himself,
'In this world… I have no family, no one who loves me. Then fine… I'll accept.'
He looked up firmly.
"I accept."
Aldir smiled warmly.
"Excellent. From this moment on, you're my disciple. We'll begin training tomorrow."
---
End of Chapter 1
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