And just like that, two years flew by. Every single night (well, except for conference nights), I'd sneak into that secret room and study till dawn. Then, when I was completely drained, I'd just lie down on the floor, pretending it was some kind of bed.
Of course, getting back into my crib was a whole other challenge. I mean, who designed that thing? A fortress builder? It's basically a prison cell for babies! So, yeah… I'd just crash on the floor and wait for morning, hoping no one would notice my little "study routine." Well… everything changed one night. And when I say dramatically, I mean a full 180° shift (almost literally).
One night, I totally forgot to check if it was a conference night. Oops. But hey, I was getting confident—actually walking now, not just crawling. So there I was, sneaking my way down the hall and slipping into the room as usual.
I got right to work, flipping through books, reading one after another, totally absorbed. I didn't even notice the soft murmur of voices getting closer... Not sure how long I'd been in there, but definitely a few hours had passed—at least two or three. I was actually starting to feel sleepy.
So I closed the book, stretched a little, and turned toward the door… only to realize it was open. Wasn't that supposed to be closed?
(Creekkkkk…)
I peeked out, and—(stare!)(STARE!)
There they were. Every single maid.My parents.All of them, watching from outside with these wide-eyed expressions. At that age, I'd managed to speak… sort of. Broken words, a bit of "baby English," but hey, it worked.
"Helow?"
"Brat," Grandpa's voice was thunderous. "Can you explain to me—"
"Everyone get lost!!"
And just like that, the crowd scattered, even the insects seemed to vanish, leaving just me and Grandpa.
He crossed his arms, looking down at me with that signature stare. "Ahem… brat, tell me. What exactly were you doing at this hour?"
"G… Grand… grandfather…"
"*Answer!* What were you doing in here?!"
"I… I… I was reading magic books…" (Cue the waterworks. *Sob sob*—yep, the tears started to flow).
"B… Brat… I didn't hit you, did I?" (*More tears*)
Yeah… this was my real problem. Fighting someone or something? Sure, I'd be fine. But these *emotions*? That was a whole different battle. Whenever Grandpa spoke in that booming, intense voice, I'd get all shaky, like my whole system went into "danger mode."
And, of course, it had to be *him*—my own *grandfather.*
"Tch, come with me, brat…" Grandpa's voice rumbled as he grabbed my hand firmly.
And then—*swish!* Before I even knew what was happening, he tossed me… somewhere. For a second, I thought it was the garbage, but then… *kyuuu!* Heaven? It was a mountain of blankets and pillows, softer than anything I'd ever felt.
"Listen, brat," Grandpa said, his tone dead serious, "I don't know what you've been sneaking off to study in there, but you can't be running around all night like that."
"*Tch...* You better be ready for the consequences..." Grandpa muttered, giving me that look.
Wait—what? Consequences??
---
Study Time!
This world has five main continents, each with a unique energy focus: Mana, Ki, Yin, Yang, and finally, Holy. We live in the Ki continent.
At first, I thought this place would only have mana-based magic, but nope—it has an entire Ki system. Turns out, Ki isn't just for swordsmanship and martial arts. It's a whole different kind of magic here, though with fewer spells. Instead, they've got "fighting styles"—techniques unique to Ki that go beyond spells.
Fighting styles are unique movements or tactics used in hand-to-hand combat, refined to a near art form. Every clan—each family with its own proud legacy—has a distinct style. And at the top of them all is the legendary Ryūken Clan. They were once known as the mightiest clan to ever exist, with a history unmatched by any other.
Books say that nearly all members of the Ryūken Clan were executed long ago to prevent any potential threats from them. Yet, supposedly, Some of their last descendants still lives. Those figure are said to be one of the reasons the Ki Continent remains secure to this day. Intriguingly, nearly every book about Ki, Mana, Yin, and the other energies has the same author stamped on it: S. Ryūken.
Coincidence? Really? That an old, dusty room like that would hold books penned by a living legend? Was S. Ryūken just a pen name? No…it couldn't be. A legendary warrior abandoning his sword to become a writer? That just didn't sit right with me.
Morning…
(Thud!) The door slammed open.
"Brat, wake up!" Grandpa's voice boomed.
I scrambled up immediately. That wasn't a request—it was an order. Standing to attention, I watched as he snapped his fingers, and two maids entered.
One maid carried a basket filled with toys, dolls, and other things a typical two-year-old might like. The other carried… another basket. But this one held something way more interesting: a small training sword. A soft sword, they called it—a kid-safe practice blade used for learning basic kendo moves. (Think of it like those swords from Shinchan—yes, I'm practically a walking anime reference).
And in that basket, along with the little sword, was something else—a full-body training outfit. It covered everything but my face, which had a protective mask made of some tough plastic or other material.
Grandpa held the baskets up and said, "So, brat... what'll it be? The games, or…"
"Grandpa, please!" I practically jumped, eyes glued to the training gear. "Can I have the second one?!"
He raised an eyebrow, a smirk creeping across his face. "Oh? Are you sure, brat?" He held up one of the toys, letting it catch the light, as if to tempt me. "You're saying you'd rather have this old, ugly sword instead of these precious toys? This thing might even hurt you, you know."
The nerve! He knew exactly what he was doing.
I wasn't stupid. I'd read enough books to know that those toys were absolutely useless in the grand scheme of things. They wouldn't help me become stronger, faster, or smarter. I needed real training, not some distractions.
Grandpa's face twitched for a moment—like he'd just pooped after holding it in for 50 years. He blinked, staring at me with wide eyes.
"Brat... You... you have quite the high intelligence," he muttered under his breath, clearly surprised.
His voice was almost like a reluctant compliment, and I could tell it wasn't something he was used to saying. Well, I wasn't about to let it go to my head. Not yet, anyway.