In the kingdom of Daxin, on the sole continent of Waldora, dawn marked the arrival of a new day, and with it, the arrival of a new life. A pair of eyes opened in the world, and the silence of the early morning was soon broken by joyful cries. The atmosphere of celebration filled the grand palace as nobles and servants alike appraised the king for the birth of his third child.
Among the joyous crowd stood a towering figure, a man whose very presence overshadowed everyone around him—the greatest swordsman ever seen in the glorious kingdom of Daxin. Ryan Crimson, the strongest blade on the continent, entered the room. The moment he stepped in, a heavy silence descended upon the crowd. His aura alone was enough to stifle the jubilant mood, a force of nature that commanded respect and awe.
The head of the Crimson family approached the bedside where his wife lay, holding their newborn child. The atmosphere shifted once more, but this time it was filled with reverence and anticipation. As Ryan stood by his wife's side, the head butler, a trusted servant who had served the family for decades, respectfully stepped forward.
"My lord," the butler said, bowing deeply. "It is time. What name shall we bestow upon the young master?"
Ryan gazed down at the small bundle in his wife's arms, his stern face softened ever so slightly. His eyes held a mixture of pride and deep contemplation. The future of the Crimson family rested on this child, born into a lineage of legendary swordmasters.
With a deep breath, Ryan spoke with a voice as sharp and commanding as the blade he wielded.
"His name shall be... Luke Crimson."
Ryan's voice echoed through the room, and the name "Luke Crimson" resonated with those present. The crowd of nobles and servants stood in awe, understanding the weight of the name. This child, though newborn, was already destined to carry the legacy of the Crimson Blades—a lineage renowned for producing swordmasters of unparalleled skill.
Ryan took Luke gently from his wife's arms, holding his son in his massive hands. He gazed down at the infant, a rare softness flickering across his otherwise stoic face. His wife, Elara Crimson, smiled weakly, exhausted from the birth but content. Her delicate hand reached up to touch Ryan's arm.
"Ryan, our child... I can feel it. He will be great, just like his siblings."
The mention of Luke's older siblings, Rika and Gorge, brought a momentary silence. Rika, the Sword Saintess, had already made a name for herself as the kingdom's finest warrior, surpassing even the most seasoned knights. Gorge, known as the Wild Sword, possessed a raw, untamed strength that struck fear into the hearts of Daxin's enemies. Luke would have much to live up to.
But unknown to all, the future would not unfold as they expected. The path ahead for Luke would be unlike any Crimson before him.
As Ryan handed Luke back to Elara, the head butler spoke once more. "Shall I prepare the formal announcement of the young master's birth to the kingdom, my lord?"
Ryan nodded. "Yes. Let the kingdom know that another Crimson has been born."
As the butler swiftly left the room to carry out his orders, the weight of expectation loomed over the newborn. Though his eyes were barely open, Luke was already being watched by forces far beyond the realm of the kingdom. His birth was just the beginning of a long and tumultuous journey—one that would eventually lead to both glory and tragedy.