The night air was cold, carrying the scent of damp earth and the faint traces of smoke from small fires lit by the homeless. The dark alleys of the slums were eerily quiet, except for the hurried footsteps of a young man desperately trying to escape.
Leon Ashford ran as fast as he could, his breath heavy, his body screaming in exhaustion. His worn-out boots barely held together as they pounded against the uneven cobblestone streets.
Behind him, three large men dressed in dark clothing chased after him with determined expressions.
Bounty hunters.
Leon didn't know why they were after him, but he was certain of one thing, if they caught him, he wouldn't live to see the sunrise.
"Damn it!" he cursed under his breath, dodging a pile of trash as he turned into another alleyway. His heart pounded furiously in his chest. He wasn't a fighter. He wasn't strong. He had no weapons, no skills, nothing.
All he had was his will to survive.
But willpower alone wouldn't save him now.
The alley he had turned into was a dead end.
Leon's eyes widened in horror as he came to a sudden stop, staring at the tall, cracked brick wall in front of him. He spun around, desperately searching for another way out, but there was none.
The three men slowly entered the alley, their heavy footsteps echoing ominously in the silence.
"Well, well," one of them sneered, cracking his knuckles. "No more running, kid."
Leon took a step back until his back was pressed against the cold wall. His fingers curled into fists. He didn't know how to fight, but he wouldn't go down without trying.
"Who sent you?" he demanded, trying to keep his voice steady.
The tallest of the three men, a brute with a scar running down his left cheek, grinned. "You ask too many questions. Just come with us quietly, and maybe we won't break too many bones."
Leon's heart pounded harder. His body was already exhausted from running. If they attacked him now, he wouldn't stand a chance.
Then, something strange happened.
A sudden warmth spread through his chest, like fire burning beneath his skin. It wasn't painful, but it was… overwhelming. His fingers twitched, his pulse quickened, and then—
A low hum filled the air.
The bounty hunters hesitated, their expressions shifting from amusement to confusion.
"What the hell is that?" one of them muttered.
Leon didn't know. But he felt it.
Something inside him was waking up.
The warmth in his chest intensified, flowing through his veins like liquid fire. His vision blurred for a moment before sharpening, his senses suddenly heightened. The cold night air felt sharper against his skin. He could hear the distant sound of a rat scurrying in the shadows.
And his body, his weak, ordinary body, felt different.
Stronger.
More… alive.
The bounty hunter with the scar took a cautious step forward. "Oi, kid. What the hell are you—"
Before he could finish, Leon moved.
Faster than he ever had in his life.
He didn't think. His body just reacted.
He sidestepped the man's incoming punch, ducking low and slamming his elbow into his ribs. The impact sent the larger man stumbling backward, coughing in pain.
Leon's eyes widened.
"Did I just… do that?"
The other two men cursed and rushed toward him. Leon barely had time to react before the second bounty hunter, a bald man with thick arms, swung a fist at his face.
Leon dodged again, too fast, and countered with a kick to the side of the man's knee. The bounty hunter yelped as his leg buckled, sending him crashing to the ground.
The third man, wielding a dagger, lunged forward. Leon had no time to think. His body moved on instinct.
As the blade came toward him, his right hand shot up—
And caught the dagger.
Leon blinked.
The bounty hunter stared in shock.
The dagger's blade was inches away from Leon's palm, stopped by an invisible force. A faint, red light shimmered around his fingers, holding the weapon in place.
"What the—" the bounty hunter gasped.
Leon didn't wait for an explanation. He twisted the man's wrist, forcing him to drop the dagger, then delivered a powerful punch to his gut. The impact sent the man flying backward, crashing into the alley wall with a loud thud.
Silence.
Leon stood there, panting heavily. His hands trembled, but not from fear—from adrenaline.
He had never fought like that before. He had never moved like that before.
"What… what just happened?" he whispered.
The bounty hunters groaned on the ground, too injured to get up.
Then—
A slow clap echoed through the alley.
Leon's body tensed. He turned toward the sound and saw a figure standing in the shadows.
An old man with silver hair and piercing eyes stepped forward. His long, dark robe swayed slightly with the wind.
"Impressive," the man said, his voice calm and deep. "You lasted longer than I expected."
Leon narrowed his eyes. "Who are you?"
The old man smiled. "Someone who has been watching you for quite some time."
Leon's fingers clenched into fists. "Did you send these guys after me?"
The old man chuckled. "No, but their arrival made things more interesting." He reached into his robe and pulled out a golden scroll with an unfamiliar emblem.
"Leon Ashford," he said, holding out the scroll. "You have been chosen."
Leon stared at the scroll. His heart pounded—not with fear, but with unease.
"Chosen for what?" he asked cautiously.
The old man's gaze remained steady.
"To join Martial Haven Academy."
Leon's breath hitched.
He had heard of Martial Haven Academy before. Everyone had.
It was the most prestigious fighting academy in the world, a place where only the strongest warriors, assassins, and mages were trained.
But it was not a place for someone like him.
"I think you have the wrong person," Leon said, shaking his head. "I'm just—"
"A boy from the slums?" the old man interrupted. "Perhaps. But you are also something more."
Leon hesitated. The warmth in his chest was still there, pulsing like a second heartbeat. He had felt it awaken when he fought.
And that scared him.
"Why me?" he asked.
The old man smiled. "Because, Leon Ashford—"
His eyes gleamed with something unreadable.
"You are not ordinary."
Leon swallowed hard. His hands trembled slightly as he reached for the golden scroll.
The moment his fingers touched it—
A burst of energy surged through his body, sending a sharp shock through his veins.
Leon gasped.
His vision blurred for a split second, and in that moment—
He saw something.
A battlefield.
A sky filled with fire.
And himself, standing in the middle of it all, holding a sword bathed in crimson light.
Then—
Darkness.
Leon staggered back, panting heavily. He clutched the scroll tightly in his hands, his mind racing.
The old man watched him with a knowing smile.
"Welcome to Martial Haven Academy, Leon," he said.
"Your journey begins now."