Prologue

Lucas.

The dimly lit room was thick with the smell of whiskey and worn leather. I sat across from Yamamoto, his black hair and piercing eyes a stark contrast to my disheveled locks and weary gaze.

"You want me to take in those Outskirts brats?" I asked, incredulous.

Yamamoto nodded, his expressionless face a mask I'd grown accustomed to over the years.

"Yes," he said, his voice flat.

I glared at him. "Why not take them in yourself? Your Division's bursting with high-potential recruits anyway."

Yamamoto sipped his drink nonchalantly. "My Division's full. Yours has room."

I frowned "My Division isn't a babysitting service."

"Neither is mine."

"So take them, you're the one recommending them."

"No thanks, they will do better in your Division."

We sat quietly, I glared at him. He quietly enjoyed his drink not bothered by the glare piercing him.

 "Fine," I relented. "But these kids better not annoy me."

I chuckled at the documents Yamamoto handed me, raising an eyebrow. "Ambitious, aren't they? One wants to be the greatest Knight, another the strongest Swordsman, and the third… unknown."

Yamamoto's gaze remained steady. "They have potential. And they need guidance."

"From the Outskirts, they're already at a disadvantage," I countered.

Yamamoto shrugged. "If they can't handle that, then it's my mistake."

I slouched in my chair, cynical. "They all come with high hopes, only to quit when reality hits."

Kenji Kimura's dream of becoming the greatest knight made me sigh. The Division Knights are the elites, protecting the Empire from bandits, enemy kingdoms, and beasts.

"These brats better not waste my time, Yama," I warned.

Yamamoto's faint smile emerged. "You need the exercise, friend."

I clicked my tongue, draining my drink. I need better friends, I thought, pouring another cup.

As the night wore on, the whiskey blurred the lines between camaraderie and obligation. But there was one feeling that came on:

My days are going to be more annoying as soon as those brats arrive.