Another morning

As the first light of dawn stretched across the medieval city of Silivia, the sky remained a brilliant canvas of blue, its clarity undisturbed by storm or shadow. Wisps of clouds drifted lazily, while the golden sun cast its warm embrace over the city’s towering stone walls and bustling streets.

Within the heart of the city, at a vast training field, the rhythmic clang of steel echoed through the crisp morning air. Soldiers engaged in rigorous training, the majority being low-ranking recruits, while a few seasoned warriors—superior officers—observed their progress.

Among them stood Marcus, a commanding presence in the Royal Guard of Silivia. A general known not only for his tactical brilliance but for his relentless and unforgiving approach to training. He demanded nothing less than perfection, both from himself and those under his command.

“Alright!” Marcus barked, his sharp gaze sweeping across the recruits. “After this warm-up, grab your swords! You’ll be practicing your one-handed combat skills!”

A brief moment passed, and soon the field erupted into a flurry of movement. Soldiers clashed steel against steel, honing their ability to block, counter, and strike with precision. The training was grueling, focused on sharpening both defense and offense in equal measure.

Amidst the rigorous drills, Noah, one of Marcus’s trusted men, approached.

“Marcus, any updates?” Noah inquired.

Marcus, arms crossed, observed the soldiers before responding. “Not for now… Is the perimeter outside Silivia clear?”

Noah nodded. “Yes. Everything’s secure. We’re expecting a group of adventurers to arrive soon. Ethan, Caleb, and Owen are assigned to escort them.”

Marcus's expression remained unreadable. “And what about Connor? I didn’t see him this morning.”

“Connor left on patrol two days ago,” Noah replied. “He hasn’t returned yet, but he should be bringing back some resources when he does.”

Marcus exhaled, his focus momentarily shifting. “Alright… Keep me informed.”

“Understood.”

With that, Noah turned and made his way toward the towering walls of Silivia. He navigated through the stone corridors and ascended the battlements, joining the watchful sentries patrolling the city’s defenses.

Meanwhile, Marcus remained with the recruits, his sharp commands cutting through the air like a blade.

“Liam! Move faster!”

“Aiden! Be more aggressive!”

“Tyler! Don’t forget to parry!”

“Dylan, Jake! Remember to block—defense is just as crucial as attack!”

“Jackson! Fix your stance!”

“And Mason—keep up the good work!”

The training continued, sweat and determination fueling every strike, every movement. In Silivia, discipline and strength were forged in the fires of relentless training, for only the strongest could defend the kingdom when the time came.

After hours of relentless training, exhaustion finally caught up with the low-ranking soldiers. Their movements slowed, their breath came in ragged gasps, and their once-precise strikes grew sluggish under the weight of fatigue. One by one, they began to falter, sweat dripping from their brows as their bodies screamed for rest.

Marcus observed them in silence before finally relenting.

“…Alright,” he muttered. “I’ll give you an hour to rest. Don’t waste your time.”

Some soldiers remained where they stood, hands on their knees as they struggled to catch their breath. Others dragged themselves away, shoulders slumped, their bodies aching from the grueling intensity of the training.

Among them, Dylan and Jake walked together, speaking in hushed tones, their conversation shifting between idle chatter and reflections on their fighting styles. Their discussions were filled with thoughts of offense—how they attacked, how they could have struck harder, how their opponents had defended against them.

Eventually, their feet carried them to a familiar bar, its wooden sign swaying gently in the breeze. Inside, the atmosphere was lively but not overcrowded. The scent of cooked meat and spiced ale filled the air, mingling with the low hum of conversation. Soldiers of different ranks sat at scattered tables, their armor glinting in the dim light. A few travelers and merchants occupied the space as well, taking a brief respite before continuing their trades and dealings.

Dylan and Jake scanned the room for an open seat, but nearly every table was full. Their search ended at the far side of the bar, near a window, where a lone figure sat. He was a young man with yellow hair and piercing blue eyes, dressed in the simple attire of a low-rank member of the Phoenix Alliance Clan—a faction that resided near the castle and capital of Silivia.

Ignoring him, the two soldiers finally spotted an empty table nearby and sat down. A short moment later, a waiter approached to take their order.

“I’ll have the usual,” Dylan said without hesitation.

“I’ll try the sushi fish, but fried,” Jake added.

The waiter nodded, repeating their choices. “One spicy breakfast, and one fried sushi. I’ll bring your plates soon.”

With a slight bow, he turned and disappeared into the kitchen.

Dylan leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. “Do you think Marcus really prefers balance over takedowns?”

Jake shrugged. “Maybe. He seems more focused on holding position than going on the offensive, but I don’t get why. If you attack well enough, you get the upper hand. Look at me and Tyler—he barely did anything but block against me.”

Dylan scoffed. “Yeah… Mason gave me a hard time, though. I swear he’s Marcus’s favorite.”

“Probably,” Jake admitted. “But who knows? Maybe he’s just naturally skilled. Or maybe he’s been through enough to know what he’s doing.”

Dylan’s gaze drifted toward the man in Phoenix attire. He narrowed his eyes slightly, leaning in toward Jake and lowering his voice.

“I thought Marcus said the entire Phoenix Clan was wiped out… Did that guy just find and steal their clothes?”

Jake shot him a look. “What are you talking about? Are you out of your mind? Marcus only said there was a chance they were all dead. But obviously, one of them survived. Did you forget?”

Dylan blinked, then exhaled sharply. “Oh… Yeah. I… totally forgot.”

Jake sighed, shaking his head. “Dylan, you really need to start thinking before you open your mouth. Let’s just hope you eat soon before you do something stupid… again.”

Dylan scowled. “Not my fault I don’t think straight when I’m hungry…”

After a long wait, the waiter finally returned, carefully balancing two plates in his hands.

"Here you go, sirs," he said, placing the meals down. "The spicy breakfast and the fried sushi. Is there anything else you may need?"

Dylan and Jake exchanged a brief glance before turning back to the waiter.

"No, thanks," Jake replied.

"No, that was all," Dylan added.

With a nod, the waiter stepped away, moving toward another table where a group of customers had just called for him.

Time passed as the two soldiers ate in comfortable silence, savoring their meals. Once they finished, they left a payment of fifteen gold coins on the table and stood up, ready to leave.

As they stepped outside, they noticed other patrons filtering out of the bar as well, their morning routines resuming. Among them was the man in the low-rank Phoenix attire, his expression unreadable as he disappeared into the crowd.

Jake glanced at the sky and frowned. "Dylan, what time is it?"

Dylan looked up, gauging the position of the sun. "I’d say… probably ten?"

Jake’s face lit up with an idea. "We should go to the Statue of the Light Angel. Maybe this time, we’ll actually get to see the Angel Guardian of Silivia up close."

Dylan nodded. "Yeah, that’d be nice. So far, we’ve only caught glimpses—his wings, his armor, his halo… But if we get there early enough, we might finally see him clearly today."

Without wasting time, they set off, their pace steady as they moved through the city streets. After a long walk, they reached the grand statue, standing in the front row among the gathering crowd.

Before them, carved from stone, was the towering figure of a knight, his form imposing yet majestic. He held nothing in his hands, but his grip was poised, as if awaiting the sword meant to complete his image.

Jake exhaled in amazement. "I can’t believe we got here before anyone else!"

Dylan rolled his eyes. "Yeah, but stop acting like an excited kid. We’re here to see him up close, not to gawk like tourists."