Under a Forgotten Name

The sun had barely risen on the horizon, painting the sky in soft shades of amber and pale blue. A light morning breeze danced through the trees, carrying the scent of damp earth and fresh leaves. After a quiet night at the village inn, Leonar slowly opened his eyes, his body rested, but his mind still weighed down with thoughts.

The lingering heat of his battle against the panther still pulsed in his memory. He was stronger now, yes, but also more committed to the path he had chosen.

He sat at the edge of the wooden bed and stretched his arms, watching how the faint light of dawn caressed his skin. His muscles were now more defined, each fiber charged with power accumulated from absorbing the essence of the universe. The body that had once been weak and battered now resembled that of a young warrior forged in fire and shadow.—"There's no turning back..." —he murmured.

With a thought, he dismissed the Iron Hawk Armor. A dark blue glow enveloped his body before the armor dissolved into particles of light that were absorbed into his chest. He felt as if a part of him had entered a temporary slumber, awaiting his call.

He headed to the small bathroom the inn provided—a modest wooden cubicle with a tub filled with water heated by hot stones. He slowly submerged himself, feeling the warmth embrace his body, relaxing tense muscles and washing away the dried blood that still clung to his skin.

While cleaning himself, his reflection in the water caught his attention.Leonar's eyes were still the same, but there was a new intensity in them. His features were sharper, his shoulders broader. Even his posture had changed—straighter, more confident.

He remembered how, back on Earth, he had trained relentlessly in martial arts to protect himself. But here… here that effort took a different shape. It was no longer enough to strike. Here, he needed power. Armors. Knowledge.

After a while, he left the bath wearing fresh, simple clothes he had found in his backpack—the only belonging left from his former "self." He made his way to the inn's main tavern, where breakfast was already being served to the guests.

A crusty piece of bread, scrambled eggs, and a hot infusion were placed before him by a young girl with braided hair. He thanked her with a slight nod and began to eat, letting the calm atmosphere of the place wash over him.

That's when he heard the voices.—"Did you hear about the bastard from House Déragan? They say he died during a hunt… a wild beast tore him to pieces."—"Not surprising... they always said he was useless, unable to awaken an armor. A disgrace to the family."—"Yeah, the nobility covered up the details. They buried him in the forest, no ceremony at all."

Leonar stopped with his spoon halfway to his mouth.His heart skipped a beat—not from fear, but from the surge of rage that invaded him.So that was the plan… erase me without a trace.

He clenched his fists tightly but took a deep breath to calm himself. He couldn't act impulsively. His "death" was an advantage. His despicable half-brothers didn't know he had survived. The system, his body, his strength… everything had aligned to give him the chance to rise from the shadows.

And besides, his physical appearance had changed. His face, though similar, was firmer, more mature. Combined with the fact that Leonar had rarely been seen at social events, it was unlikely anyone would recognize him easily. That will play in my favor... he thought.

He finished his breakfast in silence and stepped outside, covering himself with a grayish cloak with a hood, further concealing his identity.

The village square was beginning to fill. Merchants shouted their offers, children ran between stalls, and the sound of an improvised flute filled the air with a simple but cheerful rhythm. It was a more peaceful place than he had imagined, though in every shadow, he perceived the potential for danger.

He walked aimlessly, observing everything around him. There was a small temple in the center of the village, dedicated to some minor deity of the universe. Several people were leaving offerings: flowers, fruits, even broken pieces of armor, as symbols of respect.

Leonar stopped to observe a stone statue carved in the shape of a knight with outstretched wings. It vaguely reminded him of his Hawk Armor. An ancient voice echoed in his mind: "Armors are not just tools, they are manifestations of the soul."

He continued his walk and found a blacksmith's workshop. The heat of the fire could be felt from the entrance. A man with thick arms was hammering a blade with rhythmic precision.—"Looking for something, young man?" —he asked without looking up.

Leonar shook his head, but his eyes carefully studied the displayed items. There were small pieces of armor, custom blades designed to complement armor sets, and even accessories that could be integrated into magical designs. It was a world full of secrets yet to be discovered.

When the sun was already at its highest point, a mental notification interrupted his walk.

[New Mission from the Celestial System!]Side Mission Activated:"Hide your true identity for the next 7 days."Reward: 4 Celestial Points.Penalty: Forced activation of the family tracker.

Leonar froze in place.—"So I have to play smart too..." —he murmured with an ironic smile.

The power games of the nobility were cruel. But now he had a system, an armor… and a will of iron.It was time to plan carefully.

After receiving the new mission from the system, Leonar continued walking, this time with greater caution. He observed more than before. The glances of merchants, the murmurs between customers, the guards patrolling the area with gleaming armor and emblems of minor houses. He wasn't in a big city, but the village had an organized structure, and due to its strategic location near the forest, it served as a resting point for beast hunters and explorers.

He hid beneath his hood and took a seat on a small wooden bench by the plaza, where he could watch without drawing too much attention. In front of him, a young man haggled over the price of a dagger while a woman tried to sell him protective amulets against "possessed beasts."

The system had remained silent after launching the mission, but Leonar didn't need it to stay alert. His instinct—shaped through beatings and betrayal—kept him on guard. He knew the next few days would be crucial.

"Hide your identity for seven days…"

That sentence weighed on him like a blade hanging over his neck. It wasn't a simple task. He couldn't just stay hidden indoors. He also couldn't afford to draw attention. But at the same time… he couldn't afford to stay still.

If I stop growing, if I stop moving forward… they'll surpass me again.

And this time, there won't be a second chance.

With that thought in mind, he rose from the bench and walked into an alley that led to a quieter part of the village. There, the buildings were lower, made of stone and wood, and the streets were partially covered by hanging canopies that created a rustic tunnel-like atmosphere.

It was in one of those side streets that he found something unexpected: a shop of magical objects.

A hanging sign displayed an ancient rune carved into a wooden plaque. In the window, small crystals, sealed scrolls, and potions with mysterious hues decorated the space.

Leonar gently pushed the door open, and a small bell rang inside. The smell of incense and old dust enveloped him instantly. An elderly woman, her white hair tied in a bun and eyes the color of stormy skies, greeted him with a faint smile.

"Welcome, traveler. Are you looking for protection, knowledge… or revenge?"

Leonar tensed for a moment. But then he realized her words were part of a memorized introduction.

"Just browsing," he replied calmly.

"They always say that," the old woman muttered as she walked back behind the counter.

He wandered between the shelves. His gaze stopped on a small black crystal, so dark it seemed to absorb the light around it. Next to it, a note in irregular lettering read:

"Echo Fragment. Can amplify the voice of repressed thoughts."

"How reliable is this?" he asked.

"That depends on the soul who uses it. Some use it to speak with the dead… others to uncover truths they'd rather not hear."

Leonar placed the crystal back. He had enough voices in his head already.

After browsing a little more, he bought a small cloak reinforced with thin metal fibers. Nothing that would make him stand out, but useful in case of a surprise attack. He also found a more detailed map of the region, which included hidden routes through the forested and mountainous areas. He added it to his backpack without hesitation.

Once outside, he noticed the sky was slowly clouding over. Gray clouds stretched above like omens of an approaching storm. The weather seemed to reflect his own situation: a momentary calm before chaos.

He returned to the inn just as the drizzle began. Inside, some travelers were sharing tales while others drank to forget. Leonar sat in a dark corner near the fireplace and pulled out the newly acquired map. He unrolled it carefully over the table and began mentally tracing his possible training route for the coming days.

His finger paused over a marked area called "Ruins of Trenn'Kai." According to the notes, it was an ancient settlement of fallen warriors from the Era of the Broken Moons. A place crawling with savage creatures… and sometimes, forgotten fragments of cursed armors.

"Interesting…" he murmured.

In his mind, the system reacted with a faint glow.

[Area of Interest Detected: Ruins of Trenn'Kai]Estimated Risk: ModerateProbability of Encounter:• Armor Fragments (Low)• Beast Core (Medium)• Hostile Bearer (Unknown)

That last part made him frown. Hostile Bearer? Another armor user?

He gripped the map tighter. It could be his first real confrontation… not against a beast, but someone like him. Another warrior. Another knight. Maybe even someone who could reveal more about this world.

That night, while the rain tapped against the windows, Leonar climbed the stairs to his room with steady steps. He sat beside the bed, crossed his legs, and began to meditate.

He hadn't done it since arriving in this world, but the habit calmed him. He visualized his core, his bond with the Hawk Armor. A thread of deep blue energy pulsed within him—latent, growing.

"I still have to grow more. A lot more."

[…]

A fleeting memory crossed his mind. His mother. Her warm smile, her calloused hands from a lifetime of labor, her sweet voice singing old lullabies to him when he was a child.

She had died without justice, without dignity. The Déragan family never acknowledged her. To them, she was just a servant who had made the mistake of falling for the wrong man. They erased her as if she had never existed—and now, they wanted to erase him too.

Leonar clenched his jaw.

"Not just for me… but for her," he whispered softly.

"I won't let the Déragan family continue their hypocrisy. They don't deserve that name… and I'll rip it out from the root."

He rose from the bed and walked to the window. Outside, the rain was still falling. But inside his chest, something burned like a fire that refused to die.

"I'll make them pay for everything they've done. One by one."