SAGISHI

Leon Thorne was the disgrace of his house, overweight, softspoken, and dismissed as a failure before he ever picked up a sword. Mocked during the Awakening and branded an F-rank, he was expected to fade quietly from the halls of power.

But he didn’t.

Because this wasn’t his first life.

In another timeline, Leon watched House Thorne fall, shamed, scattered and erased from history. Powerless to stop it then, he’s been given one chance to rewrite it now.

Stripped of excuses and reshaped by hardship, Leon claws his way forward—through blood, sweat and silence. Now, leaner and sharper, he enters an academy where only strength speaks and legacy decides your worth.

But Leon carries no crest. No backing. Just scars, a sword, and the will to shatter fate itself.

He’s not looking to be acknowledged or praised.
He’s going to rewrite everything.

NO MATTER WHAT IT TAKES.

From Deadbeat noble to Top Rank Swordsman

Thin, whispering flakes that melted on armour but clung to rooftops, railings, and the old banners of the Accord that hung from the tower archways. By morning, the fortress stood rimmed in white, a strange contrast to the red glow of the siege fires below.

Leon stood in the courtyard as the night shift of cadets rotated out. He didn't speak, didn't issue commands. Just watched. The snow muffled everything—boots, breath, thoughts.

Inside, Kellen spread new parchments across the war table. More envoys had sent word. The Azure Commons hadn't pledged, but they hadn't declined either. The Bastion of Nine kept silent. The Pale Choir sent only one word. Watching.

"They're testing us," Kellen muttered.

"They're waiting to see if we survive the first crack," Marien replied.

Leon entered just as Vastian stepped away from the vault.

Fortress of Blades