The sun had barely risen when Captain Muller arrived at the doorstep of Leonhardt's home. His presence alone commanded attention, his armor still bearing the marks of battle.
Leonhardt opened the door, surprised by the sudden visit.
"You've got potential, kid," Muller said, crossing his arms. "That fight with the general—wasn't normal for someone like you."
Leonhardt tensed.
Muller continued, his eyes sharp. "Before this battle, you were barely holding your sword properly. And now? You're dodging killing blows and fighting like a veteran."
Leonhardt tried to remain neutral. "Maybe I just got lucky."
Muller smirked. "You and I both know that wasn't luck."
There was a pause before Muller leaned in slightly.
"I'm forming an elite unit. A squad made up of warriors with real talent. I want you in it."
Leonhardt's breath caught. He hadn't expected this.
"I'll give you time to think," Muller said, stepping back. "But make no mistake—this war is far from over."
And with that, he left, leaving Leonhardt alone with his thoughts.
—---
When Leonhardt stepped inside, Elly was already waiting.
"What did he want?" she asked, arms crossed.
Leonhardt hesitated before answering. "He wants me to join a special unit."
The air in the room changed instantly.
Elly's expression darkened. "You're not serious."
Leonhardt said nothing.
"You just came back, and now you want to leave again?!" she snapped, voice rising. "You almost died out there!"
Javier, sitting nearby, looked up. "That's so cool! You're gonna be in a special squad?"
Elly turned sharply toward him. "This isn't a game, Javier!"
Leonhardt sighed. "I haven't decided yet."
Amy, who had been silent the whole time, finally spoke. "You should rest first."
Her voice was calm, but Leonhardt could see the worry in her eyes.
—---
That night, Leonhardt sat outside, staring at the sky. The stars stretched endlessly above, but his thoughts remained trapped within his own mind.
This wasn't his life.
The name Leonhardt wasn't even his.
And yet, here he was—expected to make a choice.
Suddenly, footsteps approached.
Amy sat beside him, her presence quiet yet comforting.
"Javier told me you don't remember much," she said softly.
Leonhardt glanced at her but said nothing.
Amy looked at the stars. "Your father was a soldier, you know."
Leonhardt blinked.
"He was strong, kind… but war took him away." She sighed. "I was terrified when you said you wanted to fight. But I couldn't stop you."
Leonhardt listened, feeling something stir within him.
Amy turned to him. "I don't want to lose another person I love."
Leonhardt clenched his fists.
"But…" Amy's voice softened. "If this is truly what you want—then go. I won't hold you back."
Leonhardt exhaled.
It was the first time someone had given him a choice.
—---
Morning came.
Leonhardt stood before Captain Muller.
His heart was steady. His decision was made.
"I'll join your unit," he said firmly.
Muller smirked. "I figured you'd say that."
He turned. "Training starts tomorrow. Be ready."
As Muller walked away, Leonhardt looked at the rising sun.
A new path had opened before him.
Leonhardt arrived at the special training camp, an isolated area far from the usual battlefield. The dense forest surrounded the camp, creating an eerie silence filled with tension.
Before him stood four individuals—his new comrades, the elite warriors chosen for this unit.
Captain Muller, standing tall in the middle, gestured towards them.
"Meet your new team."
One by one, he introduced them:
"Alistair Vaughn", the veteran mage – An older man clad in deep purple robes, his sharp gaze carrying the weight of decades of knowledge.
"Garrick Holmgren", the defensive swordsman – A massive warrior, clad in heavy armor that looked impenetrable.
"Reiner Duskbane", the offensive swordsman – A short-haired fighter with a fierce expression, the type who lived for battle.
"Sylvaine von Nachtmaren", the assassin and strongest of the four – Dressed in all black, face hidden behind a cloth, exuding a presence that was both mysterious and deadly.
Leonhardt could feel the pressure radiating from them. These were not ordinary warriors—they were the best in their fields.
Muller turned his gaze to Leonhardt. "Starting today, these will be your comrades."
As training progressed, Leonhardt quickly noticed the vast gap between himself and them.
Alistair wielded magic with precision and deadly efficiency.
Garrick stood like an immovable fortress, impossible to break through.
Reiner attacked like an unstoppable storm, always pressing forward.
But the most dangerous among them was Sylvaine von Nachtmaren.
She was almost impossible to track. Every time Leonhardt thought he had her in sight, she had already disappeared.
After watching him struggle for a while, Sylvaine finally spoke, her tone cold and unimpressed.
"I don't believe you belong here."
She reached for her twin daggers, the gleam of the blades reflecting her sharp judgment.
"Prove yourself. Duel me."
Silence filled the camp.
Leonhardt smirked slightly. "Fine."
The duel began.
Sylvaine moved first—and in the blink of an eye, she vanished from Leonhardt's sight.
Leonhardt leaped backward, trying to track her movement.
Too fast!
A flash of silver—he barely managed to deflect the first strike.
Blow after blow followed, each faster and sharper than the last. Leonhardt was forced to stay on the defensive, waiting for an opening.
But—Sylvaine gave him none.
In a single, fluid motion, she was suddenly right behind him, her dagger nearly slicing his throat.
Leonhardt had only one option left—he poured all his strength into a desperate counterattack.
Leonhardt used all of his experience as Haruto to scan the next attack and the timing is close.....
His hand shot forward, trying to deflect her final blow—
—and accidentally grabbed the cloth covering her face.
The fabric tore away.
Everything fell silent.
Leonhardt froze.
In front of him stood a breathtakingly beautiful young woman, her raven-black hair cascading down her shoulders, and her piercing eyes locked onto him with an unreadable expression.
Sylvaine von Nachtmaren.
The most dangerous assassin in the unit—was a woman.
Leonhardt barely had time to react before the realization set in.
End of Chapter 4.