Ten years is a long time to chase a promise.
The city of Kure still looked the same from the outside — all neon signs, buzzing crosswalks, and convenience stores on every block — but for Arin Vyom, everything had changed. The boy who once lived in the servant quarters behind a hidden martial academy was no longer sweeping cherry blossoms from stone tiles.
He was climbing the mountain again — this time with a purpose.
The air was heavy with summer heat. His white shirt clung to his back, and his duffel strap dug into his shoulder, but he didn't complain. Not today.
The concrete beneath his feet gradually turned to old, uneven stone. The sounds of the city dimmed behind him as he walked up the narrow, half-forgotten staircase carved into the wooded hillside.
Each step whispered memories.
The courtyard.
The tree.
Her voice.
"If you ever get strong… I'll marry you."
It had been a joke, probably. A childhood tease from a girl who broke walls with her voice and hearts with her grin. But for Arin, it stuck. Like dust in the lungs. Like something sacred.
At the top of the hill stood a simple wooden gate.
Ordinary to most — maybe even old, worn down — but to Arin, it pulsed with power. A barrier of invisible energy shimmered around it, only perceptible if you had once lived behind it.
Tatsuro Academy.
To the public, it was just another elite private school — a place where rich kids studied business and bad fencing.
But beneath the uniform code and exam rankings lay something ancient.
This was where the world's hidden martial clans sent their heirs. This was where forgotten styles were reborn.
Where power was trained in silence, and war was taught beneath the skin of normalcy.
To get in, you had to be born into it.
Or break your way through.
Arin stood before the gate, heart beating fast. He wasn't from a clan. He had no spiritual legacy. Just his body, his borrowed training, and a promise made under a sakura tree.
He stepped forward.
The barrier flickered—
Then passed over him like water.
He was in.
High above, behind one of the third-floor windows, Akane Elune stood watching him.
She didn't blink.
Her long black hair was tied in a high braid, her training uniform pressed and immaculate. She looked every bit the rising legend of the academy — the Elune clan's spearhead, the pride of her generation.
But her fingers were trembling slightly.
"He really came back."
She'd waited. Quietly. Not always patiently.
When her clan said the boy was gone, she didn't believe them. When the academy listed its new applicants year after year and his name never showed, she stayed silent.
But today… the gate let him through.
She exhaled, just once.
Then she turned from the window, picked up her sword, and walked out of the room.
Down below, Arin stepped into the outer courtyard.
A dozen other applicants stood around him, some stretching, others checking their gear or whispering last-minute mantras. They were all older teens — some clearly from martial families, wearing clan symbols or traditional belts. A few even crackled faintly with spiritual pressure.
He swallowed and adjusted his duffel strap. No turning back now.
A man with a floral shirt, straw hat, and a half-eaten popsicle stepped onto a raised platform at the edge of the courtyard. He looked like he belonged at a beach, not a martial academy.
"Yo," the man called out. "Welcome to the Tatsuro Academy Martial Entrance Trials. Congratulations, you're now one step away from either becoming elite… or going home in an ambulance."
Nervous laughter.
Arin didn't laugh.
"Rules are simple," the man continued. "We take you up to the Trial Grounds. You survive a little obstacle course. You prove you've got what it takes. If you cry, scream, or cheat, we will know. There is no mercy. This is the martial world, not a prep school for spoon-fed brats."
A few students straightened up.
One girl fainted.
Arin just clenched his fists tighter.
You kept your promise, Akane. Now it's my turn.
From the shadows of the old bell tower, another pair of eyes locked onto Arin.
He didn't notice her. No one did.
But she noticed everything.
She watched how he stood — not in fear, but in readiness. She felt his breath, steady despite the pressure in the air. She even noticed the faint trace of tension in his fingers — the kind born from years of practice, not just nerves.
You've grown, Akane thought.
But are you strong enough for me yet?
She would find out soon enough.
And if not?
Well… she could always kidnap him until he improved.