The Igniseros family's castle stood proud upon a sunlit hill — its white stone walls gleaming with golden trims that caught the morning light. Banners of crimson and ivory danced gently from tall spires, each one bearing the insignia of the Igniseros crest — a flaming phoenix soaring through a radiant halo. Behind the castle, through the vast courtyards and marble archways, lay the training grounds — a broad expanse of stone and sand that stretched toward the edge of a tranquil forest.
The area was simple but grand in its own way — the circular arena marked by runic symbols that shimmered faintly under the sun. Around it stood racks filled with sparring weapons, practice dummies made of enchanted steel, and a few broken pillars that told tales of past duels. A faint breeze carried the scent of grass and scorched mana, while the distant sound of flowing water from a nearby fountain blended with the hum of crackling magic.
At the center of this field, two figures stood locked in a fiery dance of combat.
One was a young woman with ethereal white hair that shimmered like moonlight, golden eyes glinting with calm amusement. Her name — Seris Igniseros, eldest of the Igniseros siblings. Her stance was elegant yet effortless, a faint smile resting upon her lips as she raised her hand gracefully. Behind her, dozens of weapons made of radiant light — swords, spears, daggers — hovered in the air like loyal soldiers awaiting her command.
Facing her was a girl with fiery red hair tied into a messy ponytail, emerald-green eyes gleaming with stubborn determination — Elizabeth Igniseros, her younger sister. She was breathing heavily, sweat beading on her forehead as she tried to hold her ground under Seris's relentless assault. The barrage of luminous weapons came crashing down like a storm of stars, leaving trails of light across the sky.
"Damn it, big sis! Can't you go a little easier on me?" Elizabeth shouted, gritting her teeth.
She slammed both palms onto the ground, and with a resonating thud, the earth beneath her trembled. In an instant, a massive wall of stone surged upward, intercepting the radiant barrage. Dust exploded outward as the light weapons smashed into it, each impact cracking the wall until, with a final blinding burst — it shattered into fragments.
But those few seconds were all she needed.
As the dust settled, Seris narrowed her eyes. Through the haze, Elizabeth stood tall — her hair swaying in the warm wind, her expression fierce and determined. Her hands were raised high, and a massive lance of fire swirled into existence above her, roaring like a living beast. Flames coiled and fused with the spiraling green of wind magic — a fierce, radiant fusion of two elements.
The air shimmered with heat and mana pressure.
A small, proud smile touched Seris's lips. She's using three elements at once… she thought, golden eyes softening. Her little sister truly was gifted — though Elizabeth never believed it, not with a brother like him in the picture.
"Well done, Elli," Seris murmured under her breath, her tone both approving and teasing. "But let's see if you can handle this."
She raised her hand slightly, and a beautiful bow of light formed, glowing brighter than the morning sun. Drawing the string back, a brilliant arrow took shape — so radiant it painted everything around her in gold.
The tension was thick. The sisters locked eyes, both smiling despite their exhaustion.
Just as the two were about to unleash their devastating attacks, a very unwanted voice broke through the intensity.
"Hey! You two can blow each other up for all I care — but if a single pastry of mine gets hit, I swear I'll tell Mom and get you both grounded for a month!"
Both girls froze mid-action, their attacks humming with unstable mana.
They didn't even need to turn around to know who it was.
Sitting comfortably on a bench a few meters away was a boy — their youngest sibling, Kaizel Igniseros. He had shiny white hair that fell slightly over the black blindfold covering his eyes, a calm smirk tugging at his lips. He wore a loose black shirt with golden patterns, baggy trousers tucked into polished boots. Though only ten years old, he carried himself with a sort of lazy confidence that made him seem older.
And in his hands — a plate of warm, flaky pastries.
"Honestly," Kaizel said between bites, voice muffled as he chewed. "I can't even enjoy breakfast without you two turning this place into a war zone. Do you know how hard it is to find good pastries around here? These are masterpieces, handcrafted by the gods themselves—"
"Elli," Seris interrupted softly, her voice smooth and oddly dangerous, her eyes glinting. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"
Elizabeth's smirk mirrored hers. "Yes, big sis. I'm thinking exactly what you're thinking."
A shared look. A wicked grin.
Kaizel froze mid-bite. "...Wait. Don't tell me—"
But before he could move, both sisters unleashed their attacks at once. The fiery wind-lance and the arrow of light tore through the air with a deafening roar, leaving trails of brilliance behind them as they barreled straight toward him.
The ground cracked under the shockwave, the air itself bending under the sheer pressure of their combined power.
And Kaizel… didn't even flinch.
He simply sighed, stood up slowly, and extended his hand.
The moment he did, the world seemed to pause.
Both attacks stopped midair — inches away from his outstretched fingers. The light and flames pulsed, straining against an unseen force, but couldn't move a single inch closer. The aftershock still obliterated his bench, sending splinters and dust everywhere, the ground behind him exploding into a crater.
But Kaizel just brushed his sleeve, utterly unfazed.
"No matter how many times you try," he said with a smirk that could make saints punch him, "you still can't touch me."
He flicked his wrist dismissively. "After all, you're weak."
Both sisters glared at him, sparks practically flying from their eyes. Normally, this was the part where they'd charge again in outrage — but this time, they didn't move.
Kaizel frowned. Something was off.
Usually, when he teased them, they'd shout, throw magic, and then cry to Mom — which, for some cosmic reason, always ended with him getting smacked, even though he was clearly the victim. Somehow, Mom's "Mother Power" bypassed even his Infinity barrier. A truly terrifying ability.
Still, it was always worth it — because afterward, she'd pat his head and make him sweets.
But right now… the girls weren't mad. They were smiling. Too sweetly.
Even through his blindfold — which, by the way, was mostly for dramatic effect — he could feel their gaze. The kind of smile that said: You're already dead.
A chill ran down his spine.
He turned his head slowly… and his world shattered.
The bench — his beloved pastry-holding bench — was gone. Reduced to splinters and debris. His pastries… his precious, buttery, flaky pastries… lay buried beneath the rubble.
For a second, silence.
Then, Kaizel fell to his knees, scooping up crumbs and ashes in trembling hands. His expression was one of pure despair — the kind found only in tragic ballads or ancient war epics.
"...My pastries," he whispered.
Then, louder, voice cracking with anguish:
"MY PASTRIES!!!"
His scream echoed across the training grounds like a battle cry of the damned, birds scattering from nearby trees as his sisters burst into uncontrollable laughter — Seris clutching her stomach and Elizabeth wiping tears from her eyes.
And amidst the laughter, Kaizel glared up, face covered in dust, a single tear rolling down his cheek.
"This means war," he muttered.
And just like that — the peaceful morning in the Igniseros castle descended into beautiful, chaotic sibling warfare once again.
--------
"So, whose fault was it today?"Elara Igniseros' voice carried the calm precision of a blade dipped in honey — sweet, but lethally sharp beneath the surface.
Her usually serene face now held a slight frown, the kind that could make grown knights freeze in their armor. Before her, three young figures stood in a perfect line of chaos and guilt — her children: Kaizel, Elizabeth, and Seris.
The instant the question left her lips, all three visibly shivered. And then — like a perfectly rehearsed act of betrayal — they started pointing at each other in sync.
"It was his fault!" Elizabeth and Seris chorused, both fingers stabbing toward Kaizel.
"It was their fault!" Kaizel fired back immediately, hands raised in self-defense. "They destroyed my precious pastries!"
Elara pressed a hand to her temple, sighing in that universal language of mothers everywhere — half exasperation, half affection.
Her gaze softened for a fleeting moment. Troublemakers… every single one of them. But they were her troublemakers — her pride, her chaos, her heart.
Still, a mother's love must be balanced with justice. Straightening up, Elara let a small, dangerously calm smile curve her lips. It was the kind of smile that froze laughter in the air.
"Seris, Elli…" she began.
Both girls instantly sat up straighter, spines rigid, hands clenched on their knees.
"You two will receive two extra weeks of training."
The words hit like a thunderclap.
"W-What!?" Elizabeth's eyes widened in horror. "Two weeks?"
Seris' face went pale as she remembered who their instructor would be — their aunt. A woman whose smile was rarer than an eclipse and whose training methods could make soldiers cry.
At that realization, both girls turned toward Kaizel, who sat cross-legged on the floor, completely unbothered — even humming quietly to himself, eyes half-closed under his black blindfold.
'Well,' Seris thought bitterly, 'everyone except him, I guess…'
She glanced sideways at her brother, her heart a tangle of admiration and frustration.
Kaizel Igniseros — her ten-year-old little brother — was unlike anyone else in their bloodline. Even at this age, he was… otherworldly. His very presence felt heavier, sharper. The air seemed to bend slightly around him, as though reality itself recognized his existence.
He could spar with family knights using nothing but raw physical strength. His control over mana wasn't just skillful — it was unnatural. When Kaizel willed it, the mana moved, like a loyal servant eager to please.
Seris clenched her fists. Compared to true monsters that walked this world, Kaizel was still a child, barely a flicker. But at the rate he grew — with that terrifying technique he'd used earlier to block their attacks — it wouldn't stay that way for long.
She swallowed, forcing her thoughts down. No. She wouldn't let this feeling eat at her. She was the eldest. Her job was to protect, to lead. Even if her brother didn't need protection — even if, someday, he would be the one protecting them — she refused to be left behind.
The punishment suddenly didn't feel like punishment anymore. Her jaw set, and she looked ahead with determination. If it's two weeks under Aunt's hellish training, then so be it. I'll come out stronger.
Beside her, Elizabeth's mind mirrored her sister's resolve. She glanced at Kaizel, eyes blazing with silent competition.I won't let you always stand above me, brother… I'll be strong enough to walk beside you.
Elara watched the quiet storm brewing in her daughters' eyes and smiled faintly. She'd seen that same fire before — in herself, in their father.
But when her gaze drifted to Kaizel, the smile dimmed. The boy looked like he could fall asleep any second, his chin tilted lazily upward. Yet Elara knew better.
Behind that calm, that mocking serenity, was a loneliness that scared her. From the moment he began to speak, to express emotions, he never truly sounded like a child. His words, his tone, his gaze — all carried a strange weight.
He wasn't cruel. But he was detached. Proud in a way that felt… ancient.
She sighed quietly, remembering a conversation they'd shared not too long ago — one that still lingered in her heart.
Flashback — The Tower
"Lady Viseria's daughter is here," Elara said, arms folded as she looked up at the boy sitting on the window ledge — far too high for her comfort. "She's with your sisters. Why don't you join them instead of brooding up here alone?"
The wind tugged at the curtains, carrying the scent of rain and distant roses from the gardens below. From this height, the castle grounds looked peaceful — almost unreal.
Kaizel didn't answer right away. His legs dangled freely over the hundred-foot drop, the faintest smile tugging at his lips."I don't want to," he said simply.
Elara exhaled, half amusement, half exasperation. "You never do. Any particular reason this time?"
"They're... too weak." He said it casually, like stating the weather. No cruelty in his tone — just quiet certainty.
Elara's brow arched. "Weak, huh? That's quite a word for someone who still needs help tying his sword belt."
He gave a soft snort, turning toward her. "That was once."
"Once," she echoed with a smile. "And now you're an unstoppable warrior, is that it?"
He shrugged. "Not yet. But soon."
The teasing faded from her face, replaced by something sharper — concern wrapped in gentleness. "Kaizel, strength isn't something you rush toward. It's something you learn to carry."
He tilted his head. "You think I don't understand that?"
"I think," she said carefully, "you're starting to believe that power makes you more than the rest of them. That's where you're wrong."
Her voice dropped, quiet but firm. "Strength without humility isn't strength at all. It's just a louder kind of weakness."
Kaizel's smirk softened. His fingers toyed with the edge of his blindfold — a nervous habit she'd noticed since he was small."I'm not trying to look down on anyone," he murmured. "It's just... when I fight, I can feel it. The difference. It's not arrogance, Mother. It's just... real."
Elara's gaze softened. "And does that difference make you lonely?"
He hesitated. Then, barely above a whisper — "Sometimes."
For a moment, neither spoke. The wind filled the silence between them.
Then, quietly, she said, "You don't have to carry that on your own, Kaizel."
He smiled faintly, almost shyly. "I know. You'd never let me."
Elara chuckled and walked closer, her boots echoing lightly on the stone floor. "Good answer."
When she reached him, she brushed her fingers through his hair — still messy despite her endless scolding — and sighed. "You think too much for your age. You'll give me gray hairs before my time."
He smirked. "You'd still look beautiful."
She laughed, shaking her head. "Flattery won't save you."
Before he could react, she pinched his cheeks — hard.
"Ah—ow! Ow! Mother!" he yelped, squirming. "I surrender! Mercy!"
"Say it," she demanded, fighting a grin. "Who's the strongest?"
"You are! You are!" he blurted out, muffled between her hands.
She released him with a victorious smile, then ruffled his hair affectionately. "That's better."
Kaizel rubbed his cheeks, grinning despite himself. "You're getting cruel in your old age."
"Old age?" she gasped dramatically. "I'll have you know I'm still young enough to throw you off this tower and catch you before you hit the ground."
He laughed — a real laugh, bright and unguarded. "You wouldn't."
"I would," she said sweetly. "Now come on. I made your favorite sweets."
That was all the invitation he needed. In an instant, he jumped down from the ledge, landing beside her with exaggerated grace. Then, dropping to one knee with a hand over his heart, he looked up with a mock-serious face."I live to serve, my lady."
Elara blinked once, then burst out laughing — that warm, melodic laugh that filled the whole room. "Get up, you silly boy."
As they walked toward the door, she gave him a sidelong glance. "You'll be strong one day, Kaizel. Stronger than you can imagine. But never forget—strength means nothing if it takes away your kindness."
He nodded quietly. "I won't forget."
"I know," she said, smiling as the light from the corridor wrapped around them. "Because you're my son."
Back in the present, Elara's eyes softened at the fading warmth of that memory.Her mischievous, prideful boy — the one destined to shake kingdoms, the one whose very existence made nobles whisper and stars seem to pause — still bowed his head like a knight whenever sweets were involved.
No matter what fate awaited him… no matter what power he would one day command…He would always, always, be her little boy.
And that — that was something even the gods themselves could never take away.
Elara's lips curved into a faint smile as she turned toward him.
Kaizel was, unsurprisingly, half-slumped in his seat, expression blank with pure, undistilled boredom. He'd clearly checked out of reality somewhere between "extra training" and "discipline."
But the instant he felt his mother's gaze land on him, he straightened like a soldier caught napping during inspection. His posture went rigid, his voice suddenly bright and innocent.
"Yes, Mother?" he asked, tilting his head slightly, tone dripping with manufactured cuteness. His blindfolded face wore a practiced cherubic smile that would melt stone.
Internally, Kaizel was already patting himself on the back. Perfect delivery. She'll never punish me now. I'm a genius.
Elara clasped her hands together dramatically, eyes glimmering."Ohhh my baby," she cooed sweetly, voice full of affection. "You're so adorable when you try that little act of yours."
Kaizel grinned. Hook, line, and sinker.
And then she said it.
"No sweets for a week."
The world went still.
Kaizel froze, smile cracking like glass. For a moment, no one moved — not even the curtains dared to flutter.
Then—
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"
His scream echoed through the grand Igniseros estate, long and dramatic, like a dying warrior lamenting his fallen comrades. Birds took off from the nearby gardens. A few servants in the corridor sighed deeply — not with alarm, but with long-suffering amusement.
"Again?" one maid murmured, shaking her head with a soft chuckle."Third time this week," another replied, unfazed, dusting a shelf. "Young Master Kaizel must have challenged Lady Elara's patience again."
"Poor boy," a guard whispered. "He'd rather face a dragon than lose his sweets."
Inside the hall, Elara stood with her arms crossed, eyes closed, wearing the serene smile of a mother who had already mastered the art of emotional warfare.
Her daughters, Seris and Elizabeth, tried and failed to suppress their laughter, shoulders trembling.
Kaizel, meanwhile, had dropped to his knees dramatically, one hand raised toward the heavens, as if appealing directly to some higher confectionary power.
"Mother! You can take my freedom, my training, even my pride — but not my sweets!" he wailed, pure anguish coating every syllable.
Elara's expression softened for a heartbeat. Then she turned away gracefully, cape swaying behind her like a queen walking from the battlefield.
"Maybe next time, you'll think twice before using that cute act of yours against me," she said, voice calm but teasing.
As the great hall filled with Kaizel's theatrical cries of despair, Seris leaned toward Elizabeth, whispering with a smirk, "Guess even geniuses have weaknesses."
Elizabeth giggled. "Yeah — sugar."
And from somewhere down the corridor, Kaizel's muffled voice echoed again, broken and tragic:"I swear… I'll get stronger… strong enough to earn back my sweets!"
The servants just smiled knowingly, returning to their duties as laughter — warm, bright, and alive — filled the Igniseros household once more.