The morning sun spilled over the Verdant Estate, washing the training grounds in a golden haze that shimmered across the dew-slicked grass. The clang of steel and the echo of distant drills carried faintly from the barracks below, but the main arena—broad and stone-laid—lay still and waiting, silent beneath the gaze of the mountains.
Sophia stood at its edge, her tiny frame dwarfed by the vast expanse before her. She had imagined the training grounds to be simple—an open field with a few racks of weapons. But before her stretched a world of discipline: lined dummies, sparring circles marked in white chalk, and weapon racks that gleamed like an armory of dreams. The scent of oil, iron, and sweat filled the air. Her heartbeat quickened.
She had never been here in her previous life. There had been no need—no time for such things. Yet now, in this reborn body, she felt a pull toward this place, as though destiny itself whispered through the cool mountain breeze.
In the center of the arena stood Duke Damien Verdant, her father—an immovable figure clad in dark training robes, his sword sheathed at his hip like a coiled storm. Two others stood beside him: one a middle-aged man with flaming red hair and eyes black as cooled embers, his face worn and lined by years of battle; the other, a youthful man of perhaps twenty, calm and observant, with neat black hair and the posture of a scholar.
Sophia drew in a breath and approached, her small boots crunching softly on gravel. "Greetings, Father," she said, her voice composed, her every motion graceful as she bowed with the poise of a noblewoman. Old habits, she thought. Some things refuse to fade—even across lifetimes.
The red-haired man gave a low whistle. "You didn't tell me your daughter was this well-mannered," he said, eyeing her with amusement.
Damien smirked. "When did I ever say my baby girl was a nuisance?"
"Fair point," the man chuckled, scratching his beard.
The younger one, however, said nothing. His gaze lingered—not on her face, but beyond it. Sophia felt a prickle of awareness. He was observing the faint ripples of energy within her. Her mana.
Damien's voice broke the silence. "Alright, enough chatter. Let's get to what we came here for."
He turned to Sophia and gestured toward the two men. "Sophia, this is Thomas, a Sword Sage who will teach you the fundamentals of swordsmanship. And this is Juan, a magician who will guide you in the basics of magic and further training."
The red-haired man stepped forward, a wide smile cutting through the roughness of his face. "It's an honor to meet you, Lady Sophia. I hope you're ready to sweat."
The younger man bowed neatly. "Juan, at your service. It's a pleasure to assist the young lady of House Verdant."
Sophia met their gazes and nodded with quiet determination. "I look forward to learning from you both."
Damien's stern tone returned, though a glint of pride warmed his eyes. "Today is just an introduction. Starting tomorrow, they'll be visiting the manor daily. You'll respect their instruction and cause no mischief."
"Yes, Father," Sophia replied with a sparkle of resolve. "I will not disappoint you."
As her father began discussing her training schedule, Sophia's attention drifted toward the wooden swords resting neatly in a rack nearby. For a moment, her fingers itched to hold one—to feel its weight, its balance, to imagine herself wielding it under sunlight. But she didn't interrupt. With a small sigh, she bowed once more to her father and instructors, then turned and quietly walked back toward the estate.
As she crossed the hallway leading to her room, Sophia felt a faint pressure behind her—a presence that never left her side. She stopped and turned to face Iris.
The knight stood straight as a blade, her silver-gray armor gleaming softly under the corridor's light. Her expression was neutral, but her eyes were alert—ever watchful. She had served as Sophia's personal knight since birth, and her devotion was beyond question. Yet now, Sophia's curiosity stirred.
"Iris," she said suddenly, "why did you agree to become my personal knight?"
The question hung in the air like a stone tossed into still water.
Iris blinked once, clearly not expecting it. Then her voice came, steady but thoughtful. "It is the duty of a knight to protect their master. And as a knight of House Verdant, I follow Duke Verdant's commands."
Her tone was practiced, almost mechanical. But Sophia could feel the truth beneath it—a quiet burden carried in silence.
"That's true," Sophia said softly. "But you could have left once you became a Sword Master. Don't you want to explore the world?"
For a moment, Iris's gaze drifted. The faintest shadow crossed her face. "I do," she admitted. "But a knight is bound by duty. It's not that I lack the desire—it's that I've already chosen the path I'll walk. My sword belongs here."
Sophia studied her closely. The words carried a familiar melancholy. Duty. Responsibility. How many times had she herself used those words to chain her heart in her previous life?
"I see…" she said softly. Then her eyes brightened with a sudden thought. "How about this—once I become strong enough, I promise we'll go on an adventure together. Around the world."
That startled Iris enough for her composure to crack into a smile. "My Lady, that would be wonderful."
Sophia giggled, puffing her chest proudly. "Then it's a promise!"
Neither of them realized, in that quiet corridor of the Verdant Estate, that the promise made so casually would one day become a vow carved into legend.
Evening came draped in amber hues. Sophia sat at her desk, her small hands turning the fragile pages of a thick book. The title read 'The Chronicles of the Human Continent'. The world beyond Verdant Estate unfolded before her eyes—kingdoms of stone and magic, deserts where ancient beasts slumbered, floating cities built atop mana veins.
"Sophia, what are you doing?"
She startled slightly and looked up. Isabelle stood at the doorway, her beauty soft as moonlight, her smile carrying that tender blend of affection and exasperation only a mother could master.
"Ah—Mommy!" Sophia said quickly, closing the book halfway. "I was reading about the history of our continent."
"My goodness, Sophia," Isabelle sighed as she crossed the room, "you're only five. You don't need to study this hard."
"It's fine, Mommy. I love studying," Sophia replied—though that wasn't exactly true. She didn't love it; she simply absorbed information easily. Her photographic memory made reading a task, not a challenge. What truly fascinated her wasn't the ink on the page, but the world it described.
"Well, little scholar, it's time for dinner," Isabelle said, sweeping Sophia into her arms.
The dining hall shimmered under candlelight. Long silverware gleamed, maids hurried quietly, and the scent of roasted venison filled the air. Duke Verdant sat at the head of the table, his posture regal, though his expression softened the moment he saw his daughter.
"Daddy!"
Sophia leapt from her mother's arms and ran straight to him. Damien caught her effortlessly, laughing. "My little star, how was your day?"
"I learned so much! About continents and kings and even the Great Mana War!" she said proudly.
Damien listened patiently, a small smile curling his lips as the maids set down their plates. The family began their meal—simple, warm, peaceful. For a brief time, even the Duke looked less like the fearsome lord of Verdant Estate and more like an ordinary father.
"So," he said between bites, "have you thought about what you want to do when you grow up?"
"I want to become strong and explore the world!" Sophia said without hesitation. Her eyes shone with wonder. "I want to see everything." Ever since she had been reborn, her only goal was freedom. Freedom to explore everything and go wherever she wanted.
"That's a lovely dream," Isabelle said gently, though her tone was tinged with sadness. "But if you go far away, what will happen to us?"
Sophia smiled brightly. "Don't worry, Mommy. I'll come back and visit all the time!" She was grateful to the parents that had given birth to her in this life, she wouldn't leave them. They will always be in her heart.
Damien chuckled but then grew thoughtful. "The world is dangerous, Sophia. That's why I've decided something."
Sophia tilted her head. "What is it?"
"I want you to attend Stelle Academy when you're older."
Both Isabelle and Sophia looked up in surprise. Stelle Academy—one of the most prestigious institutions in the human continent. A place where prodigies were forged and legends were born.
"Really?" Sophia's voice was full of awe. She had read about it a few days ago and was planning to confront her father regarding it but, he himself said that she had to attend the Stelle Academy.
"But isn't it… impossible to get in?" Isabelle asked softly.
Damien nodded. "The entrance exam is ruthless. Even my influence can't help you there. Only skill and resolve matter. If you fail, you'll never be allowed to apply again." Stelle Academy was a neutral one.
They didn't discriminate between nobles and commoners, they only focused on knowledge and education. They had had a merit system that made it impossible for low skilled people to keep up with academics. Most of the children who passed the entrance exam were already considered geniuses, and graduating from Stelle Academy meant, a life full of opportunities.
Sophia's fingers clenched slightly. That kind of challenge stirred something deep within her—a spark of the warrior she will become. "Then I'll pass," she said firmly. Her goal was the Stelle Academy and she wouldn't slack off on it.
Damien smiled, a mixture of pride and concern in his gaze. "Good. If that's your will, we'll make sure you're ready." He knew that sending Sophia to a ruthless environment won't be ideal, but she had to be prepared for the future. If what his close friend has said was true, she needed the knowledge that Stelle Academy could provide her. It would be a crucial factor for her to explore the world freely.
Later that night, silence fell over the Verdant Estate. The moon hung like a pale lantern above the mountain, its light spilling through the window of a small room where a child sat cross-legged on her bed.
Sophia's eyes were closed, her breathing steady. Her tiny hands rested upon her knees. She was trying—again—to sense the flow of mana within her body. Books had said it felt like a current, a warmth that moved beneath the skin. But no matter how hard she focused, all she felt was her heartbeat.
"Sigh… This is harder than it looks," she muttered, frowning.
Still, she tried again.
Minutes passed. Then an hour. Her concentration wavered, then faded entirely.
Maybe I'm doing it wrong, she thought, slumping backward onto her bed. The ceiling stared back, painted in silver by moonlight.
"I wonder what I'll learn tomorrow…" she whispered.
Her eyelids grew heavy. The gentle hum of the night carried her into slumber.
And so ended the first true day of her new path—the dawn of discipline, where dreams began to take shape, and destiny waited quietly beyond the veil of sleep.