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    The morning sun painted the villa and the surrounding hillside buildings with a warm, golden light that spilled across the city. Fortified walls, manned by vigilant guards with crossbows held at the ready, encircled the metropolis. A palpable tension hung in the air; the city remained on high alert after a recent, unsettling incident where a dark rift walker had somehow slipped past their defenses, bypassing both the walls and their intricate security measures.


    As the night shift of one guard drew to a close, he reached into his pocket and retrieved a smooth stone. A soft, internal glow pulsed from its center as he turned to his fellow watchman.


    "My shift''s finally over," he said, a hint of relief in his voice. "Time to get some rest."


    His colleague responded, his brow furrowed with concern. "It''s strange seeing so many extra patrols. Did you hear about the dark rift walker that was supposedly spotted at General Ivan''s estate? That''s likely the cause of all this."


    Rumors had indeed been circulating throughout the city, whispers of an attack on General Ivan Tepsih Darcule''s estate, and the unfortunate injury of one of his sons.


    The tired guard stifled a yawn, the sound raspy in the morning air. "Nah, I doubt that''s the only reason. It''s damn concerning if those monsters can just waltz into one of the most secure cities in the kingdom. Honestly, I''m too knackered to worry properly. Night shifts are a bloody nightmare. Couldn''t they find anyone else daft enough to volunteer?"


    His brother, standing beside him, was taken aback by his sibling''s uncharacteristic apathy. Usually so meticulous and on edge, the night shift had clearly taken its toll on him, his first ever.


    "Alright, tell Mom I''ll be back before dinner," the guard mumbled, turning to finally leave his post.


    Standing at the highest point of the wall, the brother watched him go, then gazed out towards the sprawling lands stretching beyond the city limits. The gentle morning wind rustled through his golden hair as he contemplated the weighty responsibility they carried as protectors of their dwindling civilization.


    I hope you''re right, brother, he thought grimly. We must remain vigilant against this encroaching darkness. Only four kingdoms remain now, and that darkness threatens to swallow us all.


    <hr>


    Rayhein awoke with a sense of restless energy, an eagerness to explore the unfamiliar surroundings thrumming within him. Offering a polite excuse to the guard stationed near his room, he ventured out for a stroll around the expansive estate, his eyes taking in the manicured beauty of the gardens and the imposing grandeur of the buildings. As he made his way towards what he assumed were the training barracks, he meticulously scanned the area, absorbing every detail of this new world. A profound lack of information gnawed at him, a desperate need to understand everything from its basic geography to the nature of its wildlife.


    Aiden''s memories flickered within him, a disjointed tapestry woven with fragments of his own past and Rayhein''s life.


    Most of my memories are still so hazy, he mused, a slight frown creasing his brow. I only have clear recollections of the three years within the cloning program. It seems only the most impactful memories, the ones that truly shaped the individual, have managed to surface.


    Rayhein''s childhood memories, however, burned with a sharp clarity in Aiden''s mind. He recalled the sting of being born without any discernible magical talent, a deficiency that had made him a constant target for ridicule and even outright abuse within the empire. Despite the relentless hardship, Rayhein had desperately tried to navigate his circumstances, even daring to dream of enrolling in Remutie, one of the kingdom''s most prestigious academies. The crushing disappointment of failing the entrance exams due to his lack of magical aptitude, so highly prized by the institution, still echoed in Aiden''s mind. The relentless pressure had ultimately forced Rayhein to abandon his aspirations of knighthood and instead enroll in the champions program, a path perhaps less glorious but offering a different kind of strength.


    As he ambled along a stone pathway winding through the vibrant garden, his attention was caught by strange birds perched on the manicured hedges. Their beady eyes, sharp and intelligent, followed his every move. They were massive creatures, their build heavy and their long beaks giving them an unsettling resemblance to overgrown crows. Glancing around, Rayhein noted the towering walls that encircled the estate, and beyond them, the imposing silhouette of the city itself.


    Rayhein pondered the significance of these formidable barriers, recalling snippets of information about the hostile entities that roamed this world. The wildlife, he remembered, was often enormous and inherently dangerous, capable of easily overpowering and killing humans. Furthermore, there were subspecies of humans, like himself, and the mention of a "dark rift walker" earlier hinted at even more sinister threats. While science and technology existed in this realm, their advancement was limited, with most civilizations relying on magic or naturally occurring substitutes to fulfill needs that gadgets would otherwise address. It was a world unlike anything he had ever encountered, far more perilous than its initial beauty suggested.


    Rayhein mentally sifted through the fragmented recollections of books he had once read. He knew some of those narratives had left a lasting impression and might hold valuable clues or insights for his current predicament.


    Perhaps rereading those books in my room would offer a welcome escape, he thought, a flicker of longing in his chest. But more importantly, they could prove genuinely helpful in understanding this place.


    As he continued his exploration, Rayhein remained acutely aware of his surroundings, his senses on high alert for anything out of the ordinary. He spotted exotic birds flitting through the air, their feathers shimmering with an almost fiery luminescence.


    "I can''t help but wonder how other species here have managed to survive for so long," he murmured to himself, a hint of awe in his voice. "It''s honestly quite surprising."


    The estate slowly stirred to life around him, the sounds of people awakening and beginning their daily routines gradually filling the air. Guards in polished armor and other personnel hurried about their duties, their movements purposeful. Rayhein paid them little mind, his thoughts still swirling, and continued his aimless stroll.


    Suddenly, the sounds of vigorous activity drew his attention. He had inadvertently stumbled upon the champion knights'' quarter, where figures were already engaged in early morning training, the clang of metal on metal echoing in the crisp air. Rayhein paused, watching their disciplined movements with a sense of grudging admiration.


    As he continued his walk, a prickling sensation on the back of his neck alerted him. He sensed he was being followed. A wave of caution washed over him, yet he also held a certain confidence due to his perceived status within this family. Aside from them, he reasoned, who would dare bother him?


    "Master Rayhein? Is there… an inspection?" a voice inquired from behind.


    A small group of individuals who had been observing the champion knights'' training looked surprised to see Rayhein there so early, especially without the ever-present figure of Hans, the butler, shadowing him.


    "Don''t be alarmed," Rayhein assured them with a dismissive wave of his hand. "I''m just observing the knights'' training. I won''t disturb anyone."


    One of the individuals, a burly man with a scowl etched onto his features, seemed displeased by Rayhein''s presence. "You''re not welcome here, Rayhein," he stated flatly, his tone laced with hostility.


    Rayhein ignored the man, his gaze drawn to a small boy practicing on the grounds. The training area was clearly divided into two sections and boasted a variety of equipment, including a worn firing range and several battered dummies. He even noticed sturdy cages containing what appeared to be bears, their roars occasionally punctuating the morning air.


    The little boy, clad in practical battle clothes made of leather and reinforced with metal plates, particularly caught Rayhein''s attention. It was Avan, his younger brother, the obnoxious little twerp. Rayhein observed Avan diligently practicing his magical abilities, noticing faint burn marks scarring his small armor. Avan muttered something about a "fire manipulation series" as he focused his energy.


    A mischievous impulse flickered within Rayhein. He decided to tease Avan, partly to gauge his volatile reaction and partly to gain a better understanding of how to interact with him in the future. A sharp pang of jealousy twisted in his gut as he watched Avan effortlessly manipulate flames, leaving scorched patterns on his armor. The little brat had always looked down on him, even though Rayhein acknowledged his own past mistakes.


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    "Just watching, don''t mind me," Rayhein said with a deliberately irritating smirk. "Just wanted to see my little brother in action, that''s all."


    As he casually glanced around at the others in the vicinity, Rayhein noticed a uniform expression of dislike, bordering on disgust, on their faces. The realization hit him with a jolt: the animosity towards Rayhein wasn''t confined to just his immediate family. He must have truly messed up in the past. Yet, the memories remained frustratingly hazy, the full story still eluding him.


    The little brother''s face contorted with fury at Rayhein''s taunting words.


    "You? A talentless nobody? What the hell are you even doing here? Watching training? You''re just wasting everyone''s time. Get lost, or—" Avan''s voice trailed off, his small open palm beginning to glow with swirling particles that rapidly coalesced into a visible energy.


    Before Rayhein could react impulsively, the ever-present butler, Hans, seemed to materialize out of thin air, smoothly stepping between the two brothers.


    "It''s time for your studies, Master Rayhein," the butler said, his voice calm and authoritative, a stark contrast to the simmering tension between the siblings.


    Hans cast a brief, almost apologetic glance back at Avan and muttered, "Sorry, Master Avan. Rayhein has his classes to attend." A subtle undercurrent of bitterness laced his words.


    The butler''s swift intervention diffused the immediate confrontation, but Avan''s cutting remark still echoed in Rayhein''s ears, a sharp sting to his pride.


    That little twerp, he seethed inwardly, his fists clenching. I need to teach him a damn lesson. Just wait a few months. I''m sure I can wipe the floor with him in a fight.


    Rayhein turned abruptly and strode away, leaving Avan standing with a look of intense disappointment on his young face. He had hoped to provoke Rayhein into a full-blown fight, eager to deliver a brutal reality check by beating him senseless.


    I''ll kill you someday for abandoning me and Mother, he thought bitterly, the words barely a whisper on his lips.


    Returning to the firing range with renewed focus, Avan concentrated his energy on his right palm. Particles of light danced and converged, his hand vibrating with barely contained power as his left hand steadied it. A glowing plasma ball, crackling with energy, formed in his grasp. He aimed it at a training dummy positioned a hundred feet away.


    With eyes gleaming with fierce determination, Avan unleashed the ball of energy. It shot forward with incredible velocity, striking the target with such force that it erupted in flames, leaving a gaping, smoking hole in its wake. Avan spoke softly, but his voice held a chilling resolve.


    "Just give up, brother. You never stood up for us after Mom''s death. I''ll take your place. You''re useless."


    The soldiers and trainees who had witnessed the display of raw magical power were stunned into silence. Even the grizzled veteran in charge of the training area wore an expression of impressed disbelief.


    "That''s terrifying, to be honest," one young soldier whispered to his companion, his eyes wide. "He could become someone truly great if he went to Rumira."


    As Rayhein walked towards his room in the villa, a question gnawed at him. He turned to Hans, his brow furrowed.


    "Why did you interrupt us back there?"


    Hans seemed genuinely surprised by the question. Rayhein had always backed down from Avan''s provocations in the past. His current, almost confrontational stance felt… different, a noticeable shift since his near-death experience.


    "Are you alright, Master Ray?" Hans asked, his voice laced with concern. "Do you truly believe you''re ready for such a confrontation?"


    Rayhein shook his head, a newfound resolve hardening his gaze. "No, not yet. But I''m thinking of starting proper training now. With enough time, I''m certain I can beat him. Magic isn''t the be-all and end-all. I''ll find a way to improve my situation, one way or another."


    Hans was momentarily speechless, a mixture of apprehension and confusion swirling within him. He couldn''t fathom what kind of training Rayhein, a known null in terms of magic, had in mind. Suggesting he could fight Avan, a prodigy of fire magic, felt incredibly dangerous. It was a sensitive topic, and Hans hesitated to press further, unsure of what Rayhein truly meant.


    Leading Rayhein to his spacious quarters, Hans had already arranged for a tutor from the city, hired by his father, to provide instruction in state affairs, management, and finance. After the lesson concluded, Rayhein returned to his room and lay down on the plush bedding, his mind buzzing with newfound information.


    That was certainly interesting, he thought, a spark of curiosity igniting within him, but I still have so many unanswered questions.


    He found himself utterly fascinated by the world he had been thrust into, a deep yearning to learn everything about it taking root. His insatiable curiosity drove him to seek knowledge about magic, the various races that inhabited this land, their diverse cultures, and the myriad professions that existed. He instinctively understood that gaining this knowledge was crucial, a vital step in preventing any future conflict or misunderstanding. As he pondered the implications of his new reality, he realized the sheer scope of what he needed to learn and made it his silent mission to absorb every piece of information he could.


    Two days had passed since his arrival in this world, and Rayhein had already established a rudimentary routine. His days were filled with studying and practicing relatively simple drills, a structured environment that felt strangely protective. Despite this sense of being shielded, he remained focused on his studies and training, his determination to learn unwavering.


    Perhaps my father is deliberately protecting me, Rayhein mused, a thoughtful expression on his face. If that''s the case, I should make the most of this time. But if war truly looms on the horizon, I can''t afford to remain complacent. I''ll need to get into that school as a knight, to stay close to Aiden. But how in the hell do I even begin training to become a knight?


    As he wrestled with this question, his thoughts drifted back to the knights he had observed in the training area. He decided to return later and observe them more closely.


    I mastered warfare and combat in a hell that would break most minds, he thought, his voice a low, icy murmur. His eyes momentarily lost their warmth, reflecting a cold, unwavering resolve. Magic? I just need a better understanding of it. Every power has a weakness, a flaw. I''ll find the tools to exploit it, to shut it down.


    That evening, Rayhein made his way back to the training area, choosing an odd hour, hoping to find it deserted. To his surprise, he found only one person there: a young boy diligently practicing sword strikes under the fading light. Rayhein watched in silent awe as the boy''s movements flowed with a serene calmness and precise control, his concentration absolute. The boy''s impeccable battle stance immediately caught his eye, an impressive display of disciplined form. Then, the boy moved, striking with a speed that Rayhein''s enhanced senses could barely track.


    Rayhein was astounded by the boy''s incredible speed and agility. The way he moved was a blur, an almost instantaneous shift from one position to another. Even with his enhanced reflexes from his clone body and the combat drugs he had been subjected to, Rayhein had never witnessed such breathtaking speed. The sound of the boy''s movements was sharp and impactful, like a series of rapid thunderclaps echoing across the training grounds.


    Thud.


    BOOM.


    Rayhein could scarcely believe what he had just seen. The boy had struck the training dummy with such speed and force that it seemed to have… vanished. Before Rayhein could approach him, the boy seamlessly transitioned into another stance, his movements fluid and lightning-fast.


    Did he just… vanish? So damn fast. I couldn''t even see him change positions, Rayhein exclaimed internally, his disbelief palpable.


    "Hey," Rayhein called out, trying to get the boy''s attention. "Are you a knight?"


    The boy, still immersed in his training, didn''t seem to hear him at first. But eventually, he paused, turning to face Rayhein with a slight tilt of his head.


    "Huh? No. Just a trainee."


    Rayhein felt a surge of eagerness. He wanted to learn, and this boy clearly possessed a skill he desperately needed. The boy was roughly his height, perhaps a few years older, still undeniably young. Rayhein could sense that he possessed an advanced-level sword art technique, one that held immense potential for him to learn.


    "Hello," Rayhein began, offering a tentative smile. "I''m Rayhein. Sorry to bother you. Could you possibly tell me what that combat style was and… how did you move so incredibly fast?"


    The boy, who was indeed about the same height as Rayhein and appeared a few years his senior, studied him for a moment, his gaze direct and assessing, before finally answering.


    "Champions Spark Battle Style. It''s… kind of complicated to explain. And even if I did, I doubt it would be of much use to you, Sir Rayhein."


    "You know my name? Oh, interesting," Rayhein remarked, his curiosity piqued. "How long does it typically take to learn this battle art? Is it something I could learn? I… can''t use magic, though."


    "It doesn''t actually use magic," the boy clarified, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "It utilizes something different. It''s more about harnessing inner and outer force. To learn just the basics would probably take you around two years of dedicated practice. This technique is considered an advanced-level sword art. My dad''s been drilling me in these things since I was a little kid."


    Despite the daunting timeframe, a thrill of excitement coursed through Rayhein. The prospect of mastering such a powerful technique ignited a spark of hope within him. He knew that champion knights would likely play a crucial role in any future conflicts, and if he could integrate this incredible speed into his already formidable hybrid martial arts skills, the applications for close-quarters combat would be devastating.


    As he subconsciously touched his chest, he distinctly felt the dual rhythm of two separate heartbeats.


    Thum, thum.


    A wave of exhilaration washed over Rayhein at the prospect of leveraging this unique gift, a rare trait inherited by both brothers as a characteristic of their unusual subspecies. He knew his base physical stats were already superior to most, and that was the only advantage he currently possessed.


    "Who needs magic when I can crush anything with sheer might? Hahaha," Rayhein said, a low chuckle escaping his lips, his eyes gleaming with newfound determination.


    The boy looked at him with a mixture of confusion and concern.


    Is he alright? What have I gotten myself into? And… why can''t he just call me by my name? Has he already forgotten me? he wondered, a flicker of hurt in his young eyes.


    Unbeknownst to the two young men, a figure leaned against the wall diagonally opposite them, cleverly concealed from direct view. Hans, the butler, a faint smile playing on his lips, quietly pushed himself off the wall and walked away, having overheard their entire conversation.