5 years later…
"Dad, can you teach me how to do that thing with your sword today?"
A blond boy with bright sky-blue eyes looked up with a wide grin.
"Oh, you mean the Straight Edge Slash?" Gable chuckled, ruffling his son's hair. "Not yet. I'll teach you when you're ready."
The Straight Edge Slash was a legendary 10th-level Normal Force technique. A single, perfect cut that could slice through anything in a straight line.
The boy pouted, but before he could reply—
Knock. Knock.
The sound froze Gable mid-smile. His hand instinctively went to his sword as he moved to the door. Slowly, he opened it.
A tall figure stood there, shadows clinging to his form.
"…Ryker."
"You finally recognize me," Ryker said, his voice low, cold. "I found you two years ago. But I couldn't bring myself to capture you—until now."
His eyes shifted toward the boy inside. "Strange. Weren't the boy's eyes supposed to be red? Like Marcellius's?, ofcourse I mean before he became king"
Gable smirked. "Lenses. Clever, right?"
Ryker ignored the taunt. "You know why I'm here. I'm taking you—and the prince—back to the castle. The easy way, or the hard way. Your choice."
Gable stepped outside, his face hardening. "Son, stay inside. Don't open the door."
The two men walked into the field behind the house. Silence filled the air, broken only by the rustle of the wind.
"Do you truly believe you can defeat me?" Ryker sneered.
Gable's sword left its sheath with a hiss. Ryker's twin shadow-forged blades glimmered in the dying light.
Steel met steel. Sparks flew.
They clashed again, and again, shadows and flames colliding in bursts of light and darkness. Their movements blurred, neither giving an inch.
Finally, Gable leapt back. His sword burned with crimson fire.
"Level 8 Flame Force—Straight Edge Flame Slash!"
A searing blade of fire cut across the field. The earth hissed, smoke rising in its wake.
Ryker didn't flinch. He raised his hand. "Level 5 Shadow Force—Shadow Consumption."
A massive shadow surged upward, swallowing the slash whole. The flames vanished as if they had never existed.
From the window, the boy's eyes widened in awe. It was the first time he had seen Force unleashed.
"Last warning, Gable," Ryker said coldly. "Surrender. Or else."
"Or else!" Gable roared, slamming both hands into the earth.
"Level 4 Flame Force—Hell's Flame Prison!"
The ground erupted in fire. Flames twisted into a cyclone, encircling Ryker. The inferno tightened, closing in on him like a burning cage.
"Damn you," Ryker growled. His aura exploded, shadows writhing violently. "Level 4 Shadow Force—Consumption Space Slash!"
A downward strike cleaved through the prison, splitting the flames themselves apart. The explosion thundered across the field, shaking the earth.
From the smoke, Ryker emerged, his clothes scorched, his dark eyes blazing.
"Level 3 Shadow Force—Shadow Containment."
Shadows surged beneath Gable, swallowing him in an instant.
Inside, there was no light. No ground. Just endless darkness. His body felt crushed from every direction, his mind assaulted with whispers that clawed at his sanity.
"What… is this place?" he groaned.
"It's over," Ryker's voice echoed in the void.
Gable clenched his teeth, blood dripping from his lips. "No… it's not!"
"Level 4 Flame Force—Flame Burst!"
The dome erupted, fire tearing through the shadows. Gable stumbled out, drenched in sweat, gasping for breath, barely standing.
Ryker narrowed his eyes. "I should've expected that. Level 3 Shadow Force—Shadow Puppets."
Ten puppets of writhing darkness clawed out of the ground. They lunged.
Gable swung desperately, cutting down one, then another, but more rose to replace them. Each slash left wounds on his body. Blood soaked his clothes, but he kept fighting, staggering under the endless onslaught.
Finally, Ryker spoke. "Enough."
The puppets vanished. Gable collapsed to the ground, his blood staining the earth.
"…You didn't even use second-level Shadow Force," Gable muttered bitterly. "And I'm already finished… pathetic."
Ryker's shadows lifted his broken body. The boy's lenses were stripped from his eyes. Father and son were dragged away.
---
When Gable awoke, he was in a cold chamber. His son rushed to his side, tears in his eyes.
"Dad, you're awake!"
Before Gable could respond, Ryker entered. "Good. You're fit to face His Majesty."
Chains bound Gable as he was led into the royal quarters. The king of Silverhaven—Marcellius—sat upon his throne, gaze sharp as steel.
"Gable Thane," the king said sternly. "You stand accused of crimes against the kingdom. Why?"
"You dare ask me why?" Gable's voice cracked with rage. "Because you killed my wife. My unborn child!"
Marcellius's eyes widened. "Gable… what madness is this? We were like brothers. Why would I kill Grace?"
"Don't lie to me!" Gable roared, flames sparking around his chains.
"Think, Gable," Marcellius said softly. "Why would I ever harm her?"
"You bastard!" Gable exploded, breaking free in a blaze of fire. He charged at the king, sword raised.
But before he could strike, shadows wrapped around him. Dozens of blades pressed against his skin. Ryker's voice cut through the tension.
"Move, and you die."
Gable trembled, his face twisted with fury. "My life ended the day Grace was taken from me. If it ends here… so be it!"
He lunged.
The shadows struck.
A single clean slice cut him in half.
Ryker looked away, his eyes wet. Even Marcellius's expression faltered.
"Dad!! No!!"
The boy's scream tore through the chamber as he burst inside—only to see his father's lifeless body fall.
He ran, sobbing uncontrollably, fleeing the castle halls.
"Ryker!" Marcellius barked. "Bring him back! Now!"
Ryker vanished into the shadows, reappearing outside. But the boy was gone. No presence, no trace.
"What…?" Ryker's voice shook. "He disappeared."
Marcellius's fist clenched. "You're the strongest knight in Silverhaven. And yet a five-year-old without Force slips away?"
Children usually awakened their Force at age twelve.
Meanwhile, deep in the forest, the boy stumbled into a small village. He collided with a kind-faced woman, collapsing in her arms.
"Kid, are you all right? What happened?"
He said nothing, only wept.
She hugged him gently. "It's safe now. You'll be all right."
Finally, between sobs, he explained: bad men had killed his father. He never revealed they were royalty.
"I run an orphanage," the woman said softly. "Come with me. You'll have a home."
"And what might your name be?"
The women said softly
"…I don't have a name," the boy whispered. "Father said, in his culture, children receive their names at age ten. And… could you buy me blue lenses? He said I should always wear them."
The woman smiled warmly. "Then I'll give you a name when you turn ten. And yes, I'll get you your lenses. For now, you're safe."
She took his hand, leading him inside the orphanage. The warmth of her smile was the first comfort he had felt since losing everything.
And so, the nameless boy's new life began.
---