Morning sunlight poured through the marble windows of the Verdalis royal palace, touching the flagstones with a gentle golden glow. The air was crisp — calm, yet heavy with anticipation.
Issac Steelheart walked alone through the palace corridor, his footsteps echoing softly against the grand walls lined with banners of past heroes. His heart thudded with quiet determination. Today was his first step into something greater.
At the far end of the hall stood the royal court, where the great double doors opened to reveal the King of Verdalis himself. A tall man with silver hair and eyes like tempered steel, his very presence demanded respect.
Prince Ravender stood beside him, wearing a faint, proud smile.
Issac knelt before the throne. "Your Majesty, Issac Steelheart reporting as summoned."
The King regarded him for a long moment. "You saved my daughter, young one," he said, his tone both regal and sincere. "For that, Verdalis owes you a debt that cannot be repaid with words."
Issac lowered his head humbly. "I only did what was right, Your Majesty."
The King's voice deepened. "Then let my gratitude be shown in action. From this day forth, I name you Baron of Steelheart Plains. You shall receive five hundred acres of land and protection under the crown."
Gasps rose among the courtiers. To grant a young boy noble rank for valor — such an honor was rare.
Issac blinked in disbelief. "Your Majesty… I—"
"Stand tall, Issac," the King interrupted with a faint smile. "The people of Verdalis need warriors like you. Protect them, as you protected my daughter."
Prince Ravender stepped forward, resting a firm hand on Issac's shoulder. "Come, my friend. The throne has spoken."
---
The Dawn of Duty
Later that day, Issac walked along the royal veranda beside Ravender, the two of them overlooking the sprawling city of Verdalis below — a sea of rooftops and distant mountain peaks.
Ravender folded his arms. "You've been given land and a title. But a true warrior's path doesn't end with nobility."
Issac turned to him curiously. "What do you mean, Your Highness?"
Ravender grinned, his golden eyes glinting. "Join the military, Issac. Serve under the banner of Verdalis. You've got the heart of a fighter… but now, you must learn how to lead."
Issac hesitated. "The military?"
"Yes. It will test you, mold you. You'll learn more about your spirit, your limits, and your purpose. Think of it as… training for the man you're meant to become."
Issac gazed toward the horizon. "Then I accept."
---
Verdalis Military Academy
The Verdalis Fortress was more than a training ground — it was a crucible where the weak were reforged into warriors.
From the moment Issac stepped onto the stone field, he was surrounded by the roars of spirit beasts and the clash of steel. Recruits of all kinds sparred in the blazing sun — some with flame-wreathed fists, others commanding phantom beasts.
Issac was different. His aura was faint, his power quiet. Many mocked him — "the baron who can't even summon properly."
He didn't respond. Instead, he trained.
Day after day.
Night after night.
When others slept, Issac was still moving — pushing his limits, synchronizing with the faint pulse of the White Tiger within him.
One cold night, as the moonlight bathed the training grounds, Issac's breath came in short gasps. His body trembled.
You can't give up now…
A low growl resonated within him.
From the shadows, the White Tiger spirit emerged — massive, elegant, with eyes that burned like silver flames.
The beast circled him once, its gaze piercing into his soul, then vanished into him like mist.
The next morning, Issac stood before the captain's bell and unleashed his aura — silver light bursting from his body like lightning. The recruits froze.
The quiet boy had awakened.
---
Two Years Later – The Eastern Rebellion
Verdalis trembled under the threat of rebellion. Smoke rose from the eastern border as bandits and rogue spirit users united under a false banner.
Issac, now a lieutenant, stood in full armor — black and silver, tiger crest gleaming on his shoulder. The White Tiger spirit shimmered faintly behind him.
"Steelheart!" shouted the captain. "Frontline with Squad Five. Hold the gate!"
The ground quaked as enemies charged. Blades clashed, spirits roared — the battlefield was chaos incarnate.
Issac darted forward, his movements blurring.
His dagger slashed through air, cutting down two foes in a flash of light.
But the rebels were relentless. A flaming serpent spirit lunged — Issac barely blocked it, his arm bleeding.
"Steady your heart," he whispered to himself, echoing his father's old advice.
The White Tiger's aura surged. Silver lightning arced through the ground as Issac's speed exploded.
He struck faster than sight, cutting through the serpent's master with precision.
When the battle ended, the flag of Verdalis still flew high.
And among the soldiers, a whisper began — "The Silver Fang of Verdalis."
---
Years 3–4: Brotherhood Forged in War
Over time, Issac's name spread across the kingdom. He rose quickly through the ranks — his calm leadership and relentless training catching Prince Ravender's eye.
The two often met during campaigns, sparring late at night under torchlight.
"Your movements have sharpened," Ravender said one evening, their blades locked.
Issac smiled faintly. "Maybe I'm finally catching up."
Ravender laughed. "Not yet, my friend."
Between missions, they shared quiet meals, dreams of peace, and the weight of command.
Letters from Vaela arrived now and then — her handwriting full of warmth and teasing remarks. "Don't forget to eat properly, you stubborn tiger."
Those letters kept him grounded, even amid war.
---
Year 5 – The War of Two Suns
The Verdalis banners once again marched to war — this time against the Zenthar Dominion, a kingdom that commanded the power of fire spirits.
The battlefield was a sea of flames and lightning.
Issac, now a commander, led a battalion of spirit users, his armor gleaming like silver fire. The roar of his White Tiger echoed across the valley, shaking friend and foe alike.
"Hold the line!" he shouted, his voice carrying through the chaos.
When the Zenthar generals unleashed their phoenix spirit, the sky turned crimson.
But Issac stood his ground. His eyes glowed pale silver as he raised his hand — aura bursting outward.
The Tiger roared.
Thunder fell.
Flame met lightning, and lightning devoured flame.
By dusk, Zenthar's army was broken.
But at the cost of many lives.
As Issac knelt among his fallen men, Ravender placed a hand on his shoulder. "You did what you had to do. You saved the kingdom again."
Issac's voice was low. "I couldn't save them all."
Ravender looked into his eyes. "That guilt means you're human. And that's why you'll never become a monster like them."
---
Year 7 – The Coronation of Valor
The war had ended. Verdalis stood victorious.
The grand palace was filled with banners and light. Trumpets sounded as the royal court assembled.
Issac Steelheart walked the carpet in full general's armor — silver plates etched with the mark of the White Tiger. The air crackled faintly with power as he kneeled before the throne once more.
The King stood. "For seven years of loyal service, bravery, and sacrifice — I hereby bestow upon Issac Steelheart the title of General of Verdalis."
The hall erupted in applause. Even the hardened generals saluted in respect.
Prince Ravender stepped forward, smiling widely. "From today, you are not only my friend but my right hand — the blade that guards Verdalis."
Issac bowed deeply. "It's an honor, Your Highness."
Princess Diya watched from the balcony, her lips curving into a soft smile. Vaela, standing among the soldiers, felt a quiet pride — the boy she once trained beside now stood at the summit.
---
The Night of Reflection
That night, the palace was quiet.
Ravender and Issac stood on the high balcony overlooking Verdalis. The moon hung low, bathing the city in silver light.
"You've grown, Issac," Ravender said. "Seven years ago, you were just a reckless boy with a dagger. Now the whole kingdom calls you a legend."
Issac leaned on the railing, eyes calm. "Legends are born of blood and scars, my friend. I only walked the path that destiny set."
Ravender chuckled. "Always so serious."
Below them, the city lights flickered like stars fallen to earth.
Issac looked down at his gloved hands — faint lines of silver pulsing under his skin. The Mystique Core within him trembled faintly, as if whispering that something greater still awaited.
A messenger bird landed nearby, a scroll tied to its leg.
Ravender took it, his eyes narrowing. "A report… from the northern border."
Issac turned. "What does it say?"
Ravender's voice lowered. "Unidentified spirit activity. Entire patrol missing."
Issac's gaze hardened, lightning flickering behind his eyes.
"So peace… was only the silence before the storm."
Thunder rolled across the night sky.
The White Tiger within him stirred — faintly, powerfully, ready.
And as the winds howled over the shining city of Verdalis, Issac Steelheart — General of the White Tiger — stood tall against the coming storm.
---