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It has been a month since I awoke in this new world. My physical condition has improved significantly, and my face now glows with a vitality I never knew. The reflection in the mirror no longer feels foreign—in fact, I've grown used to these new features... even finding a striking handsomeness in them that others seem to notice as well.
But the most profound change wasn't physical—it was what I discovered about myself. When I underwent the elemental magic affinity tests, the entire hall stood in stunned silence. I had been chosen by not one, but two of the rarest and most dangerous categories.
The first was Shadow Magic—feared across the ages. A type that allows one to move through darkness, vanish into shadows, and conjure blades of pure black. In the entire recorded history, there have been fewer than three users.
The second… was not of this world, but from the ancient arts of the ninja—Lightning and Thunder Ninjutsu. It grants the swiftness of lightning and the devastating power of thunder. To possess even one of these disciplines is nearly impossible.
And yet, I had both.
My father—the Duke of House Gold—ordered the royal guards to scour the city for the best ninja available, to serve as both my mentor and protector. Days later, they returned with a name that shocked everyone: Yazan, the Thunder Ninja. A man who had deserted the army a decade ago after the infamous Outlaw War. His name was inscribed in imperial records… as a traitor.
As if that weren't enough, I learned something else: Lisa, my sole companion, was far more powerful than she let on. A master of metal magic—specifically Steel Sorcery. She had kept her true strength hidden, only to reveal it in our first training session two days ago. She pushed me to my limits, made me run until I gasped, fight until I could barely stand. But in that brutal lesson, I unlocked something extraordinary… my shadow magic, raw and real.
The training was harsh. I was injured more than once. But every wound taught me something. Every failed spell brought me a step closer to mastery. Despite her tough demeanor and frequent scolding, Lisa was kind. She cared for me in silence… and she was beautiful.
That morning, she was nowhere to be found in the manor. I asked my father, who told me she had gone out with Hulk—his personal guard—to bring back my new teacher. Hulk was massive beyond reason, a user of Equipment Magic, specifically the "Blast Cannon" type. His strength was terrifying… but his heart was gentle, and he had a fondness for jokes.
In House Gold, each heir is assigned two personal companions. But I had only one: Lisa.
Or so it was... until now.
A sudden scream echoed through the estate. I rushed to the window and saw Hulk dragging a man in heavy iron chains, snarling and biting at the steel. The man cursed furiously while Lisa mocked him:
"That's a first-class binding spell, you wrinkled fool. You won't break it."
He snapped back, "And who are you calling wrinkled, you rusty tin can?"
Lisa's face turned crimson with fury. She summoned her steel blade.
"I'm cutting your head off right now!"
But the Duke intervened.
"Enough, Lisa. We won't kill him… not yet. We need him."
Yazan shouted, "You people are insane!"
My father stepped forward, his voice cold and clear.
"Yazan. Will you become my son's companion, mentor… and servant?"
"Never!" Yazan barked defiantly.
The Duke shrugged.
"I expected that. But remember this, Yazan. The Empire has sentenced you to death. If I hand you over, they'll shatter every bone in your body and feed you to the wild hounds. If I let you go, you'll starve like you have for years. But if you join us… you'll have food, shelter, protection—and a hundred gold yals every month."
Silence fell. Then Yazan, eyes glistening with tears, whispered:
"I accept."
Lisa dispelled the binding spell. As the magic faded, Yazan chuckled while dusting himself off.
"How could you do this to a weak, starving old man like me?"
Hulk patted his shoulder and smiled.
"You nearly escaped both me and Lisa while half-dead and starving. You're no ordinary man, old timer."
We returned to the manor. I ordered the servants to prepare a feast. Yazan devoured his food silently, tears slipping down his cheeks. Lisa watched him and whispered:
"Idiot... where have you been all this time? I missed you."
Behind her, Hulk stood quietly, a sorrowful smile on his lips—as if he knew more than he let on.
After the meal, I said,
"Go bathe and change into the house uniform."
When Yazan emerged from the bath, everyone was stunned. He wasn't the ragged fugitive we had captured—he was a man of breathtaking beauty. Deep blue eyes, long black hair tinged with sapphire, falling past his shoulders.
"Impossible…" I murmured. "He's… incredibly handsome."
He greeted us all with a soft smile… and collapsed unconscious.
I had him moved to his room to rest. The next day, I went to visit him. I knocked, and he called out:
"Come in. Your teacher awaits."
I sat beside him on the bed and asked quietly:
"Yazan… why did you run from the army?"
He gave a sad smile.
"If you really want to know, then you must hear my story."
I nodded, sighing.
"I'm all ears."
He began, the words flowing like ghosts of the past:
"I grew up an orphan. No parents. No family. I was raised by an old shepherd woman. She was unmarried, with a terrible burn across her face—but to me, she was the most beautiful woman alive. I helped her with the flocks, and she taught me how to survive, how to fight, how to be a man. She was my whole world.
One summer, during the Harvest Festival, bandits attacked the village. They slaughtered the men and dragged off the women and children. I fled into the forest with her, but she was slow… they caught us. One of them looked at her face and said:
'She's burned. Kill her.'
I begged them, screamed… but they stabbed her in the chest. She died in my arms, trembling. Her final words were:
'Don't cry… be strong.'
After that, they took me in chains to the slave markets. Years passed. I was sold from one master to the next. Starved, beaten, abused. Until one day, no one wanted to buy me. I was the last, the trash.
That day, an imperial battalion raided the slavers. Led by Commander Dany Lenheid. I'll never forget his name. He saw me and took me in. Raised me like a son, taught me to fight with pride.
I grew up in his home. I joined the army. That's where I met Lisa. I loved her… and I married her. They were the happiest days of my life."
Here, his voice trembled. His lips quivered. But he continued:
"Then came the curse. Commander Dany was accused of treason—said to have aided the rebel faction. Naturally, they blamed me too. The death sentence came swiftly.
That day, he looked me in the eyes and said,
'Run, my son.'
I cried, begged him to flee with me. But he slapped me and said,
'You are the future. Now run!'
So I ran… and ever since, I've lived like a hunted beast. Eating from garbage, sleeping in the cold, avoiding people… until yesterday, when you caught me."
Unbeknownst to him, Lisa stood just outside the door. She had been listening in silence, tears streaming down her cheeks. She covered her mouth, trying to muffle her sobs… and disappeared into the corridor.
I looked into Yazan's eyes and said:
"Starting tomorrow, you will train me in Lightning Ninjutsu. Lisa… will train me in Shadow Magic."
He looked at me in shock, and whispered to himself:
"Two of the rarest types… Who the hell is this boy?"