CHAPTER 44: (SKIP ) LEON SIDE STORY

Author Note : Mistakenly Uploaded an early Chapter please skip it.Go down I have Updated with Leon Side Story before he attended the Academy and if don’t like, it is an Skipable Chapter.

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For a long moment, I just stood reathing. My hands still trembled faintly around the leather-bound tome tucked beneath my arm—the Siekie Ryoku Arts.

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Chapter 44: Leon Story

(Leon POV, Age 14)

The day I awakened my System wasn’t glorious.

It wasn’t divine, or epic, or written in the stars.

It was just... humiliating.

---

I still remember the training yard that afternoon.

The clang of steel. The roars of older cadets sparring. The scornful laughter when my wooden sword slipped from my grip again and clattered across the dirt.

"Pathetic."

"Are you sure you’re even a Lionheart?"

"He’s nothing like Emily."

I picked up the sword with trembling hands. My palms were raw. Blisters dotted my fingers. My chest heaved as I raised the blade again.

But my opponent—a boy barely older than me, already E-rank—smirked and stepped forward. His sword was polished, his stance perfect.

"Again," I muttered, setting my feet.

The spar lasted three seconds.

His strike smashed through my guard, slammed into my ribs, and sent me sprawling in the dirt. Dust filled my mouth, my ears ringing from the impact.

Laughter rippled from the sidelines.

"Illegitimate trash."

"He thinks he can stand next to Emily Lionheart? What a joke."

Emily.

Of course. Always Emily.

The prodigy. The golden daughter. The pride of Lionheart.

And me? I wasn’t even recognized as my father’s son. I was a shadow, a reminder of a scandal. A mistake.

But when I looked up from the dirt that day—just for a heartbeat—I thought I saw someone watching me.

Someone I couldn’t name.

And then—

---

[Ding!]

A sound rang in my head. Sharp. Metallic. Like a bell struck inside my skull.

I froze.

"...What was that?"

No one else seemed to hear it. The cadets walked away, bored. My opponent muttered something about "wasting his time" and left.

But the voice remained.

Cold. Mechanical.

[Initializing... System link established.]

[Welcome, Leon Lionheart.]

My mouth went dry.

"What... the hell?"

[System functions unlocked.]

[Function 1: Store – Purchase items, skills, and resources.]

[Function 2: Quest – Complete challenges to earn System Coins.]

I blinked. Once. Twice.

"...Is this some kind of joke?"

But the text hovered in my vision, clear as the sun overhead.

A system. Like in the novels. Like in the games.

And it was talking to me.

---

"Alright," I whispered, half-crazed, half-terrified. "If you’re real... show me something."

[Tutorial Quest generated.]

Quest: First Step

Condition: Defeat a wooden training dummy within ten minutes.

Reward: 10 System Coins.

"...A dummy?"

I almost laughed. Almost cried.

Even the System thought I was pathetic.

Still... I staggered to my feet. My ribs ached, my pride was shattered, but something deep inside me—the part of me that still wanted to prove I was more than Emily’s shadow—burned.

I picked up my wooden sword.

The dummy stood in the corner of the yard. Stupid thing. I’d struck it a hundred times before, and each time I felt weaker than the last.

But this time—

This time was different.

"Rising Fang," I whispered, forcing my body into the first form of the Lionheart sword style.

The blade swept upward. Awkward. Shaky.

[Critical Strike registered.]

The dummy’s head snapped back, splinters flying.

I blinked.

"...Wait. That actually worked?"

[Quest complete.]

[Reward: 10 Coins.]

A small pouch icon appeared in my vision, glowing faintly.

I opened the store instinctively. And then—

My breath caught.

Weapons. Armors. Elixirs. Techniques.

All listed with prices I couldn’t begin to afford. But they were there.

And for the first time in my life... I felt possibility.

Not despair.

Not rejection.

Possibility.

---

[Special Reward: Holy Flame Affinity acquired.]

The words burned brighter than fire.

And suddenly—heat surged through my veins. Not scorching, not painful, but warm. Alive.

I gasped, stumbling, as sparks flickered across my fingers. Tiny embers danced on my palm, shimmering gold instead of red.

Holy flame.

Something no one in my family had ever awakened.

I stared at my hand, trembling.

For years, I had been nothing. The bastard son. The weakling. The mistake.

But now...

Now, I had something Emily didn’t.

A secret.

A fire that was mine alone.

---

I spent the rest of the evening alone in the training yard, striking the dummy again and again, each swing punctuated by ragged breaths and whispered curses.

"Rising Fang."

"Crushing Claw."

My blade sparked with tiny flickers of flame. Weak, unstable, but mine.

Every time I struck, the System chimed in.

[Form execution: 60%.]

[Error in stance: Adjust right foot.]

[Correction applied: Power increased by 5%.]

It was like having a teacher in my head. A cold, unyielding teacher who didn’t care about my feelings, only about results.

And for once... I didn’t mind.

Because it was teaching me.

Not Emily.

Not the noble cadets.

Me.

---

By the time night fell, I collapsed in the dirt, my body aching, my sword slipping from my fingers.

But I was smiling.

For the first time in years, I was smiling.

Because I wasn’t worthless anymore.

Because I had a path.

Because the System had chosen me.

And as I lay beneath the stars, the embers flickering faintly around me, I whispered to the night:

"...I’ll prove it. To my father. To Emily. To everyone."

The System chimed once more, like a heartbeat syncing with my own.

[Quest generated: Become worthy of the Lionheart name.]

[Reward: ???]

I closed my eyes.

And dreamed of fire.

------

(Leon Lionheart POV, Age 15)

The Lionheart estate glittered with light.

Silken banners hung from gilded walls, enchanted crystals floated overhead, and nobles paraded through the grand hall in tailored suits and jeweled gowns. Tonight was my father’s birthday banquet—the kind of event that reminded the world just how untouchable the Lionheart family truly was.

And me?

I stood near the far wall, clutching a half-filled goblet, trying not to look like a servant.

Because that’s what I was, wasn’t I? An illegitimate stain in a hall of shining names.

"...Tch." I downed the wine, even though it burned my throat.

It wasn’t supposed to matter. I had the System now. The Holy Flame affinity. A secret that gave me hope.

But secrets didn’t silence whispers.

"Who let him in?"

"Ah, the bastard boy. They say Arnab pitied him."

"He should be grateful he even breathes Lionheart air."

Their words slithered around me like smoke.

I was used to it. Almost numb. Almost.

Until I heard a new voice. Loud. Unapologetic.

"Hah! So this is the so-called illegitimate cub of Lionheart?"

I looked up.

A boy my age strode through the crowd, silver hair wild, wolf ears twitching with amusement. His suit looked like it had been forced onto him; the tie was crooked, the jacket slightly torn at the shoulder. And yet... he walked like he owned the place.

A beastkin.

He stopped in front of me, sharp grin flashing.

"You’re Leon, right? The forgotten pup?"

My jaw clenched. "...And you are?"

"Aiden Stormfang," he said proudly, puffing his chest. "Heir of the Stormfang clan. Remember the name, bastard boy."

Stormfang.

Beastkin nobility. Warriors famous for their ferocity on the battlefield.

Of course. My father had invited them. The Lionhearts never missed a chance to remind the world of their alliances.

Aiden tilted his head, eyes gleaming with mischief. "So, tell me, Leon. How does it feel, living in the shadow of Emily Lionheart? Must be suffocating, yeah?"

The laughter around us sharpened. Nobles leaned closer, eager for drama.

I swallowed hard. The old me would’ve looked down, endured it, prayed for the moment to pass.

But not anymore.

Not after the System. Not after the flame.

I straightened, forcing myself to meet his eyes. "Better than being a mutt who doesn’t know how to tie his own suit."

The hall went silent.

Aiden blinked. Then—

He burst out laughing. "Hah! Not bad, bastard boy. Not bad at all."

But his grin didn’t soften. If anything, it sharpened, wolfish.

"Care to prove those words? Outside. A duel."

Gasps rippled through the crowd. Duels between heirs weren’t uncommon, but between me and him?

Suicidal.

Emily’s gaze burned into me from across the hall. I knew she wanted me to refuse. To avoid dragging the family name lower than it already was.

But my blood was already boiling.

"Fine," I said. "Outside."

---

The training yard behind the estate was lit by moonlight, the polished tiles glowing faintly with runes. Nobles gathered on the balconies, whispering eagerly.

Aiden tossed aside his jacket, flexing his fingers. His nails lengthened, faint sparks of lightning crackling at the tips.

"So, bastard boy, show me what you’ve got."

I tightened my grip on my wooden practice sword. The only weapon I was allowed.

The System’s faint chime echoed in my head.

[Quest: Defeat Aiden Stormfang.]

[Reward: 30 Coins.]

My pulse quickened.

"Rising Fang," I whispered, sliding into stance.

Aiden lunged first. His movements were raw, feral, his speed shocking for someone our age. Claws slashed down, sparks flying.

I blocked—barely. The impact rattled my arms, forcing me back two steps.

"Not bad!" Aiden laughed, already pressing forward. "At least you don’t collapse on the first strike!"

I gritted my teeth. My sword blurred upward in a desperate arc.

The blade scraped his arm, a shallow cut—but it burned faintly gold. Holy flame flickered along the wound.

Aiden froze. His grin widened.

"...You’ve got flame."

"Holy flame," I corrected, chest heaving.

The whispers on the balcony sharpened, shock rippling through the nobles.

Holy flame. Something even Emily had not awakened.

Aiden threw back his head and howled with laughter. "Hah! No wonder you’ve got some bite."

And then his claws crackled brighter, his stance shifting.

"Good. Then I won’t hold back."

---

The duel blurred into flashes.

Claw against steel. Sparks against embers. His raw strength slammed against my shaky technique. My System guided me, correcting footwork, adjusting timing. But even with that, he was overwhelming.

Still... I refused to yield.

Every strike I blocked, every scratch I landed—it all stoked the fire inside me.

Until finally, with one last desperate swing, I managed to knock him back a step.

We froze there. Both of us panting, both grinning despite the blood.

Then Aiden laughed again.

"You’re fun, bastard boy. I like you."

I blinked. "...What?"

"You heard me. Most nobles here are stuffed-up corpses walking in fancy coats. But you? You fight." He extended his hand, grin wide. "Let’s be friends."

The crowd gasped again, this time in disbelief.

I stared at his hand. At his stupid grin. At the boy who had just called me bastard and tried to claw my face off.

And for some reason... I found myself smiling back.

"...You’re insane," I muttered, gripping his hand.

"Damn right I am," Aiden said proudly. "But so are you."

---

That was the night we clashed.

And the night I gained my first real friend.

Not because I wanted one. Not because I sought one.

But because Aiden Stormfang decided I was worth keeping.

And for once, I didn’t feel like just a shadow.

I felt like someone who could stand.