Fresh Start

"Bastard!!!"

Shouting at the top of his lungs and breathing heavily, the young boy sat up. He could feel a cold sweat all over him. He closed his eyes to try calm down his breathing. A powerful aura suddenly filled the room. The door opened and a man wielding a blade burst in.

"Get off my son you…." The man yelled before looking around and seeing no one was there besides the young boy in the bed.

"Sorry Father. I just had a really weird dream and woke up a little startled."

The man sighed a breath of relief before walking over and hitting the boy on the head with the hilt of the sword.

"Gave me a fright there. Alright, back to sleep, we both need to be up in a couple of hours. Big day today." He smiled before leaving the boy rubbing his head.

Surely this is some kind of child abuse. The boy thought to himself.

The boy laughed it off before lying back down and he started thinking about the dream he had. He had never been in a castle in his life, and yet the whole place felt real, detailed.

And strangely familiar.

But that was impossible. Although his father was a well renowned figure, he was hidden from the outside world. His father chose to hide and train him, awaiting the right moment to reveal him to the world. So it was impossible for him to have seen a castle before. He only knew the forest and his Clan's inner territory.

Yet that dream felt like a part of him, like he belonged there. And the lady in the white cloak. The image of her being consumed by the shadows brought a weird pain to his chest. He shook his head and forced those thoughts out of his head.

"No time for that stuff, Father is right. I have a big day ahead of me."

So he closed his eyes and went back to sleep.

When the boy woke up, his father was already in his room getting his gear ready for him. He was such a large mountain of a warrior that it was hard to see how he and his father were related, besides their facial features, their bodies were completely opposite. Even so, the young boy wanted to grow up and be as strong as his father was. He was just a boy, so he still had time to grow.

"Father, I can do it myself." The boy said as he got up and made his way to his father.

The large man looked over to him and smiled. A warmth could be seen in his eyes as he looked at his son.

"Very well then Mr Adult." He laughed as he stepped aside and let the young boy put his armor on. The young boy was well versed and seemed comfortable equipping himself, putting his twin blades on his waste, everything was very natural for him. The father wore a proud gaze as he watched his son.

"Done. Let's go." The boy said with a strong sense of resolve. The large man nodded to the young boy and walked downstairs to the front door before pausing.

The large man closed his eyes as he stood in front of the door and took a deep breath. The boy stood beside and him and did the same.

The man opened his eyes and the warmth that was previously there was now gone. Instead a cold, intimidating aura was left. Even his son was affected by it. This was no longer his warm and loving father.

Now he was the mighty warrior Azrail, the Angel of Death.

The stories of his battle prowess and countless victories were famous throughout the Kingdom of Kakuso. He was a highly regarded figure in the Kingdom.

The young boys demeanour had also changed, as he now held himself with a noble manner, almost as if he were looking down on everything in existence. He was a shining gem, being revealed to the Kingdom today for the first time, looking to follow in the footsteps of his father.

"Let's go." Azrail said coldly.

As they exited their house, they looked around at their vast territory. The Clan itself was the size of a small village. In the centre was the main Clan building, which was a large mansion type building. Behind it was a small but elegant building where the young boy and his father lived. However, it was only small in comparison to the giant building beside it. As they exited the house, there was a group of servants lined up outside, waiting for them. The two exuded a dominating presence that the atmosphere seemed to tense up immediately as the door opened. The servants all bowed to Azrail and his son. A man in a black suit who was standing the closest to Azrail and his son was the first to bow and first to rise again as he stepped forward.

"Master Azrail, Young Master. The carriage is ready to take you to the Inner Courtyard."

Azrail walked past without even acknowledging the man, who bowed again and quickly moved out of the way. The young boy followed his father, also disregarding all the butlers.

"Pride has its price to pay."

The boy stopped and turned around, looking at the servants angrily.

"Who said that? Who dares to insult my Father?!"

The servants froze in shock and confusion. The man in the black who was following behind them had a puzzled look on his face.

"Young Master, none of us said a thing. We wouldn't dare say anything ill about you or your Father. We wouldn't even dream of sullying the name of the Great Angel of Death."

Azrail's face twitched as he turned around.

"No one said anything; no one is dumb enough to try. Let's go."

The young boy looked confused for a second. He was certain he had heard a voice. But the confused look was quickly replaced by his previously arrogant face as he turned and walked to the carriage.

The man in the black climbed up the front and grabbed the reins. Azrail and his son sat down inside as the carriage headed off towards the Institute.

As they sat in silence in the carriage, the young boy was thinking about the voice he had heard.

Azrail looked at him curiously. He caught the young boy's eyes, and with a gaze seemingly communicated with his son. His son understood and nodded.

He needed to focus on the matter at hand. The boy looked outside and the Axist Castle was coming into view.

The Royal Institute of Axist was one of the top four schools in the continent. They were extremely exclusive, mainly young nobles from well off families were the only ones who attended. Like the other schools in the continent, they taught Sorcery, Tech Enchantments, Weapon Smithing and Physical Enhancing. And although they had very strong and progressive Sorcery and Tech Enchantment programs, they were widely known for their Weapon Smithing and Physical Enhancing. The other name for the Royal Institute was the "Warrior Factory" as they would produce powerful soldiers that could charge into battle and dominate any war.

A prime example would be Azrail. The young boy thought about this as they neared the Institute.

He would enter and follow the path his father walked.

Azrail could see the excitement bubbling in his son, and although there was no change in his staunch face, his eyes softened looking at his son.

They came closer to the Royal Institute which was station next to the Axist Castle. They arrived at the school gates which opened wide as they approached. The carriage entered and the young boy instantly began to look around. The Institute was extremely large and definitely lived up to its reputation. The boy saw students sparring and was itching to join in.

"Calm." Azrail spoke silently yet his words carried a strange power. The boy instantly sat back down and brought himself back under control. He could not show an image unbefitting of a noble.

"Apologies, sir."

Azrail nodded while laughing inside. He was happy that his son was excited, but knew what the young boy needed to learn and how the boy needed to act. The nobility's dance of politics was not a fun one, but was nevertheless necessary.

The carriage came to a stop in front of a grand building. Three people were standing out the front waiting. As Azrail and the young boy exited the carriage the three walked towards them.

"Welcome General Azrail. It is a privilege to have such a distinguished guest grace our establishment."

The man speaking was the tall man that stood in the middle of the three. He seemed to be around his 40's and had a clean appearance. He wore a silver and blue armor with a cape flowing behind him. He had short dark brown hair with a few greys poking through. On his left stood a man wearing glasses and in a dark blue robe. He was slightly shorter than the other man, and not nearly as bulky, but he was still extremely fit and his face had a charming attractiveness to it. On his right was a beautiful lady with black hair. Although her face was young, her eyes seemed to have an ancient look to them. She wore a modest silver robe that gave her a simple elegance.

Azrail smirked slightly as he shook the man's hand, squeezing it harder than was needed.

"Stop it with the privilege talk. I only have such a distinguished reputation because of what I learnt here. Not that its reputation means much to you, Vice Principal Zhang. It seems you are doing well today."

The Vice Principal let go of Azrail's hand gripped it with his other hand and chuckled. "Seems you are still upset at our little bet. I can give you another chance to win back some pride if you wish."

Azrail snorted in reply. "Maybe if you weren't such a scheming bastard I would take you up on that. But I'm not dumb enough to tangle with you again." He then looked at the two behind him.

"Teacher Lu, Teacher Mei. Greetings to you both."

Teacher Mei nodded her head in response while Teacher Lu stared curiously at the young boy beside Azrail. Azrail gestured for the young boy to step forward.

"This is my son. I hope that he can learn what I did and one day surpass me."

The young boy stepped forward and respectfully bowed.

"I am Arata Sato. Greetings to the respected teachers."