Delna, the capital city of the Holy Empire of Pharsheille.

It was a scorching hot day.

The sun’s glare appeared particularly blinding. Giant carrion birds roosted underneath the shade of the Malan trees that grew along the streets of the city, while peddlers and laborers alike languidly made their way across Delna’s main plaza.

Malans were berry-like fruits that only ripened during the hottest days of summer. Famous for their overwhelming sweetness, the Malan fruit was surprisingly popular with the city’s middle-class and lower-class citizens.

Right now, a couple of neighborhood children crowded around the trunk of a certain Malan tree.

They hooted and shouted as they beat the base of the tree with their crudely carved sticks. The kids wanted the ripened fruits that existed within the canopy of the tree. Unfortunately, two giant carrions stood in their way. No matter how much noise the children made, the birds simply refused to budge.

Eventually, the children admitted defeat and quickly left. Even with the nuisances gone, the birds remained unmoving.

A long time passed. When the sun began to dip beneath the horizon and soft light dyed the city in golden orange, one of the birds finally moved. It suddenly flapped its wings and flew towards the sky. The carrion circled the city for a few minutes before it landed on the rooftop of a certain white-marbled temple.

The sound of clattering swords reverberated through the air.

As if attracted to that noise, the bird’s beady eyes stared fixedly at a particular courtyard within the temple. Inside, there stood two individuals. Both of them were armed; one possessed a single sword while the other dual-wielded a pair of oversized daggers.

The two traded blows for a few minutes before a cry of agony suddenly rang out. A moment later, a small figure went flying across the courtyard. It hit the wall behind with a deafening bang.

“Aaugh…”

Fel dropped his practice sword as a raspy groan leaked out from his parched throat. He slid down against the wall and landed butt-first onto the rough earth below.

“Get up, Master. Now is not the time to rest.” Despite his clearly poor condition, the figure in front of him did not show any mercy.

“Why do I have to go through all of this, again?” Fell gritted his teeth and forced his body to stand back up. “My ability isn’t exactly related to sword fighting.”

“Why does that matter? It’s always a good thing to be strong, no matter your abilities.” A squeaky and obviously feminine voice replied back to him.

By this point, Fel finally looked up. Although his vision was somewhat obscured by the sun’s shimmering glare, reflected in his eyes was the clear figure of a female.

A little girl with short-cropped chestnut blonde hair. Her skin was the color of light olive while her eyes were that of a piercing blue. She looked to be around nine-years old, but already, she had the clear makings of a beautiful woman.

Her most notable features were the two triangular ears on her head and the swinging tail that stuck out from her lower back.

This girl was a member of the beast tribe. What’s more, she belonged to the genus of felines.

She stood directly in front of him, the distance between both parties no larger than three feet apart. Aside from the two daggers in her hands, a metal short sword hung loosely by her hips.

Fel bitterly chewed on his bottom lip as he stared vexingly at this girl.

The first words to come out of his mouth was a complaint. “Melo, I’m not a muscle freak like you. Please go easy on me.”

“No can do, Master. You know the grumpy big brother over there won’t let me slack off.” She motioned towards the man standing underneath the shade of the temple.

Fel’s expression embittered. He knew full well that the true mastermind behind all of his unpleasant experiences was actually that stone-faced young man. Asking Melo for anything was useless. Still, who could fault a guy from trying?

“Besides,” Melo suddenly flashed a toothy smile. “I also want Master to get stronger, so bear with the pain, okay~?”

Her words only further worsened his mood. The bruises on his body seemingly throbbed in pain. He wanted to reject her ‘kind’ offer, but lacked the strength to do so.

Fel breathed out a sigh of defeat. At what point did this brat start rebelling against me?

The little girl’s name was Melo Cawali.

Originally, she was a slave. Technically, she still is a slave. Fel ‘purchased’ her roughly two years ago. Since then, the two had become fast friends. It was a sort of friendship that transcended the bonds of master and slave.

Of course, the circumstances of their situation were not as clear cut as that, but the general gist of it was about the same.

“Right…” Fel wearily rubbed the back of his head. “Sometimes, I wish that you weren’t so… ‘devoted’.”

In response, Melo simple chuckled. “I always do what’s best for you, Master.”

Fel bitterly laughed.

“That’s enough talking.” Just then, a soft-spoken, yet monotone voice reached his ears. Fel subconsciously shivered before he hurriedly turned around. “I think it’s time you get back to training.”

Those words had originated from the stone-faced young man standing underneath the shade of the temple.

A man who appeared to be in his mid-twenties. He wore a slick black military uniform. The red coat of arms pinned to his uniform revealed the man’s status as a member of the Church’s prestigious First Guard.

He was Reedlim Howler, Fel’s official instructor. Reedlim was the one responsible for overseeing the young hero’s training. Unfortunately for Fel, his instructor was kind of unconventional.

Reedlim did not personally teach Fel anything. Instead, he utilized a more hands-off approach. He usually just pitted Fel against increasingly stronger opponents. This method of training simulated real combat without any of the ‘real’ part.

It wasn’t a very ‘elegant’ style of training, but the results spoke louder than words.

“Well, the grumpy big brother said it. Sorry, Master.” Melo shrugged her shoulders as she once again brandished her two daggers. Despite her apologetic words, her subsequent actions quickly revealed the hidden eagerness that this bloodthirsty little girl held deep within her heart.

As for the crown prince of Pharsheille, he could only let out a groan. He was once again plunged into the endless abyss called hero training.

****

Another hour passed. They only stopped once the sun finished its journey and the moon took its place.

Fel slumped to the ground like a dead-fish on land. Cuts and bruises littered his skin, but that was of little concern. He was inside one of the Church’s most heavily guarded temples. In a little while, Priests and clerics would come rushing in to heal his wounds.

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He slightly craned his neck and inspected his surroundings. At some point, Instructor Howler had disappeared. The only one left here with him was Melo. She squatted beside him. Her skin was near flawless, not a cut or blemish in sight.

Again, he couldn’t help but groan out in frustration. Despite their nearly six hour long sparring session, he had yet to land a single hit on her. This was not because Fel did not try. In fact, he had put his all into the training. Unfortunately, Melo was simply too good for the current him.

What made it especially frustrating was the fact that they were nearly the same age, with Melo only being two years older than him.

No, if you factor in my previous life, then I’m much older than her! Such a thought only further worsened his mood.

“What are you thinking about, Master?” Melo’s voice reached his ears and snapped him out of his reverie.

“What?” He glanced over.

“Well, you were making all sorts of painful faces, so I thought you might have something on your mind.”

“…” Fel did not immediately respond. After a while, he eventually said, “… no, I was just wondering how everyone else is doing.”

“Your hero friends?”

“Yeah… you could call them that.” He imperceptibly nodded his head.

A slew of memories flashed through his head.

Around the time he turned six, Fel’s ‘hero training’ officially started. It was something advocated by God and organized by the Orthodox church. Naturally, it did not just involve Fel, but rather, all eight of Lull’s reincarnators.

Whether it was the crown prince of Pharsheille, the ex-princess of the ruined kingdom of Merrack, or even the tea party obsessed Anastasia, every single one of them was forced to participate in a training period that would last for an indeterminant amount of time.

Even now, underneath the same twilight sky, they should all be undergoing harsh training. At least, that’s what Fel assumed.

Knowing their personalities, a few of them are probably slacking off right now…

A reminiscent smile stretched his lips. It looked wholly out of place on a seven-year-old’s face.

Of course, it’s not as if things went perfectly without a hitch.

For one, not all the heroes were particularly receptive to the church’s guidance. In retrospect, their doubt was a natural outcome, especially for a bunch of people who came from a world where corrupted churches were all the norm, whether that be in reality or fiction.

Such a mindset was brought over to Lull. For now, they complied, but who knows what sort of schemes those black hearts of theirs were plotting.

Either way, when it came time for training, most of the stubborn semi-children refused to reveal their respective abilities. Unfortunately for the church, they were a bit powerless to do anything about the issue. After all, the status of Hero allowed for some leeway and hiding a secret ability certainly qualified as one such leeway.

Normally, the heroes would have received specialized training that could better suit their respective abilities, but this was obviously not possible. As a result, the church was forced to implement an all-encompassing training curriculum that covered all sorts of subjects, whether that be magic, close combat, or any other sort of arcane art that Lull had to offer.

Luckily, the heroes were, after all, heroes. Their potential in all fields was significantly higher than most ordinary people. Over the months that passed, they showed the world just what it truly meant to be a Hero.

Take Fel for example. He was only seven this year and had only been training for a little more than a year. Still, he was already on par with an elite knight from the Church’s prestigious Second Guard. And that was even without the use of his special ability.

Of course, Fel’s situation was somewhat different from the other heroes. Even before training started, his ability had already been revealed. Unfortunately, it was a bit difficult to create a specialized training curriculum based around said ability. Fel possessed the sort of ability that could not be properly trained. At least, not by conventional standards.

Also, there was his status as the son of the Holy Emperor, which went a long way in impacting his daily schedule and subsequent training routine.

Fel’s experience, while like the others, was also not like the others.

The only other person who received a somewhat similar treatment was the hero born from a commoner, Lewin Stehle. Lewin was someone whose ability had also been revealed, but unlike with Fel, his ability was the type that could be properly fostered. As a result, the church went out of their way to tailor make a curriculum just for him.

Right now, per his ability, he should be out experiencing real battle within the forests of Maarsham, which was just west of Pharsheille.

Thinking about all this, Fel couldn’t help but feel a bit melancholic. He glanced up at the sky. The twinkling stars above looked bright, far brighter than anything he could have ever experienced back on Earth.

I didn’t think I’d ever say this, but… I miss the tea parties. An invisible sigh leaked out from his slightly parted lips.

He somewhat missed interacting with the only people in this world who came from the same place as him.

Still, it wasn’t as if he never got to meet back up with his fellow reincarnators. All eight of them would gather once every three months for a joint training session that would last for two weeks.

The next session wasn’t due for another month.

“Master?” Melo’s voice snapped him out of reverie.

Fel looked up. He stared blankly for a few seconds before a noticeable frown formed on his lips. “You… you were just here, but… when did you change?”

Unlike the sweat-stained garments that she had been previously wearing a few minutes earlier, the current Melo was dressed in a black and white maid outfit.

“What could you possible be talking about?” The little girl feigned ignorance as she presented him with a new towel.

Fel sat up and readily received the towel. As he brought it close to his face, he noticed the slight flowery scent that it emitted.

“Good job today as well, Master.” Melo stated with a gentle smile. “Maybe next time you’ll be able to actually land a hit on me.”

Her words elicited a glare from Fel. Still, he did not say anything. After all, she was his training partner. As a person who constantly triumphed during their sparring sessions, she earned the right to be arrogant.

As for her maid outfit, it was something that Fel had gotten used to. After all, for the empire’s sake, it was not good to have an uneducated slave by the crown prince’s side. As a compromise, Melo took up the identity of maid. Of course, she was still in the midst of training.

“You don’t know how to hold back your punches, do you?” He once again complained. “Can’t you show some mercy to me?”

Fel was not really the type to wholeheartedly put his everything into becoming stronger. He really only went along with training because it was what was required of him, both as a hero and as a prince. As a lonely foreigner in another world, he had no choice but to assimilate with his environment.

“Unfortunately, Master, I cannot.” She smiled a toothy smile. “After all, that’s how I was raised. As the little princess of the Cawali Tribe, I was explicitly taught to hit hardest towards the softest areas in a man’s body.”

When she spoke, a cold shiver ran down his spine. Fel’s hand subconsciously drifted towards his crotch. It had taken quite the bit of effort on his part to break her habit of attacking a man’s precious jewels.

He let out an awkward cough. “For a little princess, you don’t act like one.”

She snickered in response. “I don’t know how else to act. It can’t be helped; this was how I was raised.”

Melo unabashedly repeated.

This girl claimed herself to be a princess, but it was honestly difficult to trust anything she said. After all, this was his first time ever meeting a slave that also happened to be a princess.

In fact, her real story was not as clear cut and dry as her words made it out to be.

Melo Cawali was someone who he encountered during his fifth birthday. She had been a ‘present’ from a rather sleazy noble. That noble was eventually tried for treason and sentenced to death, but that was an unrelated story.

When Melo was six years old, she got separated from her ‘real family’. As a result, she drifted from city to city before she eventually ended up in the hands of a rather corrupted orphanage. In order to make some money, the orphanage was known to periodically sell kids to the slave traders that often passed through the city.

Melo met with this fate, where she was eventually bought by a sleazy noble in need of a suitable gift for the crown prince’s fifth birthday.

As for the Cawali tribe that Melo kept going on about, there were no such records within Pharsheille’s vast library. At the very least, the tribe was nowhere near the kingdoms of man. Of course, it might exist in the west, where beastmen and demi humans ruled the land, but Pharsheille’s knowledge of the west was severely limited, especially in the areas that did not border the kingdoms of man.

Fel could only accept the gift (girl), even if he had no intentions of owning a slave. After all, as someone who once lived on Earth, he did not really advocate for the practice of slavery. At first, he wanted to release her, but letting her loose within the heart of the empire would have done more harm than good.

Pharsheille was somewhat discriminatory. As the heart of the kingdoms of man, they naturally held a superiority complex towards the other races. As such, one could only imagine the sort of treatment that Melo would receive once she was reintroduced into the underbelly of such a messy country.

In actuality, Fel was certain that if he had tried hard enough, then he would have probably been able to find a way for Melo to safely regain her freedom, but much to his surprise, the individual in question did not actually want to leave his side.

As a result, he was forced to bitterly take on the role of slave owner.

While Fel was in the midst of daydreaming, Instructor Howler finally returned.

The cold-faced young man brought with him a priest that specialized in healing.

The priest wasted no time repairing Fel’s broken body. At the same time, Reedlim informed him of a recent development.

“You will be going out for real combat experience next week.”

“Real combat?” Fel’s eyes narrowed. Although he inwardly complained that real combat was far too soon for a seven-year-old like him, in truth, he couldn’t help but get somewhat excited.

In response, Reedlim nodded. “Yes, you will also be going with one of your fellow heroes.”

“Oh? Which one?”

“Rivel Mortimer.”

“Rivel? That Bookworm?” Fel was surprisingly okay with this development. Rivel was both antisocial and obsessed with the idea of being a hero. Still, he was a pretty easy guy to get along with… at least, if you ignored his personality hang-ups.

“Then, what sort of ‘combat’ should I hope to experience?” Fel couldn’t help but ask.

Reedlim glanced down at him. After a short pause, he answered, “It is an extermination mission. The church has located a Pagan Base.”