Andy, a mere seventeen years of age, stood three years younger than twenty-year-old Golsworthy.

Golsworthy, born to a carpenter father and seamstress mother, had lived a comfortable, uneventful life, a stark contrast to Andy's challenging upbringing as an orphan.

Andy's street smarts gave him a sharp edge, a keen awareness that Golsworthy lacked.

Golsworthy joined the town militia for the stability of a paid position, hoping it would be a stepping stone to a better life in a more prosperous town.

Andy, however, joined with the burning ambition of becoming a truly formidable warrior. They were two sides of the same coin, yet vastly different.

This difference extended to their work ethic and natural talent.

Golsworthy often sought opportunities to shirk his duties during morning drills and sparring, conserving his energy whenever possible.

Andy, on the other hand, approached each day with fervor, pouring his heart and soul into every training session.

He was arguably the second strongest militia member in the local garrison, rapidly closing the gap between himself and Sergeant Ubbehus.

While neither could be considered masters, merely cannon fodder in the grand scheme of war, the disparity in their skills was evident, particularly in Andy's effortless victories over Golsworthy.

In fact, Andy was confident he could best most of the apprentice-level guards in the esteemed Charles family in single combat.

His physical prowess, combined with his proficiency in swordsmanship and combat techniques, placed him near the rank of an apprentice warrior.

"Alright, alright! I'm just hungry… that roasted meat smells divine," Golsworthy grumbled. "I didn't grow up like you… how would I know about the square's security?"

"Whether you know or not, if you're thinking of stealing, you'd better be able to defeat a Shadow Guard or outrun them," Andy retorted.

"They're noble house guards… far superior to regular militia. I wouldn't recommend it… unless you're willing to put in some serious training." A smirk played on his lips, recalling his own eager, albeit often painful, skirmishes with members of the Charles family.

No matter how badly he was beaten, he always returned for more.

"We can't all be battle-crazed masochists like you, Andy. You're a proper oddity. You'll fit right in at Killerbrown when you get transferred."

Golsworthy's assessment of his character stung.

Andy's lips thinned, a flush creeping up his neck, but he couldn't deny the truth in it.

In this life, he had been a troublemaker, ever since he was young. Within a week of entering the orphanage, the tougher children had learned this the hard way.

They were both awed by his tenacity and bravery, and exasperated by his recklessness and impulsiveness.

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Andy challenged authority figures whenever he sensed injustice, regardless of their status. This earned him his fair share of hardship at the orphanage, but also a grudging respect from some.

With a huff, Andy dismissed Golsworthy, returning his focus to observing the flow of pedestrians. Time ticked by, and soon midday arrived.

As foretold, the majestic trumpets of Igera's Spire, the tallest tower in the capital, blared across the city, their sound carrying an almost supernatural resonance.

A melodic voice followed, projected from the distant capital, yet possessing a soothing yet invigorating power.

"To the brave and industrious citizens of the glorious Igeran Republic, I, Councilman Ulysses Enoch Godfrey, your elected leader of the Council, speak to you on this day of celebration and remembrance, the one hundred and twentieth anniversary of our liberation from the Natrenian Empire!"

The announcement sparked a wave of excitement across the square. Some waved their arms and cheered, others leaped and shouted their joy. Even Andy felt a surge of patriotic fervor, a yearning to join the revelry. He gritted his teeth, forcing himself to remain focused, turning back to his surveillance.

That's when he saw them: ten figures approaching the square, clad in the Republic Army's uniform, their movements synchronized, each one fully armed. They marched with a determined stride, weapons glinting ominously in the sunlight.

"On this auspicious day, I thank you, citizens of our Republic, for your hard work, courage, and sacrifice, which have made our way of life and the freedom we won from the tyrannical Natrenians a reality," the announcement continued.

Golsworthy, completely captivated, stared in the direction of the voice, oblivious to his surroundings. Andy clapped him on the shoulder and moved towards the ten figures in Republic Army attire.

"Republic Army? I must inquire as to the purpose of your presence here. Neither the Charles family nor our militia command has informed us of your arrival," Andy questioned, a sense of foreboding washing over him. He instinctively rested his hand on the hilt of his sword.

"We have business with the Charles family. I suggest you step aside, militiaman," one of them replied. His demeanor, and the deference shown to him by the others, marked him as the leader.

The man's words dripped with arrogance, but Andy knew that in this world, power spoke louder than words. They were Republic Army, official soldiers.

What was the Sapolara City Militia compared to them? Andy surmised that this man and his squad were at least Adepts, or they wouldn't speak with such blatant disregard.

He wished, in that moment, that he possessed the observation skills of the nobles and their guards, the ability to see titles and names.

Andy glanced around and saw a cavalry unit of five, including a Charles family Shadow Guard, galloping towards the square.

Then, he noticed Griffin Riders descending from the sky.

As they drew closer, he realized they weren't the standard brown-feathered, saddled griffins of the cavalry, but silver-feathered, plate-armored beasts.

Only military griffins were of this breed. Suddenly, a blinding light erupted from the lead Griffin Rider, and a large, luminous object hurtled towards the square. Andy stared, bewildered. Was that magic?

"Unfortunately, freedom is never free. Sometimes, safeguarding it requires purging the rot from within. So, on this auspicious day, I call upon my fellow citizens of the Igeran Republic to stand united, for freedom has a price, and sometimes it demands that we confront enemies both within and without."

The announcement echoed across the square. As the final words faded, the Republic Army soldiers drew their weapons. The metallic rasp filled the air, followed by a flash of steel. The massacre of the Charles family had begun.

Andy watched in horror. First, he saw the head of a Charles family Shadow Guard go flying. An Adept, slain as easily as a chicken. Then, he saw the luminous projectile launched by the military Griffin Rider reach the tavern, colliding with a previously unseen, magically shimmering shield.

The world turned orange, bathed in the searing light of an explosion.

Years of rigorous training saved him. With every ounce of strength, he leaped, his body propelled like an arrow for several yards, before diving behind a stall.

The shockwave from the blast aided his jump, sending him further than he'd ever leaped before, landing hard dozens of meters away.

The devastating force of the fireball slammed into his chest, sending a searing pain through him. He coughed, blood splattering the ground.