【Clawphire's Rules】
First, mocking Servia's fear of the dark is forbidden.
Second, mocking Servia's fear of thunder is forbidden.
Third, mocking Servia's fear of both darkness and thunder is forbidden.
A smooth, broad road stretched from the left side of Clawphire's territory to the garden at its end, flanked by silver maple trees standing tall, their leaves shimmering with a metallic sheen on windless days.
Farming, blacksmithing, tending horses, baking—
Everyone on this land had their role to play.
But before long,
The air grew damp and chilly, sunlight dimmed, and vast clouds swallowed the sky, drowning fields and mountains alike.
"Is it going to rain?"
"Quick, close the windows for Lady Servia!"
Inside the manor's garden, two maids stood guard by a wooden door. Seeing the darkening sky outside, they quietly entered the room to shut the specially designed soundproof windows for the young girl.
They also turned on the lights to keep the room from growing dim.
The entire process was carried out in silence.
From entering to leaving, even the shift in the room's brightness, none of it drew the attention of the girl on the bed.
She lay on her stomach,
Her petite frame sinking into the soft mattress.
Propped up on her elbows, she occasionally flipped through the storybook before her. When particularly engrossed, her legs would paddle up and down like oars against the white bedding.
"Yes, just like that!"
"Shuka the Brave, seal away the evil Headless Knight with your holy sword!"
"Charge!"
Tiny Servia cheered loudly.
Her eyes followed the story's plot, conjuring vivid scenes of fierce, heroic battles as she imagined herself as the world-saving protagonist.
By the climax,
She was already standing on the bed.
Gripping a wooden toy sword, she swung it with exaggerated flair.
"Whoosh—"
"Ha—"
"It's time! Brave Servia, unleash your ultimate holy sword and save the world!"
"Evil-slaying, holy-light cross slash!"
The young girl brandished her wooden sword like a fledgling bird flapping its wings, her soft, clumsy movements utterly endearing.
Especially her exaggeratedly serious expression—
It was enough to make anyone smile.
At the very least, the two maids outside the door exchanged amused glances.
"Lady Servia is adorable."
"Being her personal maid is the luckiest thing in my life."
Their hushed conversation was abruptly cut off by the sound of a turning doorknob.
Before the maids could react, the wooden door swung open, and a small figure dashed out of the room, toy sword in hand, sprinting toward the manor's entrance.
"Lady Servia, wait!"
"Please, slow down!"
The maids hurried after her, calling out with outstretched hands.
But Servia, caught up in her excitement, wasn’t listening.
Brimming with energy, she charged forward, gripping her "holy sword" tightly: "Brave Servia, it's time for your grand adventure! Onward!"
Her childish voice rang with fragile confidence—
A confidence that soared with her sprint but plummeted the moment she saw the storm-darkened world beyond the door.
"BOOM!!!"
Lightning split the sky.
Thunder rolled across the land.
Torrential rain poured down in furious sheets, a blinding white curtain roaring from the heavens.
The sheer, overwhelming force of nature instantly doused Servia's tiny burst of courage, leaving her hesitant and shrinking back.
"Lady Servia!"
Finally catching up, the maids sighed in relief when they saw her frozen at the threshold, not daring to step into the storm.
Just as they moved to pull her back inside, Servia turned on her own and retreated toward her room.
"Lady Servia, are you not going out anymore?"
"N-no! I can’t make Father and Mother worry."
Her reply was earnest,
Her footsteps quickening with each distant rumble of thunder.
The maids trailed behind, struggling to stifle their laughter. Try as they might, little Servia was just too precious.
Fortunately,
They were professionals.
Keeping their expressions neutral, they escorted Servia back to her room, preparing afternoon sweets and a fresh picture book of heroic tales.
A child's mind is simple.
Soon, the storm outside was forgotten as Servia nibbled on treats and lost herself in stories of valor.
Tales of salvation and chivalric virtues etched themselves into her heart, guiding her into the future.
The rain ceased.
The winds stilled.
As the sky cleared, little Servia dashed outside once more.
This time, the maids didn’t stop her, only smiling as she ran off.
"Charge! Charge! Charge!"
Her small figure wobbled across the wet grass,
Her wooden sword flailing wildly, knocking down the overgrown blades with clumsy swings.
Before long,
Her platinum hair clung to her forehead, damp with rain and sweat.
Her bright green eyes grew weary.
"Servia, why are you out here again?" A noblewoman approached, scooping the girl into a gentle embrace.
"Mother, I—" Servia panted, "I’m training to be a brave hero!"
"Is that so?"
"My Servia is so impressive."
The woman laughed, carrying her back toward the manor. "Such a hardworking girl deserves a reward."
Tall black iron gates, entwined with crimson roses, dripped with rainwater, each drop tapping the ground below.
Sunlight pierced the clouds,
Streaming through the gaps in the gates,
Illuminating the stone path beneath mother and daughter.
"Mother, what’s my reward?" Servia asked eagerly.
"Something you’ve been looking forward to."
"A giant cake from the capital?"
"Not quite. Something even better."
The noblewoman wore a mysterious smile.
No matter how much Servia pouted or pleaded, she refused to reveal the surprise.
Only when evening fell, during the Clawphire family banquet, did Servia’s father—the current Grand Knight-Lord of Clawphire—unveil the truth.
"Servia."
"Starting tomorrow, you’ll begin knightly training."
"Breathing techniques, combat skills, horsemanship—all of it."
"If you refuse, now is the time."
His gaze was tender,
Reluctant to see her suffer,
Yet respecting her choice.
Servia didn’t hesitate. She made her decision like a true hero: "I’ll do it! I’ll become Brave Servia!"
The wooden toy sword became a heavy knight’s blade.
Elegant dresses gave way to sturdy steel armor.
Clawphire’s emerald jewel shone among the stars and mountains, her countless sword swings earning her the kingdom’s honors and acclaim.
A rising star, celebrated and adored by her people.
The young knight bowed her head,
Her right hand gripping her sword across her chest,
Her left lightly tracing the blade.
Unconsciously, a faint smile touched her lips.
But just as she turned toward the manor, the idyllic scene shattered.
The sky turned grim, the earth barren.
Space itself fractured, revealing a wasteland of bleached bones—a vision of apocalypse.
"Great Sorcerer..."
"Will I... never see everyone again..."
The helpless voice echoed through the decaying mansion.
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