Running away from conflict was a repetitive cycle for you throughout your childhood. From being hunted down, and your village being exterminated in a mass killing, only you survive from the disaster.

You started to think how lucky you are.. However, it's not easy being alone as a teenager either. You had nowhere to go, nobody you reach out to.

Until.

There was this intimidating man, Scaramouche with a strong aura, who decided to save you from calamity and chaos, and take you in to take care of. One aspect of Scaramouche, he forced you to train tirelessly, constantly draining yourself just to become strong. He'd always say, 'Quit weeping about the past, the more you complain, the less time to train.' And well, you hated, hated, hated his words.

At this moment, a few weeks after Scaramouche took you in, he was simply watching you train, trying to strike down dummies in a certain timeframe. His blank gaze held some sort of criticism, however he was letting you focus.

Soon enough, you gave up, complaining; 'I need to rest. I feel like my wrist is going to break.' You muttered. He simply stood up and loomed over you, responding:

"Is your wrist broken? I don't think so. So go pick up your sword and continue practicing until you break your wrist— I want to hear your bones cracking."

He simply commands, his voice simply giving 'Don't mess with me.'