Reincarnated As Young King of Meteor City(Meruem-HxH)

The night was cool, the sky scattered with countless stars. They sat around the campfire after a particularly grueling day of training. Their bodies were sore, and they were basking in the comforting warmth of the fire. Koshiro had stepped away for a moment, leaving them to their own devices.

A year had passed since that pivotal discussion around the campfire. Haruto, now an eight-year-old, carried himself with a grace and dignity that belied his age, reflecting a majesty reminiscent of Meruem, the King he was meant to replace. His features had become sharper, his gaze, unwavering.

Feitan and Phinks, now both 11, were a striking contrast to each other. Feitan was taciturn and enigmatic, his silence only broken by sharp, biting remarks, while Phinks was more genial and jovial, with an underlying strength that wasn’t to be underestimated. Canary, at seven, was as sprightly as ever, her bright eyes reflecting a spirit that refused to be dampened.

Their training had evolved dramatically over the year. Every morning began with a run through the dense forest surrounding their camp, their path riddled with obstacles set by Koshiro. Fallen trees to vault over, rivers to cross, steep hills to climb – it was a rigorous test of their endurance and agility.

Afternoons were dedicated to combat practice, an intense session of sparring that left them breathless and battered. Despite the difference in their ages, Haruto often pitted himself against Feitan or Phinks, refusing to back down, his eyes burning with an intensity that defied his youth.

By nightfall, they worked on their agility, navigating their way through the forest with nothing but the faint moonlight to guide them. The darkness had ceased to be a hindrance, their senses now attuned to the nocturnal life that thrived around them.

The forest echoed with the clanging of weapons and the scuffling of feet. Koshiro had tasked Haruto, Feitan, and Phinks with a three-way sparring match. Phinks and Feitan had, almost unspokenly, decided to join forces against Haruto.

Despite the uneven odds, Haruto stood poised and steady in the clearing. His purple eyes scanned the battleground with an analytical gaze, a predatory smile on his lips. He was outnumbered, but he was far from cornered.

"You sure you don't want to rethink this?" Haruto's tone was light, almost teasing. His eyes never left the pair in front of him.

Feitan scoffed, his eyes narrowing. "You're the one who needs to rethink, brat."

Phinks let out a low chuckle, adjusting his stance. "Now, now, Feitan. Let's not underestimate him."

There was no further warning before the two charged. Haruto sidestepped Phinks’ lunge with grace, turning his attention to Feitan. He spun and blocked Feitan's sweeping strike with his own weapon. Their weapons clashed, sparks flying as their fierce gazes met.

But Haruto was already steps ahead in this chaotic dance. He anticipated Feitan’s next attack, kicking up dirt into the older boy’s eyes, forcing him to momentarily lose sight. This distraction gave Haruto the opportunity to focus on Phinks.

Phinks, trying to capitalize on Feitan's attack, was taken by surprise as Haruto swiftly closed the distance between them. Phinks tried to land a punch, but Haruto was quicker. He parried the punch, grabbed Phinks' extended arm, and twisted him around, positioning Phinks between himself and the recovering Feitan.

As Feitan wiped the dirt from his eyes and lunged forward again, Haruto released Phinks, who was sent stumbling into Feitan's path. Their bodies collided, causing both of them to lose their balance and crash onto the ground.

The forest rang with Haruto's laughter, the eight-year-old standing tall. “You two are strong, but you’re not thinking,” he chided them, his gaze sharp and focused. “If you want to beat me, you’ll need to use more than brute force.”

Feitan growled, pushing Phinks off him and getting back up. He locked eyes with Haruto, his irritation evident. Phinks dusted himself off, chuckling as he straightened. Despite his light-hearted demeanor, his eyes held a new determination.

Haruto readied himself, his body taut as a coiled spring, a challenging smirk playing on his lips. "Round two?"

Haruto straightened himself up, a smirk playing on his lips. He bounced lightly on his feet, taking note of the battle-scarred ground beneath him and the two older boys in front of him. Even though he was younger and smaller, his agility and strength matched theirs. The look in his eyes spoke of his conviction - he wasn't the underdog.

"Round two, then?" He challenged, his voice ringing out clear and determined in the silent clearing.

"Let's make this interesting," Feitan said, a dangerous glint in his eyes. His irritation from the previous round was visible, yet his tone carried a subtle respect for the younger boy. He recognized Haruto's leadership, even if he didn't vocalize it.

Phinks only chuckled, shaking his head. "Alright, Haruto. Let's see if you can dodge this."

Without waiting for a response, Phinks lunged forward. Instead of a straightforward attack, he moved with an erratic rhythm, using a technique they'd come to know as Rhythm Echo. This was an advanced technique that created afterimages of the user, disorienting the opponent.

Feitan joined him, employing the Shadow Step technique. His movements became so quick and fluid that he seemed to disappear, only to appear somewhere else in the blink of an eye.

In the face of the combined onslaught, Haruto didn't flinch. He kept his gaze steady, reading their patterns and predicting their movements. It was a chess game, and he was the player while the others were pieces.

Suddenly, he broke into a dash, his movements equally fluid. He weaved through the afterimages Phinks created, his eyes always on the real one. Every time Feitan reappeared in his vision, he’d use that opportunity to change his direction, causing the older boy to hit empty air or collide with one of Phinks’ afterimages.

On the sidelines, Canary watched in wide-eyed admiration. She saw Haruto dodge, parry, and twist, always a step ahead of his attackers. She found herself cheering, shouting words of encouragement, her voice echoing in the otherwise silent forest.