Story

Born into nobility, Jeronimo was once the pride of the old empire’s aristocracy. Raised as the son of a Duke, he grew up surrounded by luxury, etiquette, and the finest military tutors money could buy. Even after the fall of civilization, he refused to part with his polished mannerisms and pristine attire — often appearing overdressed and out of place amid the frostbitten wastelands. To many survivors, his sophistication makes him arrogant. But to the Dawn Alliance, Jeronimo is a strategic asset with unmatched skill and discipline.

Jeronimo’s swordsmanship is a marvel, perfected through years at the prestigious Imperial Military Academy. His techniques blend science and tradition into an intricate style that few can replicate and even fewer can counter. Unfortunately, the sheer complexity of his methods made him difficult to train others. While his dueling prowess made him legendary, his elite style also set him apart — more admired than followed.

After the empire’s collapse, Jeronimo’s expensive tastes and high-born pride clashed with the harsh reality of survival. Struggling to maintain his lavish habits, he fell into debt and reluctantly took work as a contract commander for the Phaethon Mercenaries. There, he served not only as a battlefield leader, but also trained new duelists, passing down his refined, deadly techniques to those willing to pay the price.

Though his time with Phaethon was prosperous, Jeronimo could not ignore their dishonorable tactics and disregard for civilian lives. His code of chivalry, deeply rooted in aristocratic ideals, led him to question their leadership — especially after a betrayal left him outnumbered in battle. When reinforcements never arrived, Jeronimo saw through their lies and called on the Dawn Alliance for aid. The Alliance accepted, and Jeronimo defected — trading coin for conscience.

Since joining the Dawn Alliance, Jeronimo has proven himself a commanding figure, albeit a difficult one. His strict standards and poetic self-image make him a polarizing presence among troops, but none deny his effectiveness. On the battlefield, his elegance is lethal. Off it, he fancies himself a poet — albeit a dramatic and often cringeworthy one. His affection for Cloris, a fierce huntress of the Alliance, has become the subject of countless poorly received verses. “Of all the ridiculous things you do,” she once told him, “your poetry is by far the worst.”

Still, beneath the silk and ego, Jeronimo remains a loyal ally — one willing to fight with honor in a dishonorable world. His journey from pampered noble to grizzled commander is proof that even the most refined blade must sometimes be tempered by hardship. For the Dawn Alliance, he is not just a swordmaster — he is a symbol that nobility can survive even in ruin.