Chapter 99: The young knight I
Meanwhile, back on the training grounds, a certain black-haired fellow was swinging his sword with clean precision, his light eyes wild yet focused on his target.
The young boy weaved and swerved through his opponent's attacks, while counter attacking with his own hits. Swords clashed against swords, and the boy's opponent was slowly being pushed back.
The onlookers who watched the duel happening before them were amazed by the sight. The young boy, who was only twelve years old, could push back a man twice his age. Such a feat had never been done, and the boys watching realized that they had underestimated him.
The duel ended with the boy's victory and his opponent bowed his head in shame but also respect.
"Good work Atilla. You have passed the exam and will soon graduate from being a knight-in-training."
Atilla bowed his head, thanking the instructor before taking a seat in the stands.
The group of bows cleared a spot for him, their eyes wary and afraid. But Atilla paid them no mind. In fact, he was glad they were ignoring him instead of teasing him like they used to do.
Ever since Atilla had heard about the accident Hael had suffered, his mood changed. He no longer cared for anyone, and his focus was simply on fighting. He had been training hard for the past four months, anxiously waiting for Hael's return so that he could show him how far he'd come, but it was all for naught as the person he admired the most was inching closer and closer to death's door.
With no solution in sight, and no one to turn to, all he could do was take out his frustrations and helplessness in fighting. At just the young age of twelve, he was going to become the youngest knight in the royal order.
At that same moment, Ceremus was walking by, choosing to wander into the palace to clear his mind before his visit to see Hael. He caught the spar between Atilla and the older knight and found himself intrigued by the young boy.
So he approached the group, and the minute the instructor sensed his presence, he paled, his forehead sweating profusely, hands clenched at his side as he felt his pulse rising. The others around him felt the same, and they bowed their heads out of respect for the king. All but one—Atilla, who glanced at the king with keen interest.