Chapter 70: Twenty-Eight Hours
"So this is the main training ground!" Alina said, sweeping her arm out as she led Turman and Wan past the archway.
The courtyard was massive. Most of the ground was covered in deep, packed sand to cushion heavy falls, though wide stone slabs lined the outer edges for weapons drills and balance work. Dozens of recruits and veteran knights were out in the open, the metallic clatter of practice swords and heavy breathing filling the morning air.
"This is really well made," Turman murmured, his eyes sweeping across the grounds. "You can tell a lot of thought went into setting it up."
He traced the wall with his gaze, noticing strange, carved lines and runic symbols etched deep into the masonry.
If Nuri were here, he’d probably ramble on about what every single one of those glyphs does.
"Right?" Alina grinned, resting her hands on her hips. "When Nuri and I first dragged ourselves here, half of this layout didn't even exist."
She looked out over the sand pits, her grin fading a bit. "We watched them build most of it. Captain Caelan went out of his way to design the whole place himself. He wanted every recruit, no matter where they came from, to feel like they belonged."
Alina's voice trailed off, her eyes fixed on the far wall as if looking at something miles away.
Wan noticed the shift. He took two heavy steps forward, his boots sinking into the sand, and dropped a thick hand onto her shoulder.
Alina flinched, startled, but as soon as she saw Wan's hollow eyes looking down at her, a warm smile broke across her face.
"Thanks, Wan," she said softly.
Wan pulled his hand back, gave a quiet huff, and shuffled toward a wooden rack lined with blunts and iron practice swords.
"What’s he up to?" Alina asked, tilting her head.
"Don't worry about him," Turman said, a faint smile touching his lips as he watched his brother run a finger along a heavy wooden broadsword. "He loves weapons. Back in the estate, he could never touch one because his joints were always locked up in pain. But after whatever spell the captain cast... he can actually hold them."
Turman stood there watching Wan with the fond, fussing expression of an older brother watching a kid in a toy shop.
This text was taken from NovelPhoenix. Help the author by reading the original version there.
Alina made a face at him, letting out a snort. "You look like a mom."
Before Turman could object, a loud crash echoed from the main entrance.
"Guys! Hey!"
A junior knight came sprinting into the courtyard, his iron greaves banging against his shins as he practically tripped over his own boots. He staggered into the sand, gasping violently for air.
Alina moved instantly, catching the knight by his elbow before he hit the deck. "Hey! What happened?"
The man was drenched in cold sweat, his skin sickly pale, his lips trembling so hard he could barely form words.
"It's... it's a mess out there!" he choked out, clutching his side. "There's a massive crowd at the gate! They brought hatchets and iron bars... they're trying to breach the front courtyard!"
The training ground went dead quiet. The clashing of practice swords vanished as every knight on the sand turned around, faces instantly knotting with worry.
"Are you serious?!" someone yelled from the back.
"Why the hell would I joke about that?!" the knight barked back, his voice cracking with panic. "They're smashing the outer fences! Some merchants got caught in the middle of it and were dragged down!"
Alina looked back at Turman. Her lighthearted mood vanished in a fraction of a second.
Neither of them knew what to say. Panic wasn't something you prepared for on a quiet morning.
"Come on. We need to see this ourselves," Alina said, grabbing her spear from the rack.
Turman gave a sharp nod, stepping right beside Wan.
As they sprinted toward the front gates, Nuri met them halfway down the stone corridor, breathless from searching for them.
"Don't go through the main doors! Follow me, there's an upper balcony!" Nuri yelled, waving his arm.
They took the stone stairs three at a time, bursting onto the high stone rampart overlooking the Order’s front plaza.
The moment they looked down, their stomachs dropped.
The sky above was pitch-black, a freezing rain lashing against the flagstones, but the rain hadn't stopped the crowd. Hundreds of citizens packed the wide avenue, waving makeshift torches, iron tools, and wooden signs painted with jagged red letters.
The wind carried their screams straight up to the ramparts.
"Useless murderers!"
"You can't even protect the border villages!"
"The devil is hiding right inside your walls!"
The words hit Nuri like a cold slap.
In less than twenty-four hours... public opinion hadn't just turned, it had completely rotted.
The devil? Us? How did this even happen?
Down in the plaza, Captain Caelan stood right in front of the locked iron gates alongside a dozen high-ranking knights, his hands raised in a calm gesture as he tried to speak over the roaring mob. But even from fifty feet up, the raw, ugly hatred radiating from the crowd was suffocating.
"...I've never seen people act like this," Turman whispered, gripping the cold stone ledge until his knuckles turned white.
His eyes were wide, terrified. He had spent his entire life behind locked doors in a quiet manor; seeing a bloodthirsty mob screaming for execution was entirely beyond his world.
Nuri stared down at the sea of angry faces, his mind spinning uselessly.
Alina kept her jaw clenched, her grip tight on her spear shaft.
Even Wan stood completely still beside the stone pillar, his dark eyes tracking the flickering torches below.
Just what had happened...
in the span of twenty-eight hours?