Clark, a middle-aged man wearing leather armor, silently watched as the Young Master made his assessment of the soldiers. As the Head of the Guards, his priority was the safety of the young noble. But honestly speaking, he did not like the Young Master at all. The second son of Lord Drakus was a total brat. There had been numerous times wherein Clark could not help but ask himself how a person could be so evil, so hedonistic, that there seemed no chance for redemption.
If he could, he would have left this small town long ago. But since it was an order from his beloved master, Lord Drakus, he steeled his resolve to stay until the end. Clark repeatedly convinced himself that he should endure this and carry out his duty faithfully.
What is the brat thinking, suddenly recruiting soldiers?
Clark sighed. Near him, he could also see the expressions of the other guards. They were also probably confused of the sudden change in the Young Master these past few days. For some unknown reason, he suddenly started giving out free food to the starving residents. When Clark first heard of it, he laughed at the absurdity of the news. But after seeing the servants actually distributing the wheat porridge, his jaw slacked in wonder.
“Let’s skip the formalities,” said the Young Master. “Let’s immediately start with training.”
Clark frowned. He knew that the Young Master was incredibly weak. Whenever the Young Master got into trouble, he would come running to the guards to ask for help. Although clearly annoyed and hesitant, the guards would always answer his call. Just like Clark, the other seven guards were loyal to Lord Drakus. Otherwise, they would have left this town long ago.
The servants appeared, carrying with them numerous spears. Clark was sure that there were no such weapons in the Mansion, even in the underground basement. He started wondering where they got hold of them.
“Clark—,” said the Young Master. “—And the rest of the guards. Come over here.”
Upon the order, Clark and the other guards went towards the young master. At the corner of their eyes, they could see the spears being handed out to each soldier.
“Young master, you called?” said Clark.
Lark nodded. “The eight of you will join the training. No exemptions.” The guards looked at each other.
“What do you mean, Young Master?” said Clark, clearly confused of what was happening.
Lark sighed. He pointed at the soldiers holding a spear. The shaft was made of wood while the blade was made of iron. “Get a spear, all of you. Then join those guys.”
“We’re joining the training too?” said one of the guards.
“That’s right,” said Lark. They could see the annoyed stare of the Young Master. “That’s an order. Go.”
After a few moments of hesitation, the guards grabbed a spear then joined the soldiers. As one of the guards belonging to the Marcus Family, each of them have fairly decent strength. They were confident that even if all of these “soldiers” were to fight them, they would easily emerge victorious in the end. They felt that it was a waste of time to be joining the training of these soldiers which, just a few moments ago, were ordinary residents of Blackstone Town.
‘I guess this is better than taking care of the mess the Young Master makes whenever he gets into a fight in the town. That’s right. This is probably better.’ Clark consoled himself with these thoughts.
“Uhm, Young Master?” said one of the soldiers. “Are you the one who’s going to train us?”
Clark almost chuckled. What a stupid question. Of course, the one training them would be somebody else. What would the frail Young Master know about battle, after all?
“Yes, that’s correct,” replied Lark.
The shock within the eyes of the guards, including Clark, was evident. Some of them tried to open their mouth and speak, but eventually chose to stay silent in the end. The guards all knew the temperament of the Young Master. One wrong move and they would be the target of ridicule and punishment.
“Of course, since I’ll be the one teaching you,” said Lark. “It’s only proper that I display my skills before everyone. It’ll be hard to follow the instructions of a sheltered noble, after all.”
Although everyone was silent, they all nodded within their minds. They did not feel like being taught by someone who was clearly weaker than them.
Lark gripped the shaft of his spear. “After a year, I hope that everyone will be able to do at least this much.”
Suddenly, a strong killing intent filled the entire hall. Although Clark had been working as a guard for the Marcus Family, he had never once felt such savage sensation in his life. It was as though someone was devouring him whole, like he was a prey meant merely for entertainment. Even the Royal Knights in the Capital did not give such vehement bloodlust.
Clark’s legs started trembling as the hair on his skin rose. Sweat started forming on his face. His throat started to become dry. He knew this sensation well:
It was fear.
If I, the Head of the Guards, is like this…. Then...
Just like he had expected, the others were no better than him. The other guards were pallid, as though all the blood in their body were drained. The soldiers, on the other hand, were trembling violently. There were even some of them that pissed their pants.
“Now, let’s start,” said Lark.
The strong killing intent vanished entirely. Lark gripped the spear then began stabbing through the air. The moment the blade made a piercing sound, he would immediately twist his wrist, change the grip by releasing one hand, then strike once again. The spear bent wide into different directions, piercing the air numerous times. It was like a moving snake, changing its direction at the last moment.
If that was a real opponent. A human with flesh and bones…
Clark could only imagine the outcome. He knew that even he would be unable to dodge those everchanging strikes.
“So, how’s it?” said Lark, grinning. He playfully spun the spear on his hand. “I tried slowing down the movements so that everyone would be able to easily see.”
Clark’s eyes widened after the casual remark.
He was actually holding back so we’d be able to follow it?!
Comments (8)
See all