Whilst progress was made in the small city of Hestanar, in another location far away from where Kent ruled. A figure observed his territory from his imposing fortified castle, high above on the decorated porch
The man scoffed at the lowlifes that lived within his domain. In his mind, they should be more useful in fulfilling their duties – working their hardest to serve under him.
The man snubbed those peasants. He looked down at the mundane citizens that lived within his tiny village. As he gazes below, he saw a farmer lying on the farm field, harassed by the repeating whips from his guards. The guards shouted at the fatigued farmer to continue work but he didn't react, even under the excruciating pain.
"pitiful existences..." the man uttered in a low voice; disgusted at their ineptitude as well as their filthy demeanour.
Feeling repulsed at this scene, the man returned within the inner walls. His shoes reverberated against the marble tiles, catching the attention of all those surrounding him. He made his way to the small pristine chapel within the castle, where he begins his daily prayer.
He knelt in front of the holy statue, hands clasped together, eyes closed as he dedicated his mind and soul to the spiritual saint that he pictured in his mind.
The figure began his prayer, transcending his message to the one above all. The deity that ruled over the world. The shepherd that created this fantastic faith.
Whilst the man was doing his daily prayer, a dark-robed figure entered the church. He saw the man passionately reciting an arc from the holy passage. The figure was in awe, but he didn't dare make another sound. He mustn't disturb his master when he's absorbed in his activities.
As the prayer continued, the man displayed his unwavering faith, as he recited the entire arch wholeheartedly without a single stumble. His voice echoed within the room, but the message surpassed the walls' confinement, allowing those outside the church to hear the recital.
When those that heed their ears to listen, slight empowerment came to these bodies, as they could feel a slight alleviation in their pain. A slight joy was felt, washing over their previous sorrowful mood.
But as the arch concludes, so does the wonderful feeling those outside felt when listening to the prayer. Then they each slowly but surely returned to their roles. Forgetting the jovial feeling they had before.
"Henceforth did you come?"
The man spoke after completing the recital. But he was still kneeling to the statue, not daring to spare his look elsewhere as he had his eyes glued to the statue.
"Milord, a report from Zoie,"
The figure spoke in a soft voice as he lowered his head, not daring to look his master in the face,
"Speak."
"Irregular actions in Hestanar, farmers are poisoning the land."
The lord's mind was intrigued when he heard his, he scoffed when he imagined the rebellious nature of the citizens of Hestanar. After all, how could commoners accept such an incompetent ruler commanding over them?
"Are you sure of what you see?"
"Certain of it, I witness them planting horse dongs and rotten filth in the dirt, milord."
The man rose from his kneeling position as he laughed hysterically at what he heard, bemused as he takes in what he heard as pure entertainment.
"May I bring forth the truth of the world." The lord remarked, eyes drowned in a sea of blood. "I shall light up what is dark. "
The man gave a cruel laugh as he spun around, exiting the small imperial church with a steady march. His servant closely followed behind.
"Tell me more, Zoie"
"Yes, master."
As the instrument of evil left, the statue that stood peerlessly behind the glistening-stained glass was lit with multiple bright hues. The statue, depicting a female god in all its glory was holding a red rose in her hand.
However, as the majestic wooden door closed behind the lord and Zoie, the mouth of the statue moved, turning into a vile smirk.
.
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Kent soothed his body ache as he helped himself with a nice warm bath. The lord sat in the tub as he stared at his reflection.
He had long dark hair and brown hazelnut eyes. His facial features had a deadly charm, a glamour that attracted a sense of playfulness yet masculinity. His skin was one of a darker tone, something that was a result of the scorching sun tanning one's skin colour. Looking at himself, Kent had no quarries about why he was portrayed as a playboy.
However, looking at the rest of the body. He had nothing but dissatisfaction. His body was frail, and his limbs were nothing more than skin and bones. Kent did not doubt that his bones were weak and his muscles severely undeveloped. He had no doubt this was due to a lack of swordsmanship training at a young age.
The young lord was certain he would require regular exercise and a proper diet to improve his conditions. Changing his diet to one full of protein would be a good start.
Kent thought about all this as he washed away the sweat and filth that accumulated on his body. These few days, he had been with plagued with a constant cold that irritated him to no ends. At first, he only ignored it, playing it no heed. But gradually, the cold only grew worse with no signs of improving.
It was only then Kent realised the poor health that his body was in, causing him a sense of urgency as he became aware of his need to properly train his body.
If fact, over the last few days, Kent incorporated basic training exercises into his morning routine. He would join in the knight's daily training every morning to train his body. By doing this, not only did Kent motivate all trainees to do their absolute best, but he could also check in on their progress regularly.
After a few more minutes in the bath washing away the mental fatigue and stress that had accumulated over the last few weeks of non-stop working, he finally stepped out of the tub.
Kent adorned a red tunic and plain leggings before leaving the bathroom.
Outside, a servant waited for him.
"Milord, Head Butler Sebastian is calling for your presence."
Kent nodded and said with a placid expression.
"Lead the way."
The servant bowed in reply.
"Please, follow me."