And thus, the story of Kale and Pete had spread among those in the tower castle. Humour and laughter resonated through the castle. Kale, the one young man, ridiculed and harassed, became famous for defeating Pete, the rape artist.
He gained the respect of the servants and the Lord of the city; kale's had his income boosted, and his application to become an elite knight was approved.
Many within the Tower castle grow envious of his promotion. Many had tried numerous times to do the same tactic. They maliciously embarked to the underground prison and tried to challenge Pete to a fight that would impress the young Lord for promotion. Yet the underground prison, once easily accessible, had become the most guarded after Pete the rape artist was almost beaten death.
The Lord of the city had announced that no one is allowed to enter the underground prison without his permission; the punishment for disobeying his orders could be steep and canning. It was warning that even though the Lord is somewhat benevolent at times of jest and ease, there are times where he would not tolerate a servant to reach his bottom lines.
After the announcement, the servants and guards dare not wish death among themselves, yet the possibility now has changed to that to put their best grind to garner the Lord's attention is at its all times high.
The Lord of the city honestly does not know what it means to be an elite knight; Alden just thought it was equivalent to a scholarship to a university at a city on earth. Therefore he had just said it at the underground fight to see who would come up on top.
Yet, in doing times, Alden will struggle to keep his promise. As the tales of the city lord had announced to make the young postal guard of becoming an elite knight had spread among the noble circle in Summer city.
From a kitchen maid to the Guards, The marketplace of the poorest had all heard the tales.
Many were surprised and cheerful by these great rumors. Thus they rushed to the gate that separated the nobles from the plebians, Shouts, and screams of joys; the city guards had difficulty keeping the poor at bay. It took days for the city guards to scare the poor away.
Letters upon letters of complaints have been delivered to the city lords' castles.
*CLINK*
*SHING*
A sword clash inside the training ground, two groups fight each other over a mere win and lose, but the battle is in nobody's favor yet. The wounded of one side fainted from blood loss around the training ground, and the faces of the fighters are hopeful with boots stepping firmly and weapons clenched in their hands, they take on their enemies.
The training at most times was not always used to be like this, Not as intensive and terrifying.
"Give up, you worms."
"our side has only lost two."
One soldier dawns a heavy leather armor, sheaths his sword, and points it towards the group on the other side. As he spoke, his eyes quickly shifted at a vital guest sitting leisurely on the side while watching the fight between the guards of the manor lords at each other's necks.
"Some of your men had already fainted from blood loss."
"Do you wish to lose more?" Sam spoke chivalrously
This guard is sam; He is the supervisor and the leader of the personal guard that Lucas relies on his orders too. He and his men are fighting another group from the same division.
"shut your mug."
"you speak more than my women."
"come at me, sam."
"HAAA" The division soldier sprinted at sam. His sword has a spike, slightly curved cross-guard, offering plenty of protection to the owner's hands; Champions and proven fighters use this weapon. It is a common weapon and an imitation of an elite sword that those who dream of becoming an elite Knight throw their hard earn sliver to blacksmiths to design.
*CLINK*
*SHING*
Sword clashes sound reverted around the training good; the audience, accompanied by the City guards, Manor Guards, and the new Elite knights that were hired recently.
Countless shouts and screams overwhelm the sword clashes; like a gladiator arena, the training ground is bustling with audiences.
Up above the training ground in the private pavilion that the city's noble Lord newly constructed, praised as genius design, Housed three people, an open balcony sitting in the middle of the pavilion is a young child who is no older the ten. Brown, straight hair slightly reveals a chiseled, charming face. Something is enthralling about him today; perhaps it's his sense of fellowship, or maybe it's simply his painful past. Nevertheless, people tend to boast about knowing him.
The person who sat on a personal chair made only for him is designed by the foreign land that all those who wish to feel more popular than the other would not hold back their expanse to purchase it.
For whatever odd reason, this child's chiseled, charming face is the Lord of the city- Alden van Farrow.
[His late] Alden thought.
*knock* *knock* *knock*
"My Lord, it's Lucas."
The door to enter the pavilion was slowly opened, Revealing behind it a Stewart named Lucas.
His blond and aquarium sea-colored eyes are filled with worry and stress, yet if one were to look carefully, they would only guess that it was reasonable.
A Stewart's daily life of the most influential young Lord of Summer city is no easy duty.
Stewart Lucas walked straight to the young man who sat on the expensive chair and spoke in his ear, entirely disregarding the two elite Knights from the city.
*Murmur* *murmur*
'so they are here.'
"Alright, let us go" The voice of young men is the only sound that could be heard inside the pavilion.
Sitting up from his chair, disregarding the group fight, Alden spoke,
'Night Gaz and Knight Haris continue observing for more talents to recruit
"Yes, my lord." they both responded.
Existing the pavilion, Alden, guided by Stewart Lucas, moved towards an area that was only designed to receive guests from outside his residence.
While they slowly made their way towards the guest room, no, it's more than a guest now, an entire house garnished with fine material courtesy of the merchant name Sambor. After their first greeting, Sambor sent more than just golds to amend his mistakes.
'how many of them are there, Lucas'
"ah five at most, My lord."
"One is Sambor of the house merchant."
"And four form the capital."
'hmmm his a quick man.'
"haha, yes, my lord."
"merely two calendar months have passed, yet the house merchants have made a great contributes."
"worthy of crumbs picker if I do say so myself, my lord."
'hahaha,' Alden giggled.
A few months have passed, precisely seven months since Alden was attacked by the demon named Leon, Although at first, Alden thought that he would have received some retribution for his acts. But it seems none of that ever happened. he waited an entire month on edge, no sleep nor relaxation, knowing that whoever this Madame Lauralart is, they would not let this go. Therefore it caused Alden to be on alert at all times, yet after waiting for so long, this Madame Lauralart never came.
'And The royal guard?' Alden suddenly become serious
"Well, we still do not know whether they are arriving or not"
"they sent a letter that they would stop by, but today marks the 26th-day counting, yet no news of their appearance."
"The royal guards are only personal guards of her highness."
"Yet to have her highness, Princess Maible detailing her donation of that incident, had sure surprised us all, my lord."
Lucas responded while he walked in front of Alden to guide him to the guest house, Alden did not need his help with that matter, yet apparently, a job of a Stewart is no jesting matter. Even neglecting an olden-day tradition seems to be a taboo if taken lightly. So, in short, Lucas will probably complain for days if Alden tells him to stop doing it.
'hmm indeed'
[yet no gold or sliver of a dollar arrived after her rescue]
[wait till I get my hands on you b*t*h] Alden thought