Harris instructed Sullivan about the points. The chances of his selection would be higher if he hit the bull's eyes, but in the commander's eyes, Sullivan couldn't do that.
Sullivan took his position and held the gun, its tail rested just below his shoulder for the support. With one eye closed for better focus, he peered through the tiny aperture atop the gun, aligning his sight with the distant target. His index finger rested lightly on the trigger, ready to pull it.
In his mind, Sullivan began a silent countdown: one, two, three.
With the final count, he gently squeezed the trigger. The bullet was discharged from the gun in a split second, cutting through the air with a sharp whistle.
All eyes instinctively followed its trajectory towards the target, a considerable distance away from Sullivan. As per his calculations, the bullet found its mark, hitting the bull's eye dead center.
The Crown Prince and the Commander were taken aback, their eyes widening in disbelief. Dahlia, on the other hand, couldn't contain her joy and burst into cheers, celebrating Sullivan's success.
Harris initially dismissed it as a stroke of luck, considering Sullivan had to replicate his success with ten more targets.
However, as Sullivan proceeded to hit the bull's eye on each subsequent target without a single miss, Harris's skepticism gradually faded.
When Sullivan finally lowered his gun, having hit all the targets, he turned to find Harris standing there, his jaw hanging open in sheer astonishment.
"Commander Harris, the first task is complete," Sullivan announced, his voice echoing in the silent field.
"Indeed. Now, brace yourself for the second task," Harris responded, his gaze fixed on a small catapult that was supposed to launch balls made of chaff into the air. The challenge for Sullivan was to obliterate these balls before they could touch the ground.
Dahlia, watching the scene unfold, couldn't help but express her admiration for Sullivan's precision and strategic thinking. "The entire royal family should have witnessed Sullivan's prowess," she commented, her eyes briefly meeting Daedric's. "The King will rue his decision of not enlisting Sullivan in the military earlier," she declared.
Sullivan readied himself, adjusting his stance and angling the gun towards the sky as the first chaff ball was catapulted into the air. With a swift pull of the trigger, he managed to hit the ball with ease. One after another, the balls were launched, and one after another, they were swiftly and accurately intercepted by Sullivan's unerring shots.
Not a single one was missed.
Harris watched in stunned silence, his previous assumptions about Sullivan being shattered. He had initially dismissed Sullivan as a nonentity, but the display of skill and precision he had just witnessed forced him to reassess his judgment. It was clear that he had grossly underestimated Sullivan's abilities.
The third task was a test of horse riding skills, which included jumping over barriers. It was a task that required years of rigorous training, not something anyone could accomplish without preparation. A soldier led a horse to the field, and Sullivan confidently mounted it, ready for the last challenge.
Meanwhile, Ainsley arrived at the field, a wine cup in hand, looking for some entertainment. He spotted Dahlia in the seating area, alongside the Crown Prince, and made his way towards them.
"Dahlia, have you come to witness your dear husband's defeat?" Ainsley asked, a smirk playing on his lips. He then turned to Daedric, offering a bow as he greeted, "Greetings to the Crown Prince," before locking eyes with Dahlia.
Dahlia shot him a glare and retorted, "Ainsley, you'll be eating your words and apologizing to me once you witness Sullivan's victory!"
Ainsley burst into laughter at her statement, his gaze falling on the poster in her hand. "What's this? So, Sullivan is your hero now?" His laughter echoed across the field, fueling Dahlia's anger.
"Enough, Ainsley," Daedric finally intervened, his gaze fixed on the ground, effectively silencing the brewing argument.
Sullivan's gaze swept across the scene, catching Ainsley in the act of once again tormenting Dahlia. However, he knew this was not the moment to intervene. His eyes met Daedric's, whose face was a mask, revealing nothing of his thoughts.
With a gentle nudge of his boot, Sullivan urged his horse forward, his fingers gripping the reins with a firm yet careful hold. He positioned himself at the starting line.
As the gunshot echoed through the air, marking the start, Sullivan spurred his horse into a gallop. He moved with such speed and grace, that it was as if he was engaged in a silent conversation with the wind itself.
Ainsley watched in surprise, a chuckle escaping his lips as he raised his wine glass. "Sullivan can actually ride a horse!" he exclaimed, his voice laced with bewilderment. "He is going to break his few bones today," he muttered with a chuckle and again sipped the wine.
With a swift, deliberate motion, Dahlia jabbed her elbow into Ainsley, causing him to choke on his wine. He shot her a venomous glare, but she had already moved out of his reach.
Meanwhile, Daedric was riveted to the spectacle unfolding on the field. Sullivan's unexpected equestrian prowess was beginning to unsettle him.
As the first obstacle loomed ahead, Sullivan, with an air of calm precision, coaxed his horse into a leap. They soared through the air, clearing the barrier effortlessly before landing smoothly on the other side.
Ainsley, caught off guard by Sullivan's skill, spluttered on his wine, spewing it out in disbelief. Dahlia's smile widened at his reaction.
"Can that really be Sullivan?" Ainsley murmured, turning to the Crown Prince for confirmation, his eyes wide with astonishment.
"Yes, that's my husband, Prince Sullivan!" Dahlia said with a smile full of pride.
Sullivan crossed all the barriers as if he had trained in this for years, leaving everyone on the field in a state of stunned disbelief.
Dahlia was the first to recover, her feet carrying her swiftly towards the field to congratulate Sullivan on his flawless performance in all three rounds. As he dismounted from his horse, he saw Dahlia sprinting towards him, her face lit up with a captivating smile.
In the next instant, she launched herself at him, and his hands instinctively moved to catch her, pulling her into a warm embrace. He stumbled slightly under the unexpected weight, but quickly regained his footing.
Her smile widened at his words, her eyes shining with pride. "You did it, Sullivan! I'm so proud of you!" she exclaimed, her voice ringing out clear and joyful in the open field as she pulled away to look into his eyes.