When the young man declared it, Lord Emberon didn't waste his time and turned abruptly toward the knight positioned directly behind him.
His voice, though flat and composed, carried a chilling tone that seemed to freeze the air.
"Give me your armor," he commanded, his words cutting through the silence like ice shards.
The knight, taken aback by this unexpected request from his revered lord, felt fear surge through his veins.
His entire body seemed to freeze, and his legs trembled under the weight of his growing apprehension.
However, as he locked eyes with Lord Emberon, he noticed a glimmer of confidence and pressure that seemed to press his chest tighter.
"Yes, my lord," he respectfully and tremblingly said.
Slowly, the knight began to disassemble his armor, one piece at a time, upon the young Lord's order.
The process was painfully slow, as if time itself stretched to magnify the knight's trepidation.
With every clank and scrap of metal, the knight's trembling hands and beads of sweat on his brow betrayed his fear.
As Lord Emberon calmly observed the knight's dismantling of his protective shell, he noticed everyone was still in shock.
With each component of the knight's armor handed over, Lord Emberon took it with steady hands and donned the pieces one by one.
He transformed before the onlookers into a formidable looking figure encased in steel.
Once the last piece of armor was secured, Lord Emberon broke the silence with a resolute calmness.
"Follow me to the training ground," he announced, his words carrying a quiet authority that left no room for doubt.
With measured steps, he began to walk away, leaving the stunned spectators behind.
Their gaze followed him, a mix of astonishment, admiration, and apprehension in their eyes.
Devin, seething with anger throughout the entire episode, his face contorted with suppressed fury, glanced swiftly at the bewildered onlookers.
His eyes burned with intensity, revealing his smoldering rage, though he fought to maintain self-control.
Sensing that he cannot contain his anger anymore that was directed toward either Wallace, he took a decisive stride forward, preparing his mind for combat.
Not much time passed before they reached the training ground, a large area of open land surrounded by tall walls.
Lord Emberon had carefully chosen this training ground, and it was truly impressive. It was incredibly vast, stretching as far as they could see, providing plenty of space for combat and skill development.
The walls around the training ground were tall and strong, giving a sense of security and strength.
As they arrived, everyone followed, including Baron Willard, Sophia, and the knights who were eager to watch the upcoming duel.
However, Sophia couldn't shake off her uneasiness.
Deep down, she feared for her son's safety and sensed a change in Devin's behavior.
Earlier, he had promised not to harm Wallace and to keep them safe, but Devin's current expression contradicted his previous words.
A feeling of dread welled up within Sophia, urging her to voice her concerns. But as she opened her mouth to speak, Baron Willard quickly raised his hand, silently signaling her not to interfere.
Trusting her husband's judgment, Sophia reluctantly kept her words to herself, although her apprehension remained.
Baron Willard also sensed that something was wrong with Devin.
The person standing before him now seemed different from the noble and compassionate individual he had known.
Moreover, as his trainer, Baron Willard could sense a distinct change in Devin's aura—a chilling malice combined with hatred.
However, not just Devin but to his son Wallace too, if Devin had a chilling Malicious and hatred in bjs aura, his son, Wallace was showing a chilling detachment, coldness, and confidence.
It was as if his son had transformed, shedding his previous self that the Baron Willard didn't know.
Deeply troubled by these observations, Baron Willard chose to stay silent, deciding to uncover the mystery that now surrounded his son's soul.
"Ready?"
Lord Emberon's voice cut through the tense atmosphere, his sword ready at his side for the impending clash.
Devin, focused on his foe, met his gaze with intense determination, anger simmering beneath the surface.
He understood the seriousness of the moment and the significance of what was about to happen, so he took a deep breath to calm himself.
Although he used to bully Wallace in the past, his current changes should be taken seriously. If he is truly capable of killing or scheming against Sir Palest, it means he is a different person now.
He didn't know what had happened to him or what fortune he had encountered, but Devin decided he would give everything he had.
After all, with his comrades from the Red Horse organization by his side, he wouldn't have trouble dealing with Baron Willard if he took the life of Baron Willard's son.
Before long, Devin closed his eyes for a moment and then opened them, saying, "I am ready."
His voice filled with determination as he raised his sword to his shoulder, the blade pointed firmly at Lord Emberon.
Lord Emberon, his face showing a mix of amusement and determination, broke the silence once again.
"Should I count?" he asked, seeking confirmation before the clash of swords began.
Devin, defiantly responded, "Let him count to three," deliberately glancing at Baron Willard.
Lord Emberon stares intensely at Baron Willard. His eyes reflected a fiery intensity that matched the depth of his soul.
Meanwhile, Baron Willard faced a difficult decision. He felt torn between his love for his son, Wallace, and his loyalty to his apprentice, Devin.
His aged eyes darted back and forth, desperately searching for a glimmer of hope in their determined gazes.
Wallace, the past uncontrollable son of his was now exploding with a strong and determined aura, tightened his grip on his sword. The steel glinted in the flickering sunlight.
Devin, the past noble spirit he had now burned with hatred and malice, adjusted his grip on his own weapon. His knuckles turned white from the strain. Malicious intent and coldness coursed through his veins.
Silence filled the chamber as the participants prepared for the impending clash.
Baron Willard, burdened with powerlessness, felt a surge of anguish welling within him. Unable to bear witness to the brewing storm any longer, he nodded—a gesture of resignation that conveyed his internal struggle.
With deliberate motion, Baron Willard raised his weathered hands, his aged fingers pointing heavenward as if seeking divine intervention in the face of tragedy.
His voice boomed through the chamber, commanding attention and demanding reverence.
"Before the combat begins," Baron Willard's words echoed off the stone walls, carrying centuries of tradition, "please recite the Knights' rites!"
The room trembled with his command as Wallace and Devin positioned themselves.
Their bodies were taut with anticipation, their swords gleaming with deadly intent.
Side by side, they stood, their eyes locked, and together, both of them shouted.
"By the bravery that flows through our veins
And the integrity that resides in our hearts,
We serve as defenders of justice and truth,
Bound by our sacred code, unwavering and loyal…"
In unison, their voices rose, intertwining like a haunting melody, as they recited the ancient words that echoed through the training ground.
"With our steel swords, our determination is tested
In the heat of battle, we are proven,
To shield the vulnerable, to conquer our enemies,
To give our lives, if necessary…"
Their voices carried the weight of honor, loyalty, and the profound understanding that this battle would alter their lives forever.
"We pledge our allegiance to righteous purpose,
In the face of darkness, we will never hesitate,
Through challenges and shadows, we will triumph,
For the light of virtue will never falter.
As blades clash and the battlefield resounds,
We fight with courage, as our ancestors did,
In this sacred contest, life and death intertwine,
For only one shall emerge, divinely victorious."
With each word, their grip on their swords tightened, their muscles coiled like springs, and their hearts beat in synchrony with the rhythm of the ancient incantation.
"Let not hatred corrupt our hearts,
But let us honor our adversaries, for they too dare,
To test the character of a true knight,
In this dance of swords, our destinies unfold.
So, as we stand, sword in hand,
In this moment, destiny commands,
We confront each other, whether friend or foe,
With respect and bravery, let the battle shine..."
The power of their recital surged through their veins, infusing their bodies with raw energy.
"May the Gods above witness this solemn struggle,
As we bathe in each other's blood, with all our might,
In the spirit of knighthood, we honor this quest,
With the Knights' Rites, our sword will clash!"
As the final syllable hung in the air, reluctantly, Baron Willard's hand dropped like a descending sword—a resounding crack that shattered the stillness.
"Begin!"