Munching on the dry fruits, they reached the classroom just as everyone else began pouring out.
"What's going on?" Einar asked a pugilist boy nearby.
"Bloodedge likes to hold his classes outside, in the training grounds," the boy answered, a bit shyly. Damian could understand the guy's feelings though.
They followed the others to the outdoor training grounds—a simple space with practice dummies and a vast, barren expanse of dirt. A perfect rectangle without any grass. At the center of it all stood the knight himself, Bloodedge.
The middle-aged, wavy-haired knight looked younger than Worldscribe and Runefather, though not by much. His perfectly styled blond hair and actor-like, rugged appearance were still intact.
"Look closely. That's your future, Sam, if you make it to forty," Damian said quietly, falling into line with the others.
"Huh? Why wouldn't I? Don't say crap like that. And you, fat elephant, stop giggling."
