Chapter 20: Evolution
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Richard POV
A week later
The clash of steel echoed through the training yard as I faced off against Gerion Lannister. Normally, I would've smiled, using my footwork to dance around him, but today, I moved slowly and efficiently, dodging his strikes with ease.
My feet shifted only when necessary, each motion deliberate and precise. I wasted no energy on unnecessary movements.
The reason for my restraint was clear: my speed and agility had surged tremendously. I had to control my newfound power; if I allowed myself to move too quickly, I would look like a flea or a cheetah, darting about in erratic motions, movements that would be beyond human comprehension.
I was unfocused on my sparring as I fell into my thoughts, contemplating the implications of my evolving abilities.
When the moment called for a strike or a block, I found myself flicking my wrist, guiding my sword with effortless precision, tapping it against Gerion's blade rather than engaging in full, forceful strikes.
Those gentle taps were deceptively powerful, each one pushing him back. My strength had surged to a level I had yet to fully comprehend, and I realized I needed to learn to control it.
The memory of four days ago loomed large in my mind: a routine spar turned dangerous when I delivered what I thought would be a normal, non-serious strike.
My sword had cleaved through the knight's weapon with a sickening ease, and I had barely managed to pull back in time to prevent a fatal blow. The blade had come within inches of cleaving him in half.
After observing the myriad changes that had unfolded over the past week, I reached a conclusion: I was evolving, or perhaps even mutating. The transformation was profound, and I could feel it coursing through my very being.
I still felt the heat radiating from my adamantium bones, a subtle but constant warmth that had become a part of me.
It wasn't as bad as it had been in the beginning—no longer the searing, unbearable pain that had consumed me. Now, it was just a lingering warmth, almost comforting in a way. I wondered if this was the source of my mutation, the very thing that made me what I am.
Physically, my abilities had surged beyond what I could have ever anticipated. My strength and speed had increased so rapidly that I struggled to adapt.
Each movement felt magnified, as if I were dancing on the edge of my own capabilities, teetering between exhilaration and the danger of losing control.
But this wasn't the only development stemming from my evolution. I had also been grappling with my heightened senses, which had become both a gift and a burden.
The world around me was alive in ways I had never experienced before, every sound amplified to a painful degree.
I could hear Gerion's heartbeat, each thud resonating in my ears like a drum, quickening from the exertion of the spar. But his heartbeat wasn't the only one I sensed; I could feel the pulse of every knight and squire training around me.
The rhythm of their hearts raced in tandem with the intensity of our sparring, creating a cacophony of adrenaline and anticipation.
My eyesight was more acute than ever, allowing me to see every pore on Gerion's face, every droplet of sweat clinging to his skin.
Not only that, but my sense of smell heightened as well. I could distinguish the scent of the men training, the tang of metal and oil from their weapons, even the crisp aroma of leaves rustling in the breeze.
And beyond that, I could feel Gerion's movements, my body instinctively anticipating his strikes before they even began. Every step forward or back felt natural, like a dance I had learned by heart.
I sidestepped his next attack, countering with a swift strike that met his sword perfectly. My reflexes felt sharper, faster. I moved with ease, stepping forward, backward, and to the side, lightly tapping his sword aside each time.
"Galahad, hold up," Gerion called out suddenly, his voice sharp and commanding.
I stopped mid-motion, instinctively halting at his command. A moment of silence passed, but then, without warning, Gerion charged at me, his sword raised in a sudden, uncharacteristic attack. This was new—he had never tried to catch me off guard like this before. Perhaps he thought because I had stopped, I would be vulnerable.
But he was mistaken.
In an instant, I tapped into my speed. With a single fluid motion, I stepped back to create space, watching his approach carefully. His attack was brash, his legs left wide open as he rushed forward. I knew he was relying on surprise to catch me off balance, but that would not be enough.
As he closed the distance, I calmly stuck out one leg, allowing his own momentum to do the work. He stumbled, unable to stop, and tripped over my outstretched leg, crashing to the ground in a heap.
Gerion groaned, lying on his back, his pride as bruised as his body.
"Gods, even when you're distracted, you're still quicker," Gerion muttered, looking up at me with a mix of frustration and reluctant admiration.
I extended a hand to help him up. "You're not wrong, my lord," I said with a smirk.
Gerion took my hand, and with a smooth pull, I lifted him to his feet. Despite him being 6'1" and weighing around 184 lbs, he felt light as a feather to me.
I had to be careful not to use too much force, knowing full well I could easily dislocate his shoulder if I wasn't mindful. Even with the controlled effort, I pulled him up quicker than he expected.
"Woah there, Galahad, you've gotten stronger." Gerion said with genuine surprise flashing across his face.
I shrugged slightly, trying to downplay the changes. But before I could respond, he sighed and shook his head.
"Man oh man, you're going to destroy those squires at the tourney," Gerion said with a hint of pity in his voice. He knew that while I was now perhaps the strongest knight in all of Lannisport and Casterly rock, I still hadn't officially received my knighthood.
And for all the strength I had gained, I was still forced to wait.
"It's a pity. If it were up to me, I'd knight you and be done with it," Gerion said nonchalantly, shrugging as if it were the simplest solution.
I smiled at his words. Gerion was an easygoing man, unlike his brothers. He made friends easily, and I had used this to my advantage, befriending him early on.
"Thanks for the kind words, my lord. Let alone the squires, I've won against almost every knight here. Those who challenged me were all humbled," I replied confidently.
In the early days, I had no friends among the knights or nobles, forced to act weak and unnoticed. But now I moved with confidence. Kevan, Joanna, Gerion, Tygett, Genna—all of them trusted me. Almost all the Lannisters, save for Tywin, who was a harder nut to crack.
"That's the spirit," Gerion said with a smile. "The tourney's in a moon and a half. Who knows? You might get knighted by then."
"Maybe," I mused, though I wasn't entirely convinced Tywin and Kevan would act that quickly.
I knew it wasn't just up to Kevan—Tywin held the real power. Tywin, believing I was their bastard brother, thought he had the advantage. He aimed to control me, using my desire for knighthood as a chain. Kevan trusted me, but he was bound to follow his brother's plan.
"Now then, let's go for a drink in Lannisport," Gerion suggested. I nodded, and we began walking toward the barracks to remove our armor.
As we changed into our normal attire, Gerion gave me a sideways glance. "By the way, after the drink, I'll be heading to the brothel. You finally coming along?" he asked with a mischievous grin.
I shook my head, already knowing where this conversation was going.
"Right, right," Gerion said, patting my shoulder with understanding. "Your mother was a worker in one of those establishments." His tone softened. "Your past doesn't define who you are, you know. Come enjoy life with me. I'll show you the best girls."
It was a friendly offer, one that had come up many times before. Gerion was trying to look out for me, especially with the whispers behind my back about why I avoided brothels. Some knights and nobles questioned my masculinity, their judgments hanging like a cloud over every refusal I made.
"No can do, my lord," I said with a sincere smile. "After the drink, I'll head back here to train."
Gerion sighed, but he couldn't help but smile at my response. "Alright, suit yourself."
With that, we finished changing, and with a group of knights and squires, we mounted our horses and rode out to Lannisport for a night of camaraderie and revelry.
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