"Nice. I haven't lost my touch much."
Aldrich had been worried.
After all, this wasn't the body he had trained with when it came to archery.
He had feared that the unfamiliarity of this new form might hinder his ability to draw the bow effectively.
Back in his original body, at twenty-six, he had been 5'9 with long, muscular arms and solid bones—well-equipped to handle the recoil of every draw.
He could shoot repeatedly without strain because he had moulded that body through years of discipline and practice.
But this new body? It hadn't gone through any such training.
The uncertainty from that gnawed at him.
Yet now, after loosing several arrows effortlessly, his concerns seemed misplaced.
The strength and stamina this body possessed were more than sufficient.
And the slightly shorter reach? That could be compensated for with his innate archery talent.
'My archery skills plus the basic body enhancement I will get from fusing Ki added to it is the Aldaman's exclusive Art that I hope to awaken to in the future.' he mused, inwardly.
'Joining all three together and using them effectively as a connecting point to one another... I can as well be set on the path of the strongest.'
A slight, almost hysterical laugh bubbled up inside his mind—a reflection of his dark sense of humour.
The culminating sound of claps ringing from the sidelines in consecutive motions yanked him from his thoughts.
He blinked, his focus snapping outward.
A group of knights had gathered nearby, their daily training momentarily forgotten as they fixed their gazes on him.
Some clapped, others stared in disbelief.
"Holy... what was that?" someone muttered.
"How did you do that?" another voice chimed in, the awe evident.
Aldrich stood there, bow in hand, dumbfounded by the sudden attention.
The knights had been drawn to him while he was too engrossed in his task to notice.
Concentration was an innate feature that usually appeared whenever he drew the bow, seemingly not caring about anything other than the bow and his target.
It became an established trait that thankfully has followed him into this body.
Now, all eyes were on the eight-year-old who had strung and shot the bow with expert precision.
He swallowed, glancing around as whispers rose among the knights.
The realization hit him, he had caused a distraction.
Duncan, the knight captain, had specifically warned him not to draw attention and ended up distracting the knights.
And yet, here he was.
His eyes quickly flicked to where Duncan stood.
The captain's stern face was unreadable as he strode forward, parting the crowd of knights with his imposing presence.
Aldrich tried to anticipate what was coming—a scolding, surely.
"Captain, I'm sorry. I didn't mean—"
"Become my squire."
Aldrich blinked, caught off guard as the captain placed both hands firmly on his shoulders, cutting off his apology.
"What?"
"Be my squire," Duncan repeated, his tone resolute.
"No, I heard you the first time... I just... didn't expect you to say that."
"Why not?" Duncan asked, his voice calm but unyielding. "Your skill with the bow is unlike anything I've seen in years. You're more than qualified."
Aldrich opened his mouth to protest, but Duncan continued, his voice carrying authority.
"You've got what it takes. Your focus, your precision—it's exceptional for someone your age."
The captain's gaze was intense, unwavering. "So, what do you say? Will you become my squire?"
"Yeah, kid!" one of the knights called out. "To shoot that many arrows with that kind of force, from that tiny body of yours... That's something special."
Aldrich's eyes flicked toward the knight who had spoken, feeling mildly insulted.
Sure, he was only eight, and at 5'6, he stood taller than most kids his age.
But compared to these towering knights—most of whom were well over six feet tall—he supposed he did look "tiny."
He shifted uncomfortably, unsure how to respond.
His mind raced. Squire? Him?
Duncan, clearly mistaking his silence for consent, pressed on. "Is that a yes?"
Aldrich hesitated.
He hadn't expected this at all.
Becoming a squire wasn't something he had considered.
He at least knew it was an apprenticeship of sorts, training to become a knight.
But a knight? Him?
In his past life, he had no interest in such things.
And in this life, his temporary goal was to survive and escape before the nation fell apart.
A permanent goal was something he had never really given a thought to.
Would he live as the moment dictates or will he with his knowledge try to get involved with the story's plot going forward?
His mind is yet to be made up on that level.
Then again... how would he live once he was free from the countess's mansion?
How would he support himself in this new world?
Being a squire would certainly give him a skill set—and even in a fantasy world, work experience mattered.
It wasn't a bad idea.
He could get some hands-on experience, learn the ropes, and figure out his next steps from there.
"Alright," Aldrich said finally, though his voice wavered. "But I have a condition... no, make that two."
Duncan's face broke into a broad smile. "Name them. I'll agree to whatever you want."
Aldrich raised an eyebrow.
Was he really that impressed? It was odd to see the captain so eager, especially when the level of archery Aldrich had displayed was barely a fraction of what he was capable of.
"Okay then," Aldrich said, folding his arms, feeling a bit more in control now. "If you can meet my two conditions, I'll become your squire."
"Done!" Duncan declared, as though sealing the deal. His eyes gleamed with anticipation.
Aldrich couldn't help but feel a little amused at the enthusiastic reaction from the captain.