Kuroi's eyes fluttered open, the sterile white ceiling of the hospital room coming into focus. His body ached with every breath, a deep, searing pain radiating from his back. He tried to shift but immediately winced, gritting his teeth as a sharp pain shot through him.
"Don't move too much," a calm voice said.
Kuroi turned his head slightly to see two doctors standing nearby. One was tall and thin, with sharp features and a no-nonsense demeanor. His white coat hung neatly on his lanky frame. Beside him stood a smaller, rounder man, his face softer but focused, his glasses perched precariously on his nose as he scribbled notes on a clipboard.
"How are you feeling?" the taller doctor asked, his voice level and professional.
"Like I got hit by a damn boulder," Kuroi muttered hoarsely, grimacing.
"Not far off," the shorter doctor said with a dry chuckle. "You've got several broken ribs along your back, bruised muscles, and a nasty gash we had to stitch up. Honestly, you're lucky to be alive."
The taller doctor leaned in, examining Kuroi's side. "We've stabilized you, but those ribs are going to take time to heal. Any sudden movement could make things worse. You'll need rest, and a lot of it."
"Rest?" Kuroi scoffed, his voice strained. "I don't have time for that."
The shorter doctor raised an eyebrow. "Oh, you'll make time, or you'll end up back here in worse shape. Your body needs to heal. No arguments."
The taller doctor nodded, stepping back. "We'll be monitoring you closely. For now, try not to talk too much. Let your body do its work."
As the doctors turned to leave, Kuroi let his head fall back onto the pillow. The scene shifts to a training yard bathed in the soft light of the setting sun. Calvin stood shirtless, sweat glistening on his lean, muscular frame as he relentlessly slashed at a wooden training dummy. Each strike was precise, yet fueled by an undercurrent of frustration. The rhythmic sound of his blade cutting through the air echoed in the otherwise quiet yard.
He paused, gripping the hilt of his sword tightly as his chest rose and fell. His mind raced, replaying the battle with Ashren and his men. Despite their victory, the weight of leadership and the need for perfection gnawed at him. He swung again, harder this time, splintering part of the dummy.
"Calvin!" a voice called out, breaking his focus.
He turned sharply to see a group approaching—his older brother, the Duke, and the King himself, flanked by a contingent of guards. The King, a regal figure with silver-streaked hair and piercing eyes, stepped forward, his presence commanding attention.
"Your Majesty," Calvin said, wiping sweat from his brow and bowing slightly, his expression quickly shifting to one of polite respect.
The King studied him for a moment, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Calvin, how was your battle with Ashren?"
Calvin straightened, a sly smile playing across his face. "Ashren is dead, my lord, along with his men."
"Wonderful news," the King said, his tone warm but measured. "You've served the realm well. But I must inform you, we have a new mission for you. Your group will convene tomorrow for a briefing. Prepare yourself."
"Yes, my lord," Calvin replied smoothly, his smile widening as he inclined his head. "I'll be ready."
As the group began to depart, Calvin remained in place, watching them leave. Calvin sat quietly on a wooden bench in the training yard, sharpening his blade under the warm afternoon sun. Seraphina approached, her steps hesitant. She carried an air of guilt that she couldn't quite shake.
"Calvin," she said softly, sitting beside him. He looked up, his brow furrowed as he noted her troubled expression.
"What's wrong, Seraphina?" he asked, placing the blade aside.
She hesitated, her gaze fixed on the ground. "I'm the reason Kieran's hurt. We left him alone to fight that beast. If I had stayed—"
Calvin raised a hand to stop her. "The orc, Kieran wanted us to leave. He said we'd only get in his way." His tone was calm but firm. "He made the choice to fight, and he won."
"But—" she started, then stopped, her guilt still pressing on her. After a moment, her voice softened. "Why, Calvin? Why did you ask Kieran to stay close to you before the battle and not me? We've known each other for so long. Do you trust him more than you trust me?"
Calvin's expression softened, his charismatic charm seeping into his words. He leaned back slightly, giving her his full attention. "It's not about trust, Seraphina," he began, his voice measured and persuasive. "Kieran's instincts in battle are exceptional. He has a way of reading the flow of a fight, of sensing danger before it strikes. That's why I needed him close. It wasn't about preference; it was about strategy."
Her eyes searched his face, still unsure. "And me? Where do I stand in all of this?"
"You?" Calvin's tone turned reassuring, his smile warm yet calculated. "You're more than just a fighter, Seraphina. Your magic, your intelligence, your ability to inspire others—that's what sets you apart. If you were at my side in the heat of battle, who would have been there to keep the rest of the group steady? Who would've supported them when things got chaotic?"
She blinked, her confidence wavering but gradually returning. "I… I didn't think of it that way."
"That's because you're too hard on yourself," Calvin said, leaning closer. "You played your part perfectly, Seraphina. Kieran did his, and we came out victorious. That's all that matters."
Her shoulders relaxed, the weight of her guilt lifting slightly. "You always know what to say," she murmured, a faint smile playing at her lips.
Calvin chuckled softly, the glint of manipulation hidden behind his charming facade. "I just tell the truth, Seraphina. Nothing more."
Calvin patted Seraphina lightly on the head, his usual confident smirk in place. "You're stronger than you think, Seraphina. Don't forget that."
She blinked at him, caught off guard by the unexpected gesture. Before she could respond, Calvin turned on his heel and strode away,
The corridors of the castle were quiet as Calvin made his way to the medical ward. He entered the room where Kieran lay, propped up on a bed, his face pale but resolute. Kieran's sharp eyes flicked toward the door as Calvin entered.
"Calvin?" Kieran's voice was low, tinged with curiosity and weariness. "What are you doing here?"
Without a word, Calvin pulled a small glass jar from his pouch and held it up. Inside was a strange blue toad, its glossy skin glistening under the light.
Kieran frowned, leaning back instinctively. "What is that?"
"This," Calvin said with a sly grin, "will heal you. All you need to do is touch it."
Kieran's expression twisted with disgust. "Touch it? That thing looks like it crawled out of a swamp."
Calvin stepped closer, his tone firm and commanding. "Trust me, Kieran. As your leader, I need you to trust me."
Kieran hesitated, his skepticism evident. But after a moment, he sighed heavily. "Fine. If this thing gives me a rash, I'm blaming you."
He reached out and touched the toad's slimy surface with a grimace. A sudden warmth spread through his body, and he gasped as a strange energy surged into him. The pain in his ribs vanished, replaced by a soothing sensation.
Kieran sat up abruptly, his eyes wide. "I… I'm healed! It worked!"
Calvin gave a small nod, slipping the jar back into his pouch. "Good. Now that you're back on your feet…" His gaze hardened, and a smirk played at his lips. "I want you to duel me."
Kieran blinked, taken aback by the challenge. "Duel you? You're joking, right?"
"Do I look like I'm joking?" Calvin said, his tone sharp. "I need to see for myself if you've learned anything from your last fight. Let's go."
Kieran hesitated for only a moment before a grin spread across his face. "You've got it, boss."
As Calvin and Kieran squared off in the yard, soldiers began to gather, murmuring amongst themselves. Seraphina watched from a distance, her gaze flicking between the two men.
"Calvin doesn't do anything without a reason," she muttered to herself, her thoughts racing. "What is he planning?"
Meanwhile, in the shadows of the castle, a pair of unseen eyes watched the scene unfold. A faint chuckle echoed in the darkness.
"So, Calvin wants to test his men," the voice murmured. "Interesting. Let's see how far he's willing to push them."