—The Capital of Atrana Kingdom, Near The Royal Palace, An Elite Training Facility—
Around fifty young knights mostly consisting of aristocratic and a few commoner backgrounds were each in front of a large boulder at an open square with their swords drawn out as they stood in an attack-ready stance inside a large building that had the insignia of two swords beside a crown on a red banner over its entrance.
The knights were quite young, all of them were only 10-15 years old but their strong build told a different tail. The training facility was also very extravagant as it had all sorts of accessories and weapons hung on the weapon stands which were all over the place.
This was the main headquarters of the infamous and prestigious 'King's Swords' which was a military organization directly under the King's control.
A middle-aged knight who wore golden armor with a silver cloak had a strong muscular body, shaved beard, short black hair was standing on a podium with his hands crossed as he observed each of the young knight's stances.
He showed no particular reaction when observing the stance of the novice knights who were still in the admission process to become the Knight of The King's Sword.
As his gaze drifted from one candidate to another, a lonely knight with neither too muscular nor too skinny a build stood out from the pack because of multiple reasons.
The first reason was his white hair which was somewhat of a rarity in the Atrana Kingdom. However, everyone knew that there was only one family that had a whole lineage full of white-haired people.
The second reason was the knight's skin color which was even rare in the Atrana Kingdom as he had tanned skin which was more common in the eastern continent.
The third reason was that the knight looked a bit isolated, let alone the commoners but even the ones from a noble background did not approach him although they did sneak glances at him.
And the final reason was that the knight's stance was rather different from the usual one. Where the others held their swords with both hands and with a tight grip accumulating power for the strike; this particular knight held his sword limply without putting any pressure on the grip as if he was drunk.
But the knights around him knew better than to judge a book by its cover. The silver-cloaked knight averted his gaze and shouted in a roaring voice, "Begin!"
Suddenly the sound of metal clinking, stone crumbling, hard and soft impact, and air slashing mixed in rang resoundingly in the vicinity along with minor tremors of shockwaves.
The knights had struck the boulders in front of them with all the strength they had as sand and dust soared in the air.
When the dust settled, the scene of some boulders with cracks, some boulders partly broken, some with soft while others with hard signs of impact, and some of them with a large chunk missing entirely were revealed.
Immediately murmurs began as the knights compared each other's strength with enthusiasm. Those whose performance wasn't on par with others even with years of arduous training had sunken expressions as they looked at the pathetic marks on their boulder.
A notable thing was that these weren't some ordinary boulders made of hard rock. They were one of the toughest and very expensive materials on Akarxia named Blackrock. The fact that those expensive boulders were used as strength force practice said a lot about the organization's standards.
"Hey, look! He's gonna do it again." One of the knights looked toward the white-haired teenager and said with admiration.
The white-haired knight was, of course—Shirin White, the Eldest son of the Duke of Whitesburg. Everyone knew this fact but according to the rules, it was prohibited to mention anyone's family name to prevent any bias or discrimination.
Shirin had grown a lot in the few years that he had been away from home. He looked mature considering his age even before he left but after leaving his demeanor became extremely intimidating and sharp. His body which was the first raw on the outside now looked perfectly toned.
His handsome princely looks remained and in fact, he had gotten even more charming as his facial muscles had developed a lot.
Shirin observed the boulder as if he was trying to find something. Suddenly his eyes shone.
Shirin's stance gave off an image of a bow and arrow. As if his body was the bow stretched back creating tension in his muscles and the sword was like an arrow which he was holding with his right hand horizontally just beside his face.
Make no mistake, the sword was very heavy but Shirin had natural strength that allowed him to hold the heavy sword with just one hand like that.
Shirin finally made his move as the blade shot out like an arrow. His initial hand movements were sluggish and it looked as if the blade was moving at a slow speed but midway through the speed abruptly accelerated as Shirin's hand blurred for a moment—soon after, the resounding sound of boom echoed as the boulder of solid hard Blackrock shattered into debris, dust, and uncountable tiny pieces.
The scene from the other's perspective looked as if a sharp needle or a pointy arrow had shot with slow momentum and suddenly accelerated to mock speed shortly piercing the boulder into pieces.
This approach was certainly unique as other knights had only struck the boulder with horizontal or vertical slashes but Shirin focused on a piercing strike on a singular dot for his assault.
The knights who were watching gasped and even the supervisor knight who wore silver cloaks' eyes widened as he muttered, "This Sword Art isn't from around here..."
It was one of the sword arts from the East and the only thing that Shirin ever got from his departed mother. He was self-taught for the most part as all he had to work on was the manual written by his mother way before she died.
This was not the first time when Shirin exhibited his prowess but it always seemed admirable to others each time he did it.
No one knew when it started but one by one the knights began clapping and cheering. Shirin gracefully sheathed his sword without saying a word and started walking away.
Suddenly a disdainful chuckle sounded from behind him as a fourteen-year-old knight in lavish knights attire, a shining sword inside a fancy sheath, red-haired and with an arrogant expression spoke up in a provocative tone,
"Once a bastard, always a bastard! Just because that outsider bitch gave him some superior sword art technique, he flaunts it like some kind of badge of honor! What a disgrace!"
Shirin who was leaving the training facility flinched momentarily as he heard the offensive remarks but then he simply shrugged it off and ignored the idiot entirely.
A deathly pin-drop silence ensued as no one even dared to breathe fearing that they would stand out in such a tense atmosphere. freeweb(n)ovel.com
Seeing that his provocation wasn't working, the red-haired knight furrowed his brows as he glanced at Shirin's back.
The cloaked knight narrowed his eyes as he thought of interfering but in the end, did nothing and simply observed the situation.
The red-haired knight chuckled with ridicule and spoke loudly once again bringing his hands near his mouth making a gesture as if he was announcing something, "Hahaha! Hear hear, the word outside is that someone's younger brother is retarded! Now, who might that be? Eh? Let's see... Ah! I remember now! I think he was called Ethan or something! Looks like one is retarded and the other one is gutless!"
It was as if time had stopped when those words were said. The air became thick with murderous intent and Shirin's figure suddenly blurred as he turned around, a dagger that was hung on a weapon rack beside him near the entrance of the square disappeared and flew at a sky-high speed cutting through the air straight into the direction of the red-haired knight. freew ebnove l.com
In just the blink of an eye, the dagger flew and with a sharp noise etched itself deep into the wall behind the red-haired knight as cracks began to emerge on it.
The red-haired knight's eyes widened as he stood there stunned—silence continued for a few seconds and ended with gasps as everyone saw a bit of red hair slowly falling on the ground from over the knight's head.
"Oh, looks like my hand slipped... I heard the annoying noise of a dog barking—dogs should have no place in here. They should go swing their tail in front of their masters and do some bootlicking to get a treat. Wouldn't you agree?" Shirin said as he coldly looked at the red-haired knight.
"You...! How dare-" The red-haired knight was fuming with anger. He was about to say something rude again but did not get any chance as several armored knights wearing white cloaks entered along with one in the lead who had a golden cloak.
The knights stopped in front of Shirin and the golden-cloaked knight stepped forward. He brought out a fancy-looking scroll from a box and everyone along with Shirin kneeled immediately.
"Shirin Albaer White, Accept this Royal Decree! By the Order of His Majesty The King, You Have Been Hereby Titled 'The Youngest Sword!'. May You Never Stray From The Path of Loyalty! May You Become His Sword! To Obey His Every Command! To Strike His Enemies, To Protect Him Through All Eternity Even If at The Cost Of Your Own Life!.... Hail The King!"
The Knight said with a strong, deep voice as he held the extravagant scroll of Royal Decree in both of his palms with the utmost respect.
Everyone's heads were bowed as the Royal Decree meant the presence of the King himself.
The red-haired knight gritted his teeth as his expression became very ugly. But fortunately, no one had the misfortune of seeing it as his head was bowed as well.
Shirin forgot all his previous anger and bloodlust as he calmly raised his chin and looked at the Royal Decree.
Without hesitation, he extended his hands and gracefully took the Decree with the utmost respect and said in a soft yet unshakable voice, "I accept this Honor, Hail His Majesty The King!"
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