Like clockwork, Serlon had woken up at the cusp of dawn. Everyone was rushed to the courtyards early despite protests.

Because we represented the Crown Prince, it would be proper to be extra early. At least, that’s what his squeal was about.

For once, I didn’t blame him. Actually, it made sense. But the heavy bags under the other’s eyes painted another story.

Everyone was exhausted. The trip here has been less than ideal.

Soldiers started to arrive before the sun started to rise. Despite the tired looks on the soldiers’ faces, they had already gotten to work. It was pure determination, each wearing a look suited for a warrior of their class. Maybe even more so.

And it made sense. They were on the brink of war. Once Florence fell, they’d have to be ready at all times if the demonic campaign persisted to their gates.

It wouldn’t be long. Especially, if Dagon was in cahoots with my brothers. They’d taste victory shortly.

Florence would fall. Then this place would become disaster ridden.

These soldiers felt the tension in tenfold. And Trane’s presence here only solidified their situation. It opened their eyes to reality.

I stood by Serlon, who watched the spars in center of the courtyard. The twins leaned against the wall, barely awake. Trent handed them wooden swords.

“Find some space and practice with each other.” He told them, ignoring their shocked expressions.

“The birds aren’t even up,” Lars refuted, yawning loudly, “Can’t we stay here for a few more minutes?”

Eran sighed, taking over for Trent, “Do you want Trane to be gossiped about by the other guards here?” He raised his eyebrow.

He was right. We’d most definitely we watched. Every move that we made.

“Fine, fine. Let’s go, Lars,” Daniel sighed, pulling his brother along with him to the other end of the grounds.

“Are we joining the main spars?” Eran and Trent walked to us. They peered over at the two soldiers sparring.

“There are morning negotiations that we’ll have to sit in with Prince Edwin. I’m not going to require that you join Spar. But be mindful of the time crunch,” Serlon informed, not taking his eyes of the match.

A victor of the match had finally been decided. A sword flew across the courtyard, as the other man pressed the blade against the loser’s neck.

“Not bad,” Serlon whispered under his breath, before turning to the area where they had posts set up, “It would do you all some good to watch closer. Leton’s guards are highly skilled, especially now.”

He paused, his gaze landing on me, “And you. Don’t get in trouble.”

I scoffed, “Me? I’m fine. Don’t worry about it.”

“I mean it,” He sighed, heading towards the post area. From his retreating figure, he grumbled under his breath, “Please don't kill anyone.”

I rolled my eyes, feeling a hand wrap around my shoulder. Eran smiled, pointing to the center of the courtyard.

“Let’s get a closer view then. Shall we?” Eran cheered, not giving us a chance to answer before pushing us forward.

Leton guards eyed us, as we joined the crowd. Trane would play an important ally in the coming battle. Whether it be in supplies or additional arms, they needed all the help possible.

Still, tension was etched on the faces of some who saw our presence as the impending war itself. Their scorn could not be masked.

Eran and Trent took notice to this, both sharing a telling look.

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Trent leaned down to whisper in my ear, “If you get called into a spar, make sure you don’t overshadow Leton’s forces.”

I raised my eyebrow. Wouldn’t that be bad? I’d assume that they’d want to know that their ally was strong.

That standard would be expected in Hellion’s. Strong warriors were respected to the highest degree.

As if reading my mind, Trent shook his head, “Leton’s a rougher kingdom. They’re on edge and our presence is believed to be a debated concept. Even if they don’t show it, I’m sure all of the soldiers here feel that way. An equal fight would be best.”

How could it be equal? I could squash these humans like ants.

“Who’s next? Who wants to spar?” A Leton guard called out, walking into the middle of the courtyard. He looked around, his eyes landing on our group.

“Oh. Did Trane want to spar?” He questioned. This caused others to stare in our direction.

“We can only do a quick spar,” Eran clarified, being mindful of Serlon’s words.

The guard nodded, looking around at the readied soldiers. He pointed to a younger one, bringing him into the center.

“How about we have our youngest fight then?” He suggested, throwing his arm over the timid boy.

Trent looked over to Eran, who shrugged, “Asta? Do you mind? I know you injured your hand and all. It’s still bandaged.”

I peered down at my bandaged hand, before sighing, “It’s fine. It shouldn’t get in the way.”

“Great! Get up here then, kid. We’ll have our youngest spar,” The Leton guard patted the timid boy’s back, “Pipsqueak.”

Eran tossed me over a wooden sword.

“Don’t forget what I told you about, Asta,” Trent reminded.

I’d never tell Trent, but I could only lower my pride so much. But the earful later would be too burdensome. To save the headache, I'd have to lower it further than preferred.

Upon approaching the timid boy, he visibly made himself smaller. The top of his head only reached to my chest, as I towered over him. I felt disheartened at the sight of his shaking hands.

Could I really span this out? Like really?

The older Leton guard clapped his hands, looking up, “You’re a tall fellow. How old are you, kid?”

“16,” I answered, holding the sword at my side, “I’m ready when you are.” My eyes met the timid boy’s.

“Hah! Well, the pipsqueak here is 16! You guys are the same age,” The Leton guard chuckled, raising his hand in the air, “On the count of three, okay?”

I nodded, peering over at the boy, who slowly did the same. There wasn’t much of a plan to prolong the battle. I’ll probably just let him attack first. Then, light counterattacks to par him off.

If I could do the same maneuvers to the noble at the combat exams, that would be decent. He could perform that much, right?

“One!” The crowd shouted.

I raised the sword to my chest.

“Two!”

The boy shook as he lowered his body.

“Three!”

I stood my ground, waiting for the timid boy to start his attacks. But he never moved from his spot, the sword shaking in his grasp. I glanced around, meeting the eyes of Trent and Eran. Can I just end this? My expression seemed to scream.

Immediately, they shook their heads and waved their hands frantically. Trent mouthed “Equal battles!” I rolled my eyes, diverting my attention back to the timid boy.

Fuck this.

I sighed. Well, if he wasn’t going to come to me, I’d just attack first. I bent down, launching forward. A small yelp escaped his mouth, as he barely connected our blades.

The impact left him off balance, he scrambled to catch his footing.

Admittedly, I wasn’t even pushing against him. He was just ridiculously weak. Even for a human soldier, I was shocked at how much muscle he lacked. At this rate, I may kill him by accident.

There was no point in continuing.

I exhaled, lowering my voice so that only he’d be able to hear, “Hey, let’s just stop this now. Say you hurt yourself or something. You’re in no shape to continue and I can’t promise that I won’t kill you on accident.”

He shook his head, his eyes finally meeting mine, “No. I can’t...” He cowered.

I sighed, “So be it.”

I brought my blade down. The action sent him forward. I dropped to my knees, ducking to the side as he tumbled past me.

He peered back in a panic, his eyes widening as he watched me swing my leg toward his ankles.

“Jump.” I mouthed, as my legs sailed under him. The tips of my boots knocked the bottom of his own, sending him forward. He yelped, losing his balance. The timid boy landed on his ass with a thud.

I stood to my feet, glancing down with a confused expression. Honestly, I hadn’t expected him to fall.

The warning should have given him enough time to react. But I guess not.

Even if I wanted to prolong it, he was too poor of a fighter. I gave a swift glance to where Trent and Eran stood. The two wore defeated expressions, meaning that they knew that it was pointless to continue.

The boy desperately reached for the sword that had fallen near him during his fall. I rolled my eyes, bringing my sword up, and stabbing it next to his face.

He froze, looking up in fear. I leaned down, “Are you admitting defeat now?” I asked, waiting for him to agree. He should understand by now.

In a real battle, he’d already be dead.

The boy shook his head, “I can’t!” he raised his voice, making one final attempt to reach for his sword.

An important lesson for a warrior was to accept defeat. Learn from it. Grow.

It wasn’t my place to lecture him, but he was going to learn today. Consider it my small favor.

I clicked my tongue, lifting the sword to knock on the other one. It flew across the dirt, hitting against one of the boots of the other soldier on the sides. He gasped, as I brought the sword to his neck. The wooden tip of the sword pressed against his windpipe.

“Learn to realize when you lost the battle. How can you be reckless when you don’t have to skills to back it up?” I scolded, tossing my sword to the side.

I reached down my hand, extending it to the boy, “Work on your basics. Your footing is horrendous.”

He hesitated as he grabbed it, “…I’ll try.”

”If you don’t, you’ll die.”

He gulped, nodding.

The crowd broke into cheers, “Trane’s youngest won!”

The older Leton Guard ran up to meet the boy, who at once leaned into a bow, “I’m sorry…”

The man paused, his eyes darting to me. I watched how his clenched hands relaxed at his sides before a forced smile plastered on his face.

Interesting.

“You’re still learning! No worries!” He chuckles, patting the boy’s back, “And you!”

He turned to face me, “You’re quite skilled for someone your age! You see, pipsqueak here had no chance. I didn’t realize you’d be so outmatched.”

It was outmatched. But his words rubbed me the wrong way. I knew menace when I heard it.

I was the son of the fucking demon king.

“…Thanks,” I replied curtly, walking past him, and towards the boy that was still bowed.

I reached my hand for a shake, “I’m Asta.”

The boy looked shocked, wiping his hands against his shirt.

“…Finn,” He met my handshake wearily. I couldn’t help but notice the glare directed at him from the Leton guard.

Serlon pushed to the front. His eyes bounced between the us, “Let’s go. We have to meet the prince.”

I nodded, heading over to him. Trent and Eran joined my side, patting my back, “You did well for an opponent that weak. It was tricky with our situation.”

“Right.”

Even for me, it was wrong to call him weak. It was apparent that he was never trained properly despite his placement in the army.

To no fault of his own. But there seemed to be some rats hidden in their ranks.

The reason why that boy never excelled. His demeanor, shaking, and undeniable hostility towards him…

Fools.

You'd never survive like this.