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42.1% Unknown Royalty / Chapter 8: Assignment

Chapter 8: Assignment

"You finally wake up," a familiar voice said as I opened my eyes to find myself surrounded by a wooden wall. "You were asleep for two whole days because you lost too much blood during the tournament," Mr. Hans explained as he handed me a glass of water.

"Sir," I said, struggling to get out of bed. "What happened when I passed out?"

"Obviously, Milla Bryson won. After you passed out, Milla was the only one who remained conscious." I exhaled, dismayed.

"I know how upsetting it is, becoming the champion is within your grasp but has suddenly become out of reach, this means that you have something more important to do than be the champion. Learn from what happened and try to figure out why it happened."

"I'll go tell your trainer you've regained consciousness," he adds as he walks out of the room.

I drank the water Mr. Hans had given me while staring out the window beside my bed. The event has been over for two days, and I'm curious what kind of awarding ceremony took place. I sighed and drank the last of the water in my glass. 

"You're sighing as if you're carrying the weight of the universe," I look at the person who had entered my room. "You look great. Seems like you've already recovered," Liam said as he sat on the chair next to my bed. His head was wrapped in bandages, and his arms were similarly wrapped as well.

"I heard Milla decided to join the Royal Guard and she'll start training tomorrow," he continued, informing me of Milla's decision.

"It's obvious that she'll choose it over the Academy. We all know how much she enjoys pounding, kicking, and beating people up."

Liam made a funny face. "That sounds jealous, bro."

"I'm fine with Milla winning. In the first place, I passed out and was unable to fight."

"I had no idea what was going on when Hugo hit me with a brass knuckle. I, too, woke up disappointed with myself. I could have done better, but my body can only handle so much. The same goes for you, too much blood loss is no joke, you could have died, you know." He scolded me somewhat. 

"I didn't notice it though. I'm too focused on winning to worry about how I'm feeling anymore," I said, trying to recall what I did during the last minute of my consciousness on the competition.

"Don't worry about it, bro. Let's just try again next year," Liam said.

"I doubt it, Mr. Tyren." We both glance at the door, where Imelda is standing. She walks up to the bedside table and places the container she is carrying on it.

My brow creased with concern.

"What exactly do you mean, Ms. Imelda? Nicholas will not participate in the event the following year, why is that?" When Liam asked what was on my mind, I simply waited for Imelda's response.

"Someone offered him the chance to mentor his son," she remarked as she transferred the meal to a plate. My mouth was watering. I didn't realize I was hungry until I saw the food.

"And who is he?" Liam inquired, intrigued.

"Well, none other than the one and only Crown Prince of Sataraia," she says as she hands me the dish, and I take a bite right away. 

"I suppose sleeping for two days will make you starving to the point that you wouldn't notice what's going on around you."

I look at Liam, who looks at me as if I've done something awful.

"Man! You'll be the Crown Prince's instructor! Don't you even find that news shocking?" He cried out.

Imelda tapped Liam on the shoulder, "Mr. Tyren, let's just let him rest and regain his strength."

 

 

I was packing my stuff when Imelda knocked on my quarters' door.

"You've lived here since you arrived at the camp. The four corners of this room have witnessed how hard you have worked to obtain what you have now." She sat on my bed and watched me place my things on the box that would contain the belongings that I would take to the capital.

The competition has been over for a week. And I somehow recovered the next day. The director gave me a certificate proving that I was a trainee at the Sataraia training camp. The news that the King had chosen me to be the Prince's training mentor traveled throughout the entire Western region of the kingdom, where the camp is located. I'm sure it reached my mother's ears by now.

"It's been almost two years. I was once a feeble guy who was unfamiliar with weaponry. But now I can wield each weapon to its maximum potential." I chuckled as I recalled the events of the previous months.

The room was deafeningly quiet until Imelda spoke up.

"I know you have goals other than acquiring strength. I assume you wish to use this on someone with power." I gave her a quick glance. "However, whoever it is, I hope you keep your cool. Always think about everything before acting, especially your mother. You're doing this for her, right? "

For a while, I kept quiet. Of course, Imelda would be skeptical of my motives. A weak boy enters the camp, with little knowledge of fighting, machines, weapons, and other camp-related matters.

I sighed and closed the final box containing my things. "I'm only going to claim what's mine," I explained before taking my baggage. "I am extremely grateful for your patience with me. I will be eternally grateful, Ms. Imelda. You taught me many things, and I thank you for continually reminding me of my purpose. That is my main goal, to reclaim what is rightfully mine and my mother's. I'm going to head out now. I hope everything will be in its proper place the next time we meet," I said as I left the training camp that had provided me with many opportunities to prepare myself.

When I was ready to board the carriage provided for me, I heard a man yell my name. Liam was rushing when I noticed him.

"Really? You're going to leave without even saying goodbye to your sparring partner?" He was panting.

"Man, this isn't our farewell," I said. "We'll still meet in the Palace," I answered with a grin. He quickly straightens his back, trying to appear confident. We both chuckle. 

"Best of luck, man." He looked at me like an older brother happy for his younger brother and said, "You deserve it because you're not only physically strong but your care for those around you is certainly one of the strong attributes a true champion must have." I thanked him and bid him goodbye. I finally sat inside the carriage and began my journey home.

"You finally wake up," a familiar voice said as I opened my eyes to find myself surrounded by a wooden wall. "You were asleep for two whole days because you lost too much blood during the tournament," Mr. Hans explained as he handed me a glass of water.

"Sir," I said, struggling to get out of bed. "What happened when I passed out?"

"Obviously, Milla Bryson won. After you passed out, Milla was the only one who remained conscious." I exhaled, dismayed.

"I know how upsetting it is, becoming the champion is within your grasp but has suddenly become out of reach, this means that you have something more important to do than be the champion. Learn from what happened and try to figure out why it happened."

"I'll go tell your trainer you've regained consciousness," he adds as he walks out of the room.

I drank the water Mr. Hans had given me while staring out the window beside my bed. The event has been over for two days, and I'm curious what kind of awarding ceremony took place. I sighed and drank the last of the water in my glass. 

"You're sighing as if you're carrying the weight of the universe," I look at the person who had entered my room. "You look great. Seems like you've already recovered," Liam said as he sat on the chair next to my bed. His head was wrapped in bandages, and his arms were similarly wrapped as well.

"I heard Milla decided to join the Royal Knights and she'll start training tomorrow," he continued, informing me of Milla's decision.

"It's obvious that she'll choose it over the Academy. We all know how much she enjoys pounding, kicking, and beating people up."

Liam made a funny face. "That sounds jealous, bro."

"I'm fine with Milla winning. In the first place, I passed out and was unable to fight."

"I had no idea what was going on when Hugo hit me with a brass knuckle. I, too, woke up disappointed with myself. I could have done better, but my body can only handle so much. The same goes for you, too much blood loss is no joke, you could have died, you know." He scolded me somewhat. 

"I didn't notice it though. I'm too focused on winning to worry about how I'm feeling anymore," I said, trying to recall what I did during the last minute of my consciousness on the competition.

"Don't worry about it, bro. Let's just try again next year," Liam said.

"I doubt it, Mr. Tyren." We both glance at the door, where Imelda is standing. She walks up to the bedside table and places the container she is carrying on it.

My brow creased with concern.

"What exactly do you mean, Ms. Imelda? Nicholas will not participate in the event the following year? Why is that?" When Liam asked what was on my mind, I simply waited for Imelda's response.

"Someone offered him the chance to mentor his son," she remarked as she transferred the meal to a plate. My mouth watered. I didn't realize I was hungry until I saw the food.

"And who is he?" Liam inquired, intrigued.

"Well, none other than the one and only Crown Prince of Sataraia," she says as she hands me the dish, and I take a bite right away. 

"I suppose sleeping for two days will make you starving to the point that you wouldn't notice what's going on around you."

I look at Liam, who looks at me as if I've done something awful.

"Man! You'll be the Crown Prince's instructor! Don't you even find that news shocking?" He cried out.

Imelda tapped Liam on the shoulder, "Mr. Tyren, let's just let him rest and regain his strength."

 

 

I was packing my stuff when Imelda knocked on my quarters' door.

"You've lived here since you arrived at the camp. The four corners of this room have witnessed how hard you have worked to obtain what you have now." She sat on my bed and watched me place my things on the box that would contain the belongings that I would take to the capital.

The competition has been over for a week. And I somehow recovered the next day. The director gave me a certificate proving that I was a trainee at the Sataraia training camp. The news that the King had chosen me to be the Prince's training mentor traveled throughout the entire Western region of the kingdom, where the camp is located. I'm sure it reached my mother's ears by now.

"It's been almost two years. I was once a feeble guy who was unfamiliar with weaponry. But now I can wield each weapon to its maximum potential." I chuckled as I recalled the events of the previous months.

The room was deafeningly quiet until Imelda spoke up.

"I know you have goals other than acquiring strength. I assume you wish to use this on someone with power." I gave her a quick glance. "However, whoever it is, I hope you keep your cool. Always think about everything before acting, especially your mother. You're doing this for her, right? "

For a while, I kept quiet. Of course, Imelda would be skeptical of my motives. A weak boy enters the camp, with little knowledge of fighting, machines, weapons, and other camp-related matters.

I sighed and closed the final box containing my things. "I'm only going to claim what's mine," I explained before taking my baggage. "I am extremely grateful for your patience with me. I will be eternally grateful, Ms. Imelda. You taught me many things, and I thank you for continually reminding me of my purpose. That is my main goal, to reclaim what is rightfully mine and my mother's. I'm going to head out now. I hope everything will be in its proper place the next time we meet," I said as I left the training camp that had provided me with many opportunities to prepare myself.

When I was ready to board the carriage provided for me, I heard a man yell my name. Liam was rushing when I noticed him.

"Really? You're going to leave without even saying goodbye to your sparring partner?" He was panting.

"Man, this isn't our farewell," I said. "We'll still meet in the Palace," I answered with a grin. He quickly straightens his back, trying to appear confident. We both chuckle. 

"Best of luck, man." He looked at me like an older brother happy for his younger brother and said, "You deserve it because you're not only physically strong but your care for those around you is certainly one of the strong attributes a true champion must have." I thanked him and bid him goodbye. I finally sat inside the carriage and began my journey home.


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