*Clang! *Clang! *Bang!
The sharp sounds of swords slicing through the open air, echoed through the training grounds.
Metal clanged against each other, boots skidding against stone, and the occasional grunts from ragged breaths—filled the air with the sound of both discipline and hard work.
Soldiers, around the training ground, moved with rhythm—their movements powerful, precise, and with unity.
At their front, overlooking them, was the cold captain.
His arms crossed behind his back as a worn training sword was resting at his side.
His eyes sharp as he inspected each soldier, making sure that each performed with utmost precision and strength with their swings.
Then…
*Thud! *Thud! *Thud!
Rapid sounds of footsteps echoed through.
"Captain!" a soldier shouted, sprinting across the courtyard.
"It's the boy!"
The captain didn't flinch yet his brow twitched slightly as he turned slight—a curious expression evident on his face as he raised one brow.
