“You’ll love it, I promise.” She felt a blush rise to her cheeks as she realized how much she wanted him to love it. I can’t wait to show you all the sights and wonders of this place.” Her voice was confident and eager. Father has arranged a tour of the city for us after the ceremony. He felt trapped and restless, knowing that his other self was roaming free. He hated being confined to this palace, but he had given his word to the King that he would stay until he was ready to defend himself. What’s it like beyond these walls?” His voice was laced with frustration. “You know what? I wish I could see more of this country. Joharis fell onto his bed as soon as they reached his room, too tired to even take off his boots. You’ve done enough work for today.” She led him through the palace halls, where they received respectful nods from the guards and servants. You deserve a good night’s sleep before tomorrow. She smiled timidly at him and helped him to his feet.
“But I’m also eager to see what’s in store for me.” He thought of Beatrice’s lessons about the ceremony and how it would unlock his true potential as a hero. “I’m beat from all this training,” he said. He rubbed his sore neck and smiled weakly. “How are you feeling? Are you ready for tomorrow’s ceremony?” She was talking about the hero’s awakening, a ceremony where he would receive a blessing of the goddess. “Joharis,” Jezebel’s gentle voice interrupted his musings. He wondered if this was a propaganda campaign to keep him on the humanity’s side or if this was how history really remembered her. They omitted how she had saved many lives and brought prosperity to the lands she had conquered. The books she used were written by Evilian’s enemies, who portrayed her as a bloodthirsty tyrant who showed no mercy to anyone. She was very strict and professional, never letting him get away with anything less than excellence.īeatrice taught him a lot about the past 500 years, but he didn’t know how much of it was true. She reminded him of his old math teacher from his high school days, who always gave him hard problems and expected perfect answers. Her name was Beatrice, a woman in her forties with a plain appearance and a stern expression. In addition to Roderick, Joharis had another teacher who taught him the history and common sense of this world. Roderick watched him with a stern gaze, never praising him but never giving up on him either. He sharpened his strength and stamina, feeling his body transform into that of a warrior. He swung a wooden sword thousands of times until his arms were numb and his hands blistered. He ran for hours through the field, dodging blunt arrows and leaping over obstacles. He had made it through another day of Roderick’s hellish training, but he knew he was far from ready to wield a proper blade.įor a month day after day, Joharis braved Roderick’s merciless training. A cool breeze caressed his face, soothing his sweat-drenched skin.
Joharis slumped against the wooden fence that enclosed the training grounds, feeling every ache and bruise in his body. The sun sank below the horizon, painting the palace walls with fiery streaks of orange and red.
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