Regaleon: The Forgotten Knight

There was silence.

Not the ordinary silence born from the absence of sound, but the kind that seemed capable of swallowing every noise within its reach.

It was so profound that even the faintest sound; a pin striking the ground, a quiet intake of breath, or the rustling of fabric, would have seemed as though it had been amplified directly beside everyone’s ears.

The atmosphere itself had become motionless. In fact, it wasn’t merely the atmosphere... It was the people as well.

Across the training grounds, countless trainees stood frozen where they were. Their mouths hung slightly agape, their eyes were widened in utter stupefaction, and their bodies had become so rigid that they resembled statues carved from stone.

Even the veteran instructors were no different.

Several of them stared toward the arena with expressions bordering on disbelief, as though the very reality they had accepted all their lives had suddenly decided to rewrite itself before their eyes.

However, their reactions were perfectly understandable and justified.

Long before the spar had begun, almost everyone had already decided upon the outcome that Aldren would win; perhaps not effortlessly, but he would undoubtedly emerge victorious.

It wasn’t because they looked down on Maverick. Rather, it was because Aldren’s abilities were already known to everyone present. They had witnessed his countless training sessions, his relentless improvement, and the frightening level of martial prowess he possessed despite his young age.

Maverick, on the other hand, was an undiscovered variable.

Compared to the familiar certainty that Aldren represented, Maverick was little more than an unread book whose pages remained sealed.

And yet, against every expectation, prediction and what many had accepted as inevitable, the outcome had unfolded in complete reverse.

It was a startling subversion of everything they had anticipated. The result was surreal, astonishing, and utterly inconceivable...

Meanwhile, rhe person at the center of everyone’s disbelief was equally stunned.

Lying upon the arena floor, Aldren continued staring at the gleaming tip of the broadsword hovering before his forehead while his mind replayed the exchange over and over again.

Where had he gone wrong? Also, at what exact moment had victory suddenly slipped from his grasp?

For a fleeting instant, part of him instinctively searched for another move, another opening, another possibility that might still turn the battle around; but the instant he heard Maverick speak, he abandoned those intentions.

Those two simple words shattered every lingering illusion. Abd it was only then that true realization settle within him. He has lost without a single doubt...

Some spectators unfamiliar with genuine combat might believe the match had not truly been decided; after all, Aldren still possessed his weapon and was still conscious.

But Aldren himself knew otherwise.

The distance separating the sword’s tip from his forehead measured less than an inch. All Maverick needed to do was extend his arm slightly and the blade would pierce his skull before he could even finish forming the thought of escape.

Naturally, there existed techniques capable of evading an opponent while lying upon the ground.

One such movement was the combat shoulder roll, a defensive maneuver designed to rapidly shift one’s body out of an opponent’s attack line.

Unfortunately, such techniques only worked when both combatants possessed comparable reaction speeds.

Both he and Maverick were fully-fledged Rank One Etheryeans. Their perception, reflexes, and muscular response had already surpassed those of ordinary humans by an enormous margin.

Before Aldren could even initiate the first motion required for a combat shoulder roll, Maverick’s sword would already have ended the battle. And that single realization extinguished every remaining trace of resistance.

More importantly, Maverick had not thrust his blade forward. Instead, he had stopped.

Even while holding absolute victory within his grasp, he had chosen restraint over ruthlessness and that single act earned Aldren’s respect more than the victory itself...

"That’s enough." Instructor Aegon’s stern voice suddenly shattered the suffocating silence.

The veteran instructor stepped forward from the edge of the arena, his sharp golden eyes carefully observing both young men.

Throughout the entire spar, he had followed every exchange without missing a single detail.

From the moment Aldren lost his footing until Maverick’s sword halted before his forehead, Instructor Aegon had already reached his conclusion. There would be no miraculous comeback, especially not against an opponent like Maverick.

Therefore, allowing the duel to continue would merely prolong the inevitable contest.

"Maverick," he said calmly. "Stand down."

Without hesitation, Maverick lowered his broadsword. The sharp blade withdrew from before Aldren’s face before he casually rested the weapon by his side.

Then, he extended his left hand.

Aldren looked at it briefly before breaking into another broad grin. Without the slightest hesitation, he grabbed Maverick’s forearm.

With a firm pull, Maverick helped him back onto his feet...

The moment Aldren regained his balance, he looked directly at Maverick. The blazing fire within his golden eyes had not diminished in the slightest; if anything, it burned brighter than before.

A broad smile spread across his face as he spoke. "hat was a good fight."

There was no bitterness, humiliation or resentment in his voice. Instead, there was only sincere admiration and his tone carried genuine appreciation, completely devoid of pretense.

To an outsider, such composure after defeat might appear unusual. But to Aldren, strength deserved acknowledgment regardless of where it came from.

The brief exchange they had shared had taught him several things...

First, Maverick possessed combat experience far beyond his own.

Considering that the latter had spent nearly ten years surviving within the Frozen North, that realization hardly surprised him.

Stories about that frozen battlefield were widespread throughout Valoria; endless skirmishes, ferocious Beasts, and life-and-death conflicts occurring almost daily.

Compared to such an environment, even House Valehart’s rigorous training seemed considerably gentler...

Second, despite possessing clearly superior combat experience and martial understanding, Maverick had never looked down upon him.

Many veteran warriors often dismissed weaker challengers without even entertaining the possibility of crossing blades.

But Maverick had done the opposite. He had accepted the challenge without arrogance, fought sincerely, and respected Aldren as a fellow martial artist.

That alone earned Aldren’s wholehearted esteem.

Looking at Maverick, he smiled again.

"Thank you for the fight." He paused before adding sincerely. " learned far more from this spar than I expected."

Maverick simply nodded, a faint smile finally appearing upon his usually composed face.

"You also fought well." His gaze lingered upon Aldren for a brief moment. "Truthfully, I didn’t expect someone with your physique to wield the spear with such refinement. You were far more technically accomplished than I anticipated."

Aldren laughed heartily, his earlier disappointment vanishing completely upim hearing Maverick’s praise.

His eyes practically sparkled with excitement as he said. "Let’s do this again sometime."

Maverick shrugged casually. "You choose the time and place. And I’ll be there."

The two exchanged smiles born from mutual respect and recognition before finally stepping down from the arena beneath Instructor Aegon’s approving gaze.

The instant both of them left the platform, the training grounds erupted...

The silence shattered like fragile glass. Conversations exploded from every direction as trainees and knights enthusiastically discussed everything they had just witnessed.

Voices overlapped one another without pause; some animatedly reenacted portions of the battle using exaggerated gestures while others analyzed the exchanges with remarkable seriousness.

Several veteran knights even quietly debated the technical brilliance displayed during the duel.

The entire training ground buzzed with excitement to such an extent that it resembled a marketplace rather than a disciplined training facility.

But beither Maverick nor Aldren paid the commotion any attention. Walking side by side, they returned to where House Valehart’s younger generation had gathered.

The moment they arrived, both were immediately surrounded...

Maverick found himself receiving a flood of astonished exclamations, admiration, and heartfelt praise regarding the level of martial skill he had displayed.

His victory had genuinely shocked them.

Not one among them had expected him to defeat Aldren, let alone do so with such composure and tactical precision.

Several of the youths excitedly questioned him about techniques he had employed during the battle, while others simply expressed amazement toward the combat instincts he had demonstrated.

Meanwhile, Aldren was met with entirely different reactions. Some expressed disappointment over his defeat, though none of it carried ridicule or mockery.

Instead, there were encouraging pats upon his shoulders, reassuring smiles, and words of comfort acknowledging how well he had fought against such a formidable opponent.

Far from being discouraged, Aldren accepted every remark with his usual broad grin. To him, losing only meant there was more room to grow...

Unfortunately for everyone present, the respite proved short-lived as Instructor Aegon’s stern command echoed throughout the training grounds.

Then within moments, the younger generation reluctantly dispersed before returning to their assigned exercises.

Not even Aldren escaped.

Having only just completed an exhausting spar, he was immediately sent back into training alongside everyone else. Yet strangely enough, he seemed even more enthusiastic than before.

Clearly, the defeat had not crushed his spirit. If anything, it had only strengthened his resolve...

Watching his companions resume training, Cedric remained silent for several contemplative moments.

Only after everyone had returned to their routines did he finally turn toward Maverick, a small smile resting upon his lips.

"I knew you would be strong." He chuckled softly. "But I never imagined you were that formidable."

Maverick looked back at him. For once, a playful smile appeared upon his usually calm face as he replied.

"I suppose there’s more beneath my unassuming appearance than you initially assumed."

Although spoken lightly, something flickered deep within his golden eyes. It was subtle, almost impossible to discern. Yet it carried an indescribable depth.

Cedric studied him for a brief moment before slowly nodding. "I suppose there is."

Silence settled between the two cousins once more. This time, it carried a strangely congenial atmosphere...

Eventually, Cedric looked toward the sprawling training grounds one final time before speaking.

"Well, now that you’ve seen the Valehart Training Grounds..." He smiled. "I think it’s time I showed you somewhere even more interesting."

With that, he turned and began walking toward another section of Castle Valehart.

Maverick glanced once at the bustling training grounds before quietly following after him. And just like that, the tour through Castle Valehart continued.