Next Day
Morning ca quietly.
The grey sky from yesterday had lightened slightly, thin clouds drifting lazily above the camp. The air was cool, filled with the sounds of soldiers training. Steel clashing, boots striking the ground, commands echoing in disciplined rhythm.
Inside the dical tent, Amon opened his eyes.
This ti, there was no sharp pain greeting him.
He inhaled slowly, then exhaled.
"...Much better," he murmured.
Compared to yesterday, his condition had improved greatly. His body still felt sore, heavy in places, but the overwhelming pain was gone. He could feel his limbs properly now.
Carefully, he pushed himself up.
There was discomfort, but it was bearable.
Bandages still covered parts of his torso and arms, but they had been changed and properly tightened. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up slowly, testing his balance.
His legs trembled slightly.
But they held.
Amon smiled faintly.
On a nearby stool lay the clothes prepared for him. Yesterday, he had been wearing a simple patient robe. Now, he changed into proper clothes, black trousers and a plain gray T-shirt. Nothing fancy. Nothing special.
Just comfortable.
’They are good,’ Amon thought.
In one corner of the tent were his sword and hatchet.
"Oh! They retrieved my weapons and even kept them here."
After adjusting his clothes, Amon strode toward them and lifted both. Fortunately, both of his storage rings were still on his fingers.
The weapons vanished into the rings.
Then he stepped out from behind the divider.
Brey Clark was there, organizing dical supplies. When he noticed Amon standing on his own, his eyebrows lifted slightly in surprise.
"Oh? You’re already up," Brey said. "Looks like you recovered faster than expected."
Amon walked toward him, his steps steady.
"Thanks to you," he said sincerely. "I feel much better than yesterday."
Brey waved it off lightly. "Your body did most of the work. You just had good timing."
Amon shook his head slightly. "Still... thank you. For everything."
Brey paused, then smiled. "You’re welco."
Amon straightened his posture. "I’ll go et the commander now."
Brey nodded. "Good. He’s been expecting you. Just don’t overdo it."
"I won’t," Amon replied.
With that, he turned and walked toward the tent entrance.
As the canvas flap lifted and sunlight filtered in, Amon stepped outside.
The camp spread before him. Soldiers training, tents arranged neatly, banners fluttering faintly in the wind.
He took a slow breath.
’I’m really alive,’ he thought.
And now, it was ti to face the one who had brought him back from the edge.
Amon began walking forward, leaving the dical tent behind.
He observed his surroundings. The black forest surrounded them.
’It seems like they cleared this area for setting up a base. Guess they cut down many trees.’
Amon’s eyes fell on the biggest tent, which looked like the main place for etings and discussions.
Two knights wearing silver armor were guarding the entrance.
When Amon reached them, he asked one of them.
"Is the Commander here?" he asked carefully, maintaining a respectful tone.
The knight glanced at him and recognized him. He knew that Galahad had told them that if Amon were to co, they were to let him in.
"Yes. He is inside. He was waiting for you."
"Oh... I will go then."
Amon thanked him.
He lifted the flap of tent and entered.
Though Galahad had saved Amon that day, he didn’t rember who he was. He had been really dazed. Everything was blurry.
Brey also hadn’t said anything about him. He had only told Amon that their Commander saved him.
Amon hadn’t bothered to ask his na.
So the mont he entered the tent and saw the person sitting at the huge wooden table like a leader, the table filled with docunts.
Amon’s eyes widened in surprise. He was shocked more than surprised.
Never in his wildest thoughts had he imagined that Galahad Valliant would be the one who saved him.
He was the father of Senior Jareth, who died while saving him.
Amon really didn’t know how to feel about this.
’First I was saved by Senior Jareth. Now by his father... hah, what a coincidence...’
There were currently only two people sitting at the table.
Galahad and Caspian.
The strongest people here. They also held the highest ranks, while Lyra, Eldrin, and Frederick were under them.
A pair of clear blue eyes and yellow eyes t Amon’s.
Amon bowed respectfully to them. "Sir Galahad, I am Amon Vale. Thank you for saving my life."
Galahad remained silent, observing the boy. Caspian simply blinked.
It wasn’t Amon’s fault. It wasn’t like he had received any education on how to greet soone of high rank, like nobles. So most of the ti, he used such lines, trying to mimic things he had seen sowhere and doing it badly.
"Amon... co, have a seat." Galahad’s heavy voice made Amon flinch. He straightened.
He walked toward the table and sat on the chair.
Galahad looked at him calmly while Caspian watched him with curiosity.
"How are you now?" Galahad asked simply about his health.
"I am fine now. All thanks to you. If not for you... I might have died." Amon gave a grateful smile.
"No need to thank . I did what I needed to do. Her Majesty ordered to look for you. So don’t thank . I rely did my duty," Galahad replied in a strict tone.
Amon nodded. ’Empress Celestia?... Maybe the Headmistress asked her... or maybe Senior Selena...’
At the thought of Selena, his lips curved slightly.
But his thoughts were interrupted by Galahad.
"I will tell you where you are currently, what our current conditions are, and how much longer you need to wait here until soone cos for you."
Those words caught Amon’s attention. He wanted to hear these things more than anything. This would decide when he could leave this damn place.
Amon focused on Galahad’s words and listened carefully.
The more he heard, the more sour his expression beca. Really the boy can’t be happy all the ti.
User Comments
0 comments from readers