THE GENERAL'S DISGRACED HEIR

Svara gripped his double-headed battle axe with a firm hand, his intense gaze locked onto David. "Is this really the weak young master I remember?" he mused to himself, a satisfied smile creeping across his rugged face. "It's good to see you again, kid!" Svara's booming voice echoed through the training ground, startling everyone within earshot.

David's brow furrowed in confusion as the intruder addressed him in such a casual, almost familiar manner. He was accustomed to receiving respect due to his status as the son of the De Gor family, even if he wasn't particularly revered in his own right. Captain Kaelen, a king-ranked swordsman, had spoken to him with the deference befitting his lineage. Yet, the brute before him, with his wild demeanour, seemed to disregard all of that, looking at David as if he were nothing more than a small, insignificant figure.

"You've grown to be quite the warrior!" Svara declared, effortlessly twirling his massive axe in the air, creating a swirling current around him. "It's good—you've grown quite some balls. This uncle of yours is pleased!" He suddenly stopped spinning the axe, his grin widening as he observed David.

"Uncle?" David echoed, bewildered by the term. "You're not a De Gor," he shot back, his voice tinged with suspicion.

"Of course, I'm not, idiot. Don't you remember me?" Svara responded, irritation creeping into his tone. David's eye twitched as he met Svara's sharp, menacing gaze. "Huh?" David sighed, trying to make sense of the situation. "I don't know you!" he finally said, his voice firm.

David's mind raced. He was well-versed in the history and members of the De Gor family from the novel,

Trials of Valor

. The De Gors were known for their monstrous strength, immense talent, and their noble bearing—qualities that embodied the concept of

noblesse oblige

. But this man before him was nothing like a noble; he was more akin to a barbarian, a wild force of nature that seemed out of place among the refined and disciplined De Gors.

Just as the tension between David and Svara reached its peak, a soft, melodic chuckle broke through the heavy atmosphere. Amilia, having finished healing Eric, rose to her feet with a serene smile on her face. The sound of her laughter was like a gentle breeze, diffusing the tension and drawing both men's attention toward her.

Amilia's presence was a stark contrast to the brute force that Svara embodied. She carried herself with a grace and elegance that was both disarming and powerful. Her eyes sparkled with amusement as she looked between David and Svara, clearly enjoying the unexpected reunion.

"How could he possibly remember you, Svara? He was just a child, you brute," Amilia teased, her voice lilting with a playful edge as she watched Svara's face fall into a pout. "But surely you remember me, right? No one could forget their cute aunty," she added, striking a seductive pose, her hands resting on her hips, and her gaze filled with a teasing affection that would have melted the heart of any man.

David, however, remained unmoved. "Huh, is something wrong with you, lady?" he asked, his tone flat and indifferent. "I don't know you either," he added, nonchalantly dismissing her.

Amilia's playful demeanour faltered, her expression freezing as David's words hit her like a cold slap. She couldn't believe it. This was the boy she had cared for in her own way, the child she had watched over. Now, here he was, looking at her as if she were nothing more than a stranger. A pang of betrayal twisted in her chest.

Svara, noticing her reaction, burst into a boisterous laugh, his voice echoing through the training ground. "You thought you were special, you hag?" he taunted, his laughter booming as Amilia's frustration visibly flared. "In my tribe," Svara continued, gripping his massive axe with renewed vigour, "people reunite by crossing blades. Don't you agree, Amilia?"

As he spoke, the air around them shifted, the easygoing atmosphere evaporating as tension crackled in its place. Svara's stance grew more aggressive, his muscles tensing as he prepared for combat. The shift was palpable, the air thickening with the promise of a fight.

Amilia's eyes narrowed, her playful demeanour replaced by a sharp, dangerous edge. "I'm not from your tribe, savage," she shot back, her voice cool and deadly, "but I do agree. We should at least try reuniting with little David." Her words were a clear challenge, her gaze locking onto David with a predatory focus.

David, meanwhile, could only sigh inwardly. He hadn't meant to provoke them, but he had simply told the truth—he didn't know these two on a personal level. Sure, he knew of them, but only as the legendary figures from the novel

Trials of Valor

: the Hero of the Wastes and the Rogue Saintess. However, the details about them were minimal at best, leaving David at a significant disadvantage. 'Damn it, Author,' David cursed silently, realizing just how much he was operating in the dark. The only clear fact he knew was that they served someone powerful as executioners.

But now, faced with these two formidable figures, David knew he couldn't afford to dwell on what he didn't know. He had to focus on the present. He could feel the shift in the air, the tension between Svara and Amilia, and the looming threat of a confrontation that he wasn't prepared for.

Svara's grin widened, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "Come on, kid. Let's see if you've really grown," he taunted, his voice filled with a mix of challenge and anticipation.

Amilia, for her part, was already poised to strike, her fingers brushing lightly over the intricate designs of her ceremonial staff. "Don't hold back, David," she murmured, her voice almost a whisper, yet carrying an undeniable weight.

David took a deep breath, his eyes narrowing as he prepared himself. This was not the reunion he had expected, nor the one he wanted, but he had no choice. If they wanted a fight, then a fight they would get.

David could feel the immense pressure radiating from both Amilia and Svara. Their auras were on a completely different level, far surpassing anything he had ever encountered. He couldn't help but wish that Luna and Draven were there with him, but even their presence might not have been enough. After all, he was facing two veterans renowned throughout the entire Solarian Empire.

David knew he had no choice but to rely on every trick he had. He activated [Wolf's Grace], allowing his form to meld seamlessly with the shadows, and prepared [Celestial Wheel] to adapt and analyze their weaknesses. Despite this, doubt gnawed at him. Could he really emerge victorious against these two formidable opponents? This wasn't just a battle; it was a war of attrition, and David had already set the stage for it.

His original plan had been simple yet strategic. He hadn't challenged Eric without a purpose—David wanted to instill a deep, crippling fear in him, to break his will and body as punishment. He'd hoped to push Eric to the brink, knowing that the Earl would step in before the [Shadow Revolver] delivered the final blow. But these two had shown up out of nowhere, disrupting everything. What was their connection to the De Gor family? David wondered, but before he could piece it together, Svara vanished from sight.

"Crap!" David cursed under his breath. Svara was a monster beyond his expectations. In the blink of an eye, the towering warrior appeared before him, his massive double-headed axe raised high, poised to strike. "Let's see how strong you've become," Svara taunted, his voice thick with anticipation.

David tried to retreat, but his body wouldn't obey. Glancing down, he saw that his legs had been encased in solid ice. "Ah, ah, ah," Amilia chided, waving her staff as it emitted a soft blue light. The frost at his feet shimmered ominously, effectively trapping him. He was absolutely cornered, his escape routes cut off in less than a second.

With no other option, David had to rely on [Celestial Wheel] to survive Svara's impending attack. He began to gather his energy, preparing for the worst, when suddenly, the air in the training ground shifted. An aura, far greater and more oppressive than anything he had ever felt, flooded the space. Svara halted his assault immediately, his axe frozen mid-swing.

Both Svara and Amilia dropped to one knee, their faces tense with a mixture of reverence and fear. "The executioners greet their commander," they declared in unison, their voices filled with respect.

David's heart pounded in his chest as he felt an ominous presence settle over the area. It was massive, overwhelming, like standing in the shadow of a colossal whale. Whatever this presence was, it was powerful enough to change the entire dynamic of the situation.

The atmosphere was thick with tension, the stakes rising higher with each passing second. David knew the situation had taken a sharp turn, one that he hadn't anticipated. Whatever was about to happen, it was beyond anything he could have prepared for. All he could do now was wait and see how the next moments would unfold, knowing that they could very well determine his fate.

***

A/N: Sorry for the late chapter guys, I decided to visit my mom and I accidentally broke some vintage plates, well a lot,

gulp.