THE LEGACY OF THE SWORD MASTER

Chapter four

Kael’s breath hitched.

It was her.

The girl from the forest—the one who had mocked his swordplay, bested him with a grin. She wasn’t some wandering rogue. She was royalty.

Her cloak no longer shimmered with moonlight but with real gold threads. Her hair was woven with tiny rubies, her steps light yet commanding as she walked beside the King.

Layla. Someone whispered her name as she passed, and Kael clenched his fists.

He looked again through the tiny hole in the wall. The same girl who had laughed while striking his backside now walked with a crown resting lightly on her brow. The King's daughter. And she had played with him like he was nothing but a toy.

His pride burned, but confusion ran deeper. Why hadn’t she said anything? Why pretend? Why come to him at all?

"Line them up!" a guard barked, yanking Kael back to reality.

He stepped out into the courtyard, joining the rest of the slaves. His tunic clung to his skin. Blood from his knuckles had soaked through the bandage. He lowered his gaze, avoiding Layla’s eyes.

But she was staring straight at him.

Kael felt it—the weight of her gaze. Sharp. Curious. Knowing.

Dareth stepped forward with a forced smile, his hands clasped. “Your Majesty, it is an honor. As always.”

The King’s voice boomed, calm yet deadly. " it been a long time, Dareth. I think the last i saw you was when." he paused and smirked.

Kael wanted to hear what the king had to say. He was anxious to hear him mention his father's name but then nothing. Most of the citizen didn't remember who he was anymore.

Haron Rivenhart had vanished alongside his name and valor and his son was nothing like him.

" It is around the time for the next tournament. It is time you delegate your powers as the Swordmaster to someone worthy of it." The king looked at Dareth.

" My son, Rand." Dareth looked at his son who ran towrads him. " He is more than capable to be the next Swordmaster." Dareth replied.

" Uhmm..." the king said slowly, his eyes meeting with that of Dareth. " And you are sure there is no one who is meeting the standard of the next Swordmaster." King Ashton asked.

" None. I have trained most of the kids but none of them is equal to my son in strength, speed and ability " Dareth said proudly

“We’ve heard whispers, Dareth. About a boy. My daughter said she saw him in the woods."

Kael’s heart stopped.

“A boy?” Dareth echoed, feigning confusion. “Surely, Majesty, I house many. Perhaps Your Grace could be more specific?”

Layla stepped forward, her voice light but firm. “A boy with the hunger of a warrior. One who trains under the moonlight and carries fire in his eyes.”

Kael lifted his head slightly. Her voice. So familiar now. She was playing with him again—but this time, in front of everyone.

Dareth’s smile didn’t falter, but Kael saw his eyes darken. “My daughter likes to speak in riddles. None here possess such fire. Only ash.”

A lie. And Kael knew it.

The King looked over the slaves one by one. When his eyes reached Kael, they paused.

“You.” His voice cut through the air like a blade.

Kael looked up.

The King stared hard. Layla beside him watched with a flicker of amusement.

“What is your name, boy?” the King asked.

Kael hesitated. “Kael,” he said, forcing his voice steady.

“Kael…” The King studied him, then glanced at Dareth. “He reeks of blood and dust. Not kitchen work.”

Dareth laughed nervously. “Boys his age fight invisible wars in their heads, Majesty. Nothing more.”

Layla stepped forward again. “Perhaps a duel. For entertainment. Let him spar with Rand.”

Rand smirked from the side. “With pleasure, Princess.”

Kael’s heart thudded. This was no game. Rand trained with soldiers. He was a brute. And Kael... Kael only had rage.

But he stepped forward anyway.

He wasn’t going to back down.

Rand picked up a practice sword and tossed one to Kael.

The circle was formed. Slaves, guards, even servants gathered.

Kael held the sword tightly, his knuckles aching beneath the bandage. Across from him, Rand spun his blade casually, flashing a wicked grin.

“You should’ve stayed hidden,” he whispered.

Then charged.

Kael barely dodged the first blow. Rand came at him like a storm—slashes, feints, kicks. Kael stumbled back, blocking, barely keeping up.

But rage gave him vision.

Every insult. Every scar. Every time he had scrubbed Dareth’s floors with bleeding hands—all of it surged now.

He spun low, catching Rand off-guard, and slammed his elbow into Rand’s side.

Rand grunted, staggered.

A gasp rippled through the crowd.

Kael saw Layla smile.

Rand came back with fury, his strikes wilder, less precise. Kael ducked one, sidestepped another—then struck Rand across the face with the hilt.

Blood sprayed.

Rand fell.

Silence.

Dareth looked at Kael and the look was more the enough to send fear into his heart. Rand got up swinging his sword in the air.

He launched at Kael again but this time, Kael was not attacking.

He started to move back in a defense mechanism.

" What are you doing?" The princess said with fury.

She has stucked her neck out for him.

She has sent him trained in the mountains for many days and had followed him each to know where he comes from.

And now this?

Stracy was so frustrated when she saw Rand land the finally blow that sent Kael down to the dusty floor. The king looked at Kael on the floor and back at Rand.

He has seen what needed to be seen. Rand was about to bash Karl's skull when he shouted.

" Stop! I think I have seen what I need I see here today, Dareth. Prep that servant boy up. He resumes training at the swordmaster's academy."

Having said that, the king walked out on Dareth whose face was filled with rage and anger