Total pages in book: 136
Estimated words: 128087 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 640(@200wpm)___ 512(@250wpm)___ 427(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128087 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 640(@200wpm)___ 512(@250wpm)___ 427(@300wpm)
Lukais’ wife made sure he paid for that by swatting him on his rear end with her tail when he was underwater.
After the game ended, he challenged a few of the kids to a race.
After he was victorious, he cheered so loud that he didn’t notice the merfolk were no longer laughing with him, their eyes trained on the shore.
Lazaar turned to see Dorema in her gleaming gold armor, her eight-foot spear in her right hand as she stood rigidly in front of thirty titanesses.
Realizing he was now alone, his playmates having fled, he began to swim toward the coastline. Oleksandr and Elephaa made an urgent gesture for him to swim faster.
Lazaar blinked to the shore and hurried out of the water, breathing hard, wondering what was happening.
Elephaa directed one of Lazaar’s aids to drape his black cloak around his half-naked body.
Dorema’s expression was so stern and challenging that Lazaar became nervous.
“I assigned you this duty because I assumed you would not only protect our father’s heart, our tribrid, but also train him to protect himself.”
Elephaa stood at attention under her big sister’s scrutiny.
“May I remind you, Commander, that your wife discharged me from infantry for being unable to fulfill the requirements. With my handicap, I cannot train him to the fullest of his ability.”
Dorema flipped her spear and, with lightning speed, spun it around her back and aimed the hard steel toward Elephaa’s face.
Lazaar couldn’t blink fast enough to help her, but he didn’t have to.
With one arm, Elephaa yanked her sword from her back and blocked the blow with the point of Dorema’s spear an inch from her throat.
“Prince Lazaar has the potential to be the greatest warrior the worlds have ever seen. I did not choose you, the chief of his guards, without considerable thought.”
Dorema righted her spear and eased out of her fighting stance as Elephaa returned her sword to its sheath.
“These excuses are beneath you,” Dorema whispered sternly in Elephaa’s face. “You always were, and still are, one of the best warriors Scáthanna will ever have.”
Elephaa cast her eyes down.
“You are the leader of his guards for a reason.” Dorema narrowed her eyes and said in a no-nonsense tone, “Behave like it.”
“Yes, Commander.”
Lazaar flinched when her attention turned to him.
“You fussed at my father for wanting to be treated as an equal, yes?”
“I did.”
“Then I expect you to be armed and on my training field before I get there.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Yes, Commander!” she snapped.
“Y-yes, Commander,” Lazaar stuttered.
Dorema got in his face, so close he could feel her hot breath. “And the next time I send for you, tribrid, you better damn well make haste. Because if you ever tell me to wait again, I will make sure you regret it.”
He didn’t have a chance to acknowledge or apologize before Dorema turned away, her guards falling into formation behind her.
Lazaar instead apologized to Elephaa, feeling as if he’d gotten her in trouble.
She waved him off. “Dorema is right, your grace. Playtime is over. Scáthanna is on the brink of war. I should’ve been training you.”
Zepharali
Four Weeks Later
Zepharali stayed concealed within the observation tower that gave him the best view of Dorema’s difficult training grounds.
He’d promised he would not intervene in Lazaar’s training, but it was the hardest promise he’d ever fulfilled.
Zepharali believed his daughters worked Lazaar too hard, but they treated him the same as the rest of the infantry.
Lazaar was bent over, gasping for breath after going through the full obstacle course for the hundredth time today, if not more.
For all the gods, Dorema. Let him at least get some water.
Zepharali was proud of Lazaar’s amazing progress, but it was always a battle of wills for him not to whisk his love away.
But if he’d done that, Lazaar’s fireballs wouldn’t be as sharp as they were now. He had faster reflexes and was hitting his targets every time.
His warlock magic was still a bit slow, unable to combat the many sunlocks training spells.
However, he could counteract and blink so fast that Zepharali and the other titanesses struggled to keep up with him. But it still wasn’t enough.
Lazaar struggled with mastering weapons and hand-to-hand combat. He wouldn’t be able to rely solely on his fire lord abilities as his primary weapon. He’d need to harness all of them…at the same time.
It was as if he were afraid to pull too hard from his dark power.
Lazaar
After another grueling week of training, Lazaar was beating the hell out of himself for demanding to be treated as an equal.
The Officials of Training were all prior infantry warriors who’d been relieved of duties due to injuries they’d sustained in prior battles, but just like Elephaa, it was not an excuse they could use to shirk other duties.
Sometimes, Lazaar felt they expected too much from him, but he’d caught bits and pieces of conversations—with his enhanced hearing—of the war bound for Scáthanna.