The crisp morning air of the woodlands nipped at John's exposed skin as he stood opposite his father. Sunlight dripped through the canopy, dappling the forest floor in shifting patterns of light and shadow. The mountains loomed in the distance, their peaks shrouded in mist, a silent testament to the ancient power that permeated this land.
The Terrado domain of Biringan, a kingdom steeped in enchantment, is located in the southern part of the Zumer prefecture, known for its mystical aura. This domain lies beneath ancient magical ruins with portal closed long ago, and it was watched over by Solomon. He received this area as his own after earning recognition for his bravery while serving as knight captain to the monarch - their female ruler known as Queen Carolina.
This kingdom is considered to be non-existent in the eyes of ordinary people, as there are many tales about this enchanted place, but in reality, it's actually covers nearly 12,000 square kilometers, or about 4,700 square miles of total land area which almost double the size of Brunei. It is a remote island hidden behind many layers to keep it out of sight from the mortals.
John clutched his double daggers, a rare sight in a realm where single blades were the norm among boys his age. He hailed from a more than a century into the future, where martial skills were almost forgotten. Having traveled back in time, he possessed a wealth of knowledge about technology, combat and strategy.
Solomon, his father, on the other hand was a figure of striking contrast. A half-human, half-Fey, he possessed an ethereal beauty, with eyes that seemed to hold the wisdom of centuries and hair that shimmered with an otherworldly sheen. Today, the usual warmth in his gaze was replaced with a stern focus.
"Remember what you've learned, John," Solomon said, his voice breaking the quiet of the woods. "Speed, accuracy, and awareness. " These are your key tools. Ever since he noticed his child's remarkable progress the previous year, he had been pushing their training to the maximum.
John nodded, feeling his heart race. He was aware that his father's expectations were very high. Solomon was not only his dad but also his coach, guiding him through this unfamiliar world. Since the accident a year ago when John fell from the cliff, leaving him with a scar on his arm, Solomon had been training him tirelessly, refining his skills with the double daggers, and testing his endurance to the extreme.
"I will not let you down, Dad," John said, his voice resolute even though he felt nervous.
Solomon pointed to a lineup of wooden posts he had arranged earlier.
"Today, our focus is on swiftness and precision. I want you to navigate through the posts, hitting each one with exactness. Visualize them as adversaries, their vulnerabilities laid bare, waiting for your attack. "
John took a deep breath, closed his eyes briefly to find his center, and steeled himself for the upcoming challenge. He closed his eyes for a brief moment, envisioning the training dummies as horrific shapes, their motives sinister. When he opened his eyes again, his concentration was intense.
Swish! Slash!
He sprang into action, a disciplined flurry of energy. His blades shone in the sunshine as he negotiated the hurdles, each strike hitting its mark with a satisfying thud.
He moved elegantly across the hurdles, each step calculated and graceful, showcasing the immense effort he had invested in honing his ability with the double daggers. Solomon watched him intently, his face without any hint of emotion. He only stared silently, which inspired John to push himself harder; he gave no inspiring comments.
At last breaking the silence, Solomon breathed a bit hard after John completed the course, a mix of pride and concern evident in his expression. "Well done," he remarked, his voice constant.
"But you still need a room for growth. You can be faster. More precise. Your actions are still too predictable."
John's expression deepened a bit. He appreciated his father's point, but he was striving his all.
"I'm doing my best, Dad," he responded, some annoyance flashing through in his voice.
Solomon's appearance softened a bit. "I see your efforts, son; I am proud of what you've accomplished. "
"You have to understand, though, that in this world half-hearted effort won't be enough. One must be ready for everything."
They were in that conversation, when suddenly, a deep growl pierced the woods' quiet from the trees. Both Solomon and John came to stops, their senses intensified. Once more, closer, the growl sounded, laced with a furious ferocity that shook John's body.
Solomon stood in front of John, his hand firmly gripping the hilt of his sword, ready to defend against any threat.
"Stay behind me," he muttered, his eyes searching the tree line. "That is not an ordinary creature. "
The underbrush shook fiercely, rustling with a menacing energy, as a monstrous figure burst into the clearing, its presence sending shivers down John's spine. It bore no resemblance to anything John had ever seen. Though its shape was dog-like, it was far larger and more powerful than any dog he had known. Its fur was dark and knotted; its eyes burned with a threatening crimson glow. In a menacing snarl, its razor-sharp teeth were seen.
"An Orc dog," Solomon whispered, his voice grimmed and worried. "I am not expecting to encounter such a monster here." Before they came to this place, he surveyed the area several times. But now, this kind of incident has happened. 'Why is this monster wandering around here?' his question to himself.
John knew of Orcs from the stories Solomon had told him. Brutish, savage creatures, twisted by dark magic. An Orc dog, he realized, must be just as dangerous, if not more so.
"Is it going to attack us?" John asked his father, his voice barely above a whisper.
Solomon nodded grimly. "Undoubtedly." Orc dogs are fiercely territorial and incredibly aggressive. This is no longer a training exercise, son. "This is a fight for our survival." We need to be careful. Our territory is experiencing something unusual in the last couple of week now, something is making this extraordinary things to happen.
The Orc dog jumped forward, its large jaws snapping shut. Solomon took hold of his sword, the metal shining brightly in the sun. With smooth and precise moves, he faced the attack of the creature directly. Solomon responded to the Orc dog's strike, the noise of metal meeting teeth ringing out through the woods.
"Stay back, John!" Solomon shouted, his voice strained, as he positioned himself between John and the oncoming Orc dog. "I'll handle this!"