Chapter 65

“Can I really go?” Elena asked again, her voice barely a whisper.

“I’m telling you, it’s fine,” Cura replied, her smile radiating reassurance.

Elena’s doubt lingered as they approached the training grounds. Her steps faltered, weighed down by apprehension. Cura, ever the sprite, turned and grinned, her freckles dancing mischievously. “Elena, you’re really…” she teased, cutting off the sentence with a chuckle.

Reaching out, Cura took Elena’s hand, pulling her forward. As they drew closer, the roar of the training grounds intensified. The clash of steel and the shouts of knights filled the air. The wooden fence, taller than Elena had imagined, seemed to loom over them. She craned her neck, straining to see the pointed tip. Beyond, the tower she had glimpsed from the study emerged and vanished among the leaves. Its imposing presence, with its barred windows, captivated her more than the grandeur of the castle itself.

“We’re here,” Cura announced, her voice echoing the excitement.

They reached the massive iron gate, and Cura leaned her shoulder against it, pushing with all her might.

The rusty gate creaked open, a jarring sound that echoed through the training grounds. Elena, following Cura inside, froze. A sea of eyes, ranging from curious to hostile, met hers. The knights, locked in fierce combat, had stilled, their bodies glistening with sweat, their faces etched with concentration. Some, their forms shifting, had transformed into wolves.

“Surprised to see us all of a sudden?” Cura laughed, her voice a playful counterpoint to the tense atmosphere. She strode towards the knights.

Elena, however, remained rooted in place, her mind reeling. The intensity of the stares, the overwhelming mix of sweat and pheromones, and the heavy breathing of the knights combined to create a sensory overload. She inhaled deeply, trying to steady her racing heart. Only after several moments did her vision clear and her breathing return to normal.

Two knights burst through the gate, panting heavily. Elena, startled at first, recognized their scent as that of her shadow guards. After regaining their breath, they bowed silently to her.

“Cura,” one knight chided, “you told us to take a break since you’d stay with her.” He playfully smacked her on the head.

Cura winced and rubbed her head, but her defiance remained. “I am with her, aren’t I?” she retorted, her hands planted firmly on her hips.

“That’s not what we meant,” the other knight said, his voice laced with exasperation.

Cura burst into laughter, her spirits seemingly unaffected. “I’m telling you to stay alert,” she insisted.

“You little…” the knight began, but the elder knight intervened, his voice carrying a note of authority. “Cura, what’s going on?”

“We came to watch your training. Is that okay?” Cura asked, her voice filled with excitement.

“Well, it’s fine, but…” the knight hesitated, glancing at Elena. “We don’t mind, but His Grace might not approve.”

“His Grace hasn’t returned yet. He probably won’t be back until late tonight, right?” Cura countered, her eyes scanning the training grounds.

“And by the way, could you show us your transformation?” she added, her voice brimming with curiosity.

The knight, who had been observing Elena, stared at Cura in astonishment. “What did you say?”

“I’m asking if you could show us your transformation. Lady Elena seems curious,” Cura replied, her eyes sparkling.

The knights exchanged confused glances, their murmurs echoing through the air. Elena, feeling a surge of embarrassment, wished she could vanish. Although she knew Cura was trying to help, she regretted her impulsive request.

“I’m sorry. We’ll just leave. Please pretend you didn’t hear anything and continue your training,” Elena apologized, her face burning with embarrassment.

“Oh, no, no,” the knights replied, their voices filled with urgency. “It’s not that hard to show you. We were just wondering if it’s okay for Lady Elena to be here.”

Elena felt a wave of embarrassment wash over her. The knights’ formal and respectful demeanor made her uncomfortable.

“See?” Cura said, taking Elena’s hand and leading her to a secluded area.

Elena had no choice but to follow. Cura wiped a wooden bench with a handkerchief and gestured for Elena to sit. As Elena carefully arranged her dress, she felt the knights’ eyes still watching her. Swallowing her nerves, she tried to appear composed.

Despite the lingering attention, Elena began to take in her surroundings more clearly.

The training ground, a vast, circular expanse, exceeded Elena’s expectations. The central arena, spacious enough for full-scale combat, was surrounded by tiers of wooden benches, resembling a miniature amphitheater. Along one side, a formidable array of weapons, including swords, spears, axes, and shields, adorned the wall.

“Sometimes, the knights hold swordsmanship or hand-to-hand combat tournaments here,” Cura explained. “Even the castle’s servants come to watch.”

Elena realized the tiered seating arrangement served a practical purpose. As she settled into her seat, the knights gathered in the center, their animated discussion drawing her attention. The older knight, who had spoken earlier, seemed to be leading the conversation, eliciting nods and gestures from his companions. Watching the knights huddle together in such a tight circle felt oddly intimate.

“It looks like they’ve decided who will do it,” Cura observed, her eyes fixed on the group of knights.

A young knight emerged from the huddle, his reluctance evident in his slow steps and lingering glances.

“Go on, hurry up,” the others urged, their gestures and mouthed words pushing him forward.

The knight, seeming to resign himself to his fate, approached Elena. His dark gray hair, thick and storm-cloud-like, framed a face that matched Serin’s in age. Despite his average height, his muscular build was evident beneath his straining clothes.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked for this,” Elena apologized, her voice filled with regret.

The knight paused, his eyes meeting hers. “Oh, no, it’s fine,” he replied, his initial surprise fading.

“May I ask your name?” Elena inquired politely.

The knight, taken aback by the question, hesitated before answering. “My name is Beryl.”

“Beryl?” Elena repeated.

“Yes,” he confirmed, his voice low and raspy.

“Sir Beryl, I apologize once again for making an unreasonable request. And thank you,” Elena said, her voice filled with gratitude.

“It’s really no trouble,” Beryl replied, scratching his head.

“Are you seriously shy, Beryl?” Cura teased, her laughter echoing through the training grounds. Beryl’s ears flushed bright red.

“Cura, you…” he began, his irritation evident. But before he could finish, he let out a sigh.

With a bow to Elena, Beryl stepped back a few paces. He took a deep breath, his muscles tensing as his veins bulged. His black pupils dilated, consuming the whites of his eyes. His back arched, his spine jutting out, and his body was enveloped in a thick coat of gray fur.

The knight was gone, replaced by a large, menacing gray wolf. A low growl rumbled from its throat, its sharp fangs bared.

Elena, her mouth agape, watched in awe as Beryl transformed into a wolf. Even witnessing it firsthand, the transformation seemed surreal. She wondered if Kennard had undergone a similar process when he turned into a black wolf. The thought of Kennard sent a flutter through her heart.

Rising to her feet, Elena approached Beryl. At her nearness, Beryl hesitated, taking a step back. Tension flickered in his black wolf eyes. As she drew closer, Elena realized Beryl’s face was at her level. When Kennard had transformed, she had to crane her neck to see his face; he was so massive. Compared to him, Beryl seemed smaller.

“Does it hurt when you transform?” Elena asked, recalling the cracking sounds that had accompanied his transformation.

“It doesn’t hurt at all,” Beryl replied, tilting his head.

Just then, a thunderous boom echoed through the training grounds. The iron gate, its center dented as if struck by a bomb, swung open, the connected wooden fence cracking in half. Startled, Elena clutched her chest and looked towards the gate. The crumpled gate tipped over, crashing to the ground.

Standing beside it, in the same spot, was Kennard, transformed into a massive black wolf.