The Epic of The Tyrant King's Chosen One-Chapter 127: The contest I

The following day, as promised, the two spent their day off together, exploring the bustling city.

They started the day off by visiting a quaint little riverside inn, tucked away in the nearby town that was known for its simple yet exquisite food. Ceremus had heard a lot of talk about the place amongst the younger staff describing it as the perfect place to go on a date.

It was nestled along a slow-moving river hidden beneath the shade of ancient willow trees. The building itself was made of warm-toned wood, its exterior adorned with climbing ivy and delicate paper lanterns that remained lit even during the morning light.

As they entered the inn, they were greeted by a swirl of golden hues. The air carried a faint scent of spiced tea and freshly baked goods that made the white-haired giant's mouth water.

A waitress looked up at them and her eyes widened with surprise at the sight of the King of Trojas and his handsome guard at his side.

"W-Welcome to the Riviera dear guest. It is an honor to have the king visit our humble establishment." She gushed, her eyes sparkling with both fear and excitement.

The king nodded. "I would like to be seated in a secluded spot, away from prying eyes." He said coolly.

The waitress nodded. "O-Of course, right away Your Majesty." She then guided them towards one of their guest room, one that was typically reserved for extinguished guests.

The room was wide and included a wooden terrace that extended over the water supported by sturdy beams.

A few intimate seating areas were arranged with soft cushions and low tables allowing guests to sip their morning tea while listening to the soft lull of the river below.

The two sat on the chairs provided and ordered themselves the special spiced tea as well as some freshly baked bread with a spread of olive oil, figs, and cheese. Hael, who was the most eager, ordered even more food alongside the first platter they had ordered—devouring the meal in one sitting.

Ceremus shook his head in amusement as he sipped his tea.

After breakfast, they took a nice stroll in the bustling market in town that was filled with rare goods, performances and a plethora of interesting people enjoying the mid-morning sun.

Ceremus watched as Hael once again enjoyed the sights before him, even purchasing a few ridiculous items and trinkets along the way.

They then stumbled upon an archery contest. The contest took place in a vast, open field just beyond the town walls.

Spectators gathered in a grand semi-circular pavilion, their seats elevated to provide a clear view of the archery stage. At the center of it all stood a raised platform where esteemed guests, including nobles and high-ranking officials watched with keen interest.

The archery range itself was marked by wooden posts, with rows of targets placed at increasing distances. he standard targets were made of tightly woven straw, their centers painted with vibrant red circles, while the more advanced ones had smaller bullseyes or even moving mechanisms—designed to test the precision of only the most skilled archers.

The contest was divided into three progressive rounds, each increasing in difficulty. The first tested accuracy at fixed distances, the second introduced moving targets, and the final round was a test of true mastery. The targets were placed at extreme distances and some were even hidden within obstacles, forcing the archers to reposition and adjust their angles carefully.

The air was filled with excitement and tension as they watched the contest, and a lot of people were rooting for a handsome sharp-eyed man who was the top contender in this round.

The crowd watched with bated breath as he successfully hit the bullseye, earning him a spot at the final round.

Ceremus looked on, not particularly interested in the scene before. The king had been well-versed in archery since a child, it being one of the first forms of martial arts he'd ever learned. He was able to hit targets that were twice as far as the one's on stage at the age of seven. This much was nothing to him.

Hael on the other hand was heavily invested in the contest, his eyes never leaving the stage. He had never used a bow and arrow before, but looking at it, it didn't seem too complicated to handle.

"How long does it normally take to become a master bowman?" He asked Ceremus.

The king thought about it before nonchalantly saying, "A few months?" His estimation was based on what he believed to be human standards.

A spectator from the crowd who was sitting just above them scoffed when he heard Ceremus' answer.

"What do you think archery is? A mere game? How could it only take you a few months to master such a refined and dignified art?" He exclaimed.

Ceremus raised an eyebrow. Since the man was sitting behind them, he was completely unaware of the person he was talking to. He simply believed Ceremus to be a wealthy young master of some noble family who didn't know any better.

A cold smile tugged at the king's lips, but he didn't dignify the comment, choosing to ignore him instead.

"Only a few months?" Hael exclaimed, choosing to ignore the man as well. "How do you think a novice like me would fare?"

The king thought for a moment before saying, "A few minutes?"

This comment made the man nearly explode. "A few minutes?!" He yelled. "Are you making a mockery of the sport?!"

Several pairs of eyes now landed on the man who was starting to cause a scene. A woman from the group glared at him while others urged him to be quiet.

The man however wouldn't have it. He was tired of these amateurs talking out of their behinds. Ceremus on the other hand couldn't help rolling his eyes.

"Anyway" he continued, "it shouldn't take you that long to learn considering how fast you are at grasping things. Archery is a simple and straightforward sport after all."

"That's it! I've had enough of your shit talking." The man exploded, pushing himself to his feet.

The commotion caught the attention of several spectators, and a few even turned away from the contest on stage to see what was happening. A woman beside him yanked at his sleeve, whispering harshly, "Sit down before you make a fool of yourself!"

But the man was too riled up to listen. He marched down a few steps toward Ceremus and Hael, jabbing a finger at them. "If you think archery is so easy, why don't you prove it? Take a bow and show us how 'straightforward' it is!"

Hael blinked in surprise before glancing at Ceremus, who still had not looked back. The king remained seated, legs crossed in an elegant manner, his chin resting against one hand as if utterly bored.

Silence stretched between them, and for a moment, Hael thought Ceremus would ignore the man entirely. But then, with a slow exhale, Ceremus finally turned his head.

The man's anger faltered.

His face drained of color as he was met with a stony face, unmarred with flaws or any imperfections.

The cool indifference in Ceremus' gaze hit him like a freezing wind, and as realization dawned on him—who he had just spoken to, who he had just insulted—his entire body stiffened.

The crowd stirred, murmurs breaking out as those who had already recognized the king exchanged glances.

The man swallowed thickly, his pride and fury wrestling with the sheer horror of his mistake.

Ceremus tilted his head, his expression unreadable. "You want me to prove it?" he mused, voice low and even. "Very well." ƒreewebηoveℓ.com

He rose from his seat with an easy grace, the very air around him shifting. The spectators held their breath.

"If I take that bow and hit the target," Ceremus continued, eyes never leaving the man, "will you cut off your arm and admit that you were wrong?"

The man looked as though he wanted to disappear.