He Holds His Crown [BL] ✅

Chapter 5: Words Down Our Throats

"Watch my movements you idiot!" Arthir shouted.

"I am!" Cyris shouts back, swinging his burning blade at Arthir, who dodges.

They fought the next day, and the next and the next. Three days of fighting over and over again, ending in draws and breaks. It was impossible, how was Arthir so on par with Cyris and remain unscathed most of the time? Just how?

"Prince Cyris, do not put all your weight to that side. You'll tire out more easily!"

The General and soldiers watching: Is he trying to make that monster even more monstrous!!?

Cyris clicked his tongue and swung his sword more swiftly, breath even, "Well you should watch your footing and amass power at one point to strike."

"Oh? Many thanks."

"I'll win this time."

"Excuse me? You dare to steal my line?"

The two finish in a draw once again, fighting further would only break their bodies and worsen their conditions. Their audience looked horrified. Arthir and Cyris once said that they were sparring, but the one look at them and people could mistake them coming out of a warzone.

Arthir frowns, assessing the damage of his robes and body. So many cuts and tears...His lips fall, crestfallen at his condition. Nevertheless, his injuries needed to be treated. He raised his sleeve to soak the blood on the side of his face.

Meanwhile, Cyris was doing what he can with his own wounds. Shit, he hits hard.

"Let's go to the medic."

"Yeah, yeah. Oh, we're doing a gun fight tomorrow. I won't lose to you."

Arthir chuckles lightly and nods. "I'll beat you. I have to leave after all."

Cyris looked startled, suddenly reminded of the reason why they had fought in the first place. "Do you...really have to leave?"

Arthir blinked at Cyris for a moment and realized. With a hum, he says. "What? You're going to miss me?"

"It is a pleasure fighting with you."

Arthir froze, almost letting out a surprised noise. He expected the Prince to refute or something similar but to get an unexpected honest answer...Arthir suppressed his bewilderment and kept a calm face.

Cyris continued. "I have never felt more challenged with anyone but you. Finding an equal and exchanging blows...That's something I never thought I'd find ever since my father retired from the battlefield."

"I see...I"m honored."

Cyris wondered why Arthir suddenly looked away, hiding his face behind his sleeve. He could hear Arthir clearing his throat and reminded him. "Let's go to the clinic."

"Oh...yeah." Cyris turned around to head to the infirmary with Arthir, eyes meeting the silent audience.

When Prince of Bestetia's eyes landed on them, they quickly scurry away. Cyris didn't really have a reaction, he was used to it. However Arthir had something to share with a frown.

"...You have to work on your relationship with them, Prince Cyris. As comrades who fight together in the battlefield, it's important to have trust."

"Huh?" Cyris looked annoyed. "Our relationship is already good. What is there to improve? I order, they follow."

Arthir quietly facepalms and shakes his head. Cyris looked at him innocently, remaining silent to urge Arthir to continue and explain. Arthir faces him and crosses his arms. "Your highness, most of your men follow you out of fear, not out of respect. Do you think that kind of relationship is good?"