"Your Majesty, what are your intentions regarding that prince?"
Seungcheol's idle tapping ceases as he gazes up from his throne at his courthouse, where Junhui and Wonwoo stand before him—one to discuss the welfare of the empire, the other the welfare of the emperor.
"What do you mean?" Seungcheol inquires, leaning back regally on his throne and fixing his gaze upon Junhui, who clicks his tongue in annoyance.
"I mean, precisely what are your plans for Prince Jeonghan? Will you subject him to torture and imprisonment in the dungeon? Or do you intend to employ him as a courtesan?" Junhui's inquiry deepens as he maintains his stare at the king. Seungcheol responds with a thoughtful hum before rising from his throne and descending to the floor.
A regal smirk graces Seungcheol's countenance as he firmly clasps Junhui's shoulder, the prince meeting the king's gaze with an equal measure of determination. "He holds an immense sense of self-worth, my dear Junhui. Bringing him to heel shall prove no simple task."
"I seek to shatter him, commencing with his pride and thereafter his dignity. Alas, he clings to the belief that his father will rescue him." Seungcheol's laughter reverberates through the chamber, silencing the others in his retinue.
"Yet, is it not unjust, Your Majesty? What transgression has Prince Jeonghan committed to warrant such treatment?" Wonwoo's inquiry hangs in the air as he fixes his gaze upon Seungcheol's retreating form.
"A ponderous question, indeed. I shall furnish an answer in due time," Seungcheol replies, his tone resonating with authority as he makes his exit from the courthouse.
"I shall adjourn to the training grounds," Seungcheol announces before vanishing beyond the threshold.
Wonwoo exhales wearily as he lowers himself onto the ornate throne, contemplating the weight of their sovereign's intentions.
"At times, I find myself confounded. Does His Majesty believe breaking Prince Jeonghan to be a facile endeavor? The endeavor may prove far more arduous than anticipated," Wonwoo muses, prompting Junhui to join him as they depart the august halls of the courthouse.
With each deliberate step, Seungcheol's gait weighs heavy as he approaches the threshold of the training combat chamber. The sentinel, a steadfast guardian of tradition, ceremoniously swings open the colossal metal gates, granting passage into the sanctum where warriors hone their skills.
As Seungcheol crosses the threshold, the midday sun bathes the field in a blinding brilliance, its unforgiving rays casting a radiant glow upon the expanse of the training grounds. Yet, beneath its scorching gaze, the air shimmers with an oppressive heat, making the prospect of practice seem an insurmountable challenge without the respite of shade.
Undeterred by the harshness of the elements, Seungcheol stands tall amidst the sun-drenched arena, a beacon of resolve and fortitude. For it is here, amidst the crucible of adversity, that true warriors are forged, their spirits tempered by the relentless trials of combat and the unyielding heat of the sun.
"Hail to the king!" The resounding chant erupted from the assembled throng of students, each one eager to prove their mettle and secure a coveted position within the illustrious ranks of the Sel Empire's soldiers.
With heads bowed in reverence, they paid homage to Seungcheol, the monarch whose very presence commanded respect and admiration. Pride swelled within him as he beheld the dedication and fervor with which they pursued their training, each movement a testament to their unwavering commitment.
"Very well," Seungcheol declared, his voice resonating with authority as he shed the confines of his regal attire, the flimsy robes falling away to be gathered by his attentive guard. With a deliberate gesture, he divested himself of each layer until he stood resplendent in nothing but his trousers and a waist belt, the weight of his sword secured at his side.
"Since you have diligently honed your skills over the past months, it is time to put that practice to the test," Seungcheol proclaimed, his gaze unwavering as he prepared to lead by example, ready to demonstrate the prowess and dedication expected of those who would serve the empire with honor and valor.
With a graceful motion, Seungcheol drew his gleaming blade from its scabbard, the metal shimmering in the sunlight like a beacon of authority. The assembled students watched in awe as their king, a paragon of martial prowess, stood before them, poised and ready for the challenge ahead.
"Today, you shall face me in combat," Seungcheol's proclamation echoed with regal authority, commanding the undivided attention of the eager throng gathered before him. "Show me the fruits of your labor, and prove yourselves worthy of the honor bestowed upon you."
"Yes, Your Majesty!" The fervent chants rose in unison as every student formed a disciplined line, their anticipation palpable as they awaited their turn to test their skills against the sovereign.
The practice commenced with Seungcheol engaging the most adept among them, his blade dancing with practiced grace as it met the swift strikes of his opponents. Despite his formidable prowess, Seungcheol tempered his blows, mindful of the delicate balance between mentorship and challenge. With each turn and twist, he navigated the fray with a deft finesse, holding back the tempest of his own martial prowess to afford his students a fair chance.
Beads of sweat cascaded like glistening pearls down Seungcheol's noble visage and chest, testament to the intensity of the duel. Every maneuver, every parry, was executed with unwavering resolve, for today's trials held the weight of destiny itself. With a resolute breath, Seungcheol pressed onward, confronting each new challenger with unwavering determination.
The resounding clash of steel reverberated through the training grounds as Seungcheol's blade sundered his opponent's with a single decisive strike, leaving the defeated combatant kneeling in surrender. Steadfast and undeterred, Seungcheol stood tall amidst the aftermath of the duel, a beacon of martial prowess and unyielding resolve.
"Is this the legacy of Warrior Lee?" Seungcheol's voice resonated with a mixture of pride and admonition as he drove his sword into the earth, its steel ringing out in solemn proclamation. With a penetrating gaze, he surveyed the assembly, his expectation clear: that they rise to the challenge set before them, and honor the teachings of their esteemed mentor with every ounce of their being.
The grandiose doors of the training chamber swung open once more, heralding the entrance of unexpected visitors. Seungcheol, his figure bathed in the golden sunlight filtering through the chamber's windows, turned with an expression of mild annoyance clouding his regal features. Despite the radiance surrounding him, a flicker of surprise danced across his countenance as his gaze fell upon the unexpected arrivals.
"My rose, what brings you to this domain?" Seungcheol's voice, a blend of curiosity and reproach, cut through the air as he reached for a nearby towel to wipe away the sheen of sweat adorning his toned physique. With each step, he closed the distance between himself and Jeonghan, the atmosphere crackling with tension and unspoken words.
"I cautioned him that your presence here would be met with disapproval, but he persisted," Jisoo interjected, his voice tinged with apprehension as he attempted to dissuade Jeonghan from further advancing. However, Seungcheol paid little heed to his brother's words, his focus entirely fixated on the captivating figure of Jeonghan.
"Could it be that you missed me so ardently, my dear rose?" Seungcheol's lips curled into a playful smirk as he extended his hand in a gesture of mock affection, only to have it swatted away by Jeonghan's determined rebuttal.
"Miss you? Such notions are mere folly. I simply wished to observe your... performance," Jeonghan's retort was laced with a sharpness that mirrored the intensity of his gaze, casting a shadow over the jovial atmosphere.
"Ah, but deep down, you derived satisfaction from witnessing my prowess, did you not?" Seungcheol's tone carried a hint of amusement as he teased Jeonghan, his eyes sparkling with mischief.
"Satisfaction? I found none in witnessing your manipulation of these students, lowering yourself to their level," Jeonghan's words, like daggers, pierced through the air, cutting through the facade of levity and exposing the underlying tension between them.
"Backstabbing runs in your blood, does it not?" Seungcheol's grip tightened around Jeonghan's jaw, a chilling smile twisting his lips as he leaned in closer, their faces mere inches apart, locked in a battle of wills.
"Perhaps. Then why not face someone of equal standing? I extend to you the challenge, my precious rose," Seungcheol's proposition hung in the air, laden with the weight of their unresolved conflict, his touch gentle as he tucked a stray tendril of Jeonghan's hair behind his ear.
"I accept your challenge," Jeonghan's response was resolute, his defiance burning bright in his gaze as he pushed Seungcheol's hand away, shedding his outer robe with determined resolve, ready to confront his adversary head-on.
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-Vaish
What do you think of the story untill now? Are the long chapters boring?