"Did you hear? The lord recruited a group of minotaurs ten feet tall! The axes they carry are as tall as a man!"
"Hey! Did you know? Our lord is touring the castle with a group of minotaurs, and the axes in their hands are ten feet long!"
"Gods above! Guess what I heard? A group of super-minotaurs with arms ten feet long have tied our lord to their axes!"
In Frostcrest's training yard, a fully-recovered Thorne was meticulously wiping down his longsword. A sword, he often thought, was like a woman; if you didn't maintain her, she would grow dull, losing the brilliant luster she had when you first met. He had maintained this habit of oiling and caring for his equipment daily for decades, and it had saved his life on the battlefield more than once.
Suddenly, a castle guard came stumbling and crawling towards him, his face a mask of pure panic.
"It's terrible! Lord Thorne!" he shrieked. "The lord has been taken hostage by a group of minotaurs as tall as arrow towers! They've cut off the lord's cock and hung it on an axe!"
"What?!"
Thorne flinched so violently that the knightly sword nearly slipped from his grasp and onto his foot. "Is that true?"
"That's… that's what they're saying over in the castle bailey. I don't know the specifics," the guard stammered, his expression hesitant.
Thorne's eyes narrowed as he stared at the guard. He wasn't a witless fool. He quickly understood. Frostcrest was large, but not so large that an invasion of arrow-tower-sized monsters would go completely unnoticed. Are we invisible? Lord Alistair and I, two Earth Knights?
He calmed himself. There had to be a misunderstanding. The truth could not possibly be as absurd as what this guard was claiming.
"Take me there!" Thorne barked.
"Huh?"
"Are you deaf?! If something has truly happened to the lord, do you think you'll be spared? Lead the way, now!" Thorne punctuated the order with a swift kick to the guard's rear. The man scrambled up from the ground and obediently led Thorne towards the castle bailey at a run.
In the castle's rear garden, a crowd of curious guards had gathered around the minotaur warriors. To them, the minotaurs were simply too massive and intimidating. Even knowing they were allies, most of the guards kept a fearful distance.
A few, however, thought differently—especially Alistair's personal knights. In their eyes, fighting alongside such powerful teammates would greatly increase their own chances of survival on the battlefield. They quickly struck up a boisterous conversation with the minotaurs.
"Hey! Big guy! Can I feel your bicep? It looks… well, explosive!"
"Of course, human friend! You have a good eye! I am the strongest minotaur in my clan!"
"Maybe sometime we can have a contest to see who can piss farther!"
"Hahaha…"
In stark contrast to the joyful atmosphere over there, Alistair was furiously berating his newly appointed Captain of the Guard, Goodwin.
Goodwin stood before Alistair with his head bowed, staring at his own feet, beads of sweat rolling down his forehead. As captain, he knew he was in trouble the moment he'd heard the wild rumors spreading through the ranks. As expected, before he could shut his subordinates' mouths, the lord himself had found him and was now giving him a thorough dressing-down.
"On the way here, I've already heard no less than ten different versions of the story! Right now, my cock has apparently been chopped into three pieces. By the time I make it to the training yard, will I have been boiled into soup and eaten? Hmm?"
"This is your failure to discipline your men. Your punishment is to wash all of their underwear and socks for one month. Do you have any objections?"
Goodwin's face turned green. Those guards under his command trained until they were drenched in sweat every day. They wore their socks and underwear for six days straight—until they were crusted stiff—before finally washing them on their day off. He didn't need to imagine the eye-watering stench. And worst of all, there were more than thirty of them!
But could he refuse his lord's command? He could not.
Wearing a funeral face, Goodwin nodded. "At your command, my Lord. I accept the punishment."
The surrounding guards let out a cheer. They wouldn't have to wash their stinking socks and underwear for a month! They failed to notice the iron-clad, cruel expression that had settled on their captain's face. What new hells Goodwin would put those guards through in training would have to be a story for another day, because Thorne had just arrived.
When he saw Alistair standing unharmed in the center of the crowd, he let out a sigh of relief, even though he had been sure the lord was fine. His gaze then shifted to the group of minotaurs who were happily chatting with the guards.
"Ah, Thorne! You're just in time. Let me introduce you to our new comrades." Alistair, standing beside Brakar Ironhorn, waved him over. "This is Brakar Ironhorn, a powerful minotaur chieftain. These are his warriors. They have pledged to follow me and fight for Frostfell."
Alistair then gestured to Thorne. "Brakar, this is Thorne, my personal guard and a veteran Earth Knight. I'm sure you two will get along splendidly."
Thorne looked at the majestic minotaur chieftain with undisguised admiration. "Welcome to Frostfell. It is an honor to fight alongside you." In his heart, Thorne was more curious as to where his lord had managed to recruit such powerful warriors and bring them into Frostcrest without anyone, even himself, noticing.
The lord truly grows more unfathomable by the day, he thought, his respect for Alistair reaching a new peak.
"Thank you, mighty warrior! You may always trust your back to the minotaurs of the Ironhorn clan!" Brakar responded with equal politeness. Behind him, the other minotaurs let out a unified roar of HOOAH!
He looked down at Thorne, his eyes filled with respect and fighting spirit. From this old knight who barely reached his waist, Brakar could sense astonishing power.
After settling the minotaurs, Alistair returned to the castle proper. He hadn't forgotten that Abby was still unconscious in his room.
He had just pushed open his door when he found that she was already awake and scrambling frantically to get out of bed. Hearing the door, her whole body flinched like a startled squirrel, and she instinctively tried to shrink away. But when she saw it was Alistair, a look of joy flashed across her face, only to be immediately replaced by panic.
"Master!"
Without even putting on her shoes, Abby stumbled across the room and threw herself into Alistair's arms. She clung to his arm, her face a mask of fear. "Master! There are monsters in the castle! Big, terrifying monsters! I only came up to their knees!"
"We have to run, Master! If we meet the monsters on the road, just throw Abby to them to eat, and you use the chance to escape!" she babbled, gesturing wildly and trying to pull him out of the room. Alistair simply pulled her back, wrapping her in a tight embrace.
He couldn't help but smile, his heart filled with a warmth and emotion that surprised him. Even in danger, she thought of him first. So many people spoke of loyalty, but would be the first to push you from behind when true danger appeared. This single moment told him everything he needed to know about his place in her heart.
He looked down at her red lips, a playful itch stirring in his own heart. He put on a fearsome expression. "I don't know about any monsters in the castle," he teased, "but I'm a monster right now, and I'm going to eat you up!"
Mmph—!
Abby froze, unable to speak, as Alistair wrapped an arm around her slender waist, lowered his head, and pressed his lips against hers.
She went limp in his embrace, her mind a complete blank. There was no struggle. A deep blush rose from her neck to her cheeks, her entire body flushing a faint pink. Her expression was dazed, her eyes wide and unfocused as she stared at him. Then, her slender arms instinctively wrapped around his neck.
She was willing.
Gradually, the initial awkwardness faded. She stood on her tiptoes, tilting her small face up to meet his kiss, her hands gripping him tighter and tighter, as if trying to melt her entire being into his.