The morning sun spilled molten gold across the Kaizer training grounds, casting long shadows over the rows of combat dummies, weapon racks, and the three figures standing at the center of the field.
Joshua, shirtless and still slick with sweat from warm-ups, gripped a training sword tightly. His ears twitched slightly at the sound of boots crunching gravel behind him.
"Let's go again," said Captain Percival, his commanding tone slicing through the air like a blade. He stood a few meters away, arms crossed, eyes hawk-sharp as always. "This time, three-point sparring. Everyone for themselves. No holding back."
Jack and Raphael took their positions, circling around Joshua. Jack spun his sword in his hand with casual ease, his red eyes already narrow with mistrust. Raphael, always calm and composed, held his blade like a holy relic, polished, perfect, and ready to strike.
Joshua looked between them, tense. The tension from the previous week still lingered. Jack still hated him for letting James Die. Raphael kept his distance ever since James died and Joshua had lost control. Neither of them said it aloud, but they didn't see him as a comrade. They saw him as a loaded weapon.
"Begin!" Percival shouted.
Jack lunged first, fast and low. Joshua parried, sparks flying as their swords met. The clash of steel echoed across the courtyard.
"You still think you belong here ?" Jack sneered, pressing close, trying to overwhelm with speed.
Joshua shoved him back with a snarl. "Yes, I am a Knight ."
Before Jack could retort, Raphael came from the side with a sweeping horizontal slash. Joshua twisted away, letting the blade graze the edge of his arm.
"Watch your side, monster," Raphael muttered, golden eyes narrowing.
"You didn't say that when I saved your holy ass weeks ago from Zain" Joshua spat, spinning around to deliver a vicious overhead swing at Raphael, who blocked it with both arms, the blow sending him stumbling back.
The fight intensified. Metal rang against metal, feet kicked up dust, sweat beaded and dripped. Jack and Raphael, without a word, started syncing their attacks, flanking Joshua like wolves. Jack swung high, Raphael went low.
Joshua ducked under one strike, deflected the other, but he was being pushed harder and harder. His breathing turned rough. His eyes, once a soft brown, began to pulse an unnatural green.
"Two against one?" Joshua snarled. "Figures."
"You're unstable!" Raphael shouted, thrusting forward.
"You'll turn on us the moment your mood shifts," Jack added, swinging his blade down with deadly intent.
Joshua's parry was brutal, his strength cracking Jack's sword clean in half. "You want unstable?" he growled. His glowing eyes flashed bright green, and he charged.
He struck Raphael's blade so hard, it sent shockwaves through his arms. He kicked Jack in the chest, sending him tumbling backward into the dirt. His strikes turned savage, no longer controlled training blows but real attempts to wound.
Raphael's eyes glowed a brilliant gold, holy energy surging through him as he yelled, "Back down!"
Jack growled, red eyes igniting like coals, his hands trembling with rage. "He's not a knight, he's a beast!"
Both lunged at Joshua with real intent to kill.
That's when...
CRACK!
A slash from Percival's giant great sword exploded in the center of the battlefield, throwing all three of them off balance.
"ENOUGH!" Percival roared, stepping into the ring, his presence stopping the chaos like a divine force.
Joshua's chest rose and fell rapidly, muscles taut, glowing eyes still burning. He was shaking, rage boiling beneath his skin.
"They don't see me!" he shouted, glaring at them all. "They don't see a person, they see a monster with a sword!"
"Joshua..." Raphael began.
"Shut up!" Joshua snapped. "You say you're holy, but you're no better than the people who called me a mutt in the slums! And you, Jack James death wasn't only my fault, you also chose to go ahead with the plan. Get over it!"
"You're not stable," Jack growled. "You'll get someone else killed."
"Then don't fight next to me!" Joshua yelled. "You all act like I'm some ticking bomb. Maybe I am! But at least I never stabbed a friend in the back."
He dropped his sword and stormed off the training grounds. The others watched him go, silent.
At the entrance of the Noble House of Kaizer...
Eric stood outside, arms crossed, wearing a lavish, lace-trimmed purple vest over his usual black trousers. His face had makeup, not much, just enough to shine and his lips were painted wine-red. For once, he wasn't wearing a cloak to hide.
Joshua paused, blinking at him.
"Well," Joshua said with a smirk. "If it isn't the noble peacock. Forgot your invisibility cloak today?"
Eric raised an eyebrow and struck a dramatic pose. "Darling, if they're going to whisper, at least give them something pretty to whisper about."
"Remind me to never fight you in a beauty contest," Joshua muttered as they entered the corridors together.
From the training yard, Jack scoffed. "Of course they're friends. Psycho and… psycho in lipstick."
Raphael shook his head. "Perfect match. They belong in a padded tower."
Inside the halls...
As they walked through the noble corridors, the whispers came like needles.
"There goes the freak and the brute."
"Is he wearing lipstick again?"
"That's the beast Queen Juliet warned us about."
"Ugh, the monster and the witch-boy."
Eric kept his chin high, but his smile faded.
Joshua noticed.
"Hey," he said, nudging him with an elbow. "Remember that one time you set fire to your own hair trying to make a potion?"
Eric blinked. "Which time?"
"The time you screamed and blamed the gods for designing you with flammable fabulousness."
Eric snorted.
"And you ran out the lab yelling, 'I am a phoenix, reborn in glamour!'"
Eric burst into laughter.
"And you tried to kiss me while your eyebrows were still smoldering."
"That was an accident." Eric added it was a accident.
"That was arson and Sexual assault." Joshua added.
Their shared laughter echoed off the stone walls, cutting through the whispers like a blade. Heads turned but now some of the gazes were confused. One or two even looked… curious.
They kept walking, shoulders brushing, still grinning, two misfits who didn't fit the mold, but fit just fine together.
As Joshua and Eric strolled deeper into the Noble House, the echo of laughter still lingering, Joshua suddenly stopped near the central corridor window overlooking the garden.
"I still need more training," he said, almost to himself.
Eric blinked. "You just got nearly killed by two golden boys and had an emotional breakdown. You want to go for round two?"
Joshua cracked his knuckles. "No swords this time. Just fists. I need to feel like I'm in control again."
Below in the garden, Rowdy Kaizer strolled lazily down the path, shirt loose, arms crossed behind his head, walking between Sam, who was rambling animatedly about werewolf blood types and Emelia, who was quietly sipping tea and nodding along.
Joshua grinned. "Perfect."
In the Garden
"Yo! Rowdy!" Joshua called, jogging down the stairs toward the lush training patch near the garden tables.
Rowdy turned. "Hm?"
"Wanna spar?"
Rowdy smirked. "You tryna kill me like you almost did the church boy?"
Joshua rolled his eyes. "No swords. Just boxing. I saw you scrap before. You fight like an angry deer."
Emelia laughed behind her cup. "He really does."
"Rude," Rowdy muttered, then shrugged. "Alright, I'm game. But don't cry if I knock you on your tail."
As the two stepped into the soft grass clearing, Eric, Sam, and Emelia sat down around the white marble garden table covered with snacks, sweets, and a warm teapot. Butterflies drifted lazily through the morning light. The contrast to the battle about to start was almost comedic.
Round One
Joshua lifted his fists, elbows tight, feet shifting lightly.
"Rule one," he said. "Always guard your chin."
Rowdy mimicked him, awkwardly.
"No, that's… you're guarding your collarbone, man."
Sam snorted tea through his nose.
"It wasn't even that funny..." Rowdy called over his shoulder.
Joshua chuckled. "Alright, come at me. One-two combo. Go."
Rowdy threw a wide jab, Joshua parried. The follow-up cross was sloppy. Joshua sidestepped and tapped his forehead with two fingers.
"Dead," he said. "You'd be out."
Rowdy blinked. "Show me again."
They practiced a few rounds. Jab. Cross. Hook. Step back. Slip.
Rowdy got better, sharper. Sweat poured down both of them. Then, Joshua raised his eyebrows. "Ready to try for real?"
Rowdy cracked his knuckles. "Let's go, champ."
The Real Sparring Begins
They circled. Rowdy swung first, a wild right hook. Joshua ducked, drove a jab into Rowdy's ribs. Rowdy staggered, but came back with a solid uppercut that grazed Joshua's chin.
"Ow," Joshua muttered. "That was good."
"Told you I ain't just stylish hair and bad jokes," Rowdy replied.
They clashed again. Punch for punch. Rowdy's hits had raw power, wild but heavy. Joshua's strikes were precise, efficient, each one aimed to teach as much as sting. The sound of knuckles on skin echoed across the courtyard.
At the garden table, Sam watched with shining eyes. "He's teaching him like a big brother."
Emelia nodded. "I haven't seen Rowdy this focused since he lost a bet to Lancelot and had to read an entire book."
Eric sipped his tea dramatically. "I give this match... an 8 out of 10. Graceful aggression. No unnecessary shirt removals yet, so minus two."
Sam chuckled. "You're weird."
"You're adorable," Eric shot back.
Emelia leaned forward. "How do you two know Joshua anyway?"
Eric's eyes softened. "He's the only person who ever looked me in the eyes and didn't flinch."
Sam added, "He saved my Prince James when no one else wanted to."
Emelia smiled. "Then I'm glad he's finally found people who see him."
The three of them clinked their teacups in a toast.
"To the Monster and the Misfit," Eric said proudly.
Meanwhile, Upstairs – Lancelot and Merlin's Room
The windows were open, sunlight pouring in like honey across silk sheets. Merlin lay sprawled beneath golden covers, her purple hair tangled in Lancelot's fingers.
He leaned over her, shirtless, trailing kisses down her collarbone.
"You're glowing," he whispered against her skin.
Merlin chuckled. "That's probably your fault."
Their lips met, slow and hungry. Every movement was deliberate, passionate, an echo of the love that had grown past war and blood and fear.
"You still want this?" he asked gently.
"I want you," she answered, pulling him closer.
And in that quiet, sun-drenched room, their bodies intertwined again, not out of desire alone, but because their souls refused to let go of each other.
Back in the garden, Joshua and Rowdy ended their match with a tired grin and a handshake.
"Thanks," Rowdy said, chest heaving. "That felt... real."
Joshua nodded. "Yeah. You're not bad. Bit wild. But you got heart."
From the table, Eric clapped dramatically. "Bravo, gentlemen! I haven't seen such sweaty masculinity since... last Tuesday."
They all laughed.
For once, the world felt a little softer. Not perfect. Not safe. But real.
And real was good enough.