Soldier King Poet Test Novels & Stories

And a single moment that did not belong among them. Eyes meeting mine. Unmoving. Unafraid. My fingers tighten slightly at my side. Barely noticeable. Barely controlled. “What is her name?” I ask. This time, I ask. The soldier lifts his head just enough to answer. “Kiana, my king.” The name settles into silence. Different from the others. Unnecessary. And yet… remembered. A pause follows. Too long to be meaningless. Too heavy to ignore. Then the soldier speaks again.

"My king...my king...rise, my king." William struggled to open his eyes; his vision was blurry, and his senses were in disarray. "Where am I?" he asked the fully-kitted Werewolf soldier above him. "We are on the battlefield, my king," the soldier replied. William was confused as to why the soldier kept referring to him as a king, but he had more pressing questions. "Battlefield? Why? Who are we fighting against?" he asked, his confusion evident.

The soldiers who lined up behind him also bowed to the king who was present at the headquarters to meet the prospective soldiers who had been selected to attend training for one year before serving the king. One of the prospective soldiers who passed the final test was Owen. Seeing his best friend has come, makes Owen very excited even though his situation is not quite favorable because most of his colleagues doubt his abilities. Owen is considered lucky because he can pass the test, because he is friends with Prince Nathan. After the welcoming ceremony, the king's entourage and military leaders entered a special room for an important meeting. Nathania who is usually reluctant to get involve

Fane said with open hands, “Tell me honestly, did this guy force you into this? If that’s the case, I’ll kill him for you!” “Young man, are you joking? You’re just a normal soldier, how dare you think about killing a King of War? I’ve seen many dumb people but I’ve never seen someone as dumb as you!” King of War Sutherland laughed. He thought to himself that this young man in front of him was a fearless dumbass. The difference between a soldier and a King of War was huge, they were not at the same level. “I…” Blake looked at Fane but still chose to stay silent.

"If we were to fight a three day battle, is this how you all will drop dead?" "No, my king!" A soldier shouted. Calhoun turned too fast to his back and a sword whooshed past him. He chuckled. How he loved being tested by the wind to keep on his toes.

They mean to enter undetected, making a grand entrance at the ceremony itself, running George’s plans in the most dramatic of fashions. I worry for them, for Caleb and for Tristan, while also wishing I could be there to see the shock on George’s face. The King is only gone fifteen minutes when another soldier bursts through the entrance of the warehouse, panting so hard, he looks like he might keel over. “Where is the king?” the soldier asks, looking around. “I have a message.” “Rest yourself, son,” says one of the older woman non-combatants. “Sit down before you fall down.”

Comfortable chairs sat beside a roaring fireplace. The room felt untouched by time. I moved toward my favorite reading corner. Then stopped. A familiar figure sat beside the window. Silas. Of course. The future king was already awake. A stack of documents rested beside him. Several maps covered the table. Political reports. Military briefings. Kingdom business. Yet somehow he still looked calm. Like the weight of an entire nation wasn't sitting on his shoulders. His silver eyes lifted from the papers. The moment he saw me, his expression softened.

“What is this situation? Hahaha, for me the sole reason I became King was you.” Her eyes widened in disbelief and he continued inching his face closer to her until he was so close she could feel his breath on her face. He grabbed hold of her arms, shaking her. “If you leave me, what do you suppose I do?” “Your joke is going too far…” she whimpered. Placing his forehead on hers, he closed his eyes, inhaling deeply. “You must believe me, even if no one else does,” letting out a sigh and continued. “I am a man who became King for you were the King’s flower.”

Vibrant armor now dulled by the stains of spilled blood, each fallen soldier testified to the price paid in loyalty and duty. Melina's hands trembled as she turned to the king, fear etched upon her face like an indelible scar. Her voice quivered as she spoke, the weight of her distress evident in every word. "Your Majesty... who could have perpetrated such a vile deed? Our soldiers, our brave men... how did this tragedy befall us? Could it be the work of the rogue wolves?"

Today they would all be assessors as well as witnesses to the appointment of the new Commander candidate. "Fricker! Come forward to the centre of the field. First, you will have a wrestling match with one of the trained common soldiers. If you fail the first stage, you will not be able to continue to the next stage of the test." Brockley got ready, jumping up and down while clenching his fists. He punched the air in front of him. Victory was a must if he wanted his plans to go smoothly. A black, shirtless soldier came forward. He watched Brockley with a serious look. That soldier was the strongest among tens of thousands of others when it came to wrestling. He was quite famous within the mil