005 Ten Years Old

Five years later,

In the training grounds of the Red Keep, against the raging dust and the distant sounds of swords clashing against each other, stood two people: one, a man with long blonde hair and shining green eyes.

His chest was wide open while his shredded muscles tensed with the explosive power held within.

"Are you ready?" the man asked, his voice still as a lake, an example of impeccable discipline.

"Yes, Uncle." The other person said; though two heads shorter, he matched his uncle's intensity.

He, like the man, had long blonde hair reaching his shoulders, his skin smooth with no blemishes. His piercing green eyes met the man's gaze.

He only wore pants like the man, his lean and sturdy muscles glistening under the sunlight.

They both stared at each other; none had any doubts about their course of action.

The boy tensed his calves, slightly lowering his posture.

BOOM

With blistering speed reaching the human limits, the boy dashed toward the man.

The man's green eyes faltered, a sense of pride swelling up in his chest as he watched the boy lift his fist, intending to punch him in the face.

But the man, expert in combat, one of the finest in the realm, cannot be defeated by just a punch, can he?

Lifting his left hand, he parried the punch while his right hand traveled to his nephew's gut.

The boy's eyes widened in surprise, and he hurried to block the punch—but he was too late.

BANG

The boy's eyes bulged while his face turned red.

"Ack!"

He groaned in pain, his steps faltering as he stepped backward.

The boy clutched his stomach, the stinging pain and the ache of his muscles sending shivers down his spine.

'Fuck! That hurts!!' The boy grunted in pain and annoyance.

The distant clash of swords stopped as the air stayed still; the knights in training and practice halted their training.

The air lingered with dust as the knights watched their prince, wanting to know his next step. Would he continue the spar? Or would he stop here?

Joffrey chuckled strainedly, easing his pain and surprising the crowd. His face twitched with pain as he stood up and looked at his uncle, Jaime; his gaze was fiercer than before.

Jaime felt a rush of pride as he looked at Joffrey; he was his pride; he was his son!

"Good! But remember, nephew. You have to observe your opponent's strength and act accordingly." He advised sincerely.

Joffrey nodded his head and raised his arms again, and dashed toward his uncle, but this time his eyes stayed observant of his uncle's movements.

BANG

And just like that, under the astonished gazes of the knights, Joffrey trained in hand-to-hand combat with his uncle Jaime.

When he asked his uncle to train him in the sword five years ago, Jaime didn't agree.

He told him that his body is still not ready to handle a sword, and he has to do physical exercises until he is nine.

Jaime only started teaching him hand-to-hand combat six months ago; he told him that he would need it before training in the sword, as it would make it easier.

"Haaah haaah!" Joffrey's chest heaved up and down as he ended the session, bruises covering his body as he sat on the ground.

The knights exchanged glances, their image of the prince elevated further.

They could still remember the day when Joffrey walked into the training ground and started running around.

They were curious at first; many thought the prince would not train for long and would go back to his mother's tits. But they were shocked when he persisted.

"The gods have blessed the realm!" one of the knights whispered as he looked at Joffrey in awe.

The air was filled with a sense of awe and pride as the crowd of knights praised their future king.

"Ahh! What have you done to my favorite nephew!?" A voice echoed through the training room as a short man ran through the training grounds toward Joffrey.

Reaching him, he placed his hand upon his shoulder while observing the bruises on Joffrey's body.

"Tsk tsk, don't worry, dear nephew. Once you become king, we can have his head on a spike!" He said, patting his nephew's shoulders while looking at Jaime with a playful smirk.

SNORT

Jaime snorted at Tyrion's words and asked, "What are you doing here, brother? Last I checked, there are no whores in the training grounds."

"Ah! I came here to collect my payment," Tyrion answered, his eyes shining with greed as he looked back at Joffrey.

"Payment?" Jaime asked as he frowned in confusion.

"Yes, payment." The Imp nodded, and with a sly smile on his face, he said, "My nephew here promised me ten barrels of wine a month for aiding him in his studies."

Tapping Joffrey's shoulders, "My payment!" he demanded.

Joffrey stood up while dusting his pants, and with a snicker on his face, he asked, "What payment, uncle? I have already paid you!"

"What? When?" Tyrion asked with wide eyes, a hint of suspicion blooming on his face as he squinted at his nephew.

With a grin, Joffrey replied, "Remember the day when you ruined a whorehouse by getting too drunk and demanding all the women? Who do you think paid for it?"

"No! That was not you!" Tyrion exclaimed as he turned toward his brother and pointed at him. "My brother paid for it!"

Joffrey's grin widened as he saw the shocked face of his dwarf uncle. Crouching down to Tyrion's level, he whispered, "And who do you think paid him?"

Tyrion's body trembled as he understood his nephew's schemes; a hint of acknowledgment formed in his mind toward him.

When he asked his brother Jaime for money, Jaime, instead of using the Lannister money, borrowed from Joffrey and paid him, making him owe a debt to the crown, all under the instruction of Joffrey, of course.

Before Tyrion could even muster up a comeback, Joffrey added, "And for using the crown's coin and defaulting on the payment to the crown, your payment will be suspended indefinitely, and you are expected to work for the crown for the next five years without payment."

Joffrey then walked away from his uncle, who was still in a state of shock.

"N-NO! You cannot do this!" Tyrion mumbled, working without payment. His entire body trembled at the thought.

Turning toward his nephew, who was leaving the training grounds, he said, "Nephew, you cannot do this to me! A Lannister always pays his debts!"

Joffrey smirked as he turned around, "Then it's a good thing that I am a Baratheon, Uncle!"

With that, he left the ground, leaving a devastated Imp behind.