Two weeks have passed since I have been knighted by King Guto and has been elevated to the pristine rank of Knight instead of a dirty outsider and unwanted vagabond.

Now I know that most people would probably think that being a knight and working in the employ of the king, specifically his only daughter and that your room is right next to hers, you would think that would be pretty swell. Working for the king's daughter would make most guys start to think naughty thoughts about how to get into her pants and find a way to get wed to royalty to live the easy life.

But for me, there is a catch...

Seeing how that I have 'abandoned' her and left her in Tazul's care, the king decided that instead of punishing me by breaking my legs for leaving her behind, he decided that instead, I will be cleansing this sin from my chest by working as Eraclea's retainer and to do whatever she needs to be done and to guard her with my life.

Now, normally I would have told him to fuck off and let me be, but seeing how I did leave his daughter behind with a guy that wanted to take his throne even though I worked hard to get back the Idol of Boreas and fought even harder to retrieve it back from the bastard who stole it. I could have kindly told him that I decline, but I thought against it because I don't think my ass would survive in prison, let alone medieval prison so I swallowed my pride, relented and gave in.

Now with that in agreement, and that my body has more or less recovered completely after my knighting ceremony, the king has requested that I learn how to properly fight in order to defend his precious daughter in the event the royal guards fall and that her life is in mortal peril. This meant that I was going to get my ass stomped all up and down the training yard by a four foot tall griffon with what should hopefully be a wooden sword all the while not getting my ass kicked so badly that I would have to spend even more time in the infirmary.

Another thing I was told was that I would also be taking lessons in regards to the griffon culture, proper mannerisms, griffon history, the arts, and also how to play a selection of instruments...

Well, I would have to do those but when I told the king that if I am going to be watching over his daughter and ensure she stays alive, how the hell is learning how to play an instrument or knowing which griffon made what painting or statue of is going to help her keep her blood and guts inside her body? He tried to talk me down on the matter and say that if I am going to be a proper knight in his employ that I am to do as I am told, my response however one can say is reckless and priceless all at the exact same time.

"Look, you and I both know that you don't truly need me here, you have all the guards you could ever need watching over your daughter, making sure she is safe from harm and from those that would use her for their own ends. You don't want me to watch her over like a common guard, no, you want me to watch over her cause you know that I am one of the few people out there that will outright refuse to follow orders when I need to and that I am willing to get my hands dirty while others wouldn't because it would stain their honor and pride."

"The only reason why you roped me into being a knight is that you know that I am pretty much your best bet in keeping your daughter safe from the nobles who see her as a juicy prize and also to keep her safe from anyone that will try to harm her. You know that your knights will always obey you and your family and keep their beaks shut while I will do what needs to be done regardless of orders and I will speak my mind whether you want to hear it or not."

"You wanted me here because you know that I can operate outside of your chain of command and do whatever that needs to be done to get the job done. If you don't like it then you shouldn't have made me a knight then, I will watch your daughter but I will do my job my way, not how you want it to get done."

The king was not pleased with what I said, but after a while he relented and gave in, admitting to me that while I am right, I am not to repeat what I just said and that any matter concerning his daughter, I am to do anything and everything to ensure that she lives, even if it means sacrificing someone's life to make sure hers continues.

And that is what brings us all to where we currently are.

The royal guards training yard.

Built on the cliffside where the royal castle is built upon, this area has numerous training dummies set up, some of them meant for target practice for those using bows while the rest were made for melee practice. A few rings were also built into the yard so those that want to spar have a proper place to do so, in all it looks pretty normal.

Sadly for me, I didn't get to enjoy it for long because I was busy getting beaten into the sand and dirt by a four-foot tall griffon hen wearing a leather jerkin and holding a fairly large wooden sword in her talons.

Picking myself up off the floor while rubbing my sore chest I glared down at the hen as she laughed at my discomfort and pain, I don't know which is worse though, the fact I am getting my ass handed to me on a silver platter or the fact that I am getting my ass kicked by a four-foot tall griffon.

Wiping the dust and dirt from my training uniform, (how they managed to these I will never know, nor will I ever want to know how they got my exact measurements for everything), the dull brown gamberson and equally dull brown pants will need to be repaired when this training session is over, this hen isn't going easy on me and I can already tell that I will be covered in bruises by the end of the day.

Wiping the dirt from my face I gripped my wooden sword tightly once more and charged towards my opponent with reckless abandon, which in turn resulted in me getting knocked on my ass once more.

Turns out even though I am taller and perhaps even stronger than the average griffon, but due to my lack of combat experience with anything remotely in the shape of a weapon besides a pocket knife and a bow. My instructor made it all the more apparent that my lack of skills is the reason why I am getting beaten by such a short stocky hen and also the reason why I was in the infirmary when Tazul nearly killed me.

"How in the world did you survive for this long Sir Knight? I was told that you were once a mercenary and yet you appear to be highly unskilled in even the most basic of fighting arts!" my instructor shouted at me as she twirled the wooden sword in her talons, her face is obviously unamused with my display and I must say that she has every right to be.

Getting back up I charged at my instructor, keeping the blade leveled until I raised it above my head for an overhead strike, but I was stopped when she sidestepped my attack and hit me in the gut with the flat of her sword, knocking the wind out of me and forcing me to my knees. Getting a gut check sucks, getting hit with a wooden sword hard enough to almost make me spew my breakfast is another matter entirely.

Before I even had a chance to stand up I got whacked in the back and I fell face first into the floor.

This. Sucks.

Rolling myself over to get back onto my feet, I swore under my breath and glared at my teacher, oh how much I already hate her but to speak the truth on the matter, she is right. The only reason I am still alive right is that the god/goddess that is looking out for me is making sure that I don't die (again) too soon so I could fulfill their orders and spread chaos and change the fate of the world to a much more chaotic nature.

I still don't know how I am supposed to be doing that but hey, at least they stopped me from dying the first time.

Grumbling some more I decided that instead of rushing in head first and hope for the best, I thought to actually employ some things I saw on tv.

Widening my stance and loosening my limbs I stood a fair distance away from my instructor who raised an eyebrow at me, obviously, she was unprepared for me to actually put in some effort into this training session. With my stance wider and my limbs much looser than they last were, which just so happened to be stiff.

Turns out by changing my stance and posture I managed to do better than last time by actually managing to hit my instructor in the side of the head with the flat edge of my wooden sword. Now in the real world, getting hit in the side of the head with a sword would have probably resulted in said head being lopped off and be rolling on the floor while spurting blood everywhere, but seeing how this was a practice session, all it did was make my instructor go even harder on me for actually landing a hit on her.

Smirking under her helmet I watched the hen stare at me with a calculated glare before grinning even wider. Launching herself at me full tilt, the instructor and I connected swords, the pieces of wood were scraping against one another and before I could try to push back against my smaller opponent, she took the initiative and used her wings to her advantage. With those wings of hers, I watched as she got the extra push that she needed to push me onto my back once more but this time she landed on top of me and has the tip of her practice sword pressed against my throat with a victorious grin plastered across her beak.

"Do you yield or shall I keep on hitting you till your all black and blue?"

Laying on the ground with my teacher on top of me I thought of what I could possibly do to get her off of me, but nothing came to mind until one errant thought raced across my brain.

'Why not just use our height to our advantage? She may have our upper half pinned down but not our legs.'

Briefly looking down I saw that yes, my legs were indeed free as they were obscured by my trainer's lower body. From where I was laying, I saw that yes, griffons do have nipples on their person but I should have seen this coming because they are part feline after all since the bottom half is the lion part of them.

With that image now filed away under 'Spank Bank' I returned to what I was planning on doing, which was getting my instructor off of me.

"Sorry ma'am, but today isn't going to be a victory for you," I said as I very slowly moved my right leg into position, angling it to be in line with her backside all the while keeping her attention fixated on me.

"Oh really? Well Sir Knight, I don't see any means of you getting out of this unless you are about to try begging." the hen said as she pressed the wooden point a bit harder on my throat, making it hurt ever so slightly but it was enough to tell me that if it was a real blade it would have punctured my throat and that I would have started to choke on my own blood.

"Nope, I play to win." And as soon as I said that I slammed my knee into the fattest part of her ass, pushing her off and over me as she let out a squawk of surprise as she went over my head and landed in a heap.

Tilting my head up to see her from behind I rolled over and got up, and just in time I caught an eyeful of what a griffon's naughty bits looked like and I must say, I am relieved that it isn't a bird's but disappointed that its a cat's, and I must say I don't think that I would fit in there unless she has been stretched out by a few dicks. On the plus side I got some more jerk material to add to the 'Spank Bank' vault, can never have too much for the wax-on wax-off hour.

The downside is that my instructor was looking right at me, blushing up a storm while shaking in anger that I was ogling her fun pieces like a drooling monkey before flying right at me, talons raised and screeching like a falcon.

Staring down a screeching pissed off eagle, I decided to wait for the perfect moment to do something about it, and that moment came when she was just a few seconds away from clawing my face. Moving to the side I watched as the enraged griffon miss me completely only to see her snap her wings out and change course, turning around almost instantly as she made for another attempt to beat the ever-loving shit out of me.

'Huh...forgot about that. Okay, new plan, seeing how that griffons are not only slighter faster than ponies running on land and they are much agiler in the air...crap. How the hell can I beat a predator that pretty much has the best of both an eagle and a lion? Throw meat and fish at it and hope for the best?'

Ducking under her swing I turned around in time to catch another glimpse of the forbidden fruit and I must say, I better get used to it because seeing how I haven't seen another human being in all of the time I have been here. The odds of finding another human, let alone said human being female is sitting on a lovely negative 100%.

Impossible to get a negative percentage? I doubt it since I somehow managed to reach it.

'Hmm, prideful, easily agitated when insulted...a temper to almost match a dragon.'

I can trick her, pull her in close before striking her down!

With that in mind I waited for my instructor to turn around, I watched her rise high into the sky before coming back down directly on top of me. Watching her come down on top of me I waited for her to get closer but instead, she opted to open up her wings, immediately killing her speed as she ground to a halt in the air above me, opening herself up.

Taking my wooden sword I raised it above my head and before she could let out a squawk I brought it down upon her head and with a loud *clunk* I watched my instructor tumble to the ground in a heap. Staring down at the unconscious hen that I totally just knocked out with ease and wasn't bobbing and weaving like a little puss, I saw that she was, for the most part, not that bad looking.

Now I know that I shouldn't be hitting on my teachers and instructors, but when your the only human on the planet and that said human hasn't had a quiet moment to bust that nut with the exception of before falling asleep or just after waking up to go eat. With that in mind I could only imagine what she must be like when she isn't screeching at me and wasn't trying to beat the ever-loving crap out of me, but that train of thought was shot down when Eraclea told me that she pretty much has always been a ballbuster for as long as she has been alive.

She is very harsh on all of the guards she trains and she is magnifying the harshness on me because she thinks that I am just like the nobles who are trying to marry the princess so they could rule the nation when her father dies.

Do I want to marry the griffon princess? Not really, no, she isn't even on my top five griffons to bone due to her being royalty, she doesn't see me like that, and also she is a total cunt waffle.

Looking down at the unconscious hen I poked her a few times with more sword just to make sure that she was still alive, and when I saw her chest moving ever so slightly I knew that she was still alive.

Wiping my brow with the back of my hand I put away my wooden sword by sheathing it in the leather loop that was affixed to my pants. Reaching down I picked up my instructor by her armpits and hoisted her up, placing her in my arms as I held her as if she were my bride, but I know and if she were awake at this moment she too would know that this would never happen in a million years.

As I walked into the royal castle and made my way towards the infirmary, I began to hum mostly to myself a jaunty tune that I heard in a movie a few times.

When I started my martial training to learn how to actually fight with a wide array of weapons, I kept getting my ass handed to me on a silver platter so often that I have memorized the path to the infirmary to the point where I can get there with my eyes closed.

Out of two weeks of getting beaten to a bloody pulp by someone smaller than me, I have only won two times.

The first time I won, I kicked her so hard in the asshole that I thought my shoe was going to get shoved up there but thank god it didn't. My reward for that victory was to get bashed upside the head with a shield than beaten to a pulp.

Shuffling the griffon in my arms as I had to readjust her due to my hands were steadily slipping due to how smooth her fur is, I really don't want my hands to be touching they shouldn't be touching and risk losing some fingers. I was about halfway towards the infirmary when my instructor started to squirm in my arms and before I could try to set her down and give her some space, my instructor opened her eyes only to see me holding her bridal-style.

The blush on her face was evidence enough of what she thought of the situation she found herself to be in.

The fist imprint that she left on my left cheek was also what she thought of the situation.

Never again will I carry my instructor to the infirmary whenever I kick her ass, she can nurse her injuries herself if this is the thanks I get for being nice.

---

"Alright boy, show me what you got." A gruff male griffon shouts as I line up my arrow with the stationary target and with a bit of a huff, I let loose the shaft, the arrow sailed through the air and with a weak sounding tak it hit its target near the center of the target.

Looking at where my arrow has landed, my archery instructor gave it a judging glance before returning his attention to me and gave me an approving smile on his beak.

"Very good, most of those that I teach how to use the bow seem to either pull too tightly on the string and snap it or don't pull on it enough and the arrow lands right at their paws. You on the other claw are very good at this, very good indeed. It is almost like that you have been trained in this art of war before." Scratching the back of my head I confirmed with him that yes, I have been trained to use this before.

It would seem that the Boyscouts has finally found its use after all. I just that I never have to ever put my First-Aid merit badge training to use, I don't think I can handle having to set someone's broken arm or leg in a splint. I can handle blood, I just can't handle someone else being in an enormous amount of pain.

Maybe it is just hearing them moaning and screaming in pain, or the possibility of me seeing their guts hanging out of their body when it shouldn't be falling out, but seeing someone in pain just makes me want to make it either stop for the better or to just end it for them.

"Seeing how you know the basics of archery and that you are learning proper swordsmanship from Ms. Harper, I can see that in due time you will be a formidable opponent that even the minotaurs and dragons will properly fear!" I looked at the archery instructor for a moment and wondered if he was on any kind of drugs because the only minotaur I have seen, he may have been weak from the onset of starvation and also being beaten to a bloody pulp, but I saw that he was a veritable wall of muscle and vitality. There was no way in hell I could beat him if he was in peak physical condition.

And as for being able to beat a dragon...

I am not the god damn dragonborn! There is no way in hell that I can beat one aside from maybe a hatchling, dragons are protected with their tough scales, strong hide, and that they are the picture definition of destruction. The sheer fact that they can breathe fire, fly, and eat meat is all the things I need to know to never fuck with one.

Ever.

"Sir, I doubt I will ever be able to go toe-to-toe with a minotaur let alone a freaking dragon! Both of those two things are way above my skill level to the point where it would just be a joke to them! Hell, I bet they would just mess with me during the fight before finally growing bored with my attempts to beat them before finally turning me into a pile of ash or chopped-up mincemeat." I said as I loaded another arrow and fired it at the target, scoring a bulls-eye.

Rolling his eyes at what I said he went back to saying that with enough practice I can easily beat two absurdly powerful mythical creatures.

Yeah, right, like that will ever happen.

Soon enough the day was done and that I was allowed to finally take a break from all of the training for the rest of the day, and god damn do I need a drink. Shuffling to my quarters I stopped to take my clothes off, give myself a half-assed bath (a wet wash rag and cleaned myself off) put on some clothes that were for the most part comfortable, and picked up Scrawny from his own training session, but this time his teacher is just that, a teacher.

You see, Scrawny, along with so many other diamond dogs from the warren he was from, are vastly uneducated and for the most part are well, stupid. Turns out that for diamond dogs the only ones who get educated are the ones that show signs of intelligence and the children that belong to the pack alpha.

When Scrawny told me that he was the runt of his litter from his family, he said that pretty much all diamond dogs are told the basics of fighting, to always obey the alpha, and to not trust other races for they are the reason why they are living like a bunch of criminals.

Swinging on by to the castle library I saw Scrawny muzzle-deep in a book, his teacher being none other than my charge, Princess Eraclea, who was for some reason taking delight in doing this job. I guess she is trying to educate/indoctrinate Scrawny into being something that all diamond dogs should strive to become.

Knocking twice on the bookshelf next to the griffon princess I watched with a grin as she rapidly turned her head to face me and I must say, she looks kinda cute with glasses on.

I must never let anyone ever find out that I thought that she looks cute with those glasses on. She will probably rip my dick off and then proceed to beat me to death with it.

Taking off her glasses, the griffon princess placed them upon the table before telling Scrawny that they are done for today and that they will continue with his education tomorrow. Getting up from his seat I watched my dog friend pitter-patter over to me before we disembarked ourselves from the library and went to the closets bar that I could find.

Turns out there wasn't a bar near the castle, instead, it was more like a type of quiet parlor where the wealthy and nobility would gather and socialize and drink tea. I worked hard today, I smell of sweat and BO, I need cheap liquor and equally cheap nibbles to lift my spirits before they get crushed into the brickwork tomorrow morning by my combat instructor yet again.

Eventually, we found ourselves a tavern to relax in. We had to go down to the outer district to find one and I must say that this tavern really feels homely.

Walking to the front counter I tapped my knuckles on the wooden top and a barmaid came from the far side of the bar and came my way.

Something I noticed about griffons is that other than their differing colorations in their feathers, eye-color, fur and other little bits that make them different, but another thing that separates them from one another is that their bird features are also based on other bird species. The barmaid standing in front of me, she has owl-features, mainly the owl-like head and fluffy feathers, but for the most part, she looks cuddly and adorable.

Knowing what I wanted as I have been in here a few times during the two weeks of training to drink away the pain of the severe cases of ass-beating I went through, this hen has been here to make sure the pain has been dulled with cheap beer and salty pretzels.

Noticing my slightly asswhooped expression and griffon-fist dent on my cheek, the barmaid could only shake her head, go to the back of the tavern to return with a small burlap sack that has been chilled and placed it before me.

"Long day at the castle?" the barmaid asked as she placed the chilled sack on the table just as I sort of slammed my head into the table, crushing some ice in the process but oh man does it feel good on my aching head.

"You have no idea." I muttered out as I let myself relax and go boneless, letting all of the stress and pain of the day go as I drift off to relaxation and in a few moments the barmaid came back with a mug full of ale, something to help me ease the pain even further.

And so this is my life at the moment, getting beaten up by griffons half my size, learning how to fight with medieval weapons and at the end of the day getting mildly drunk with Scrawny to ease the pain. There is no way that something or someone can fuck this all up for me.

Next Chapter: Bar Fight Estimated time remaining: 10 Hours, 50 Minutes