Free Web NovelChapter 8: In infrimary with Emma
"I don’t know how much you’re hiding," Emma said, her grey eyes narrowing at him like a predator gonna devour. The cold disgust in her tone is completely gone, replaced by an excited smile. "But I won’t hold back anymore."
’Is that a compliment or a literal death threat?’ Eren wondered, but he didn’t have time to decide before she was on him again. She feinted a high hook to his jaw, instantly dropped her hips, and launched that exact same liver-crushing knee she had used to fold the giant earlier.
"Oh, hell nah," Eren muttered.
He dropped his elbow to catch the knee and instantly countered. He twisted his hips and threw a lightning jab right across her pretty face.
The force sent Emma skidding a few steps backward before she came to a halt.
Around the ring, the soldiers’ jaws dropped so low they practically found oil.
"Are you sure he’s our young master?" one knight whispered, his voice trembling with awe.
"Even the best vanguard couldn’t scratch her. How the hell did he do that?"
"I heard he sent the infamous Reinhardt into a coma, but I thought it was just exaggerated rumors!"
Eren watched as Emma wiped blood off her lip. She stared at the red smear on her thumb for a second, and then she looked back at Eren.
Her grey eyes were practically glowing with a foreign feeling.
"Looks like your time at the academy really did change you, Young Master," Emma breathed. "Just as the Duke wished."
She planned to torture him today by giving him twenty laps, a hundred push-ups, a hundred squats. She expected him to run crying. Instead, he did it all. Then, she proposed this spar to legally beat her frustrations out of him. But now? Her blood was pumping. She had never felt a thrill like this, and she wanted more.
"Sorry for ruining your pretty face," Eren apologized smoothly. He took a step toward the tanned beauty and threw a slow, clumsy punch.
Emma caught it effortlessly.
"That’s it?" Emma grinned, tilting her head in disappointment. "I thought you could do more."
Eren smirked right back at her. "Yeah. That’s what everyone says right before something stupid happens."
Before she could process the cheesy one-liner, Eren hooked his leg cleanly behind her ankle, and swept her leg with everything he had left.
Emma’s eyes widened in shock as she fell backward toward the dirt. But she was a combat genius for a reason. As she fell, her grip on his wrist didn’t loosen.
Instead, she used his own momentum against him, yanking him down into the fall with her.
’"Woah—!"’
A cloud of dust exploded into the air as they hit the ground. As the dust finally settled, Eren groaned, staring up at the bright blue sky. He was pinned flat on his back, utterly immobilized.
Emma was straddling his waist, her thick thighs locked tightly around his hips and her both hands locked his hands onto the ground.
Eren swallowed hard, also feeling happy that an incredibly toned muscle mommy was currently sitting on his lap. He underestimated her grip strength.
"You yield?" Emma asked with a wild smile as she leaned into his face.
"Didn’t I tell you that... I hate to disappoint you?" Eren replied cockily between his breaths. "But I can’t help it now. I give up."
Emma chuckled softly, her wild smile vanished into a new proud smile, forgetting entirely her purpose of this spar. She rolled off him smoothly and sat down on the dirt beside him, legs stretched out. Eren pushed himself up into a sitting position, both of them breathing heavily on the ground.
"When exactly did you learn to fight like that?" Emma asked, her grey eyes scanning his face as if trying to solve a complex puzzle.
Eren dusted off his shirt and shot her a smooth smirk. "Let’s just say I had my training in the dark."
Before Emma could press further, the dead silence of the training ground finally shattered.
"He survived! He actually survived the Captain!" a vanguard knight cheered, breaking ranks.
"Did you see that jab? The Young Master’s got hands!"
The soldiers erupted into cheers, clapping and whistling for Eren. In their eyes, surviving a sparring session with the ’Angel of Death’ without getting knocked unconscious was basically the equivalent of slaying a dragon.
Emma looked at the cheering squad surrounding Eren. The deep-rooted hatred and disgust she had harbored for years seemed to be forgotten. This wasn’t the spoiled, pathetic bully she remembered.
This version of Eren had real potential. Her battle-maniac brain was already drafting a brutal five-year training regimen for him.
But her sharp eyes caught white bandages wrapped around Eren’s knuckles soaking through with fresh blood.
"Your hands," Emma said, her brow furrowing with sudden concern. She gently took his wrist to inspect the damage. "What happened?"
Eren glanced down and shrugged nonchalantly. "Must have popped a few blisters and reopened some injuries while trying to make sure you didn’t cave my ribcage in."
Emma’s expression shifted to a mix of guilt and sheer respect. She stood up, and without a word, she extended her hand toward him.
Eren looked at the hand, before grabbing it, and with an effortless pull, she hoisted his dead weight off the ground like he weighed nothing.
Emma turned her gaze back to her squad, the proud smile instantly vanishing back into her terrifying Captain persona.
"What are you all standing around cheering for? Everyone, resume formations! Twenty laps around the perimeter, then pair up for grappling! I’m taking the Young Master to the infirmary. If I see anyone slacking when I return, you’ll be sparring with me next!"
The soldiers immediately stiffened, the cheering dying in their throats.
Emma gestured for Eren to follow, leading him away from the dusty arena and into the manor.
A few minutes later, the two of them found themselves sitting in the estate’s quiet, empty infirmary.
"Where on earth did the head healer wander off to?" Emma muttered in annoyance as she wrapped the bandages around the Eren’s knuckles. "Probably napping in the greenhouse again. Useless."
Eren sat on the edge of the bed while Emma occupied a small wooden stool right in front of him. Her treatment was surprisingly careful and gentle. Yesterday, this same woman looked at him like he was a cockroach that needed to be stepped on.
"That should hold until a proper healer can channel some recovery magic into the deeper tissues. Try not to punch anything else today."
"Thank you, Captain," Eren said, flexing his both hands. "I feel like a brand new man."
"You fought well," Emma said as she stood up from the stool. She rolled her right shoulder, wincing slightly. "But since the healer is nowhere to be found, I’m going to need your help too. I scraped my shoulder when we hit the dirt, and it’s out of my reach."
"Sure thing," Eren said casually. "I owe you one anyway. Where is the—"
His brain completely stopped functioning mid-sentence.
Emma didn’t ask him to pull down her collar. Emma, a woman of pure military efficiency with absolutely zero sense of aristocratic modesty, simply pulled her sweat drenched tank top over her head and tossed it onto a nearby chair.
Eren’s soul temporarily left his body.
It’s 9999 Damage.
Standing right in front of him was an absolute masterpiece of physique. Her back and shoulders were sculpted with lean, corded muscle that rippled beautifully as she moved. But it wasn’t just her back. When she turned slightly to point out the injury, Eren was greeted with the devastating view.
Her heavy, perfectly shaped breasts were barely contained by a tight, black sports bra that looked like it was fighting a desperate, losing battle against physics and a huge scar running between her gorgeous cleavage.
He wants to thank that sexy goddess for the first time.
