The Exiled Prince Domination
Chapter 72: The Highland Games
The sun rose bright and golden over the hills of DunBroch, bathing the land in warm light.
A large open field near the castle had been transformed into a grand arena for the Highland Games. Targets stood ready for archery, heavy stones waited for putting, and massive hammers lay beside throwing lanes. Crowds gathered in colorful throngs, cheering, drinking, and shouting support for their favorite clans. King Fergus walked among the people with a beaming smile, slapping warriors on the back, while Queen Elinor watched everything with careful, anxious eyes, trying her best to maintain order.
Lucian strolled through the festive chaos with Ariel at his side. Simba trotted along happily near them. The rest of the gang, Astrid, Fishlegs, Snotlout, Ruffnut, and Tuffnut followed close behind, eyes wide with excitement.
While the main representatives prepared for the formal events, the crowd entertained themselves with many traditional Highland games.
The Caber Toss was one of the most impressive. Warriors lifted massive pine logs over six meters long and heavier than fifty kilograms, ran forward, and attempted to flip them end-over-end so they landed pointing straight away. The crowd roared with every attempt.
Next came Maide-leisg, the "lazy stick" contest. Two competitors sat on the ground facing each other, soles of their feet pressed together, pulling on a stick with all their strength. The first to be pulled off the ground or forced to let go lost.
Tug-o’-War proved incredibly popular. Two teams of eight pulled on a thick rope, feet digging into the dirt, until one side dragged the other across the line. It was raw power and teamwork at its finest.
There was also the grueling Hill Race up and down a steep, rocky slope, a true test of endurance.
The gang couldn’t resist joining in.
Snotlout dominated the Caber Toss with brute strength, though his form was terrible.
Ruffnut and Tuffnut caused chaos during Tug-o’-War, accidentally tripping their own teammates. Fishlegs surprised everyone by lasting surprisingly long in Maide-leisg thanks to his core strength.
The most entertaining match was when Ariel and Astrid faced off in Maide-leisg. The two girls sat opposite each other, feet planted, gripping the stick tightly. Ariel’s grace gave her excellent balance, while Astrid’s Viking training gave her raw power. They pulled with fierce determination, faces red, until Astrid finally yanked Ariel forward, winning by a narrow margin. Both girls laughed as they helped each other up, the crowd cheering wildly.
Lucian watched with a small smile, occasionally receiving system notifications as he passed important figures.
[Ding! You have encountered a Special Character: Lord Dingwall.]
[Ding! You have encountered a Special Character: Lord MacGuffin.]
[Ding! You have encountered a Special Character: Lord Macintosh.]
[Ding! You have encountered a Special Character: Conan.]
[Ding!...]
He didn’t pay them much mind. He was simply enjoying the lively atmosphere.
Eventually, the time came for the final and most anticipated event.
Fergus stood up on the platform and bellowed, "It’s time!"
Elinor stepped forward gracefully. "Archers, to your marks!"
Fergus echoed loudly, "Aye! Archers, to your marks!"
Elinor continued, "And may the lucky arrow find its target!"
The crowd cheered as the young lords’ sons stepped up. Young MacGuffin shot first but only hit the edge of the target. Merida whispered to her father with a smirk, "I bet he wishes he was tossing cabers."
Fergus laughed. "Holding up bridges!"
Elinor gave them both a disapproving look.
Young Macintosh went next. His arrow struck near the center, but not quite. He threw a dramatic tantrum, screaming and hurling his bow. Someone in the crowd caught it.
Hiccup was next. He stepped up nervously, struggling a little with the unfamiliar bow. He drew it with visible effort, aimed carefully, and released. The arrow struck the boundary between the outer ring and the bullseye.
Fergus nodded approvingly. "Quite good!"
Young Dingwall went last. Despite his small size and awkward grip, his arrow flew true and hit the dead center of the bullseye. Lord Dingwall cheered and did a little victory dance before mischievously lifting his kilt toward the other lords.
Fergus turned to Elinor in shock. "Well, that’s just grand now, isn’t it? Guess who’s coming to dinner?"
Before he could finish teasing, he turned toward Merida’s seat, only to find a dog sitting there instead. Merida had slipped away.
A figure in a black cape strode onto the field.
"I am Merida!" she declared boldly. "First born descendant of Clan DunBroch! And I’ll be shooting for my own hand!"
Elinor’s eyes widened in horror. "Merida! What are you doing?"
Merida struggled in her tight dress but ripped the fabric at the shoulders and back with a determined yank. "Curse this dress!"
Now free to move, she drew her bow and fired. The first arrow hit the center perfectly.
The second followed. When she reached the third target, the one with Young Dingwall’s arrow still embedded, she took careful aim.
Elinor shouted desperately, "Merida, I forbid it!"
But Merida released the arrow anyway.
Thwack!
Her shot split Young Dingwall’s arrow cleanly in half.
The entire field fell into stunned silence.
Queen Elinor’s face turned red with fury. She marched onto the field, grabbed Merida by the arm, and dragged her daughter away toward the castle.
Lucian watched the entire scene unfold from the sidelines, arms crossed. A knowing smile played on his lips.