Loen

Loen leaned lazily against a tree, a red apple held in his hand. He tossed it into the air and caught it deftly, casting a mocking gaze toward the line of assembled knights.

— Well, well, I see everyone is here. Did you miss me? I don't hear much enthusiasm... Alright, let's get down to business. We have an unscheduled training session today. And don't look at me like that—are you really intimidated by a simple apple?

He stepped back a few dozen paces, turned to face the squad, and with a sly smirk, balanced the apple atop his head.

— The rules are simple, knights. From this distance, you will take turns shooting... and hitting the target. On your first try. If you miss, you can look forward to my "special" training sessions. And goodness, the rumors about those are endless... Am I right?

He stared expectantly at the formation, clearly relishing the mounting tension.

— Why are you standing there frozen? Your time starts now. Just a warning: if your hand trembles or your gaze wavers, you'd better step aside. I don't like it when people hesitate before a shot. Pressure is the best motivator, isn't it? And if anyone tries to get smart or refuses... well, I can always find a way to make this training more interesting.

Loen smirked, crossing his arms over his chest as he cast a glance toward the nearest marksman.

— Well? Who's going to be the first to risk proving they actually earned that knightly title? Show me what you're capable of. And, knight... try not to miss.