The atmosphere in the stands began to shift. The people roared with applause and cheers, voices crashing like waves. The nobles leaned in, whispering, noting names, sensing power. These children were no longer mere candidates they were becoming pieces in a much larger game of authority.
Among the remaining contestants, glances were exchanged. Some calm, others nervous. And a few... smiled not because they were fearless, but because they had waited for this moment all their lives.
In the Umbra section, Eric Vale tightened the straps of his worn gloves. The son of a simple farmer from the western provinces. He had no noble blood, no formal training. But his will had carried him through three brutal selection rounds, and now he sat shoulder to shoulder with the empire's elite.
"I know they look the other way when they see me. But I also know... I'm not here because of luck."
A few seats away, Viella D'Arceon cast him a passing glance expressionless. She recognized something different in him. But different didn't mean threatening not yet.
Across the field, in the Solaria section, Lucius Octavianus Magnus, the crown prince, wore a face of slight boredom. But his eyes sharp and calculating betrayed no arrogance, only analysis.
"So much noise... for such small duels."
"If this keeps up, we'll run out of time before anyone worth facing shows up."
Just as the noise began to settle, Magister Halvran Rusk stepped forward once again, his voice booming across the arena:
"Next. Prepare yourselves. For now step forth those who carry not only names but expectations."
Two figures rose.
Eric Vale, son of a farmer.
Neria Vaelric, daughter of the Duke of the North.
Their differences weren't just in status. But in purpose.
Ericfighting to prove that blood isn't everything.
Neria fighting to prove that her blood still matters.