Michael remained seated on the bench.
His expression unreadable as more footsteps echoed through the corridor behind him.
One after another, new figures entered the chamber.
So wore noble crests—trimd coats of silk and leather armor stitched with house insignias.
Others had no family symbols at all and only polished gear.
More nobles.
More commoners.
Michael noted them all.
A few gave curt nods in greeting, but most simply scanned the room and chose a corner.
Tension thickened like fog.
Among everyone present, one more caught his attention.
A girl.
Not so young. At least she was approaching her mid twenties already.
Her fra was slender but wiry.
A long braid ran down her back, and her gaze was… focused.
Michael had seen her before—one of the few commoner females who had made it through the first round.
And the only one who remained now.
She also dressed like what one would expect from a female adventurer.
She didn't look around. Didn't glance at anyone.
She just stood by a far wall, eyes closed, hands resting on the hilts of twin daggers crossed behind her waist.
Michael watched her for another few seconds, then shifted his gaze.
The murmur of whispers died as two familiar figures entered the waiting hall from the rear doors.
The officials.
The middle-aged man and woman—both clad, as always, in sharp, pristine shades of deep blue.
Their robes swirled slightly as they moved.
The woman's hair was tied in a tight knot, her expression calm but steely.
The man walked with hands behind his back, a small roll of parchnt clutched loosely in one palm.
The room straightened on instinct.
"Participants," the man began, his voice clear, "your mont has co."
He didn't wait for applause. There wasn't any.
"This is the final trial. From this point on, the eyes of the entire kingdom are on you.
Michael felt the air shift.
Even Uga stirred slightly at those words.
"There are lords, rchants, generals, guildmasters, and even foreign delegates watching today's events," the woman added, her voice as crisp as steel on ice. "This stage.... It is a window. A chance."
She gave the room a slow sweep of her eyes. "And for so of you, it may be the chance."
Michael remained motionless, but he noticed several participants shift in their seats. One noble straightened. Another commoner clenched his jaw.
"You are not just fighting for a title," the man said, pacing slowly in front of them. "The Duke's reward is great, yes. But even if you do not win, this stage offers more than you think."
He stopped near a brazier and turned.
"If you perform well—if you impress—there are people here with the power to offer sponsorship. Positions. Apprenticeships. Favor."
The woman nodded once.
"So fight. Not just for victory. But to be seen."
Michael's gaze wandered again.
So looked stunned.
Especially the commoners.
One burly axeman blinked rapidly, clearly having never imagined himself as soone who could attract a noble's favor.
Another participant—a skinny youth with a jagged scar across his nose—seed to perk up for the first ti.
But there were others, too.
Like the female dagger-user.
She didn't move.
She already knew.
Michael leaned back slightly, his mind making quiet assessnts. Of course that's why so of the commoner girls participated. Not everyone ca here to win. So ca to be seen.
And one did.
Only one passed.
Her.
He didn't know her na. But that wasn't important.
She had earned her spot.
The male official checked the parchnt in his hand and rolled it back up.
"We begin shortly. Prepare yourselves."
Then both turned, blue robes fluttering as they exited through the side passage.
The room fell into silence again.
But the air was different.
Thicker.
Sharper.
Michael adjusted the spear resting beside him, eyes half-lidded as he reached down and tapped his earrings once.
It begins, he thought and continued waiting.
The silence didn't last.
Monts after the blue-robed officials exited, a new presence swept into the room.
He was dressed in red.
A red-robed official.
His eyes swept across the participants.
"Listen up," he said, voice blunt and precise. "Before the final trial begins, you will be grouped."
He raised a slim parchnt and unfurled it with a flick of his wrist.
"There will be four groups," he continued. "Group A through D. Each with a maximum of twenty-five participants."
Michael's eyes narrowed slightly at that.
Twenty-five?
He did the math instantly. Yesterday, the results had shown sixty-nine participants passed to the final trial.
Four groups of twenty-five would an space for a hundred.
That left thirty-one extra slots.
If they were ant to be filled that is.
He wasn't the only one who noticed.
A few heads turned.
The quiet girl by the wall frowned slightly. Michael's thoughts raced.
Are they padding the groups? Or… are the true participants only now arriving?
He couldn't be sure. But deep down, he felt it.
So of the real players had yet to appear.
And this… this was just their curtain call.
He barely finished that thought when the door at the far end opened again.
And in walked a figure he imdiately recognized.
Renn.
Renn was dressed all in leather armour making him look a little intimidating.
If it wasn't for the weathered look on the armour, he would have looked a little more noble.
His wooden sword was strapped to his side.
How face set in the kind of calm that was built on sheer willpower.
He didn't walk over.
Didn't speak.
But from across the chamber, he nodded once at Michael.
Michael returned the gesture.
Then Renn moved to an open spot on the opposite end of the room—alone.
Michael watched him for a mont longer, then shifted his gaze as the red-robed official began to read nas aloud.
The grouping process had begun.
"Group A—Uga," the official called first.
The hulking figure didn't react.
"Cassius Rell."
A lanky noble nodded and stepped aside.
"Dela Myre," the official continued. The na belonged to the dagger girl. She stepped forward silently and moved to the left as instructed.
Na after na was called.
The groups filled slowly.
And then—
"Mic Nor," the official called.
Michael stood without a word.
The red-robed official didn't even glance up. "Group B."
Michael walked to the right side of the chamber and found a quiet space.
Renn's na ca a few turns later.
"Renn Noah," the official said.
"Group C."
Renn's expression didn't change, but Michael saw it.
The flicker of tension.
If they had been placed in the sa group, they wouldn't face each other early. That was the logic.
Now?
That possibility had just vanished.
Renn exhaled through his nose and moved silently toward his assigned group.
Michael's group was getting filled slowly. So familiar faces. A few strangers.
But neither Renn nor Uga were among them.
Michael felt no disappointnt. No concern.
Uga didn't either. The bearlike commoner was already lounging in Group A, leaning against a wall like it was his personal tent.
But Renn?
Renn's fingers tapped once on the hilt of his sword.
Not out of fear.
Out of calculation.
He'd wanted the odds tilted in his favor. Now… now the board was complicated.
Michael returned to his corner and closed his eyes.
However, he didn't have enough ti to rest before the official clad in red robe spoke again.
"Look around. There are several entrances here. I'm not sure if so of you have figured out their purpose by now but I'll say it."
"These entrances lead to the stage directly. Ahead is also a waiting room. Now according to your group, you'll enter and wait for your na to be called to co on stage. Other people will also get joining you soon."
Michael's eyes opened slowly at that last line.
"Other people will also be joining you soon."
So it was true.
He had suspected. The math didn't lie. But hearing it confird aloud—hearing the red-robed official say it so casually, like it wasn't about to change the entire dynamic of the trial—settled it.
There were more participants.
Ones who hadn't been through the first two trials.
Hidden candidates.
Probably handpicked.
Michael said nothing.
But his thoughts ran deeper now.
How many? 100? And why hide them until now? Were they being kept in reserve? Were they the true heirs the Duke hoped to see succeed?
It didn't matter. Not really.
Michael rose from his position and followed the rest of Group B as they were motioned toward one of the side entrances. A tall corridor branched into a wide passage.
At the end of it stood a reinforced steel door.
It opened with a whisper, revealing a clean, simple waiting room with rows of stone benches.
Michael stepped in, found a seat at the farthest bench from the door, and lowered himself calmly.
Other mbers of his group filed in behind him.
*******
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