The arena had not stopped applauding for several minutes.
What began as cheers had evolved into sothing greater.
Respect.
The na of Thane echoed from every corner of the grand arena.
"THANE!"
"THANE!"
"THANE!"
The chants rolled like thunder across the stands.
Bentram’s citizens rose to their feet. Even many foreign spectators found themselves applauding.
The giant had done what everyone wished to see.
He had upheld Bentram’s honor, successfully answered Donovan’s insults, and he had done so in the most direct way possible, by beating him senseless.
Thane stood awkwardly in the middle of the arena. He was covered in blood.
Bruised from head to toe and breathing heavily.
He scratched his injured head. "I’m getting a headache. Stop shouting my na!"
The crowd laughed at his straightforwardness.
From the crowd, Max nearly jumped over the railing. "THANE!"
His voice was sohow louder than thousands of people. "YOU DID IT!"
Max’s face was red from shouting. His excitent seed endless.
Beside him stood Eudora. Unlike Max, she remained calm.
Her arms were folded as she stood straight.
The towering young woman observed her brother from above.
A proud smile rested on her face, subtle and very small, barely noticeable.
She wanted to jump like Max too, but Thane was watching. She had to act tough.
When Thane accidentally looked in her direction, she imdiately wiped the smile away.
The giant froze. He wasn’t sure whether he had imagined it.
The tournant continued. The officials quickly moved things forward.
There wasn’t enough ti to let the crowd calm down.
The one-versus-one tournant had many matches left.
Soon enough, the referee called another na.
"Thane!"
The crowd erupted once more.
The giant sighed. "My body hurts."
But he still entered the arena.
This ti, however, he stopped by the weapon racks.
Rows upon rows of training weapons awaited.
Swords, spears, maces, axes, shields, and clubs.
Thane imdiately searched for sothing.
"Hamr," he mumbled.
Finding that there was no hamr, his shoulders drooped.
The giant looked disappointed. After several seconds, he found the next best thing.
A large wooden axe. Most participants needed both hands to wield it.
Thane lifted it with one. The weapon looked oddly small in his grasp.
The giant walked into the arena carrying the axe over one shoulder.
His opponent entered from the opposite side.
The young man froze as the arena quieted.
Everyone waited. The candidate stared at Thane, then at the axe, and then at the bruises covering the giant’s body.
A mory ca, the mory of Donovan being carried away.
The youth swallowed hard. The referee raised his hand.
Before he could announce the start, the candidate said, "I surrender."
Silence befell before the laughter exploded throughout the arena.
The candidate bowed respectfully toward Thane. "I do not possess a death wish."
More laughter followed. Even Thane looked confused. "You sure?"
The youth nodded imdiately. "Never been this much sure in my life."
The referee declared the result.
Victory... Thane.
The giant sighed. "That was easy. Thank gods."
After several fights, the referee called his na again.
The crowd cheered.
The giant entered carrying his axe.
This ti his opponent looked even more nervous.
The poor fellow had just witnessed the previous surrender.
Now he stood face to face with the monster responsible.
The candidate took one look at Thane and sighed. "I surrender."
The crowd erupted. The referee looked irritated.
Thane looked disappointed. "I didn’t even swing it."
The candidate imdiately pointed at him. "Exactly, let’s keep it that way."
The crowd laughed once more.
While Thane enjoyed a surprisingly peaceful path through the bracket, Etno’s situation proved entirely different.
The Krynovan swordsman beca the target of every patriotic Bentrami candidate remaining.
Many believed what Donovan had failed to do, they could accomplish.
Others simply wanted to challenge the strongest swordsman present.
A few wanted revenge for Thane. The result was the sa.
Etno was forced to fight, again and again.
Unlike Thane, nobody surrendered against him. It was an elimination fight. One loss and the aspirant was out.
Every opponent fought desperately. So attacked recklessly, others employed clever tactics.
One candidate even sacrificed victory solely in an attempt to reveal one of Etno’s techniques to future opponents.
The crowd watched each battle carefully.
Most importantly, Thane watched.
The giant sat near the competitors’ area.
A bag of food rested beside him. He ate while observing. "That sword guy is weird."
The movents fascinated him. Etno never appeared rushed or seed nervous in the slightest.
Every strike seed calculated, and every movent was efficient. Nothing wasted.
Even when facing multiple styles, his expression barely changed. Yet his eyes remained open, forced to watch unblinkingly.
One candidate attacked aggressively, another attempted deception, another tried endurance, like Thane.
Every path led to the sa destination: pained screams that forced them into defeat.
By now, many candidates had begun calling Etno the strongest participant.
Others disagreed. Those people usually pointed toward Thane.
The debate spread throughout the arena.
Who was stronger?
The giant or the swordsman.
Nobody knew, not until this mont.
The majority was on Etno’s side. Only patriotic Bentramis were chanting Thane’s na.
As evening approached, the tournant finally slowed.
The field of competitors shrank. Dozens beca sixteen.
Sixteen beca eight. Eight beca four.
By sunset, only four remained standing.
The entire arena buzzed with excitent.
These four represented the finest aspirants among thousands.
The final elite and future stars.
The final four stepped into the center platform.
The crowd erupted.
First was Thane, the giant of Bentram. The crowd favorite and the monster of raw strength.
Second was Etno Kamsi, the swordsman of Krynova. Calm and precise. Nearly untouchable.
Third was a Drevlorn candidate. Unlike Donovan, this young man spoke little.
He had quietly advanced through the tournant using brutal efficiency. Tall and broad-shouldered.
He was dangerous. So argued he was stronger than Donovan had ever been.
Lastly, a second aspirant from Krynova. One of Etno’s companions, a skilled spear user.
The four stood beneath the evening sun. Thousands watched.
Judges observed, and academy recruiters took notes.
Principals whispered among themselves. Even Athenok seed pleased.
Blue Leaf Academy wanted Thane at any cost, that much was obvious.
Yet things had changed. Now every academy wanted him. Except the Golden Crown Academy. Zoases had visible regret on his face.
The giant had beco impossible to ignore.
anwhile, another na lingered in people’s minds.
Conor Fury.
Several spectators sighed.
Many believed the young swordsman would have reached higher.
Perhaps even the semifinals. His performance had proven his talent.
Unfortunately, Donovan’s illegal strike had ended those dreams.
For now, Conor remained in the infirmary, recovering and unable to compete.
The tournant moved forward without him, yet his absence was felt.
Especially by Thane. The giant looked toward the final four.
Then toward the infirmary building visible in the distance. His grip tightened around the wooden axe.
Sowhere inside him, beneath all the bruises and exhaustion, excitent began to grow.
Because sooner or later, he would have to face Etno Kamsi.
And unlike Donovan and everyone else...
The giant wasn’t certain he could win. That uncertainty made him grin.
For the first ti since entering the academy examinations.
Thane was not confident in winning.
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