**Chapter 30: The Test of Will and Knowledge**
The crowd cheered as the 100 successful participants left the stage, their faces alight with the pride of having passed the Knight's Heart test. Each step they took was a testament to their unbreakable will, and the onlookers couldn't help but admire their courage. Among the group, the dark adventurer Ozil walked with a subtle smirk, his dark eyes gleaming with satisfaction. No one suspected that this newcomer was actually the sinister priest of Regon in disguise.
As the crowd settled down, the city guards moved onto the stage, prepared to clear it for the next event. But not everyone was ready to leave quietly. A group of disgruntled men, led by a burly, portly fellow with more muscles than sense, stood their ground. Their faces were twisted in anger, and their eyes burned with resentment.
"This test was rigged!" the portly man shouted, his voice booming across the stage. "We deserve another chance! We're better than those weaklings who passed!"
Ozil, the priest, now in his guise as an adventurer, couldn't resist the opportunity to mock the man. "Better, you say? Then why are you standing there, whining like a child who lost his toy?" His tone was dripping with disdain, and the crowd chuckled at his words.
The portly man's face turned red with fury. "You think you're funny, huh?" he roared. "Let's see how funny you are when I'm done with you!" With that, he charged at Ozil, his fists swinging wildly.
Ozil didn't flinch. He simply stood there, his hand resting casually on the hilt of his sword. As the portly man drew near, Ozil moved with blinding speed. His sword flashed in the light, and before anyone could react, the portly man was impaled through the chest. The crowd gasped in shock as the man crumpled to the ground, blood pooling beneath him.
The priest's eyes gleamed as he felt the man's soul being consumed, adding to his dark power. But to the crowd, it was simply the act of a skilled adventurer defending himself. No one cared about the dead man; after all, he had challenged a recruit of the Knight Academy—a challenge that had ended in his swift and brutal demise.
The city guards quickly moved in, dragging the body off the stage and clearing away the last remnants of resistance. The stage was now ready for the next tournament, and the crowd buzzed with anticipation.
The next event was one that had drawn alchemists from all over the region—an alchemy tournament hosted by the prestigious Azura Alchemy Hall. This was a rare opportunity for alchemists to prove their worth and earn a place in the hall, the most respected alchemy institution in the region. Among the hopefuls was Alaric, his heart pounding with both excitement and nerves as he took his place among the competitors. In the stands, his wife Aria watched with pride, her eyes filled with love and encouragement.
The stage was transformed into a sea of alchemical tables, each one laden with the finest materials. The Azura Alchemy Hall spared no expense, providing the best quality ingredients for the competitors to work with. The wealth and power of the hall were evident in every detail, and the crowd marveled at the sight.
But despite the grandeur, the competition was fierce. Only three spots were available, and the stakes were high. The twin prodigies from the city's branch of the alchemy hall, a brother and sister named Elric and Elara, were expected to claim two of those spots. They were already well-known in the city for their extraordinary talent, and many believed they were guaranteed to win.
That left only one spot for the independent alchemists and those from other cities. Among the competitors were a few dark horses, including a very old man named Master Rylan, who was said to have knowledge of ancient alchemical techniques, and a young girl no more than six years old, who had caught everyone's attention.
The girl, Elena, was an enigma. No one knew where she had come from, but the moment she stepped on stage, all eyes were on her. She was beautiful beyond measure, her presence commanding and serene. But there was something more—something about her that was almost otherworldly. As Hendrix, Lu, and Aster watched her from the stands, they were completely mesmerized.
"She's like an angel," Hendrix whispered, his eyes wide with awe.
Old Lark chuckled, patting Hendrix on the head. "She's not an angel, but if you ever saw one, I doubt there would be much difference—apart from the wings."
The people around them laughed at Old Lark's words, but the awe remained. Even the seasoned knights and city leaders couldn't help but steal glances at the girl. The 5-star knight, who was sitting nearby, turned to the Baron's wife and asked, "Who is that man?" He was referring to Old Lark, who seemed so ordinary yet was so composed in the midst of all the excitement.
"He's no one," the Baron's wife replied dismissively. "Just a wine master my sister-in-law brought."
The knight nodded, losing interest. To him, Old Lark was just another face in the crowd. But Old Lark didn't care for attention. His only concern was Hendrix, and making sure the boy was safe and happy.
As the tournament preparations continued, the competitors were called forward one by one for the first round—a question-and-answer session designed to test their knowledge of alchemy. The overseer of this round was Alonso, a 4-star alchemist known for his harsh demeanor. He had been sent to oversee the tournament as a punishment for some unknown infraction, and he was clearly not pleased to be there. His eyes were cold, and his tone was sharp as he called out the names of the competitors.
One by one, the alchemists stepped forward, each hoping to impress the overseer and the crowd. Alonso wasted no time in trying to trip them up, asking complex questions and demanding they identify rare herbs and alchemical materials. The crowd watched intently, laughing at the blunders and cheering for those who succeeded
The first to be called was an older man from a neighboring city named Master Rylan. He was well-known for his knowledge of ancient alchemy techniques, and the crowd murmured in anticipation as he stepped forward.
"Identify this herb," Alonso commanded, holding up a dried plant with dark green leaves and a pungent smell.
Rylan studied the herb for a moment before answering confidently, "That is Shadowroot, a rare herb found only in the deepest parts of the Shadowed Forest. It's used primarily in potions of concealment and invisibility."
Alonso nodded, seemingly satisfied. "Correct. Now, tell me, what happens if Shadowroot is mixed with Embervine?"
Rylan's eyes narrowed as he considered the question. "When mixed with Embervine, the resulting potion becomes volatile, often causing explosive reactions. It's a combination best avoided unless one is skilled enough to stabilize it with a neutralizing agent such as Frostbloom."
The crowd cheered as Alonso gave a reluctant nod of approval. Master Rylan had passed the first round.
Next up was a young man named Tomas, an alchemist from a small town to the south. His nervousness was evident as he stepped forward, his hands shaking slightly.
"Name three uses for Dragon's Breath," Alonso demanded, his tone leaving no room for error.
Tomas hesitated, his mind racing. "Uh… Dragon's Breath can be used in… in potions of fire resistance… in, um, creating explosive alchemical devices, and, uh…"
The crowd began to murmur, sensing Tomas's struggle.
Alonso's eyes narrowed. "And?"
Tomas stammered, "And… and… in, uh, strengthening metal alloys?"
Alonso shook his head in disappointment. "Incorrect. Dragon's Breath is not used for strengthening metal. You fail this round." The crowd groaned as Tomas slunk back, his hopes dashed.
The questioning continued, with alchemists from various cities stepping forward to face Alonso's scrutiny. Some succeeded, while others faltered, their dreams slipping away with each incorrect answer.
When it was finally Elena's turn, the crowd fell into a hushed silence, their anticipation palpable. The young girl, who had captured the hearts of everyone with her angelic appearance, walked forward with a calm and steady demeanor. Her every step seemed to carry an air of grace, and for a moment, even the stern overseer, Alonso, appeared taken by her presence.
"Elena," Alonso called out, his voice uncharacteristically gentle. "Step forward."
Elena did as instructed, her bright eyes fixed on Alonso. The crowd leaned in, eager to see this mysterious girl demonstrate her abilities.
Alonso picked up a small vial filled with a shimmering liquid and held it out for her to see. "Identify this material," he asked, making his tone slightly more approachable than it had been with the others.
Elena gazed at the vial, but instead of the quick, confident response the crowd had expected, she remained silent, her expression blank. She seemed unsure, almost lost. After a few moments, she hesitantly shook her head, indicating she didn't know the answer.
The crowd, who had been holding their breath, let out a collective sigh of disappointment. Still, they remained hopeful, thinking perhaps she would redeem herself with the next question.
Alonso, his initial surprise fading, tried again. This time he held up a piece of dark stone, its surface glinting in the light. "And this?" he asked, his voice holding a touch of encouragement, as though willing her to succeed.
Elena looked at the stone, but the same uncertainty clouded her features. Once more, she shook her head, her silence speaking volumes. The crowd exchanged sorrowful glances, their hearts sinking. They had hoped for something remarkable, but it was clear that Elena lacked the alchemical knowledge needed for this tournament.
Alonso, realizing the girl was untrained, decided to give her one last, much easier question, hoping to salvage the situation. He picked up a common herb, one that even the most basic alchemists would recognize. "Identify this herb," he said softly.
Elena stared at the herb, her face scrunched in concentration, but the answer eluded her. She had never been trained in alchemy, and it was evident that she had no knowledge of even the simplest alchemical ingredients. Once more, she shook her head, signaling her inability to answer.
A wave of sadness washed over the crowd. The beautiful girl who had captivated their hearts had failed, performing worse than any of the other competitors. Elena's turn ended in quiet disappointment, and she walked back to her place, her expression still calm, though her failure weighed heavily on the crowd.
Then it was Alaric's turn. The crowd, still subdued from Elena's performance, suddenly perked up as his name was called. Alaric was well known in the city, respected for his dedication to alchemy, and the people had high hopes for him. As he stepped forward, the atmosphere changed—hope and excitement returned to the stands. Aria's voice rang out above the rest, cheering for her husband with all her heart.
"Go Alaric! You've got this!" she shouted, her encouragement echoing through the arena.
Alaric smiled nervously, his heart pounding in his chest. The sound of Aria's voice brought him a small measure of comfort, but the pressure was immense. As he stood in front of Alonso, the weight of the moment pressed down on him. His heart was beating so hard, it felt as though it might burst from his chest. This was his chance to prove himself, to secure a future for him and Aria, but the fear of failure loomed large.
Alonso's sharp eyes scrutinized him as he prepared to ask the first question, but before the overseer could speak, Alaric found himself whispering a quiet prayer. He was not a particularly spiritual man, but in that moment of intense pressure, he couldn't help but reach out to any higher power that might be listening. He prayed for the wisdom to answer correctly, for the strength to overcome his nerves, and for the courage to make Aria proud.
His whispered words were barely audible, but they were filled with sincerity. And as he stood there, waiting for the first question, Alaric took a deep breath, readying himself for the challenge ahead.
Alonso, having seen the intensity in Alaric's eyes, leaned forward slightly, preparing to deliver the first question that would test the young alchemist's knowledge and resolve. The crowd fell silent once more, their hopes pinned on the city's beloved alchemist, as the tournament continued.
****End of chapter 30****