Zikron still stood tall at the center of the room, his steely gaze calmly sweeping over the ten children who had stepped forward to introduce themselves.
The flickering torchlight cast trembling shadows on their faces. Though the imposing throne behind him naturally drew the eye, Zikron paid it no attention. His focus lay elsewhere, fixed on these young contenders—each only eight years old, like him. Children, yes, but not innocent.
Every single one carried on their shoulders a burden far greater than their age implied: the weight of family expectations and the need for survival.
He allowed a short silence to settle—a calculated silence, so the moment would weigh on them all. Controlling the atmosphere was crucial.
"Ten people," he began, his voice calm and measured. "That's more than I would have expected."
He stepped forward, scanning the faces of those who had come to introduce themselves.
Ester, standing at his side, crossed his arms, throwing a curious glance at the others. Zikron seemed neither hurried nor worried.
Unlike the other children, who displayed signs of nervousness or impatience, he remained perfectly calm. It was yet another of the many lessons his father had taught him: patience is the weapon of a sovereign.
"Before we begin," Zikron continued, "I think it's best that we get to know each other. After all, we're going to have to work together. I'd rather know who I'm dealing with. Don't you agree?"
A murmur ran through the group. Some nodded. Others remained silent, as though waiting to see where he was leading them.
The first to break the silence was a broad-shouldered boy with a hard expression. He stepped forward, radiating defiance, trying to prove his worth through his imposing posture.
"Ishar, from House Korven," he declared, his voice rough and strong for his age.
Zikron inclined his head slightly, a gesture of acknowledgment.
"Ishar. A name I know well. Your family is renowned for its strength."
Ishar seemed surprised by this recognition but stood tall, nodding slightly without replying.
A young girl stepped forward next, her dark hair braided and her sharp eyes studying Zikron with calculated intensity.
"Lira, House of Oren," she said simply, her voice clear but cold.
Zikron observed how she subtly withdrew after introducing herself—discreet, yet visibly capable.
"Oren... your defensive tactics are legendary." There was no irony in his voice, just a statement of fact. Lira raised an eyebrow, surprised he knew such details. She remained silent, but Zikron noted the interest in her gaze.
One by one, the others followed. Kael, Elya, Luthan... Each of the ten young warriors introduced themselves, some with confidence, others more hesitantly.
But they all shared one thing: they understood this was no mere game. Their lives were on the line, and they needed to rise to the challenge.
Once the introductions were complete, Zikron stepped forward slightly, his smile widening softly.
"We're here to survive, to win. Each of you has your strengths. I'm not here to impose my title."
He let his words hang in the air for a moment. Ester, standing beside him, glanced at the other children before murmuring to Zikron:
"Why tell them that? You could just lead them without asking for their opinion. You're the prince here."
Zikron slowly turned his head toward him, his smile thinning but no less confident.
"I could, yes. But I don't want them to follow me because I was born a prince. I want them to follow me because they know it's the best choice."
Ester frowned, skeptical. "And if they don't follow you?"
Zikron let out a light, controlled laugh.
"They will. Not out of fear, but because they'll see I can lead them to victory."
He then turned his gaze to the entire group.
"We don't have much time. We need a leader. Someone who can make the right decisions, even in the heat of battle. I won't impose myself. If anyone thinks they're more suited than me, speak now. We'll decide."
A silence fell over the group. Some appeared to seriously consider his offer, while others were clearly surprised by this approach.
Zikron could sense their hesitation. They knew it wasn't truly a choice, but the simple illusion of one was enough to reinforce their respect for him.
Ishar finally broke the silence, his voice rumbling like thunder:
"Why not you? You speak well, you seem confident... But can you really lead us to victory, Zikron?"
Zikron didn't blink. His gaze locked onto Ishar's, cold yet calm, a glimmer of unshakable confidence shining in his gray-blue eyes.
"I can. And I will. But it won't just be me. It will be us."
He paused, scanning their reactions.
"Ishar, you are strong, no doubt. But you know brute strength alone isn't enough. Lira, you are cunning, but you can't always hide behind defenses. We all have strengths, but it's only together that we can achieve victory."
He stepped back, giving them all a full view of him.
"Choose me if you wish. But know this: I won't lead alone. I want each of you to bring out the best you have to offer. That's how we will dominate."
A murmur ran through the group. Ester, beside him, smirked, impressed despite himself.
Zikron had a way of making people want to join him, or at least that was the impression Ester got. He didn't know these elite heirs personally, only by name, but he was sure of one thing: what set Zikron apart from the others was that he was inspiring, even in the little time he had observed him.
Finally, Lira spoke up.
"I'll follow you, Zikron. If you keep your word, we might just win this trial."
The others followed quickly. Ishar nodded, almost reluctantly, but he couldn't deny that Zikron had managed to unite them—if only for the moment. In a trial like this, unity was already a weapon in itself.
Zikron flashed a satisfied smile, but it wasn't arrogant. He knew he had won this first battle. But there was still a long road ahead. The true challenge wasn't rallying them here, in this room. The challenge would be leading them to victory in the arena.
The massive castle doors began to open slowly, revealing a cold and hostile landscape beyond. The trial was about to begin.
Zikron turned his head toward the throne, then back to his new allies.
"The road will be hard, but together, we will be invincible. I promise you that." His eyes gleamed with that unshakable determination that commanded admiration and respect.
He scanned the room and noticed silver armor a detail that would signify their colors.
He looked at Ester, and without needing words, Ester already knew what Zikron was thinking. He walked toward the throne and began distributing the armor with the help of Lira, Ishar, Elya, and Kael.
They each donned their armor, and excited murmurs could be heard.
Without another word, Zikron stepped forward into the open air, the other children following closely in his wake. The real game had just begun.
———
Zikron stood at the entrance of the castle, the icy wind whipping against his face as he gazed at the horizon. The pale light revealed a dark, merciless mountain landscape, dotted with watchtowers and half-ruined fortresses.
The terrain on which they were about to fight was anything but welcoming. Behind him, he could hear the murmurs of his comrades, feeling the growing impatience and tension among them. Everyone understood that the smallest mistake here could be fatal.
"We'll need to assign roles quickly," he said, his voice calm and authoritative, without turning around. "Some of us will stay at the bastion to defend it, while others will come with me to capture the strategic control points."
He turned to face them, his sharp gaze scanning each face. There was no room for doubt here, and he made sure they all understood that. Lira, as stoic as ever, stepped forward slightly.
"And what if one of the other teams attacks while we're split up?" she asked, her piercing eyes carefully assessing her options.
Zikron raised an eyebrow, as though he had already anticipated the question. "That's possible. Which is why we need to move quickly and act smart. Ishar, you and two others will defend the bastion. Lira, you'll come with me we're taking the first strategic point immediately."
Ester, who had remained silent until then, stepped forward. "And what if we walk into an ambush?"
Zikron allowed a faint smile, his gaze hardening. "Then we'll crush them. But we won't walk into an ambush," he replied, his voice carrying a calm certainty.
Control that was his true talent. It wasn't just about strategy or physical strength. It was about never letting doubt creep in.
"In case of an emergency, use the Aeros watch as a signal. If I don't respond, Ester will take command. Understood?"
The group nodded, each of them fully grasping the role they had been assigned. Zikron turned back toward the horizon, taking a deep breath before stepping into the uncertainty of the trial.
"This is where it all begins," he murmured to himself.
He gave a small nod to Lira and the others before striding toward the steep path leading to their first objective. Each of them knew this was only the start of a series of crucial decisions.
In the distance, the echoes of the first battles were already ringing out. Other teams had likely made their opening moves.
The real question remained: Who would take the lead in this trial?
Zikron advanced with a brisk pace, his thoughts focused on what came next. This trial wasn't just about brute strength. It was a game of strategy, control, and domination—and he knew it better than anyone.
However, as they neared a control point, a distant rumble echoed through the mountains. Lira slowed at his side, her eyes scanning the rocky terrain around them.
"What's that?" she asked.
Zikron didn't answer immediately, his gaze narrowing as he surveyed their surroundings. The terrain was more hostile than he had anticipated. A danger was approaching—but what kind of danger?
An unexpected event. An unforeseen threat? It hasn't even been thirty minutes, he thought.
"Stay on your guard," he said calmly. "It's starting."
Zikron watched the scene intently, his muscles taut like a predator ready to strike. Elyone, already engaged in a skirmish with an unknown group, appeared to have full control of his forces. Lira, standing beside him, broke the silence with a calm but cutting voice:
"We attack them by surprise and eliminate both groups? That would be the simplest way."
Their bastions didn't seem that far apart.
Ridiculous, really, to let this fight drag on especially with only two hours for the trial, Zikron thought.
Zikron scanned the surroundings, then, with a sharp gesture, sent six cadets ahead for reconnaissance. He wanted to strike hard and fast, claiming the territories of both groups in one decisive blow.
But a hesitation stopped him. Elyone commanded about twenty recruits, and judging by the discipline in his troops, he was likely the main force. But the other group?
It was impossible to tell who they belonged to.
The armor colors gave them a few clues. Zikron and his cadets wore silvery-gray uniforms, Elyone's group bore hazelnut-brown armor, while the group they were fighting wore sky blue.
Lira, who was scrutinizing Zikron and seemingly ready to speak, froze when a coded message flashed on her wrist communicator.
Her eyes narrowed as she read it.
"We're under attack already. And… it's coming from young master Lunar."
Zikron's brow furrowed. If Lunar was already at their bastion, then this group in front of me… it must be Ayla's.
There was no room for doubt anymore.
He turned his sharp gaze toward Lira and the other cadets, a cold smile forming on his lips as he declared:
"We'll finish these two groups quickly and take their territories."
He turned to Lira. "Take twelve cadets with you. Handle Elyone's territory. I'm counting on you to hold the zone."
Lira accepted the order without hesitation, giving a simple nod before rushing off with her troops toward the objective. Zikron watched her for a moment, then turned to Kael, a calculated gleam in his eyes.
"Kael, you'll take the group in sky blue. Five cadets with you. Can you handle it?"
Kael remained silent for a moment, a predatory grin creeping across his lips.
"No problem," he said, his tone charged with an almost provocative confidence.
Without a second's hesitation, Kael launched himself toward the group in blue armor like a predator freed from its cage.
He had been ordered to end this fight quickly, and he had no intention of holding back. His sword unsheathed, he targeted the first cadet he saw without hesitation. Kael came from an elite family of the Rea Kingdom, trained to kill from a young age.
Every strike was a testament to his ruthless training.
He brought his sword down with all his strength on the young adversary. But to his surprise, the cadet blocked the attack—not with the fear Kael had expected, but with impeccable control.
Kael's blade slid off the boy's weapon, deflected by a precise motion, and before he could react, a brutal kick struck his right leg.
Kael staggered, his balance shaken, his eyes fixed on this cadet who dared to stand his ground.
His opponent was smaller than him, brown curls falling over his forehead, partially hiding eyes as deep and unwavering as onyx stones.
Kael's face twisted under the strain of concentration.
"I'm Kael Volur. And you, who are you?" he spat, his voice sharp.
The boy sized him up for a moment before answering, as if calculating the weight of his words.
"Alex Rus." There wasn't a trace of hesitation in his voice.
Without wasting another second, Alex attacked again, his small hands gripping his sword tightly.
He swung quickly, targeting the same leg he had struck moments earlier. Kael dodged with agility and countered instantly, aiming for Alex's shoulder.
But his opponent was fast, anticipating the strike. Alex parried expertly and followed with a series of thrusts. Too slow. Kael dodged each one effortlessly.
With a brief glance, Kael noticed Alex's group of about fifteen cadets beginning to retreat. Overwhelmed by the surprise attack from Kael and his cadets, they now found themselves caught in a pincer movement with the other assault led by Elyone's forces. The panic was evident in their disorganized movements. They wouldn't last much longer.
Kael, his mind partially distracted by the broader tactical situation, lingered on the unfolding battle. Alex seized the opportunity. A well-aimed uppercut shot toward Kael's chin. But Kael blocked instinctively, without even looking, further infuriating Alex.
"You don't seem to be part of their group… So, who…?" Alex began, before falling silent abruptly.
His eyes fixed on a distant figure, where Elyone's forces were stationed.
A boy with caramel-colored skin and silver curls tied in a ponytail was advancing rapidly, accompanied by four other cadets. Even at this distance, Alex recognized him. He murmured, almost to himself:
"Zikron Zeta…"
A veil of seriousness passed over Alex's face. He turned his attention back to Kael, his opponent, sizing him up once again.
Kael, his messy black hair falling into his face, contrasted his sharp, precise movements. His light brown eyes, narrowed with focus, regarded Alex with wary intensity.
With a faint smile, Alex declared:
"Kael, right? I was ordered to report immediately if I encountered an heir… But it seems luck has abandoned me today. Two heirs in the same place."
He let out a nervous laugh, cursing himself internally. The situation had just become far more complicated than he'd imagined.