Elyone covered his group's rear, his eyes constantly scanning the surroundings. That's when he noticed a group clad in silver armor rushing toward them at an alarming speed. A frown appeared on his face as he immediately recognized, without a shred of doubt, who was leading the charge. But that frown quickly gave way to a wide grin, full of amusement and anticipation.
"ZIKRON!" he shouted, his voice bursting with joy.
Zikron returned the smile, almost involuntarily, though his words were far from lighthearted.
"No time for reunions, Elyone. We need to fight."
Elyone's eyebrows furrowed again, this time with a mock look of disapproval. Crossing his arms and wagging his finger from left to right like a teacher scolding a student, he replied in a teasing tone:
"Still as serious as ever, huh? It's been ages since we last saw each other. You're really going to waste this on fighting me?"
Without waiting for a response, Elyone turned to one of his comrades, giving a subtle nod to signal an attack on one of Zikron's group members.
A provocative smile played on his lips as he added, "Let's start with a little test. Let's see whose group is stronger yours or mine."
Zikron, though tempted to refuse and end this quickly, couldn't help but take on the challenge.
The blood of competition ran through his veins, and he never backed down from a fight.
So, he nodded and watched as one of his cadets stepped forward to accept Elyone's challenge. Around them, the other children formed a circle, eager to see the duel unfold.
"I am Victore of House Marh," declared Elyone's partner, his voice brimming with pride and arrogance.
His opponent, more reserved, simply replied, "Kyle of Zeyos. That's all."
Victore narrowed his eyes. He, a child of one of the most influential elite families, was facing a cadet with no prestigious family name. He cast a quick glance at Zikron, hoping to see even a flicker of concern on his face.
But Zikron remained indifferent, his expression as unmoving as stone. Frustration flared in Victore. He's underestimating me, he thought, clenching his fists tightly.
Kyle, on the other hand, felt the nerves rise. He wasn't just fighting for his own future but for his prince's reputation as well. I have to win. No. I will win. He couldn't afford to fail.
Without hesitation, Kyle lunged, his fist aiming straight for Victore's face.
But Victore dodged effortlessly, redirecting Kyle's strength against him with a fluid technique that sent him crashing to the ground.
"Aikido?" Zikron murmured, recognizing the precision of Victore's movements.
Elyone, still relaxed, whistled in response. "Sharp eye. You recognized it immediately." Then, keeping the conversation light, he added, "How have you been, my friend?"
Looking Zikron up and down, Elyone smirked before continuing with mock pride:
"You're still lacking style, you know. You should take notes from me."
Zikron let out a soft laugh, momentarily shifting his gaze from the fight to fix Elyone with a look of mild disbelief.
"Why did you style your hair like that? Two buns on your head? Seriously?"
Elyone burst out laughing, clearly amused by the remark. "You just don't understand fashion, Zikron," he replied with a confident smile, as if his hairstyle were the height of imperial court fashion.
Zikron rolled his eyes, the familiar exasperation that Elyone always inspired surfacing once more, but he quickly turned his attention back to Kyle.
Kyle lay on the ground, his eyes fixed on the sky, stunned by how swiftly he had been knocked down. Mud clung to his clothes, his hair was filthy, but even in this state, he didn't look ready to give up.
Zikron gritted his teeth. He just needs to buy time, he thought, his gaze darkening. Lira must be close to Elyone's stronghold by now.
Kyle, still on the ground, watched as the sky seemed to darken. Before he could react, Victore swung a powerful punch aimed straight at his head. In a desperate reflex, Kyle planted his feet and pushed Victor back with a sudden shove, scrambling back to his feet as quickly as he had fallen.
"Predictable," Victor growled, anticipating the move. But his eyes widened at the last moment it was just a feint. The real strike slammed into his ribs with unexpected force. A sickening crack, followed by a choked gasp, marked the impact. A trickle of spit escaped Victor's mouth, betraying the agony coursing through him.
Kyle wasted no time. Brutal and methodical, his blows rained down relentlessly on Victor: ribs, face, legs.
He wanted to break him. Yet Victor didn't fall. Straightening himself, he wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth and smiled.
"Alright, I underestimated you. That was my mistake."
With a sharp right hook, he struck Kyle square in the jaw. Kyle staggered, but Victor didn't stop.
A left punch followed, crashing into him with full force. Too slow to react, Kyle collapsed to his knees, his breath ragged.
Victor, panting as well, cast a glance at the two heirs before turning silently and heading back toward Elyone's group.
Elyone, beaming with satisfaction, flashed Zikron a triumphant smile. "Looks like I won."
But before he could fully savor his victory, his communicator vibrated with a new notification. His expression shifted instantly.
"We're under attack… by a group in silver armor. A girl is leading them."
Elyone's brows furrowed as he turned to face Zikron. "So that was your plan? Win quickly and then run to join her, huh? But you forgot one thing."
Zikron crossed his arms, a calm smile playing on his lips. "I planned for this. Why do you think you're being attacked?"
"Aren't you being attacked as well?" Elyone shot back.
"Think carefully, my friend."
A wide grin spread across Elyone's face, but realization hit Zikron like a thunderclap.
"He never said he was being attacked. How does he know?"
An alliance. The group attacking them… they had formed an alliance with Elyone. A cold shiver of rage ran through Zikron, though he let none of it show.
"I thought I was buying time for Lira," he realized. "But in truth, he's the one keeping me here, so I can't go help Ester. He's trapped me."
Zikron's silence only widened Elyone's mocking grin. He looked at Zikron with an ironic gleam in his eyes.
"So, do you still want to fight, young dragon?" he teased.
Zikron burst out with sincere laughter, shaking his head. He locked eyes with Elyone, the fire of challenge burning brightly in his gaze.
"Yes. This is exactly how it should be. Otherwise, it wouldn't be fun. You and me, right here, right now, with no one else." His voice was steady, almost commanding, and a wide smile lit up his face.
Behind him, his group, who had been tense until now, relaxed slightly. They knew their leader the young dragon of the Zetas was not one to back down. They had seen his strength with their own eyes in the previous trial. Against Elyone or any other heir, they had no doubts: Zikron would prove his supremacy once again.
——
Kael, still facing Alex, leapt into the air to deliver the final blow. With a swift spin, he dodged Alex's sword, positioning himself behind him with blistering precision. In one fluid motion, the tip of his blade came to rest against Alex's neck. Feeling the cold steel, Alex dropped his weapon and raised his hands in surrender, panting heavily.
"I've lost," he said bitterly. The fight had been grueling. Though Alex was more creative and unpredictable in his attacks, Kael had demonstrated superior mastery. Victory might have slipped through Kael's fingers had Alex been a little faster, but the result was clear.
Kael, equally breathless, tried to mask the fatigue weighing down his muscles. The duel had been more exhausting than he'd anticipated. In a deep voice, he asked, "Who is your leader?" He needed to know who this group belonged to before deciding his next move.
Alex remained silent for a moment, catching his breath. Then, a familiar vibration from his communicator brought a faint smile to his exhausted face. He looked up at Kael, calm despite his defeat.
"The princess is coming," he murmured, an indecipherable glint in his eyes.
A few minutes earlier, before the end of Alex and Kael's fight.
Seated on her throne, Ayla stared into the void with a detached, bored expression. Her instructions had been given, orders dispatched, and a squad sent to seize the nearest territory. Twenty-five minutes had passed, and Sery was discussing strategy with the rest of the group.
Despite the irritation Ayla often caused her, Sery had to admit that, as a leader, the heir had made indisputable choices. Surprisingly, Ayla had appointed Sery as her right hand, entrusting her with the task of relaying orders and organizing the team.
Ten minutes earlier, a message had arrived from Alex: he was in the middle of a battle against Elyone's group but had been ambushed by Zikron's forces.
Sery, boiling with frustration, wanted to rush to his aid immediately, but Ayla, ever impassive, declared: "It would be pointless to intervene now. Zikron will likely turn against Elyone. Let them exhaust themselves. We'll act in twenty-five minutes."
The team members exchanged perplexed looks, their faces tightening with confusion. They didn't approve of abandoning one of their commanders. Sery, equally frustrated by the inaction, snapped: "You're going to let your officer get taken down when we have the ability to rescue him?" The tension in the room escalated, the atmosphere growing heavier by the second.
Ayla, still serene, snapped her fingers, and the rules of the trial appeared in the air. "Did any of you bother to read the instructions?" she asked in a calm tone.
"Every thirty minutes, an unforeseen event is triggered. I'm not abandoning Alex.
But if we intervene now, we risk losing our advantage. Who here, besides me, can match Zikron or Elyone?"
A heavy silence settled. Her words hit home. Then she continued, her voice laced with slight impatience, though her expression remained as cold as ever: "You're stupid. So incredibly stupid." She sighed. "Think further. By fighting each other, the two groups will weaken themselves. When the unexpected event occurs, they may not be able to handle it. But we will. Because we'll have conserved our strength. We'll step in at the last moment to save Alex Rus, just before they believe they've won. We'll shatter their illusion of superiority."
The team members, listening intently, suddenly grasped the depth of the plan.
Though they were all the same age as Ayla, her ability to think tactically seemed far more advanced.
Sery, still reluctant to leave Alex in trouble, had to admit that Ayla's strategy was flawless. Her plan, though cold and calculating, was the best option.
She felt a pang of guilt for Alex, who had been used as bait, but it was necessary.
Though she didn't show it, a sense of respect for the heir of West began to grow within her.