"Ouch!" Maxs cried out as the jet-black Claymore slipped from his grip, clattering to the ground. He winced, rubbing his wrist, confused by what had just happened. His frustration was palpable—he had been at this for hours.

"That was a typical example of 'Soulforce Repel,'” Ryn said, her tone tinged with mild amusement. “You’re focusing too much on the blade as an object, not as an extension of yourself. That’s why your own Soulforce is rejecting it.”

Maxs glanced up at her, still clutching his sore wrist. "Soulforce Repel? That’s a thing?"

Ryn crossed her arms, her sharp gaze softening slightly. "Yeah, it happens when you haven’t fully bonded with your weapon. Right now, you and that Claymore aren’t in sync. But don't worry." She gave him a reassuring nod. "When you learn to channel your Soulforce properly, it'll be worth the struggle. You’ll see."

Maxs looked down at his Claymore again, its dark metal gleaming in the midday sun. It had only been a few days since he had awakened his Soulforce, and even though it was exhilarating, it was also overwhelming. The weight of it—both the sword and the responsibility—felt heavy in his hands.

"Do you think I'll make it?" he asked, his voice quieter than before. "Can I really be ready to participate in The Spectacle?"

Ryn raised an eyebrow. "Is that all you want? To participate?" She flashed a teasing smile, but there was something deeper in her gaze, like she could see straight through him.

Maxs hesitated. For a moment, his mind was flooded with fleeting images—fragments of a life he couldn’t quite remember. Shadows of faces, echoes of voices from a past he barely knew, haunted the edges of his thoughts. The only thing he was certain of in this world was the burning desire to uncover the truth.

"No." He finally spoke, his voice firmer now. "I don’t just want to participate. I want to win. I need to know why I’m here... why I was brought to this place. I want my wish to be fulfilled."

Ryn's smile widened, her expression softening into one of approval. “That’s more like it. You’ve got fire in you, Maxs. Hold onto that.”

"We’ve got a year," Ryn continued, her voice taking on a more serious tone. "And the goal is to win the national treasure of Alcatross: ‘Adam’s Wish.’"

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

Maxs nodded. The gravity of it all was beginning to sink in. The Spectacle wasn’t just a tournament—it was the only way he might get answers.

Ryn stretched, looking up at the sky as if lost in thought. "Next year marks the 100th anniversary of The Spectacle, and things are about to get real intense."

Maxs tilted his head, curious. "How so?"

Ryn’s gaze darkened. “It’s not just the usual heavyweights competing—people like Jack Giant, Kokoro the Beast Slayer, and Sora the Sky Dragon. This year, it’ll be different. Do you know why no one has ever won The Spectacle in a hundred years?”

Maxs shook his head, his interest piqued. He had never thought about it, but it seemed impossible that, for an entire century, not a single competitor had emerged victorious.

Ryn's eyes met his, a mixture of challenge and concern in her gaze. “The one who ends up with the most points during the season has to fight the strongest member of the Alcatross royal family in a final, secret battle.”

Maxs blinked, confused. "The royal family?"

"Yeah," Ryn continued, her tone deadly serious now. "For the last five years, it’s been the king’s eldest son, Nero Alcatross, who’s fought in those final matches. He’s no ordinary fighter. No one really knows what happens in those battles because they’re held behind closed doors."

Maxs felt a chill run down his spine. The idea of facing someone that powerful was daunting, but it also intrigued him. “Why keep it secret?”

"No one knows," Ryn replied, her voice low. "But if you want to win, you'll have to face him. That’s the challenge no one’s overcome yet."

Maxs swallowed hard. It was starting to make sense why The Spectacle had no winners. The tournament was only the beginning—the real test lay at the end, against a member of the royal family who wielded unimaginable power.

Ryn clapped her hands, breaking the tension. "But hey, we’re not going to get anywhere by just talking about it. Let’s get back to work."

Maxs straightened up, shaking off the lingering unease. He bent down, picking up his Claymore with renewed determination. He wasn’t just fighting to survive—he was fighting to win. And that meant mastering his Soulforce.

"We’ll start with some swordplay basics,” Ryn said, her voice more practical now. “It’s just as important to improve your technique as it is to hone your Soulforce. I know someone who can help us with that."

"An old friend?" Maxs asked, sensing a hint of nostalgia in her voice.

Ryn nodded, her expression softening for a moment. "Yeah. He’s not easy to impress, but if anyone can help you master your weapon, it’s him."

Maxs tightened his grip on his Claymore, feeling the weight of the journey ahead. There was no turning back now. Not from The Spectacle, not from the battle that awaited him, and certainly not from the truth that had brought him to this world.

“Let’s go,” he said, his voice steady, his resolve hardening like steel.

Ryn flashed him a grin. "Battle on, Maxs."

With that, they set off into the heart of Alcatross, where challenges beyond his imagination awaited him. And as the towering spires of the city loomed above, Maxs knew that this was just the beginning of his long road to Adam’s Wish.