After Cenn had been taken to the healer's office and his wound treated, Mr. Renol decided to relieve him of his pain by giving him a tincture of red enchantress petals.

Cenn was glad, the potion worked as it should, and the pain receded almost immediately. But after a few minutes he felt his eyelids growing heavy and his thoughts confused. He fell asleep on the bench in the healer's office.

...

"Hey, Cenn. Wake up! Are you deaf?"

"Why don't we pour water on him? That usually works for me."

Slap!

"Hey, you're hitting him too hard. You could knock his teeth out."

"Quit nagging, old fart."

[...]

Opening his eyes Cenn saw Hog and teacher Innodeus in front of him.

"What happened?" Perplexed, he asked.

"The Bishop's speech is about to begin, we need to hurry, child." Replied teacher.

"What, already? How long have I been asleep?" Cenn was perplexed.

"You've been asleep for almost three hours. All the fighting has long since ended."

"Stop lying around. If we're late Velin and old toad Mizra are going to start bitching." Hog pulled Cenn by the arm, forcing him up from the bench.

"That's it. That's it. I'm up now. Don't pull me, Uncle Hog."

"Hurry up kiddo, we can't be late for the bishop's speech." Innodeus continued to recite.

The trio said goodbye to Doctor Renol and headed towards the temple.

"Damn it, I'll have to listen to those boring stories again from that senile old marasmatic Ardul. He tells the same story over and over again." Cenn expressed his displeasure.

"Bishop Ardul is a gifted orator and an honorable theologian, you should not speak of him in such a disrespectful tone." Teacher Innodeus reprimanded him.

"Ahahahaaaaa, a dog's ass would make a better theologian than old man Ardulus. You're the only one in the whole town who can match him for love of drinking and gambling. So don't make such a righteous face trying to protect your drinking buddy, you can't fool us, Old Fart." Hog answered him wryly.

The fatty's words hurt the old teacher, but he only muttered something to himself as he continued walking toward the temple.

After a few minutes, they saw a large crowd of people surrounding the Martial Emperor Temple in front of them. Among which they quickly found a group of people from the Bael and Orist clans, who they immediately headed towards.

"How was your fight, Aydor?"

Without waiting to be noticed Cenn decided to get the latest news, turning to the young man from afar, drawing the attention of the entire group.

"Cenn, you're finally back. How are you feeling?" Velin interjected, not allowing his son to answer.

"I'm fine, Uncle Velin. The pain is gone now." Replied Cenn.

"Hm. Not only did you let yourself get hurt, but you made a spectacle of rolling around on the floor over such a small wound. You dishonored not only..." Mizra Orist tried to chide Cenn.

"You old toad, if you don't shut your mouth yourself, I'll shut it with the dirt lying under my feet." But Hog immediately stopped him.

Tension hung in the air.

"Cenn, I'm glad you're all right. I won the fight, as you advised I got him in a clinch and knocked him out with a head kick." Not wanting the conflict to escalate Aydor tried to turn the attention to himself.

Velin nodded approvingly to his son.

"Yes the fight was short but exciting. Too bad you missed it. I'm sure Rehadal didn't expect it to turn into a fist fight." Velin continued to steer the conversation in a safe direction.

"Yeah, he'll remember that for a long time." Aydor seconded.

The temple doors opened and a young deacon stepped out.

"Attention! Today's speech is canceled. You may disperse. However, I ask all participants of the tournament and heads of honored families to go to the Temple. Bishop Ardul is holding a private reception today on the occasion of the visit of an elder from the Iron Fist Sect."

This announcement caused a commotion in the crowd gathered in front of the temple. Usually, every major event in the city was accompanied by the Bishop's speech in the main square, during which he usually told a few stories from the life of the First Martial Emperor.

Stories that everyone in the empire had known since childhood. Few people were interested in the speeches themselves. But rarely did anyone dare to miss them, as it was a rare opportunity to present a donation to the Temple and personally greet the Bishop.

"Aydor, follow me, we need to get better seats." - Cenn saw Mizra grab Aydor by the arm and pull him towards the entrance, bustling through the agitated crowd.

The visit of the sect elder was an important event for the city. Every year, the Iron Fist Sect held a martial arts tournament in many cities throughout the principality. Strengthening their reputation in the region and building ties with the local elites. But Cenn was sure that in past years, the ones in charge of the tournaments were the junior deacons or disciples of the sect.

"Cenn, we should hurry up too." Velin said and headed towards the Temple. And Cenn only had to follow his uncle.

Soon the whole square was bustling with activity. Those who had the right to enter the temple hurried to take better seats. Those who could not enter complained about the injustice of fate and crowded around the windows of the temple, hoping to see what was going on inside.

Cenn followed Velin inside the temple.

As they made their way through the crowd surrounding the temple they found themselves at the huge doors leading into the temple.

The temple guards and deacons respectfully greeted them and a couple others who passed inside.

The few who were allowed to be present in the temple were well known in the city.

There were only eight honored clans in Heartglen.

There were also three other honored families living in the vast area within the city's sphere of influence. As a result, the heads of the eleven clans and the sixteen people participating in the tournament could freely enter the Temple.

"Cenn go sit with Aydor and I'll keep old man Orist company."

As soon as they entered one of the Temple servants pointed Velin to the richly set tables standing in a semicircle in the center of the Temple. Fifteen luxurious armchairs were attached to the tables.

At the same time, another servant pointed Cenn to another part of the hall where there were many mats on the floor. And several people were already sitting there waiting for dinner to begin. One of them was Aydor, and it was to him that Cenn headed.

"I can't believe they put us on the floor."

As soon as Cenn sat down, Aydor voiced his resentment.

Almost all of the young men and women present came from the honored clans of the city and were used to a certain level of comfort. And now they were forced to sit on rough straw mats, watching a bunch of old men munch on delicacies while sitting at a table.

"Come on Aydor, it's not that bad. Or is your pampered ass not ready for that harsh ordeal?"

A young man sitting nearby didn't miss the chance to tease Aydor.

The honored families not only jointly ran the city, but they were constantly in contact with each other conducting business. So many of the young men present had known each other for a long time. And far from always these acquaintances were pleasant.

"Mirek, I realize that a stray dog like you is used to being treated like this. Poor thing. I'd explain, but I doubt you know what the word self-respect means."

Several people sitting nearby chuckled quietly as they heard Aydor's stiff reply. One of them was Cenn.

And Mirek, at whose address the tirade was thrown only snickered irritably, not wanting to lose face.

"Hey, Cenn, I heard the fight against Bavin was hard on you. I still don't get it, what's the story with the poison?"

Aydor and Cenn were finally away from their families and could talk in peace.

"You'd better ask Bavin. I didn't understand a damn thing myself. But the pain was terrible. If I'd known it was going to be like that, I'd have just fried the asshole with lightning."

Bavin, sitting with his head bandaged a few feet away from Cenn, threw him an angry look, but remained silent.

"I'm afraid the opponents will be even stronger in the next fight. So you should be more careful." Said Aydor.

Cenn leaned over to Aydor and barely audibly, so that the others couldn't hear him, asked.

"Speaking of rivals? What's the deal with Krinnel?"

Of all the people participating in the tournament, Krinnel Faro was the one who was best known and most respected in the town.

Primarily because of his reputation as a skillful hunter. In his sixteen years, he had hunted alone in Corbwood and always returned with rich prey.

And the second reason was that he was not affiliated with any of the honored clans, and relied on his talent to form two seals.

''Nothing unexpected, he easily defeated his opponents. Grandfather said that in both fights, he only used the Shield Sigil and his saber. So it's not clear what we can expect from him."

Aydor replied just as quietly, not letting those around him know the topic of their conversation.

"Hmm, I thought he was coming to the tournament with a bow as well."

While the young men were discussing their opponent, a short old man with a balding head, a gaunt face, and huge bags under his eyes entered the hall.

Everything in his appearance gave away the appearance of an inveterate drunkard. He moved stealthily toward the pulpit in short strides and was halfway across before he was noticed. One by one, the elders of the honored clans and the tournament participants jumped up from their seats and bowed respectfully toward the old man.

Bishop Ardul was nominally the most powerful man in the city, but fortunately for the honored clans, he was not interested in the intrigues of the local clans or controlling the trade routes. His true passion was wine and women. And as long as the local clans donated enough money to support his debauched lifestyle, he did not interfere in the affairs of the city.

Upon finally reaching the pulpit, the bishop addressed the crowd.

"Greetings, my dear guests." Said the old man in a soft but loud voice.