Only two days after the announcement, the Kingdom had become a full-blown explosion of mixed emotions. Enthusiasm, criticism, and curiosity ran through them like a spilling wave of monsters from a Rift. Of course, the news of the upcoming tournament leaked to the general public well before the eighteen hours it took for the Crown to make the official announcement to them. The nobility of Cindrus was many things, but it could not be kept a secret for long.
Overall, the reaction was surprisingly enthusiastic. After so long thinking they were the only humans left in this world, for many common people, there was a sense of shared camaraderie and wonder—or, maybe, that was the atmosphere encouraged by the crown.
Though Erec couldn’t see it, Dame Robin mentioned that many were wary of what was happening and didn’t trust the outsiders.
Regardless, the day after, classes were not productive because students were asking about the tournament. As a result, the Academy posted an immediate five-day break in lessons to coordinate their staff on how to process the flood of Initiate and Knight Errant requests to participate.
Faced with a break, Erec chose to head back underground and perform his noble duties: he owed Cavern Seven.
But he didn’t go alone. Colin and Garin accompanied him this time; Colin was a given since he’d taken to using Erec’s new laboratory for his Mysticism research, but to Erec’s surprise, his best friend asked to tag along, as Olivia had made plans with Enide for a camping trip.
The people of Cavern Seven had their own odd way of celebrating the tournament’s announcement. His return was met with his banner—that of the White Stag overlaid on a purple Vortex Industries logo—plastered to walls, hung from flags, and even painted on the glass; every corner and person he walked by shouted out encouragement as he and his friends headed toward his manor. His effect on the merchants and reinvesting in his people had bought him a lot of goodwill; and the general morale of having a Kingdom’s hero as their count;
If he had any lingering doubts about the fact that he had to join the tournament, this dispelled them. He was their hero.
His joining and winning was their forgone conclusion.
The winning part… He wasn’t so confident about, but that wasn’t what mattered.
With the rampant enthusiasm in his cavern, Erec saw no dissenting voices to the tournament. No one was panicking about outsiders within their walls. They trusted him to lead them with unwavering Strength.
The three passed under a large banner across the road from balconies on the third floor of the stone-brick houses on the Seventh Cavern’s main street. In bold black lettering, it said, “WELCOME HOME, FUTURE VICTOR OF THE TOURNEY.” An old man on one of the balconies hosting the sign saw them, gawked, and then called back through the open door to his family.
“As if Erec shall win the tourney,” Colin scoffed.
“It’s likely; odds are on him, the Prince, Bedwyr, his brother, and a handful of promising Knight Errants,” Garin replied smoothly.
“Don’t you dare mention Prince Soren in front of me. As I said, there is no chance Erec will see victory in the tournament since I shall be competing after all.”
At that, Erec stopped. Flicking a look at Colin and raising an eyebrow. It was a silent question, but he didn’t think the point was missed. Wanna take back those words?
Colin gave him a deeper scowl in reply.
“Alright then. I’ll bite. What in the Goddess-scorched-earth, makes you think you’d win against me? If I were you, I don’t think I’d even be concerned about winning but focused on my chance to beat the royal, who I shall not name in front of you,” Erec tried not to be cocky. But it was Colin. Some deep part of him couldn’t help but shine in response to that, and out of all the people he had the potential to face… Colin wasn’t high on the list he was worried about in a contest of power.
“For one, it is a tournament against humans. A brute like you cannot refine your tactics and efficiently reign in your clumsy power enough to use it practically. Let us not pretend this isn’t your weak point. As annoying as the Prince is fluffing his ego in public, he does have a correct argument. But perhaps the meaning of his challenge went above your brutish brain. So let me say it clearly, friend, so you’re prepared. You will have trouble against humans. These are not monsters whom you do not have to worry about killing. This is why, with my preparation and cutting-edge spell craft, I will win against you with my magic. A tool far more directed and adaptable to the circumstances.”
[Wow. Colin just called you out and has a valid argument for once. Dang, buckeroo, I’m insulted on your behalf. Should we offer him an internship so we can bully him by making him get you drinks?]
Erec just stared back at Colin and worked his jaw.
“…Yeah, I suppose you could see that bit about Soren not having difficulty beating a man who becomes a monster might’ve had that implication,” Garin said.
“What did I say about using his name before me?” Colin quickly shouted at him.
Erec looked back up at the banner behind him—and saw the old man and the rest of the family were now there. A young man and his wife were next to their grandfather. The young woman had stark black hair and a child at her hip, with another tucked in her elbow. All of them were busy waving down at him from up there as he looked up. And why wouldn’t they? His count? Their Hero? These people believed he would keep them safe and win the tournament.
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
Colin was right. Participating would have its challenges—someone like Bedwyr would have an easier time with his talent in those conditions, as his Talent was less directly geared toward turning its user into a killing machine.
Winning would be difficult.
But when had Erec shyed from difficulty?
“It doesn’t matter. I’ll win.” Erec said, “And if I don’t, I’ll have given it my all.”
“Aren’t you afraid of hurting someone?” Garin asked.
“Of course I am, but I’m not letting fear control me. My talent is no longer new to me, and though my control of it isn’t perfect, it’s nothing that I’m afraid of any longer. Nor is it some grand secret I’ve kept from the Kingdom. If I lose control, then I suppose I’ll have to request that it’s a forfeit on my behalf,” Erec let out a deep sigh. Of course, given time to think about it, he had to consider how to approach this safely.
They didn’t know all the rules, but he was sure Boldwick—or someone higher up on that matter—would consider his ability and what it brought out in him. He just hoped that consideration wouldn’t make them forbid his entry. After giving a slight wave to the people above, he and the rest of his group continued deeper into Cavern Seven, following the cleanly laid out main brick road—lit by glowing lamps at the end of simple black-metal poles, with stores decorating most of the scenery on the first level.
“Despite what he may believe, for that oh-so-obvious reason, I’m rested and assured that I will prevail against rust-bucket. None shall stand in the way of facing my mortal nemesis, the crowned prince,” Colin declared.
Garin let out a small laugh at that, which earned him a sharp glare from Colin.
But Colin wasn’t done. He swapped the target of his ire from Erec straight to Garin, who dared laugh at him. “Inevitable loss or not, at least rust-bucket sees fit to try his hand at the tournament. Even if it will result in his embarrassment. Yet here I am, staring at a coward with insufficient spine to try. Or do you think that your hiding away from committing to this would slip beneath the notice of my discerning eyes? I didn’t take you for a coward, Garin. But I suppose those of lower stations are more prone to cowardice since they do not have to rise to face the difficult things their stations demand from them.”
At this, Garin stopped, yanked Colin by the shoulder, and shoved him against the store's wall. Inside the store, Erec could see several of his people turn in alarm.
“I’m not taking that crap from you.”
“Then prove me wrong, coward.”
“I don’t need to prove anything.”
“Do you think that this is set to impress me? Acting tough and mighty? That is not your place, baron’s son. And if you’re going to act without dignity that befits a higher station, then I see no reason to treat you with such.” Colin continued.
“Me? Coward? That’s rich coming from a guy who was afraid of bugs—“
“That fear has been faced time and time again, yet it is you who refuses to commit to a simple harmless tournament? Pitiful. How proud your family must be of you, Garin Honestus. When you finish playing as a Knight, I wonder, shall you proudly fiddle away what remains of your life as a glorified manager to the bio-caverns while Erec and I make legends of our names?”
Erec sucked in a breath, feeling his blood start to rush at the conflict. The two stared at each other, hate swirling in their eyes. Most of the time, Garin didn’t take their more abrasive friend seriously, but… Yeah, Colin wasn’t holding back the verbal punches today, not after being angered by the prince.
If Erec were in Garin’s shoes…
Well, maybe that’s why Colin had chosen to let out his frustration on Garin and not Erec. While harsh toward Erec, he was careful not to cross any true lines, not like this. Colin was trying to cut deep.
“Damn you.” And Garin shot a glare at Erec. “…And damn you too. The both of you. Fine, if you’re both not going to stop talking about this, then FINE. I’ll compete. For whatever good it does. A waste of time.”
Colin smirked at him, the anger vanishing off his face. “Pressure is good. I knew you would fold, and now we have another chance to place that lowly prince in his spot. The only thing more fitting for him to be crushed under my heel would be to suffer a loss at the hands of a baron’s son.”
Garin gave him a look of pure horror, realizing Colin had plucked his strings like a guitar.
“I’d intended to work at Erec’s new facility this weekend if this ploy failed, but considering things… Erec, would you mind sparing your resources to foster a training environment? There is a long road ahead of us until the tournament, but if I am to crush Prince Soren, I must ensure that I crush him with such enthusiasm and might that the spoiled curr never thinks to look me or my family’s way again.”
Erec ran a hand through his hair, looking between Colin's beaming expression and Garin's horrified realization. His friend was still processing that he’d been played socially by Colin, of all people.
“You want to train?” Erec asked.
“I wish to train in a way we’ve never trained before,” Colin confirmed.
“…Alright. But I want commitment from both of you right now. No matter how hard this training is, we see it through to the end; these five days, we will give it our all. No quitting. No matter what.
Erec decided to push it, ideas already running through his head—for now, he had both Colin and Garin on board. But he needed commitment. Colin might be appalled by the harshness of what Erec sought—or Garin might double back on his promise given enough time.
Hell, all of this training might not be useful at all for the tournament. There was a chance the Kingdom never managed to reach the tourney to begin with.
But these days of direct training could be immeasurably valuable if they could wring out every ounce of effort Erec could get out of these two. They might lead to more time training—or, in these hours themselves, if motivated properly, might make all the difference between life or death on a battlefield.
“Easy commitment. I shall train without limits. With all my considerable talent, it shall be an easy thing.” Colin answered.
“I already said I’m in,” Garin replied. That should be enough. Of course, I’ll see this academic break through to the end.”
“Then it’s settled,” Erec turned on his heel, walking back the way they’d come. No longer headed toward his manor. No. Things had changed. Colin sought him out as the one to train them, but Erec knew full well that he wasn’t the right person to truly understand how to push them to their limits.
That evil Goddess above willing, there was one person who would know. Hopefully, that person wouldn’t have his hands too full to spare these five days to take advantage of the commitment his two friends had just thrown into Erec’s hands.
With his friends in tow, Erec doubled back. From the Seventh Cavern, back to the surface, and through the bustling and growing city above. It was still sunny, early in the morning. The sky was a bright blue with happy clouds floating above. It was a fantastic way to mark the start of a short break that was likely to be a time of relaxation for most of the Academy's initiates. For them, though, it would surely not be. Erec suspected that if the man were willing to help, this would be a hellish 120 hours.
Together, they strode through the city’s paved roads, to the dirt roads of the outskirt, back onto the paved cobblestone that led to the Academy, and then straight to Boldwick’s office.