Xyenn stood in the midst of the four snow-armored warriors, their presence crackling with an energy that was different from the bandits he had just slaughtered. They exuded confidence, strength, and something almost predatory. As they circled him, inspecting the carnage he left behind, Xyenn’s mind raced, though his face remained unreadable. ‘Are they onto me?!’ he wondered.

The halberd-wielder, still grinning like a wolf that had cornered prey, was the first to speak again. “Ah, where are my manners? Let me introduce us, since it looks like we’re gonna be friends for a while.” He twirled his halberd once and rested it on his broad shoulders, his ice-blue eyes flicking between the bodies on the ground and Xyenn. “Name’s Skaris. We’re warriors of King Haldrek, blessed by the draconic deity of snow, Kragvyr.”

He lifted his chin slightly, as if basking in his own self-importance. “Yeah, that Kragvyr. The one whose breath can freeze entire mountains. We get our magic directly from him. Pretty cool, huh? But I’m pretty sure you know that already.” He winked, clearly enjoying his own wordplay. “Anyway, we were wondering why our knight patrol was taking so long to report back. Guess we know why now, huh?” His grin widened as he gestured to the mutilated corpses beneath Xyenn’s feet. “These stupid bandits killed them, and so you killed the bandits. Based on what I’m seeing, it had to be at least 50 of them! You’re no regular kid aren’t you?”

Xyenn said nothing, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studied Skaris. He could feel the tension in his own body, his muscles still coiled from the fight, his mind spinning as he tried to process this new development.

‘They’re warriors of Haldrek…’ he thought, his heart beating a little faster. He swallowed hard. If they found out that his ultimate goal was to kill Kragvyr, this could get dangerous quickly. ‘They’re all staring at me so hard…like they’re staring into my soul, trying to read me or something! Also, do they not care about that patrol? They know they were killed by those bandits, but they don’t even frown about it or anything!’

The massive man with the warhammer stepped forward next, cracking his neck with a loud pop and crossing his thick, muscular arms over his chest. “The name’s Dreugan.” His voice was a deep rumble, like an avalanche starting to form. His armor was bulkier than the others, the edges lined with thick, white fur, and his warhammer—almost as tall as he was—crackled with icy runes. “I don’t care much for introductions, but I guess I’ll humor ya. We’re the king’s elite. When he wants something done, we do it. Simple as that. But lately, we’ve been babysitting.”

He glanced down at the bodies, his lip curling in mild amusement. “Looks like you’ve got some fight in you, kid. Shame we didn’t get here sooner. I was hoping for a little warm-up.” His grin spread slowly, like ice creeping across a frozen lake. “Guess you’ll have to do as a substitute.”

Xyenn stiffened slightly at the word “kid.”

‘Kid?’ he thought. ‘They really see me as just a kid? After killing 50 bandits, I’m still a kid in their eyes? I’m tired of hearing that, honestly.’

The woman with the long, silver braid, standing slightly apart from the others, rolled her eyes. “Oh, please, Dreugan, you and your warm-ups…” Her voice was smooth but laced with impatience. She kicked one of the dead bandits with a booted foot, sending the body sliding a few inches through the bloodstained snow. “Ellyra,” she said, introducing herself with a casual wave of her hand. Her twin daggers were still sheathed at her sides, but Xyenn could sense the deadly precision in her movements. Her armor was sleek and fitted, the snow-white and light-blue plating gleaming in the faint light. “And like Skaris said, we’re the king’s finest. Or at least we’re supposed to be. Fuck it…”

She sighed dramatically, crouching down to examine one of the dead bandits’ faces. It was frozen in a grotesque scream, eyes glassy, blood frozen in a jagged line across his throat. “Honestly, I’m more bored than anything else. King Haldrek hasn’t given us anything interesting to do in weeks. He’s so caught up in the upcoming war against the god of war and their allied kingdoms. Just the usual patrols, killing shit—nothing exciting.” She straightened up and kicked the body again, this time with more force, sending it skidding across the snow. “And now we’ve gotta go report to the king and queen about these dead losers?” She gestured at the pile of corpses. “What a waste of time. That patrol was worthless.”

The last of the group, the lithe man with the dark-blue armor, was leaning casually against a nearby tree, arms crossed over his chest. His sharp features were framed by dark hair that fell casually across his face, and though his expression was relaxed, his eyes were constantly scanning the area, taking in every detail. “Kaelith,” he said quietly, his voice smooth and calm, like the stillness before a storm. His bow, slung across his back, was an elegant weapon, intricately carved with ice runes, and a quiver of frost-tipped arrows hung at his waist. “I don’t mind the quiet, unlike the rest of these clowns,” he added, glancing at Ellyra and Dreugan with a faint smirk. “But it’s true. We were curious about what was taking the patrol so long. Turns out they got themselves killed… pretty badly, too. The rates of bandits have gone up widely ever since the upcoming war was announced. And every time we get to where the bandits strike, they’re either gone or dead. Like now.”

He stepped forward, eyes flicking over Xyenn’s blood-soaked armor. “And now we find you here, sitting on top of them, looking like a drunk jester that just got mauled by a bear.”

Xyenn’s eye twitched, his hands clenching slightly before he forced a smile. “N-No, I don’t,” he muttered, his voice defensive, though he immediately regretted speaking.

‘Even they’re picking on my armor..Mertha definitely wanted me to get bullied today. Anyways..these guys are assholes.’

Skaris laughed, the sound echoing through the snow-covered forest. “Oh, come on, kid. You’ve got blood all over you, and your armor looks like it’s been through a bear's den. You’re telling me you don’t look like a jester?”

Dreugan chuckled, his massive frame shaking with amusement. “I’ve seen bears do worse.”

Ellyra smirked, crossing her arms. “Maybe we should buy him a mirror next time we’re in the capital.”

Kaelith, however, was watching Xyenn with a more thoughtful expression. He circled him slowly, inspecting him from head to toe, his sharp eyes narrowing slightly as if trying to figure something out. “Hmm… You’re not from around here, are you?” he said, his voice quiet but probing. “That armor… it’s not from any of the local forges. And that accent..where are you from?”

Skaris grinned, leaning on his halberd. “Oh, let me guess, Kaelith. You’re gonna tell us you’ve got it all figured out, right?”

Kaelith’s eyes flicked up to meet Xyenn's, and for a moment, they locked gazes. Xyenn felt his heart skip a beat, the tension ratcheting up as Kaelith’s piercing gaze seemed to look right through him. Then, Kaelith smiled faintly. “I got it.”

Skaris raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “Oh? Do tell.”

Kaelith straightened up, his smirk widening. “He should travel with us!”

Xyenn’s stomach dropped. His mind raced, panic flaring in his chest. ‘Travel with them?! Already?!’

He didn’t want to get involved with these people. They were too close to Haldrek, too close to Kragvyr. But then, a thought crept into his mind, one that made him pause. ‘Wait… if I go with them, I could learn more. Get close to Haldrek.’ His mind whirled with possibilities. Being this close to the king’s elite warriors could give him the advantage he needed. He could study their powers, learn their weaknesses, and maybe even find a way to use them against Kragvyr and Haldrek.

‘No! That’s a dumb idea! What if I’m easily caught?! Then I’ll be doomed! I can already tell, these four are insanely strong just by looking at them. I can’t make dumb decisions, but I’m scared to say no..I don’t wanna be afraid of just people. I told Death I wouldn’t lose ever again, but then again here I am scared of the ones I always wanted to take down: the ones with magic, when I had none. Fighting those bandits released something in me, something I never felt before. The desire for control. I have to control my fear…I lived in fear for years..I have to do this. If my body is physically changing, then I have to change as well. I’m not the same Xyenn as I was before. Mertha is basically a pro in espionage and warfare, and she trusts me to go out and make progress. I’m not blowing that horn she gave me, I’m tired of being called a kid. I’m 19, I’m grown. I’ll do all of this and come back with answers without needing to call her to my aid. I can do this. Then they’ll take me serious.’

It was a risky gamble.

Skaris clapped his hands together, clearly amused by the idea. “That’s perfect. The kid can come along. We like strong people.”

Then he looked at Xyenn with a straight face, saying with dull eyes, “We have no room for the weak.”

Xyenn’s heart pounded once more, he can sense the extreme bloodlust from the warriors surrounding him.

Ellyra sighed, kicking another body in boredom. “Sure, why not? It’s not like we’ve got anything better to do. He might make everything interesting again. Everything’s been sooo boring.”

Dreugan shrugged, grinning down at Xyenn. “I don’t care. If he can keep up, he’s welcome to tag along. But I doubt Haldrek would want him in his ranks, he’s just a kid.”

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Xyenn forced a smile, though inside, his mind was racing. ‘I can’t believe this is happening…they want me to travel with them a second into meeting them? They’re definitely planning something. Maybe to take me out? Nah, they would’ve done it already.’ But before he could protest, before he could even think of an excuse, Skaris was already gesturing for him to follow.

Kaelith pulled a folded piece of parchment from his belt, smirking as he unfolded it with a flourish. “Speaking of something to do…” His voice took on an exaggerated, almost theatrical tone as he read aloud, “By decree of the Council of Rimehold, an invitation is extended to all warriors and adventurers to participate in the grand tournament of Vyrskeld’s Fury! Held in the frozen arena of Skaldir’s Vale, the tournament will pit the greatest fighters in Vördrheim against each other in a contest of skill, strength, and survival. The winner shall be granted a boon by the Council and a purse of treasures from the vaults of Vördrheim itself! This is perfect! We get to see this kid in action! After all, he killed 50 bandits who killed the king's knights! So he’s gotta be strong!”

Ellyra perked up at this, her eyes suddenly gleaming with interest. “Wait, a tournament?” She flicked her braid over her shoulder, excitement creeping into her voice. “Now that sounds like something worth doing.”

Kaelith continued, his tone growing even more dramatic. “The tournament will be held beneath the gaze of the ancient colossus of Skaldir, Only the strongest will survive the onslaught of nature and foes alike!” He paused, glancing around with a grin. “And here’s the best part… The invitation is extended to those brave enough to risk their lives for glory and riches.”

Dreugan laughed, his deep voice booming across the clearing. “Glory, riches, and a chance to crack some skulls? Sounds like a perfect way to pass the time. Our glory diminished once we were assigned to watch after patrols. We need to gain it back.”

Skaris scratched his chin, his grin never fading. “And you said you stole this off a bandit, Kaelith?”

Kaelith shrugged, folding the parchment again and tucking it into his belt. “More or less. He wasn’t exactly using it.”

Ellyra snorted. “Let me guess, you stole it while he was still breathing, then ran off. How noble of you, Kaelith.”

Kaelith smirked, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “Details, details.”

Xyenn, still standing there in silence, was only half-listening. His mind was racing. ‘A tournament? In Skaldir’s Vale?’ It was a place where only the strongest survived. If these warriors were planning to participate… it could be his chance to observe them closely. To learn more about Haldrek’s inner circle. And perhaps, if he played his cards right, to find something useful for his mission of assassinating a king and a god. But he knew at the same time, the warriors were doing the same thing to him. These warriors of king Haldrek were anxious to see Xyenn fight, after seeing him slaughter 50 bandits. The question was: Why were they so anxious? So damn eager? They just met..

But there was also the risk. If they suspected anything, if they found out what he was really after… he might not leave the Vale alive.

Skaris stretched, his halberd resting casually across his shoulders. “Well, what do you think, kid? Feel like testing your luck in Vyrskeld’s Fury? I’m sure a jester like you could entertain the crowds.”

Xyenn’s eye twitched again, but he forced another small smile. “Sure… why not?”

‘I’m too nervous to crack jokes or anything, I'm being so boring right now. I’m pretty sure that’s safer. Act diffrent.’

Ellyra chuckled, clearly amused by Xyenn’s discomfort. “Maybe we’ll see if you’re more than just a walking bloodstain. We really wanna see you fight in action..”

Dreugan grinned, hefting his warhammer onto his shoulder. “I say we go. It’s been too long since we’ve had a real fight. Plus, if the prize is as good as that letter makes it sound… well, I wouldn’t mind adding a few more trophies to my collection.”

Skaris clapped Xyenn on the back, nearly knocking him forward with the force of it. “That’s the spirit! We’ll head to Skaldir’s Vale and show them what real warriors look like.”

Kaelith, ever the quiet one, simply nodded in agreement. “It’ll be interesting, at the very least.”

As they began to move out, Xyenn’s thoughts swirled.

‘These people are mad!’

But he couldn’t deny the excitement bubbling under the surface. He’s never even been a part of a tournament before. He’s heard of them all over the world, but damn he always wanted to be part of it.

The biting cold of Vördrheim was ever-present as Xyenn and his newfound companions trudged through the snow-laden path leading toward Skaldir’s Vale, where the tournament known as Vyrskeld’s Fury was set to unfold.

‘I’m glad I don’t feel the cold anymore.’

The landscape around them was a stark, frozen beauty—tall, jagged mountains capped with thick layers of snow, their peaks lost in swirling blizzards. The snow crunched beneath their boots as they walked, and the wind howled through the valleys like the forlorn cry of a beast.

Above them, the sun was a pale, distant orb, casting a cold, silver light over everything. Icicles hung from the edges of ancient stone ruins that dotted the landscape, and here and there the frozen bodies of past travelers were half-buried in the snow—grim reminders of the dangers that awaited in this icy wilderness.

‘Amazing…’ Xyenn thought in awe.

As they neared the tournament grounds, the sounds of clashing steel and the roar of the crowd grew louder, carried on the wind like the distant rumble of a glacier breaking. Skaldir’s Vale was a natural arena, a vast frozen basin surrounded by towering cliffs and jagged ice formations. At the center of the vale stood the Colossus of Skaldir, an ancient, weathered statue of a long-forgotten warrior, his massive stone form frozen in a battle stance, towering over the arena like a silent judge.

The tournament grounds themselves were teeming with life. Makeshift tents and banners fluttered in the wind, their vibrant colors standing out against the white and gray of the snow. Fires burned in braziers to keep the fighters and spectators warm, and the smell of roasting meat and spiced ale filled the air, mixing with the metallic tang of blood and sweat. The crowd was a mix of all kinds—humans, chimeras, beastkin, and other, stranger beings from the farthest reaches of Vördrheim. Some humanoids bore the unmistakable signs of magical mutations—glowing eyes, twisted horns, or scaled skin—while others were massive chimeric creatures, their bodies a blend of various animals and magical beasts.

Xyenn’s breath fogged in front of him as he took it all in, his heart pounding in his chest. He had never seen anything like this before. Warriors of all shapes and sizes were scattered across the grounds, sharpening weapons, adjusting armor, and making last-minute preparations. The air was thick with tension and excitement. Some even practiced their magic, and some had small little duels on the outside of the arena.

He was getting excited.

‘Clerics, Warriors, Rogues, Tanks, Martial artists, Mages, Beast tamers, and Alchemists everywhere…this is gonna get crazy..’

Skaris, ever the loudest of the group, was grinning from ear to ear as he surveyed the scene. “Well, well, well… look at this! Feels like we’ve stepped into a den of wolves.” His halberd rested across his shoulders, and he looked around with gleaming eyes, clearly enjoying the chaos of it all. “I bet half these guys won’t make it past the first round. We’re gonna crush everyone! And for this new kid here, let’s make a way for him to fight first!”

Xyenn looked at him, saying, “Eh? Me?”

“Yeah you!”

Ellyra, her silver braid twirling in the wind, scanned the crowd with a sharp eye. “There’s more here than I expected. Some of these warriors… I’ve heard of them.” She pointed discreetly to a group of towering, fur-clad fighters near one of the braziers. “That’s the Frostblood Clan. They’re known for their berserkers—they enter battle in a trance, immune to pain. Now they sound fun…I’m sure this new kid will have fun with them.”

Xyenn panic on the inside: ‘Hell no! They sound crazier than you guys!’

Dreugan grunted, hefting his warhammer onto his shoulder. “Wouldn’t mind taking one of them down, though. Could use a challenge.” His eyes gleamed with anticipation, as if he were already imagining the sound of his hammer crushing bones.

Kaelith, quieter but no less observant, was leaning against a nearby post, his sharp eyes flicking between the fighters. “I see a few Rune Wardens over there,” he said, nodding toward a group of armored warriors whose armor glowed faintly with magical runes. “They’re from the southern reaches of Vördrheim… powerful spell-grimoire users. They use those runes to channel magic into their bodies and especially the battlefield they walk on. Bet this new kid would rip their pages apart and shove them down their throats!”

Xyenn’s stomach churned with a mixture of excitement and nervousness. But as they walked through the crowd, it quickly became clear that not everyone was impressed with him. A group of warriors, standing around a makeshift training ring, caught sight of Xyenn and immediately burst into laughter.

Then Kaelith stood on top of a random shaman’s head, crying out, “Attention everyone!”

All the fighters participating in the tournament gathered around, and Druegan and Ellyra and Skaris shook their heads.

“Hey, isn't that one of the warriors for the king?” One fighter asked.

“Of course they’re here.” Another one chimed in. “We might as well go home. They’re gonna take everyone down.”

“Like hell we are! This just got more pumped!”

Kaelith grinned, “Attention!” He grabbed Xyenn, and put his arm around him, saying, “This kid right here just slaughtered 50 bandits! Impressive right?! Now he’s told me he can take down EVERY single fighter here! Now are you guys gonna take that or no? The kid said he can even beat ME.”

Xyenn gasped, “Wha-?!”

‘This guy…Kaelith or whatever his name is..what’s he planning?!’

The fighters surrounded him, saying:

“So you think you’re tough, brat?”

“You don’t look like shit to me.”

“You had to run your mouth to one of the king's warriors instead of us?”

“You’ve got a lot of mouth! I hope I get paired with you!”

The fighters kept rambling on, and Xyenn waved his hands slightly, chuckling, “Haha, no, I didn’t say that..I would never.”

Xyenn then grinned with his thoughts, ‘Fools! I’m literally a god! I could clobber all of you if I wanted! But I gotta act humble in front of everyone. Why? If I act like myself, I’m doomed. I won’t fold under pressure—.’

“Hey, look at you anyway!” one of them sneered, a tall human with a scar running down his cheek. “Did you get lost on your way to the circus, kid?”

His friend, a hulking chimera with the head of a wolf and the body of a man, snickered, pointing at Xyenn’s colorful, mismatched armor. “What’s with the outfit? Looks like a jester fell into a bear's den.”

Xyenn’s face flushed with anger, his sharp teeth baring in a snarl as he pointed at them. “Damn you! Damn you all!” he spat, his voice trembling with frustration. His sharp, draconic teeth glinted in the pale light, and for a moment, the group of warriors went silent, staring at him. “I’ll end you all in the tournament!”

One of them, a woman with pale, scaled skin and glowing yellow eyes, leaned toward her companions and whispered loudly enough for Xyenn to hear. “Did you see his teeth? You think he’s of draconic blood?”

The scarred man snorted. “Or maybe he’s a vessel for one of those draconic gods. I’d watch out—he might bite.”

“It’s rare, honestly. Those of draconic bloodline are children of draconic god vessels. He might be just that.”

As the group laughed again, Xyenn clenched his fists, his face burning with embarrassment and anger. He could feel Skaris watching him from the corner of his eye, the halberd-wielder grinning with amusement.

“Don’t let ‘em get to you, kid,” Skaris said, slapping Xyenn on the back with enough force to nearly knock him over. “They’re just jealous. Besides, if any of them give you trouble, we’ll take care of it.”

“Y-Yeah, thanks. But I can handle myself.”

Far above the tournament grounds, in a towering stone structure that overlooked the entire arena, a certain noble was watching the proceedings with great interest. Lord Gorvhan Velmire, a rotund, greasy man with a thick, bushy mustache and thinning hair, lounged in a plush chair, surrounded by a small army of maids and servants who attended to his every whim. His large frame was draped in extravagant furs and silks of deep burgundy and gold, and his fingers were adorned with rings that sparkled in the pale light filtering through the high, narrow windows of the tower.

He reclined lazily as two maids massaged his shoulders, his piggish eyes scanning the fighters below with a mixture of amusement and greed. “Heh… look at them all,” he muttered to himself, his voice thick and nasally. “So many warriors… all eager to kill each other for a bit of glory and coin. Fools, the lot of them.”

One of the maids, a younger girl with wide eyes, glanced nervously at him. “Is there anyone you favor, my lord?”

Lord Velmire grinned, his fat fingers stroking his mustache thoughtfully as he watched the crowd. “Oh, I’ve got my eye on a few. That clan of berserkers over there… the Frostbloods. They’ll be fun to watch. And Rojas, the self proclaimed strongest man in Kyrrin. Even though he’s a lunatic, I have high hopes for him, including a few other notorious fighters I see out there.”

His eyes wandered further, settling on a figure near the center of the grounds, surrounded by a group of laughing warriors. His eyes narrowed slightly as he noticed the sharp, gleaming teeth of the young man standing with them. “Hmm… now, what do we have here?”

He squinted, leaning forward slightly. “That boy… the one with the colorful armor. Look at those teeth. Could he be… of draconic blood? Or perhaps…” His voice trailed off, and a sly grin spread across his face. “Perhaps he’s a vessel for one of the draconic deities. Or a child of a vessel..? Interesting… very interesting.”

He leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers as he watched Xyenn with growing curiosity. “I’ll be keeping an eye on that one. He might be more dangerous than he looks… or more valuable.”

Suddenly, a loud horn blast echoed across the vale, cutting through the noise of the crowd. The tournament was about to begin. The fighters began to gather near the center of the arena, where a massive wooden platform had been erected. The roar of the crowd grew louder as the warriors lined up, each one eager to prove themselves in the brutal contest to come.

Skaris grinned, adjusting his grip on his halberd. “Looks like it’s time. You ready for this, kid?”

Xyenn swallowed hard, his heart pounding in his chest. He was nervous—terrified, even—but beneath that fear, there was something else. Excitement.

‘If I win… they’ll have to take me seriously. No more kid this and kid that. I’ll come home to Mertha and give her intel on Haldrek’s warriors, she’ll have to take me seriously then too.’

He nodded, his sharp teeth glinting in the pale light as he stepped forward. “I’m ready.”