[Three days after Melvin's confrontation with the old man.]

The Stage of Knights is one of the quintessential structures built in the Cresuilge Kingdom territory. Open to the public until sunset, it serves as a gathering for combatants to not only engage in gladiatorial events, but also train, and practice their skills in front of a large audience. Rarely, beasts were released from confined cells for knights to train against. Very often though, visitors from all over the continent would politely ask to use a part of the facility or challenge the resident combatants. Due to its great reception and immense popularity, reservation was not uncommon. 

The layout of the building was similar to the “Colosseum”, and thus, being roughly elliptical in shape. However, it was more of a unique modernised stadium. Usually, the floor of the arena was open, much like a soccer field and two hundred metres long and wide. However, its sophisticated floor design could be manipulated through the gears of a mana powered system to transform the arena into multiple small arenas.  Moreover, the floor was regarded as “mystically pliable” as it can alter into a variety of staged arenas of different shapes to a maximum of ten arenas. It is rumoured to be constructed from an excavated ore from a fallen meteorite. The origin for the foundation of the Stage of Knights was unknown, only known to the King and Queen. 

When it came to the seating, the Colosseum had the capacity to hold around ninety thousand people. Any individual regardless if they were a participant, tourist, or not were free to watch over outings and events. To liven the entertainment, there were occasional bets taken place, albeit heavily supervised and managed. No matter how big and small, it was always overseen by people from the Cresuilge Kingdom. This law was relevant in any area within Kingdom territory. 

Contrary to a normal day where the arena would not even be a quarter full, today the arena's brilliance was in full display. Bubbling cheers from the crowd stretched across the entire arena, reverberating applause for the Cresuilge Kingdom's ruler to initiate his address. All eyes focused up towards the lavish VIP room protrude out from the third floor. A large, glassy screen was projecting the balustrade. Right at the edge of the balustrade stood a humble man. Despite being in front of an enormous audience, he was unfazed as though he was taking a walk in a park. Like a friendly stroller, the air he impressed was cordial, allowing ease for approach. Notwithstanding, a dominant regal presence was present on the surface. Patiently, the King waited for the noise to settle down before his speech.

"Everyone, I thank you all for attending today's special event. I am Richard Relza, Cresuilge Kingdom's 4th King." He swept his solemn gaze across the arena.

"The Knights of Kingdom Tournament has been a national tradition since the dawn of Cresuilge. It is a grand test set for the bright valorous warriors of our country, whether man or woman, to rationalise, improve, and comprehend the necessary instruments to what makes an ideal knight."

Hidden by his extravagant mantle, the King unsheathed a pristine silver broadsword. Carefully he held broadsword with two hands, elbows tucked in. The broadsword was raised straight in the middle, facing towards the sky. 

"Every knight is said to be one, but different. Loyal to the nation, a protector of the people, and an adherent to the code of knight. Yet, individualistic in the shape of the heart." The King paused to let the words sink in before speaking up again.

"I myself am a Knight."

Many attendants began to silently whisper. This was a famous phrase that has been passed down for generations. It was a phrase that is perceived by some as contradictory. Regardless of whether the ruler had been a knight or not, it was still said. One gifted and talented prince admired by all from the past was unable to understand this idea. He was recognised as the most preferable candidate to become King at the time, but in the end, his younger brother, who had grasped this notion, had acceded to the throne instead. 

Dalis and Sienna perked their ears with the utmost attention. 

"The Code of a Knight is defined by Cresuilge through the essentials of one's Temperament, Confidence, Power, Skill, Effort, and Wit. The tournament seeks to measure these essentials."

The King then began to briefly display a series of sword techniques specialising in the broadswords’ cuts and thrusts. Anybody could tell that the King was experienced. 

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

"So this tourney's event is power. How marvellous. It appears that lady luck is on my side." A muscular, tall man fisted one of his hands in delight. 

"Oh to think it would take ten years for you to finally get the test you wanted. Well, the test from two years ago technically had it too. Maybe this time you will actually make it into the top five hundred, Aaron."

"Looks like somebody wants to be slashed to death." Aaron stared at the pesky cinnamon-haired noble knight.

"I don't understand that King. It would be fine to let his . . . questionable antics slip by in the past, but this is inappropriate. How can he perform a display of power through such rubbish techniques." The noble knight scratched his head in irritation.

"Even I can beat up that King. But you Shawn would still lose to him in a show of strength, period." Even though Aaron was ignored, he didn't care. He was used to it.

"Repeat again?"

***

" . . .Those thirty who reach the greatest height of the tournament will then be faced with a final trial. And within those thirty, the courageous warriors who dare dive further and triumph are conferred by, I, as the next Knights of Majesty!! The 93rd Knights of Kingdom Tournament shall now commence!!"

"WOOOOOOOOOAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!"

The audience and participants were all revved up. Beautiful displays of aesthetic art appeared above the open dome, lighting the celebration of the tourney taken underway. Over a hundred figures could be seen standing at the ledges of the building casting spells, using artefacts, and other means to bang the world. The shows of art were not as sizeable as one would expect, but with the agglomeration of over a hundred spectacles, it offset this weakness. The blasts of mana were forming many shapes that were not only pleasing to the eye, but also interesting through the construction of shapes.

"Dalis! Melvin! Look look over there! In the corner, do you see that?!" Stilla shouted so loud that it wouldn't be wrong to call it a scream. 

The boys engrossed with the spectacle immediately twisted their necks to where she pointed. Two large amorphous materials of energy, one red, one yellow were forming under attentive precision to create a blooming flower. 

"Fantastic . . ." The sole word he gasped out was slow yet full of deep praise. 

Although Dalis did not let his voice leak, he instead felt a sense of nostalgia warm his body. The corners of his mouth crept to form a small grin.

"Dalis it's been so long ago since I have viewed the spectacles from the Cresuilge Kingdom. Let out your thoughts!" Sister Edna, who sat in the seat below, cried out.

However, Dalis did not respond. As though he was a petal in the breeze of spring, he let the wind and nature carry him across the sky. Sister Edna smiled while peaking at his heartfelt serene look and went back to livening the show with the introverted Koji. 

Benito Carter's head bobbed about in approval, constantly brushing the white scarf around his brown neck.

"Benito. Careful. It may tickle," a monotone, mellow, voice tinged with concern, called out. 

"Ah? Lian Chen. My scarf is it? Thanks for the worry! But you should be staring up there."

"Yeah it is like Benito says. The opportunity to see this is rare. In my homeland, we don't have such visual celebrations. It is a pity."

"Raghav, if you wish to see something similar one day I will show you. It is quite far from your nation, but if Caleyar's grace aligns with the stars, then sometime soon~" Benito beamed, glinting his healthy, white teeth.

"Hahaha, Benito you really are a funny great brother." 

Since the incident with the Pre-soldier Exam, these two along with Li Jun had hit it off very well.

"Not bad. The spectacle is meticulously managed, avoiding collisions and awry. Particularly, those Feeria up there. They are meeting my expectations." 

"To think out of those bumpkins there exists an intelligent fellow. Hayate of the Swamp."

"Wang Yong. You are not suggesting anything may I assume?"

"Hmph. One who frequently clothes oneself in our exquisite martial robes must have a refined bringing." Wang's gaze was piercing and filled with haughtiness. But to Hayate who has studied those arrogant imbeciles, he was able to tell that the imbecile before him had an iota of respect. Naturally, this unprecedented discovery pleased him. Thus, due to his good mood, he decided to entertain him.

"Indeed. Unlike the dirty plebeian muscle heads, fanatic worshippers with their so-called “holy attire,” and free-minded simpletons with their lack of delicacy, the clothing from Feeria are faultless. Power, class, novelty, the punctilious designs are justly befitting."

Rolling his eyes, Wang Yong looked vacantly at Hayate.

Hayate responded with his sharp, violet, eyes of steel. 

" . . . "

" . . . "

" . . . Bumpkin could you actually be from Feeria?"

It was the birth of a new friendship! Yup. Definitely.