The dunes curved like shattered ribs across the desert floor, wind whispering cruelly between them. Nothing much happened since last night and mid-day. The twin suns had already started its setting. The twin suns had dipped low, casting long shadows over the Expanse. Ethan's boots pressed through warm sand, his gaze locked forward, expression unreadable.
Velina walked a step behind him, her breath slower now, drained but still focused. They had fought ever since they entered the portal, the grind of the Trial had gnawed at even the strongest.
But neither had broken. Not yet.
Then they heard it.
Laughter.
Voices echoing just beyond the next dune. Not screams. Not struggle. Mockery.
Ethan crested the ridge, and froze. A group stood gathered near the remains of a dried-out tree. Eight noble aspirants. All clad in shimmering armor, their crests polished, their boots unstained. Not even dust clung to them. Not even blood clung to them. The top of the top.
At their center stood him, tall, elegant, blade sheathed at his hip, arms folded with relaxed superiority.
Cael Verendis, Rank 1 of the first trial. Chosen son of House Verendis, a family drenched in gold, glory, and blood bought by betrayal. But were skilled, known lineage of great noble Knights. The boy didn't notice Ethan at first. He was too busy laughing at a crude joke one of his lackeys had made. But when he did turn, his smile widened into something venomous.
"Well, well," Cael drawled, voice smooth and theatrical. "If it isn't the nameless freak of this generation."
His cronies chuckled like dogs behind him.
Ethan stopped walking. Velina caught up, her hand already resting on her blade.
"I was beginning to think you'd died out here," Cael continued, strolling forward like he owned the sand beneath his feet. "But no... you're too stubborn for that, aren't you? Like a roach."
Ethan said nothing. He didn't need to. Ethan who was already angered since yesterday felt the wrath in him twich. The storm inside him was already roaring.
[WRATH: 95/35]
[Overload Stabilizing… Trigger Threshold: Critical]
[System: Host should surpress the wrath down, if wrath continues to rise, seal weakening will be critical]
The panel glowed, but Ethan didn't look at it.
Cael circled them now, eyes gleaming. "Tell me, does it ache? Carrying the shame of your family's disgrace through the desert? Or is that what gives you strength? The stench of failure? Stench of being a no name?"
Another boy barked a laugh. "I heard his mother begged for mercy. Didn't get it."
Ethan's fist snapped forward, not toward them, but into the air, clenching so hard it drew blood from his palm.
[WARNING: WRATH OVERSURGE]
[SYSTEM: Host should surpress the wrath down, might result in critical seal weakening]
Velina's voice was tense. "Don't."
But it was too late.
Cael grinned. "Oh? You going to punch me, street rat? Go on, then. Let's give the Knights something to talk about."
He turned to the others. "Should we indulge him?"
The others jeered and stepped back, forming a wide circle.
A dueling ring.
Velina stepped between them. "You're all mad. This isn't the place. There are beasts everywhere. We're being watched."
Cael winked at her. "Let them watch. Maybe they'll finally realize why the rest of us are born noble, and some of us are born to grovel in sand."
She clenched her jaw. "You'll be punished."
Cael smiled. "Only if I lose."
He turned to Ethan.
"I challenge you. Duel to first blood, or until one of us can't stand."
Ethan stepped forward. And drew his blade.
"Fine."
The circle closed. Even the wind went silent.
---
In a hall, overlooking the Expanse, a group of Knights watched through their extra large enchanted vision spheres.
One of them leaned forward. "They're serious."
Another Knight smirked. "Let them be. The desert makes the weak bolder. Let's see if the freak actually has teeth."
The order was given: no interference.
Let the storm play out.
---
Ethan stood across from Cael, blade in hand. The noble didn't even draw his weapon yet. He yawned, then unsheathed his silver longsword with a lazy flourish. The blade shimmered in the dusk like a mirror.
Velina stood outside the circle, fuming. "Ethan, don't do this. He's baiting you."
"I know."
"Then why—"
"Because I can't back down again."
The moment shattered. Ethan charged. His steps dug into the sand, blade raised high, slicing forward in a brutal overhead arc.
Cael didn't even flinch. He sidestepped smoothly, letting the strike pass like wind over silk. Ethan pivoted, slashed low, the noble parried with two fingers on his sword's flat side, as if batting away a child's toy.
Another strike. Another miss. Ethan pressed forward, unleashing a flurry of attacks, heavy, raw, relentless. Every single one was dodged or deflected. Not a scratch on Cael. He moved like he wasn't even trying.
"Is this it?" the noble asked, clearly bored. "This is the fury these beasts has been falling to? So pathetic"
He yawned again, then parried a side strike with such ease it threw Ethan off balance.
"Sad."
Ethan stumbled, then ducked under a high kick.
Cael was still smiling. "You fight like someone who's almost strong. Like a dog that learned to bare its teeth, but never knew how to bite."
Another strike, Ethan's blade aimed for his shoulder.
Cael twisted. Parried. Punched Ethan across the jaw with his hilt. Ethan spat blood, tightened his grip on his sword. Wrath was storming inside of him.
---
The Knights watching tensed.
One of them leaned forward. "The boy's going to snap."
"The boy didn't land even a hit. So pathetic."
---
Back in the circle, Ethan got back up, wiping blood from his mouth with the back of his hand.
Velina's voice was thick with pain. "Please… stop. This isn't the fight you need."
But Ethan couldn't stop. This wasn't about winning anymore. This was about not breaking. He roared and charged again, this time aiming low, feinting high, then twisting for a side slash meant to cut through ribs.
Cael smirked. He blocked it cleanly, then swept Ethan's legs out from under him and pinned his blade to his throat.
The circle went quiet.
Ethan breathed hard, blade still in hand, but pinned. Defeated.
Cael leaned down, smiling. "You're not strong yet. You're just loud."
He stood and sheathed his blade.
"Come on Ethan, show me more. I am giving you another chance" Cael said, his lips curled upward to his ears.
Ethan stood, rage in his eyes, wrath overflowing through his veins. Leviathan marking pulsated, but couldn't be since thanks to the armor and the cloth he wrapped from his forearm to his chest.
Ethan was on his feet again, ready to go another round.