The instructor stopped for a second, adopting a defensive stance.
Aren lunged forward, feeling a strange and warm energy.
It was the same sensation he had felt when Lylia healed him back then, but now it flowed through his entire body, strengthening him and washing away the fatigue.
"Lylia, thank you…" he murmured, dodging a slash aimed at his left side. "I won't let you down!"
Aren spun on his axis and attacked with a precision that surprised even himself.
The instructor managed to block in time, but the force of the impact pushed him back.
Seeing this, the squires tried to move in. However, Aveline and the others managed to keep them at bay.
"Don't break formation!" she shouted decisively, watching the fight. "We have to trust Aren!"
"Let's do it!" Bromir exclaimed before charging at one of the squires, stopping his advance and throwing him off balance.
The instructor tightened his grip on his sword and adopted another stance.
"You've exceeded my expectations, two hundred seventeen," he said with restrained amazement. "But this isn't over yet."
Both of them charged, exchanging slashes and thrusts.
Aren was able to keep up, increasing his speed and strength with every attack.
The glow around his body intensified.
Seeing this, the instructor launched a frontal attack, and Aren answered with a lateral slash.
A final clash between their weapons echoed through the air.
The instructor's sword cracked, then broke in two. However, Aren's attack did not stop there, reaching the steel breastplate and cutting through it as if it were butter.
A few moments passed in silence, broken only by the sound of broken armor and sword pieces hitting the ground.
The instructor dropped to his knees, forming a satisfied smile.
"Enough," he said, raising his hands.
The squires stopped at once.
Aren lowered his sword, panting, the glow around him fading little by little until it disappeared completely.
The instructor stood up and nodded.
"Mission accomplished."
The squires withdrew without a word.
Aren looked at the banner.
It was only a few steps away.
Aveline was the first to move forward and take it. She held it firmly, then handed it to Aren.
"You carry it," she said, smiling with pride. "You earned it, leader."
Aren nodded.
Together, they went down.
Without running or breaking formation.
When they crossed the gate, returning to the main courtyard, they found Captain Rorik waiting for them.
He looked at the banner.
Then at them.
"Good," he said, nodding. "Form up. You are the last group to arrive."
Those words confused Aren and his friends, who could not understand the situation.
"Are we the last?" Hal murmured with disappointment.
"I don't get it; we were the only ones who reached the banner," Lysander added, frustrated. "At least I think we passed the trial."
In silence, they lined up with the rest of the groups. Everyone looked exhausted, some relieved, others clearly worried.
The captain stepped in front of them, holding the banner of the Order.
"The final trial has ended!" he declared solemnly. "The final trial has ended."
Rorik let the silence settle.
No one moved or spoke.
The banner waved slightly in the morning breeze, heavy and solemn, as if it too were watching the recruits.
"Before we continue," Rorik said with measured calm, "you must understand something."
He walked a few steps in front of the ranks.
"This trial was not only about recovering a banner."
Some recruits exchanged confused looks.
"That," he continued, vaguely pointing toward the ruined training ground beyond the walls, "was a simulation of a real deployment."
Aren frowned.
'A simulation…?' he thought.
"Each group received a different mission," Rorik explained. "Some were to explore secondary routes. Others to disable traps. Some were sent as a distraction, knowing they would not reach the main objective."
A murmur ran through the ranks.
"And only one group…" he added, raising his voice slightly, "had the mission to recover the banner."
Aren felt everything click into place.
The traps already triggered, the marks on the ground, the abandoned equipment.
"Many arrived late. Others arrived quickly… but ignored orders. Some improvised."
The captain paused.
"And some failed."
The instructors began to move through the ranks.
One by one, several groups were pointed out.
"You."
Two human recruits clenched their teeth and stepped forward.
"Your mission was reconnaissance. You abandoned the assigned route."
"You."
A mixed group lowered their heads.
"You were supposed to disable traps. You activated them."
The process was fast, cold, and methodical.
Each group that was pointed out understood without needing further explanation.
When it was over, almost a third of the recruits had been separated.
Rorik turned toward them.
"You have not been accepted into the Order," he declared, without harshness, but without compassion. "You will leave the facilities today."
A murmur of disappointment, contained anger, and resignation spread among those eliminated.
"However," he added, raising a hand. "Do not forget this."
His voice hardened.
"In case of war, you will be called. Not as knights, not as squires. But as auxiliary forces."
Some turned pale.
"Dismissed."
The eliminated recruits were escorted away without violence, insults, or ceremony.
Aren watched them leave with a knot in his chest.
'So this is the Order,' he thought. 'There is no room for second chances.'
When the courtyard fell silent again, Rorik turned to those who remained.
"Now," he said. "The groups who succeeded."
One by one, he began to name them.
Scouts who had mapped entire routes.
Teams that disabled traps without being seen.
Groups that served as a distraction until they were defeated, fulfilling their role to the end.
Each mission was briefly explained. Each leader was named by number.
Aren listened carefully.
And then—
"Two hundred seventeen and his group."
His heart skipped a beat.
Rorik took a step toward them.
"Your performance in the second trial was… deficient," he said bluntly.
Hal tensed.
Bromir clenched his teeth.
Lysander lowered his gaze.
"However," the captain continued, "your performance in the final trial was impeccable."
Aren looked up.
"You followed the exact order, maintained formation, endured superior pressure, and didn't improvise when you shouldn't."
His gaze settled on Aren.
"And yet…"
The captain paused briefly.
"…when it was necessary, one of you went a step further."
A murmur spread across the courtyard.
"Two hundred seventeen," he said firmly. "You defeated an instructor."
Aren felt heat rise to his face.
"Not through brute force," Rorik added. "Nor through luck."
The captain studied him closely.
"But through control, technique, and courage."
Absolute silence.
"Very few knights achieve that."
Aren swallowed.
"If your goal is to become a paladin," he continued, "you have shown true potential."
Then Rorik turned his head.
"And you, one hundred thirty-eight."
Aveline stepped forward without hesitation.
"Strength, endurance, and ferocity," he listed. "You lack refined technique… but it is obvious that you have experience."
His eyes narrowed.
Aveline held his gaze without smiling.
"Both of you," Rorik concluded, "are the most promising recruits of this generation."
Aren's chest tightened.
Not from pride.
But from the weight of those words.
Rorik turned around.
"All of you who remain here," he announced, raising his voice, "have passed the selection."
One second of silence.
Then—
Held breaths, incredulous smiles, and a muffled sob or two.
"From today on," he continued, "you will be trained as squires of the Order of the Solar Blade."
Hal let out a long sigh.
"As an incentive," Rorik added, "you will receive an initial payment… and tonight, freedom to go into the city."
Some could not hold back excited murmurs.
"Enjoy it," he concluded. "Tomorrow, the real training begins."
The captain left.
Aren remained standing for a few seconds longer, watching the banner wave.
He had gone farther than he ever imagined.
But he also understood something now.
'This path…' he thought. 'It won't be easy.'
Aveline stepped up beside him.
"I guess we made it," she said.
Aren nodded slowly.
"Yeah."
She glanced at him.
"But you still doubt."
Aren smiled faintly.
"All the time, but I don't want to be thrown out of here," he replied, giving her a wink.
Aveline let out a brief laugh.
"Then… I guess you'll fit in just fine here."
As the group walked away amid tired laughter and nervous remarks about their free night, Aren walked in silence, his mind still vibrating.
For the first time, he began to feel that all the effort was finally starting to be rewarded.