Trial of Blood and Iron (1)

"Young master, wake up! We're going to be late!"

Emily's hurried voice echoed through Seth's room as his eyes fluttered open, revealing his striking purple irises.

"Late?" he mumbled, still disoriented from sleep.

"Yes, late! The trials are starting in a few minutes, and you're not even out of bed yet!" Emily chided, already moving to prepare a set of clothes for him.

A few days had passed since Seth discovered his talent for magic, and he had been practicing fervently ever since, determined to learn at least one basic spell to add to his limited arsenal. And just like that, the day of the Trial of Blood and Iron had arrived.

"We're late!" Seth panicked as Emily's words finally sank in.

After a frantic rush to get ready, Seth and Emily were finally set to depart for the inner area. Before they left, Mira struggled to hide her worry, even shedding a few tears. But after reassuring her that they would do their very best to survive, the two finally stepped out of their old cottage- hoping to return stronger than before.

*****

Upon reaching the training grounds, Seth had expected the usual rowdiness that came whenever the instructors weren't supervising. But to his surprise, the area was eerily calm, the tension among the trainees almost palpable.

Looking around, he noticed that many of them were clad in various types of equipment, ranging from metallic chest plates to simple leather armor.

Seth himself wore a set of leather armor- something Mira had worked overtime to acquire for him. A simple leather chest piece covered his torso, paired with sturdy leather boots and gloves.

Emily, on the other hand, was similarly dressed in a leather chest piece but had additional gear- a pair of arm guards, a round wooden shield, and her worn, rusted sword.

As always, the trainees were divided into groups. One side wore matching leather gear- the commoners. The other, clad in polished metal armor, was the noble-born. But today, there was a third group- a tier below the commoners. They stood apart, possessing neither armor nor weapons of their own, having arrived in nothing more than their regular clothes.

The tense trainees didn't have to wait long before the instructors arrived. Leading them was Sir Vince Sinclair, his presence commanding attention despite his unusual choice of attire- a simple tunic, with his sword resting securely in its scabbard.

He stepped onto the platform where instructors usually addressed the trainees, and without hesitation, launched into another speech, his words gripping their hearts with ease.

Half-listening to Vince, Seth was pulled from his thoughts by Emily's hushed voice.

"Hey, young master, I have something for you," she whispered, reaching into her leather bag and pulling out a small bracelet.

The sight of it immediately sparked surprise in Seth's eyes. He recognized it at once. The bracelet was neatly braided from fabric, with an additional black thread woven in to create a subtle pattern. But what caught his attention the most was the small steel locket hanging from it.

"You always said you hated wearing accessories around your neck," Emily explained, fastening it around his wrist, "so I turned it into a bracelet."

Rendered momentarily speechless by the gesture, Seth barely had time to express his gratitude before Vince's speech came to an end.

"All those who wish to participate in the Blackthorn Trial of Blood and Iron," Vince announced, his voice carrying over the silent crowd, "will now be taken to the core area, where you will gain access to the Thornspire Forest."

Vince's words made perfect sense to Seth. Contrary to popular belief, the Blackthorn settlement wasn't built in a simple circular layout with the core at its center, surrounded by concentric walls. Instead, while the territory itself was circular, the core area was positioned at the very edge- right next to the Thornspire Forest.

After all, the core housed the clan's strongest warriors, serving as the first line of defense against the harrowing creatures lurking within the forest's depths.

Unlike most vassal clans, Blackthorn wasn't just responsible for guarding the kingdom's borders- they were tasked with subjugating the vast, untamed expanse of Thornspire Forest itself.

In that regard, Seth couldn't help but admire the clan's unwavering dedication to their duty, a responsibility bestowed upon them by the royal family.

That didn't mean he liked them although, he admired their sense of responsibility, it was also the reason for Blackthorn's extremist tendencies and ruthlessness.

Clearing his mind of unnecessary thoughts, Seth focused just in time to hear that they would be transported by carriage.

Reaching the core area felt surreal. It was a place he had only ever dreamed of setting foot in, yet here he was- being brought into the very heart of Blackthorn.

However, there was little time to dwell on his awe. Everyone knew why they were here, and the looming silhouette of Thornspire Forest drew closer with each passing second.

Their carriages came to a halt in a large clearing directly in front of the forest's entrance. As they stepped out, the trainees were surprised to find a small group of people already waiting for them.

At the center sat a man who appeared to be middle-aged, his athletic build and towering stature exuding an air of authority. His jet-black hair was streaked with a few strands of white along his beard, but it was his piercing crimson eyes- glinting with fierce intensity- that truly commanded attention. He sat upon what appeared to be a large throne.

Standing beside him was a familiar face- Sir Vince. Only now did the trainees realize that the taciturn knight had not been on the carriage with them.

"Did he run here?" Seth wondered in awe.

The third figure, positioned next to Vince, appeared to be a woman based on her body proportions. However, her face remained obscured beneath a wide-brimmed hat that extended downward into a veil.

At the sight of the man seated upon the imposing throne, a wave of movement swept through the noble trainees and instructors. As if bound by instinct, they straightened their backs, fists rising to press firmly against their chests, right over their hearts. The air crackled with discipline and reverence as their voices merged into one:

"We greet the Blackthorn Patriarch!"

The words echoed across the clearing, sharp and unwavering.

Seth felt a chill run down his spine. Around him, the common-born trainees stood frozen, their expressions a mixture of confusion and unease. Some shifted awkwardly, others glanced at one another as if seeking confirmation on what to do. For them, the name "Blackthorn Patriarch" was distant, a figure of legend and rumor rather than flesh and blood. But now, standing before them, he was terrifyingly real.

Seated on the throne, the man exuded an effortless authority. His broad shoulders carried the weight of command as naturally as the sword strapped to his side. His jet-black hair, streaked with faint strands of grey, gave him an air of wisdom beyond his years, but it was his eyes that unsettled Seth the most- crimson like freshly spilled blood, sharp and unyielding, surveying them all like prey beneath a predator's gaze.

"T-this is him? The Crimson Blade? The man who carved his name into battlefield legends?" Seth's throat went dry.

A strange mix of awe and apprehension settled over him. His fingers unconsciously curled into fists at his sides, a natural response to the sheer presence this man commanded. Though he had heard the stories, seeing the patriarch in person was an entirely different experience. He radiated the kind of power that couldn't be faked- the kind that came from countless battles, from bloodshed and survival.

Beside him, Emily subtly edged closer, as if she, too, could feel the weight pressing down on them.

Seeing Evander Von Blackthorn seated on his throne, Seth couldn't help but think, "Why is he here?"