Chapter 12: "The King's Decree"

The grand throne room felt like a vault, heavy with silence and thick with expectation. Alexius knelt before the King, his eyes cast downward, his every move deliberate. The cold marble beneath his knees felt like a challenge in itself, a reminder of the weight of the world he'd been thrust into.

"Rise," the King commanded, his voice sharp and devoid of warmth. Alexius obeyed, standing tall as the King's gaze bore into him. His father, King Lucian the Ironbound, gave a curt nod toward the edge of the room where Alexius' siblings stood in a loose line, each displaying their distinct personalities in their stances and expressions.

The eldest, Prince Aldric, radiated confidence, his broad shoulders and regal bearing a testament to years of preparation for the throne. Beside him, Princess Elira, poised and calculating, stood with her arms crossed, her gaze keen as if already strategizing her next move. Prince Darius, the third in line, exuded a simmering intensity, his fingers twitching near the pommel of his sword. The remaining seven siblings were a mix of disinterest, curiosity, and tension, their reactions varying from subtle smirks to furrowed brows.

Alexius took his place among them, his posture calm and composed, though his mind churned. He caught a fleeting glance from Elira, her sharp eyes trying to dissect him, but he gave nothing away.

King Lucian rose from his throne, his presence filling the room. His tone was cold, cutting through the silence like a blade.

"In one week's time, the Royal Tournament will commence. This event will serve as the first trial to determine the future of this kingdom."

The air shifted. A murmur passed through the line of siblings. Alexius remained silent, his face a practiced mask of neutrality, but his thoughts raced.

"Following the tournament," the King continued, his voice unwavering, "the race for the Heir to the throne shall officially begin."

A ripple of shock ran through the room. Even Aldric, the ever-composed heir apparent, tensed at the proclamation. Elira's lips tightened, her calculating gaze flickering briefly toward her father. Darius' jaw clenched, his knuckles whitening as he gripped his sword.

Alexius, though inwardly startled, kept his expression neutral. Yet inside, he reeled. The Heir Race was not just a test of strength or skill, it was a crucible designed to forge rulers through fire. This was far more dangerous and complex than he had anticipated.

As the King spoke of the stakes, Alexius' thoughts turned inward. He had read about the Heir Race in an old tome, one of the few treasures he had unearthed in the royal archives shortly after his reincarnation.

The Heir Race: A brutal contest of governance, strategy, and power.

Each prince and princess would be assigned control of a county within the kingdom. Their task: to transform that county into a thriving dukedom. Victory was determined by multiple factors, economic growth, military strength, and political influence.

But the race was no mere game. Siblings could vie for dominance through political schemes, alliances, or military force. Submission was an option, but it meant forfeiting all claim to the throne. Death, however, was not forbidden, and was how most of these races ended in bloodshed.

Alexius couldn't help but admire the cold brilliance of the system. It wasn't about raw power but the ability to rule. It forced the heirs to prove their worth beyond titles or lineage.

His father's voice snapped him back to the present.

"You will have one week to prepare for the tournament. After that, your roles as leaders will begin. The path forward will test every part of you. Prepare yourselves."

The King's gaze swept over his children, his eyes like daggers.

"You are dismissed."

The siblings bowed in unison, each one masking their thoughts behind carefully schooled expressions. As they filed out of the throne room, the tension between them was palpable. Alexius walked in measured steps, his mind already racing with plans.

The heavy oak door of Alexius' chambers closed with a dull thud. He sank into the chair by his desk, running a hand through his hair. The weight of the King's words settled on him like a leaden cloak.

The Heir Race was no simple contest. It was a game of survival, one that demanded both brilliance and ruthlessness. He would need every advantage he could muster.

Alexius turned his attention to the System, willing the interface to appear. The familiar translucent screen materialized before him, displaying his accumulated points: 100,000. The number startled him. The grueling training sessions and the completion of the quest to assemble the Founding Five had paid off handsomely.

A smirk tugged at his lips. "Maybe those killer workouts were worth it after all," he muttered.

Alexius opened the System Shop, scrolling through the options. His recruits came to mind immediately. Their progress had been steady, but the upcoming challenges demanded more. He searched for training manuals, the perfect tools to sharpen their skills.

Each manual came with a description, a promise of unlocking potential:

Spear Mastery: Piercing Gale – "A manual designed to teach advanced spear techniques, focusing on speed and precision. Users will learn the Gale Strike, a rapid thrust capable of overwhelming opponents." (Cost: 10,000 points)

Lance Mastery: Iron Tempest – "A manual emphasizing control and power. Users will master the Tempest Charge, a devastating attack combining speed and impact." (Cost: 10,000 points)

Archery Mastery: Silent Arrow – "A guide to stealth and precision. Users will learn the Phantom Shot, an undetectable arrow strike." (Cost: 10,000 points)

Rapier Mastery: Dancing Blade - "A manual focused on agility and finesse. Users will gain the ability to perform the Veil Step, an evasive maneuver that doubles as an attack." (Cost: 10,000 points)

Alexius purchased each manual for Mira, Drake, Leif, and Isabelle, totaling 40,000 points. His thoughts then turned to Garret. As his right-hand man, Garret deserved more advanced training.

He browsed the Tier 2 manuals, their steep prices a testament to their value. After careful deliberation, he selected:

Sword-and-Shield Mastery: Bastion's Edge - "A manual blending offense and defense. Users will unlock the Shield Riposte, a counterattack that turns defense into a decisive strike." (Cost: 50,000 points)

The purchase left him with only 10,000 points, but Alexius felt no regret. The investment in his team was essential.

Satisfied, Alexius closed the interface. Exhaustion began to seep into his bones, the events of the day catching up with him. He stretched out on his bed, staring at the ceiling.

The King's announcement replayed in his mind. The tournament was only the beginning. The Heir Race would test every ounce of his strength, intelligence, and resolve. But he wasn't the same person who had stumbled into this world, unprepared and unsure. He had grown, and he would continue to grow.

As sleep claimed him, one thought lingered:

The race has begun. And I will win.