Chapter 10 - The First Trial

The grand chamber of Drakemont Castle was alive with a mix of excitement and apprehension as the noble heirs assembled for the opening of the coming-of-age ceremony. The attendees included counts, viscounts, barons, and their kin, all eager to see how the next generation of leaders would prove themselves.

The coming-of-age ceremony was an ancient tradition, steeped in history and significance. It was not merely a rite of passage but a proving ground, where the nobility's young scions demonstrated their readiness to lead, fight, and govern. The ceremony consisted of three tests: a written examination, a combat trial, and a speech presentation. Each test was designed to evaluate not only the heirs' individual strengths but also their adaptability, wisdom, and charisma—qualities essential to shaping the future of the dukedom.

Kaelan stood among the other competitors, his sharp gaze scanning the hall as the announcer prepared to declare the first trial. Unlike many of the others, who fidgeted nervously or whispered amongst themselves, Kaelan exuded an air of quiet confidence.

He had no need to prove himself to anyone—not anymore. He wasn't the same broken boy they once pitied or dismissed. The memories of his previous life as Keiran had given him a unique perspective, as well as a trove of knowledge that few could even dream of.

His calm demeanor did not go unnoticed.

"He's different," murmured one noble lady to her companion.

"Perhaps he's hiding his nerves," her friend replied skeptically.

Lady Selene, standing a few steps away, smirked. "Confidence can only take you so far," she muttered under her breath.

Kaelan, hearing her, turned his head slightly and met her gaze. He didn't say a word, but the look in his eyes said enough. It wasn't arrogance—it was assurance.

Selene blinked, momentarily taken aback.

The Written Test

An announcer stepped forward, his voice amplified by a touch of aura manipulation.

"Ladies and gentlemen, noble heirs of the realm, welcome to the first trial of the coming-of-age ceremony—the written examination. This test is designed to measure your knowledge of history, governance, and strategy. You have one hour. Please proceed to your assigned desks."

The competitors moved to their places, where quills, ink, and parchment awaited them. The test was comprised of a series of complex questions, ranging from solving political dilemmas to analyzing military tactics and interpreting ancient texts.

Kaelan glanced at the parchment before him, a faint smile playing on his lips. The questions were undoubtedly challenging, but to him, they were an opportunity. His memories of Earth, combined with his studies in this world, gave him a unique edge.

One question in particular caught his attention:

"A barony suffers from chronic food shortages due to poor crop yields. As a lord, what policies would you implement to address this issue? Consider short-term and long-term solutions."

Kaelan's pen flew across the parchment. He wrote about introducing crop rotation and irrigation techniques, concepts inspired by agricultural advancements from Earth. He outlined a plan to incentivize farmers with subsidies while encouraging the cultivation of drought-resistant crops.

Another question focused on military strategy:

"A small force is defending a castle against a larger army. What strategies should the commander employ to maximize their chances of survival?"

Here, Kaelan's knowledge of siege warfare from historical battles on Earth came into play. He described the importance of fortifying weak points, conserving resources, and using guerrilla tactics to harass the enemy.

While many of the other participants struggled to complete their answers, Kaelan wrote with ease, his thoughts clear and precise. He finished early and leaned back in his chair, his expression calm.

Lady Elara, seated a few desks away, glanced at him curiously. Unlike most of the competitors, she wasn't unnerved by Kaelan's composure. If anything, she seemed intrigued.

In contrast, Count Aldric's irritation was evident as he struggled with a particularly difficult question. Lord Vance and Lady Isolde, seated nearby, exchanged frustrated glances as they scribbled furiously on their parchments.

As the hour came to an end, the announcer called for the parchments to be collected. The competitors rose from their seats, some looking relieved, others visibly shaken.

Kaelan, however, walked away without a hint of emotion, his stride confident and unhurried.

Lady Selene caught up to him as they exited the hall. "Finished early, did you?" she asked, her tone laced with sarcasm.

Kaelan turned to her, his expression unreadable. "I only needed as much time as the questions required. Perhaps you should focus on your own performance."

Her smirk faltered for a brief moment before she quickly regained her composure.

In the observation gallery, Elena watched the proceedings with a calculating gaze.

"He's performing better than expected," she remarked to Tomas, who stood at her side.

Tomas scowled. "It's just the written test. Anyone can put words on paper."

Elena smiled faintly. "Perhaps. But perception matters, my son. If Kaelan continues to perform like this, we'll need to adjust our strategy. Keep close to Lord Aric and Lady Selene. They'll play their parts soon enough."

Tomas nodded, his youthful arrogance shining through. "He won't win. Not while we're here."

As the day progressed, the nobles buzzed with speculation about the written test results. Some spoke of Kaelan's surprising confidence, while others whispered about Lady Elara's brilliance and Count Aldric's determination.

Kaelan paid no attention to the chatter. His focus was already on the next trial. This wasn't about outshining anyone else—it was about reclaiming his place, one step at a time.

To the outside world, Kaelan's calm and assured demeanor seemed almost otherworldly. But to him, it was simply the result of knowing who he was and what he was capable of.

The second trial awaited, but for now, Kaelan was content to let the others wonder what had changed in him. Because he knew one thing for certain—he was no longer playing their game. He was rewriting the rules.