Chapter 1.3 Test of Worth

The tension in the great hall was suffocating.

Aldric could feel the weight of countless eyes on him—nobles, knights, and retainers, all gathered to witness this moment.

His father, Duke Alaric Ravensbourne, sat at the head of it all, a figure of iron authority, while Lucien, his half-brother, observed with an expression of careful amusement.

Aldric was standing before judgment.

And he knew exactly what this was.

A test.

A noble family as powerful as House Ravensbourne didn't have the luxury of weakness. The fact that Aldric had survived poisoning was not enough—the Duke needed to see if he was still worthy of his name.

The Duke's Demand

"Aldric." The Duke's voice was measured, firm. "You should have died."

There was no malice in the words—just cold truth.

Aldric did not flinch.

"I didn't."

A faint murmur spread through the audience. His lack of hesitation was noted.

Duke Alaric's expression remained unreadable. "Then prove to me that you are still fit to bear the name Ravensbourne."

The meaning was clear.

Aldric clenched his fists subtly, gauging the state of his body. His limbs were still weak, his movements sluggish. His heart was still recovering from the shock of two weeks in a coma.

But backing down was not an option.

And so he met his father's steel-gray eyes with his own unwavering gaze.

"How?" Aldric asked simply.

For a moment, the Duke's lips curled in what might have been a flicker of approval.

Then, he lifted a hand.

"Lucien."

Aldric turned just in time to see his half-brother step forward.

Facing Lucien Ravensbourne

Lucien moved gracefully, like a predator at ease in his domain. He was tall, broad-shouldered, and carried himself with the confidence of a warrior.

He had been trained from childhood—a natural swordsman, a seasoned knight. Unlike Aldric's former self, who had been fragile and untrained, Lucien had spent years honing his skills.

And now, he was going to test Aldric.

Aldric's mind raced. There is no way I can physically match him right now.

The Duke gestured toward the weapons rack at the far end of the hall. "You will spar," he said simply.

Lucien's smirk was faint. He doesn't expect me to last even a minute.

Aldric turned toward the weapons. Think. Think. Think.

If he fought directly, he would lose. Instantly.

But combat wasn't just about strength.

It was about strategy.

Aldric reached for the rapier—a weapon built for speed and precision. It wasn't the strongest, but it was light, and in his weakened state, speed was his only hope.

Lucien, of course, took a longsword—a weapon built for power and control.

The contrast was almost comical.

Lucien gave a mocking tilt of his head. "Are you sure you want that, little brother?"

Aldric just rolled his shoulders, testing the weight of the blade.

He didn't answer.

Because words wouldn't help him now.

The Duel Begins

The hall fell silent as the two brothers stepped into the training circle.

Lucien took his stance with the ease of a professional. His stance was steady, perfect. A swordsman's stance.

Aldric… had nothing.

No formal training. No muscle memory. Just instinct and knowledge.

But knowledge was power.

The Duke's gaze was locked onto them. "Begin."

Lucien moved first.

Aldric saw the strike coming—a simple, precise downward cut. A test. Lucien wasn't even moving at full speed.

Aldric sidestepped just barely in time, the blade missing him by inches. Too slow.

Lucien's smirk widened.

"Your reflexes are garbage," he noted. "Should we stop before you embarrass yourself?"

Aldric ignored him.

Focus.

Analyze.

Lucien was overconfident. He wasn't taking Aldric seriously.

Which meant Aldric had one chance.

Lucien struck again, faster this time. A horizontal slash aimed at Aldric's ribs.

Predictable.

Aldric twisted his body, allowing the blade to pass just close enough to seem like a narrow escape.

Lucien stepped forward, pressing the attack—exactly what Aldric wanted.

At the last moment, Aldric dropped his weight, angling his blade low—and hooked Lucien's sword at just the right angle.

Lucien's balance wavered.

Aldric exploited it immediately.

With a quick, desperate step forward, he tapped the tip of his rapier against Lucien's throat.

A breath of silence.

Then—

Laughter.

Lucien chuckled, stepping back. "That was clever," he admitted. "Sloppy, but clever."

Aldric's chest was heaving, his legs shaking from the effort. He barely had any strength left.

But it didn't matter.

Because he had just surprised everyone.

The nobles in the hall were murmuring, and even Duke Alaric was silent for a long moment.

Then—

"That is enough," the Duke declared.

Lucien lowered his blade, nodding. "Not bad, little brother. You might actually survive in this world after all."

Aldric swallowed the bile in his throat and straightened his back.

He was exhausted.

But he had passed the test.

And for the first time, his father truly looked at him.

Not as a failure.

Not as a disappointment.

But as something new.

As someone worth watching.