Chapter 35- Valor Time

Fifteen minutes.

The trial grounds thrummed with magic, the very air vibrating with anticipation and adrenaline. From the highest tower to the outer barricades, all of Andopeer held its breath.

Half a million souls had answered the call.

Fighters, rebels, shifters, witches, dragons, mercs, healers, bards turned blade wielders, kitchen staff with grudge born battle rage, anyone and everyone who had something to prove.

They were all here.

And they were all being watched.

On the highest balcony overlooking the arena, Rhiannan lounged like a war goddess on maternity leave.

Her bump rested beneath a flowing deep green tunic, her golden circlet caught the sun, and her auburn hair spilled around her like wildfire. Azarion cradled her head in his lap, fingers trailing through her hair with slow devotion. Elisha knelt at her feet, strong hands working circles into her swollen arches, steam occasionally puffing from his nose whenever Faenet zoomed in too close. Liam, ever the dramatic vampire prince, sat at her side feeding her bacon and grapes with zero shame and infinite flair.

"She deserves a throne made of feathers and cheese," Liam declared, placing a grape gently in her mouth. "And I will build it myself, dammit."

Sasha's voice crackled overhead.

"Faenet, brace yourselves. We are now ten minutes from the beginning of the Trial of Valor. Please refrain from throwing enchanted panties onto the field. Yes, we see you, row seventeen."

Up above, Sable patrolled the sky like a storm given form, black wings stretched wide as his demon eyes scanned the clouds for any sign of an ambush. His body radiated warning, warding, and violence barely caged. He hadn't spoken in an hour, but everyone knew what he was thinking.

If the Forgotten King dared show up today, Sable would burn him from the sky.

Back on the ground, Kaleb stood near the southern quadrant, arms crossed and stance wide as he assessed the formation lines one last time. His mate was on display. His kingdom was under watch. And there wasn't a damn thing he hadn't prepped for.

Arwen was posted at the main gate, barking last minute instructions into a floating comm stone. His tone was sharp, confident, a born general. If anyone looked into his eye too long, they'd flinch from the sheer level of controlled chaos he was holding together.

From their balcony, Rhiannan watched them all with a heart full of pride and ankles full of rage.

"These babies better be taking notes," she muttered, "because I'm not pushing them out just for them to slack on family legacy."

Azarion chuckled, brushing his fingers along her temple. "They're already training in there."

"Good," she groaned. "I want a warrior and a scholar, or a ferret with vengeance issues. Either way, someone who takes after me."

Faenet exploded with reactions. Comments flew across the screens:

💬 "LOOK AT HER. LIVING ICON."

💬"Liam is hand feeding the Queen? My man can't even find matching socks."

💬"AZARION PETTING HER LIKE A SACRED CAT. I'M DEAD."

💬"Who's that foot rub legend? Marry me, steam daddy."

"Five minutes remaining," Sasha announced. "Contestants, assume entry formation. And please remember, this is not a death match. Killing is discouraged but not forbidden. Play nice ish."

The contestants gathered like a sea of willpower.

A half million strong.

Armor clinked. Magic sparked. Wings fluttered. Teeth bared. Prayers whispered.

A single booming drum began to pound, deep and slow, counting down the final minute.

Sasha's voice returned, this time lower, resonant, ancient.

"People of Andopeer. Warriors of every realm. Witness the rise of those who would protect our kingdom. Witness the fire that forges legends."

The drum grew louder.

"Ten…"

Rhiannan gripped Azarion's hand.

"Nine…"

The crowd stilled.

"Eight…"

Magic surged across the arena, igniting the glyphs carved into the stone.

"Seven…"

Rhiannan's mates gathered behind her in silent formation.

"Six…"

Faenet went global. Every screen, every crystal, every realm.

"Five…"

The arena gates began to glow.

"Four…"

Somewhere, a child held their breath. Somewhere else, a god watched.

"Three…"

Elisha inhaled a wisp of smoke and exhaled calm.

"Two…"

Sable circled once above, wings casting a massive shadow across the sand.

"One…"

Silence.

Then...

"BEGIN."

The gates roared open.

Magic flared. The arena shifted and reformed in real time, spikes, traps, illusions, elemental zones. Trial One was here.

Screams, laughter, the clash of steel and fire. It was beautiful and brutal and glorious.

By the end of the first hour, a quarter of the contestants had already been eliminated.

A few were carried out by healers.

Two died with honor, their names recorded in the divine scroll.

But the rest?

They fought.

They endured.

And as Rhiannan watched with tear-pricked eyes and a mouth full of Liam fed grapes, she whispered to the sky,

"We're building something real."

The sun burned high over the Trial Grounds, its golden light streaked with hints of crimson, as if the sky itself knew how much had been spilled below.

The arena was alive with noise and fire. Bodies moved like a living organism, blades clashed, spells detonated, dirt flew, and sweat mixed with blood under the endless roar of battle.

On the royal balcony, the dream team arrived with a wave of dark energy and fanfare.

Reyna swept in like a divine oracle goddess on a mission, her long coat whipping behind her. Soris stalked beside her, wings half visible and radiating judgment. Iriel looked effortlessly regal, void eyes scanning the battlefield with razor sharp precision, Neressa gliding beside him like a sea kissed storm. Liora Sparkwhistle buzzed in the air, pink wings leaving glitter trails behind her that stuck to the nearest guards. Bruxxa didn't walk, she prowled, and the hounds trailing her heels growled low at anyone who dared breathe too close.

They found seats beside Rhiannan's platform, flanking her in a protective semi circle like death in lipstick and leathers.

"About time you showed up," Rhiannan grinned, eating another grape from Liam's hand. "Trial's already gotten bloody."

"Perfect," Reyna said, eyes glowing. "I was starting to get bored."

🩸 Contestant POV 1: Kaelis Ironvein – Dwarf Shifter Hybrid, Age 36

Kaelis slammed his hammer into the enchanted boulder, cracking it down the middle and sending sparks flying.

His lungs heaved. His beard was soaked. His enchanted gauntlet was cracked from the last explosion trap, but he was still standing.

Around him, three contestants lay groaning in the dust. Disqualified. One had fainted. Another had lost their sword and just… walked out.

Kaelis roared and kept going.

"I didn't dig my way out of a collapsed mountain just to quit now!"

Faenet comments scrolled across his live feed:

💬"MY MONEY'S ON THE STUBBY BEAST WITH THE SMOLDERING SIDE EYE."

💬"Bro punched a fireball. A FIREBALL."

💬"Ironvein is daddy coded. Send help."

He finished his round by flipping a full grown dire boar with his bare hands, roared into the sky, and collapsed in the mud.

Passed.

🌪️ Contestant POV 2: Zhera Windcaller – Sylph Air Witch, Age 29

She floated through the illusion field with ghost light steps, barely disturbing the dust.

Her tattoos glowed faintly, magic humming along her skin as she whispered incantations into the wind.

When a dozen blade illusions shot at her, she pirouetted between them like a dancer in a death waltz, leaving only a trail of shimmering air currents behind.

Faenet went feral:

💬"I WOULD LET HER CHOKE ME WITH A WIND SPELL ANY DAY."

💬"Zhera is an actual goddess, prove me wrong."

💬"She just called down a mini tornado to disarm that dude. I'm in love."

She reached the final platform, drew a sigil in the air, and levitated across with elegance and zero fucks.

Passed.

💀 Contestant POV 3: Thorne – No Clan, Ancient Vampire, Age ???

No one knew where he came from. Except Liam who watched his bestie with pride and a slight bit of worry.

He didn't speak. Didn't blink. Just moved like a shadow that bled.

He walked straight through the gauntlet, didn't dodge, didn't run. Just took the hits. Fire, ice, spikes, nothing slowed him. His vampire speed was unreal.

He cracked a wyvern illusion in half with his bare hands and stared dead into the Faenet cam before licking blood off his knuckles.

💬"What. The. Fuck."

💬"MOM I'M SCARED."

💬"If Thorne asks for my soul, I'm not even gonna ask questions."

He didn't even look relieved when he passed.

Just walked into the shadows and vanished.

Passed.

Three brutal, glorious hours later…

A horn blared across the skies.

A thunderous, divine note that silenced even the most rabid spectators.

Sasha's voice cut through the arena like a god's whisper in a nightclub.

"TRIAL ONE COMPLETE. All participants cease movement immediately. Results processing now…"

A glowing number appeared above the arena:

125,000 ELIMINATED.

The remaining crowd stared in stunned silence.

Then.....

375,000 PASSED.

Faenet erupted in cheering, screaming, crying, howling, flashing emojis and confetti spells and exploding holographic banners.

Sasha spoke again.

"If your name is among the eliminated, do not despair. You have proven yourself. You now report to me for war assignment. All eliminated contestants will be offered a position within the support forces of our new kingdom. Each of you will be relocated to our new residential complex, where housing, training, and daily job placements await you."

Maps and glowing instructions filled the sky.

"You have one hour to report to the registration station. Welcome to the war effort."

Rhiannan wiped her eyes, overwhelmed. "We keep everyone. No wasted potential. No forgotten hands."

Kaleb stepped forward, his voice amplified by Sasha's speakers.

"ATTENTION REMAINING TRIAL WARRIORS," he bellowed. "If you passed and wish to remain stationed here as a soldier or castle guard, report to me and Arwen immediately. We will conduct interviews and place you in our ranks by nightfall."

Arwen's voice followed, sharp and clear. "If you wish to advance to Trial Two, register with Sasha through your smart brain crystal. You will receive a code. No code, no entry. That trial begins tomorrow morning. Bring your courage. Leave your ego."

Kaleb smirked and shouted, "Congratulations to our warriors! What a fucking day!"

Cheers erupted from the crowd, fire spells exploded harmlessly into the air, and the dream team raised their glasses from the balcony.

Rhiannan leaned back in her seat, hands on her belly, eyes burning with pride.

One trial down.

Two to go.

And this kingdom?

Was becoming unstoppable.