Castor found Kael in the preparation grounds an hour before the finals.
"One last thing," Castor said without preamble.
Kael looked up from his meditation. "I know what you're going to say."
"Do you?" Castor stepped closer. "Because I've been watching Aridel's bracket run, and he's different now. Exhausted, but sharper somehow. Fighting on instinct instead of analysis."
"He's still going to lose," Kael replied calmly.
"Likely," Castor agreed. "But he's going to push you harder than anyone else in this tournament. I wanted you to know that I see it. And I want you to understand why." Castor paused. "He has nothing to lose and everything to prove. You have everything already. The difference in mindset matters."
Kael considered this. "You've said that before."
"I know. But it's worth repeating." Castor sat down across from him. "Listen, I've fought thousands of swordsmen in my life. Some were stronger than me. Some were faster. Some had better training or better circles. But the ones who pushed me hardest weren't always the strongest. They were the ones who understood that they had nothing to lose."
"What's your point?" Kael asked.
"My point is that you've never fought someone truly desperate. You've faced people who want to win. This boy fights like he needs to win. There's a difference. When someone is desperate, they stop making safe choices. They stop fighting defensively. They commit fully because the alternative is unacceptable." Castor leaned forward. "And desperation can make people do impossible things."
"He's still going to lose," Kael repeated.
"I think you'll understand something about yourself after this match that you didn't understand before. I think you'll realize that being the strongest isn't the same as being tested."
Kael met his brother's eyes. "You really think he'll push me?"
"I know he will. I've watched him adapt to every single opponent he's faced. He's fought stronger opponents. He's fought opponents with mana. He's fought opponents with experience. And every time, he found a way to come closer." Castor stood. "Don't underestimate him because he's a commoner. Don't underestimate him because he has no circles. Underestimate the power of someone who has nothing left to lose."
Kael nodded slowly. "I won't."
"Good." Castor placed a hand on his brother's shoulder. "That's all I wanted to say."
Kael sat in silence after Castor left, thinking about a commoner with no circles, no training, no backing, who'd somehow made it to the finals of the Imperial Squire Selection Tournament. For the first time since the tournament began, Kael Montrose was irked, slightly annoyed at the thought that his brother could recognize a commoner to be even close to the same level as himself, a touted genius.
The crowds were already filling the arena when Aridel arrived at the preparation grounds.
He found Kael standing alone, waiting.
"Aridel," Kael greeted him with a slight nod. "Congratulations on making the finals."
"Kael," Aridel replied. He took a breath and said what he'd been thinking since their first match. "I'm going to beat you eventually."
Kael smiled. It was a polite smile, the kind that acknowledged humor without condescension. "That's admirable. I respect the determination." He paused. "But understand this: you won't beat me today. You likely won't beat me in our lifetimes. The gap between us isn't something you can close through will alone."
"Why do you say that?" Aridel asked. "You said I fought well last time. You said I was rare."
"You are rare," Kael acknowledged. "Your ability to adapt is genuinely exceptional. Your will is genuinely exceptional. But rarity doesn't equal superiority." Kael stepped closer. "The gap between us isn't about effort or determination. It's about fundamental understanding. I don't just understand swordsmanship better than you. I understand it differently. At a level that takes most people lifetimes to reach, if they reach it at all."
"And you reached it how?" Aridel pressed. "Through some natural gift? Through your 'talent' in cultivating mana?"
"Partly," Kael admitted. "But mostly through something you don't have. I have the luxury of never having to doubt myself. Every instinct I have is correct. Every decision is optimal. I've never had to compensate for physical limitations or curse my own body." He looked at Aridel directly. "You're fighting an opponent and fighting your own limitations at the same time. That's admirable. It's also insurmountable."
Aridel was quiet for a moment. "Then why did you agree to this match? Why not just decline?"
"Because," Kael said, "Castor told me something I needed to hear. He said desperation could make you do impossible things. And he was right. You've come closer in this tournament than anyone thought possible. That interests me."
"You want to see if I can beat you," Aridel said.
"No," Kael replied. "I want to see what you do when you have nothing left. Because I think that moment will tell me something about myself." He extended his hand. "You've earned the right to be called my rival, if that's what you want to be. Not because you'll beat me. But because you push me to be better than I would be otherwise."
Aridel took his hand. "That's all I'm asking for."
The arena fell silent when they walked onto the sand.
The crowd knew what they were about to see: the tournament's two most outstanding participants, one a prodigy who'd dominated every opponent, one a cursed commoner who'd somehow survived the impossible.
The match official raised his hand.
"Begin!"
Aridel moved first, and this time his opening sequence was different. Instead of aggressive probing, he started with measured strikes designed to feel out Kael's positioning. He'd learned from their first fight that raw aggression played into Kael's hands.
Kael parried easily, but Aridel noticed something: his response was fractionally slower than it had been before. Not much. But measurable.
Aridel adjusted. He began varying his tempo, mixing fast exchanges with sudden pauses, trying to disrupt whatever rhythm Kael relied on. Each variation forced Kael to recalibrate slightly.
For the first time in any match against him, Aridel saw Kael's movements become less automatic. Kael was actually thinking now, actually responding rather than predicting.
Fifteen exchanges. Twenty. Aridel was fighting smarter and harder. He was using what he'd learned to push against Kael's confidence, testing whether the prodigy could adapt.
Kael adapted. But not immediately. There was a moment of lag, a half-second of uncertainty before Kael found the counter.
And in that half-second, Aridel almost landed a blow. His blade came within inches of Kael's shoulder before Kael sidestepped.
It was the closest Aridel had come. It was still nowhere near close enough.
Kael began to move more deliberately after that. No more passive defense. He engaged actively, pressing forward, forcing Aridel to commit to defense instead of probing offense. The tempo increased.
Thirty exchanges now. Aridel's body was screaming. His stamina was draining faster than it should. But his mind was clear. He could see Kael's patterns now. He could predict where the prodigy was moving before the movement committed.
It still didn't matter. Prediction wasn't execution, and execution was what mattered in a fight.
Kael's strikes came faster, smoother, each one building on the last. Aridel defended desperately, his blade singing as it met Kael's over and over. But he was falling behind now, each parry coming slower, each repositioning taking longer.
Forty exchanges. Aridel's vision was starting to blur. His arms felt like they were made of lead.
Then Kael pressed. Not hard, but deliberately, closing the distance, tightening the space between them. Aridel tried to create room and failed. Kael's next attack came from an angle Aridel couldn't defend against while retreating.
Aridel made a choice. Instead of defending, he committed to a counter. It was the move Castor had warned Kael about: desperation as a weapon. Aridel threw everything at a finishing blow that might land before Kael could respond.
Kael barely sidestepped it and in the same motion brought his blade across in a stroke that would have ended the match if executed fully.
Instead, it stopped an inch from Aridel's throat.
Aridel stood there, breathing hard, muscles trembling. He'd come closer this time. Forty exchanges instead of thirty. Better positioning. Nearly landing two strikes instead of zero.
It still wasn't enough, the battle ended the same way; A blade at his throat, with one word able to be said.
"Yield," Kael said quietly.
"Yield," Aridel replied.
The match official raised his hand. "Victor: Kael Montrose. Champion of the Imperial Squire Selection Tournament."
The crowd erupted. But they were cheering for both of them, acknowledging that they'd just witnessed something special: a genuine contest between two fighters of exceptional caliber and undeniable talent.
Kael helped Aridel up and for a moment, something passed between them that wasn't quite respect but was moving in that direction.
"You were better this time," Kael said.
"I'll be better next time too," Aridel replied.
Kael smiled. "I believe you."
The Selection Ceremony began two hours later.
The arena had been transformed. Fifty chairs were arranged in a semicircle on the sand, each one occupied by a candidate who'd placed in the top fifty. The stands were packed with nobility, military officers, and commoners who'd come to witness the moment when the tournament's winners became squires to Caldrithia's knights.
The officiating knight stepped forward. His voice carried across the arena with magical amplification.
"Candidates of the Imperial Squire Selection Tournament. You have proven yourselves worthy. You stand now at the threshold of service to the knights of Caldrithia. Those selected today will begin their formal training immediately. Those not selected may reapply next year or seek service with lesser houses. The selection begins now."
The first knight to step forward was the Imperial Knight Commander himself, Gareth Montayne. The crowd fell silent.
"Kael Montrose," Gareth Montayne announced. "Champion of this year's tournament. You have demonstrated peerless skill and promise. House Montrose has produced great knights, and you will carry that legacy forward." The Commander extended his hand. "By the Honor of Bericius: Will you serve as my squire?"
Kael rose and took his hand. "I will serve by the Honor Bericius."
The crowd cheered.The selections continued. The Second Knight of Caldrithia, Castor Montrose, selected a young noble with solid technique. A decorated general from the northern border selected a commoner fighter who'd shown surprising resilience. Knight after knight came forward, each selecting a squire, each announcing their choice to the crowd.
The selections were deliberate. Each knight spoke about why they'd chosen their squire. Some praised martial skill. Others praised character or potential. Some knights were brief, others verbose. Some selections drew roaring approval from the crowd. Others drew thoughtful nods.
After the first twenty selections, Aridel began to feel tension building. He was one of the highest-ranked candidates to not yet be selected. It was unusual. Most top ten finishers were already chosen.
Thirty selections were made. Forty. The remaining candidates in the chairs began to shift nervously. Some of the lower-ranked finishers were being passed over. Even though everyone in the Top 50 knew they had to get picked, getting picked by the wrong knight meant hell.
Aridel tried not to show his concern, but internally he was wondering: did someone not want a cursed commoner? Was there prejudice he hadn't anticipated? Had his curses become too well-known during the tournament?
His thought was spot on, the stigma around being a commoner was unavoidable and putrid. Not only that, the knowledge of his curse had spread, the general consensus was that taking him was a risk to the Legacy of that Knightdom.
Forty-five selections. Forty-seven. The crowd was quieter now, watching to see who the remaining candidates would be paired with.
Then a figure stepped forward from the crowd. He was in his late thirties, dressed in the armor of someone who'd achieved the Second Silver Circle status. His eyes were sharp, assessing. When his gaze landed on Aridel, there was recognition there. Understanding.
The officiating knight consulted his list. "Aridel of Cracktow, Group 23's Winner, Tournament Placement Second. You have been selected by Brennan Voss, The 12th Knight of Caldrithia, The Vice-Commander of the 3rd Imperial Army, Leader of the Second Order, Sole-Survivor of Voss Family, Recipient of the Medal of Bericius, and holder of the Second Silver Circle."
Brennan stepped onto the sand and walked directly to where Aridel sat. The crowd's murmurs had changed. They were curious now. Brennan Voss was a known quantity. A self-made knight. Someone who'd risen through merit alone.
"Aridel," Brennan said, speaking loudly enough for the crowd to hear. "I've watched your tournament run with great interest. You fought every match with intelligence and determination despite obvious limitations. You adapted to every opponent. You never broke." Brennan extended his hand. "I came to this tournament looking for a squire with the potential to become more than they are. I believe I've found him. Will you serve as my squire?"
Aridel stood and took his hand. "I will serve by the Honor of Bericius."
"Then swear it before the crowd and before Caldrithia."
Aridel knelt and spoke the traditional oath. When he rose, he was officially a squire of the Imperial Army, selected by a knight with genuine power and genuine interest in his potential.
Ethan was selected a moment after by a lesser knight but a respected one. When they saw each other afterward, Ethan grinned. "We made it."
"We did," Aridel agreed.
Brennan led him to a private chamber after the ceremony concluded.
"Your tournament record is impressive," Brennan said without preamble. "More importantly, I watched how you fought when you had nothing left. That tells me more about a person than any victory ever could."
Aridel nodded, unsure where this was going.
Brennan produced a small vial containing a subtle herb. The herb itself seemed to shift between gold and silver in the light, and there was an almost luminescent quality to it. The container was carved from jade and sealed with wax.
"This is called a Phoenix Heart Herb," Brennan said. "It's incredibly rare. Legendary tier. Its primary purpose is to help cultivators form their first mana circle. It works by opening the foundational pathways of the body, allowing mana to flow freely for the first time." Brennan held it up to the light. "When consumed, it specifically targets and cures Core Blockage, opening blocked mana channels completely and permanently. I've been saving this for the right moment."
He handed it to Aridel. "Use it when you're ready. It will change everything about your path forward."
Aridel took the vial carefully. It was warm to the touch, pulsing faintly with some kind of internal energy.
"Thank you," Aridel said.
"Don't thank me yet," Brennan replied. "You've only just leveled the playing field with other squires. Now comes the real work."
That evening, alone in the barracks, Aridel consumed the herb.
It tasted like starlight and ash. For a moment, nothing happened. Then he felt it: a deep, burning sensation in his chest, like something locked inside him was finally breaking open. The sensation spread through his body, and he could feel the blockage in his mana channels dissolving, clearing pathways that had been shut since birth.
When it passed, Aridel could feel the difference immediately. His mana channels, which had always felt resistant and blocked, now felt open and responsive. He could sense mana in the air around him. He could feel it flowing through his body.
He could finally use mana. By some miracle it had cured one of his 3 curses, Core Blockage.
Before the very moment, Juniel had processed the herb, making sure it was safe."Host has consumed unknown herb. Analyzing properties," Juniel's voice came through the system message.Juniel examined the description.
[Ding! Name: Phoenix Heart Herb Composition: Essence of phoenix rebirth, crystallized starlight, powdered celestial iron, distilled pure mana, bound with threads of world-tree bark. Function: Specifically designed to cure Core Blockage through complete channeling restoration. Permanently opens all blocked mana conduits. Allows mana cultivation to begin at hyper-functional level. Origin: System Reward (T8)]
Juniel fell silent, processing this strange data.
A System Reward meant the item had come from a system. Indicating that within Caldrithia, he wasn't alone, other systems were hiding out in the small country as well. Whether the system had Brennan as their host, or it was another system and the herb had trickled down to Brennan's hands, it was impossible to know with the little info he had.
Juniel filed the information away. For now, the facts were: Aridel had consumed a legendary herb. His Core Blockage had been cured. He could now use mana.
And somewhere in the city, Kael Montrose was beginning his formal training as a squire under the Imperial Knight Commander.
The tournament was over. The real journey was just beginning.