The next day, as the sun rose over the bustling city of Andelheim, Valeria made her way through the streets, her steps purposeful and her mind focused. The lingering calm from her early morning training gave her a sense of clarity, though the weight of the tournament ahead still rested on her shoulders.
The streets were already alive with activity. Vendors shouted to passersby, displaying their wares—swords, armor, and potions—all aimed at the warriors and mages preparing for the tournament. The hum of excitement filled the air, but Valeria paid little attention to it, her thoughts fixed on the task at hand.
As she approached the center of the city, the tournament registration stall came into view. A large crowd had gathered, some eagerly chatting about the upcoming matches, others nervously clutching their identity cards as they waited their turn. The stall itself was a simple but well-constructed tent, with banners bearing the insignia of Marquis Aldrich Ventor flapping gently in the breeze.
Valeria paused for a moment, taking in the sight.
And then she sighed quietly as she observed the long line of people ahead of her, her brows furrowing in mild frustration. ‘Even in the morning, the line is this long… I should have come much earlier,’ she thought, silently reprimanding herself for not anticipating the rush.
There were numerous registration stalls scattered around the city, but she had chosen this one because it was the closest to where she had trained earlier on the outskirts.
‘Maybe I should have chosen one of the others,’ she mused, glancing at the impatient crowd. She hadn’t expected such a long queue this early, especially at a smaller stall like this. As she considered her options, a question lingered in her mind—why was this line moving so slowly?
Just as she was about to contemplate finding another stall, a loud voice cut through the chatter around her.
“Attention! Attention, all participants!” The announcer, a burly man with a booming voice, stood at the front of the stall. “Registrations will close at noon sharp! All participants must be finished by that point. After 1 P.M., no further entries will be accepted!”
The crowd murmured in response, some whispering in concern while others surged forward, hoping to speed up the process. Valeria’s eyes narrowed slightly. ‘So that’s why it’s taking so long… Everyone’s rushing to get in before the cutoff,’ she realized.
She had been traveling on the horse for the last week and a half, and she had also spent quite a bit of time deciding whether she should leave her knights or not.
That was why she was this late.
‘I mismanaged my time.’
She did not know today was the last day of the registration period. She did not find any reason to register immediately or ask about the tournament when she came to the city yesterday since she was tired, but now she regretted the fact that she made such a decision.
Valeria sighed inwardly, her eyes scanning the long line ahead of her. ‘I should have planned better,’ she thought, chastising herself for not managing her time more efficiently..
‘I didn’t even know today was the last day for registration,’ she mused, regretting her decision to forgo asking about the tournament details when she had arrived in the city the day before. She had been too exhausted to think straight then, but now she wished she had pushed through the fatigue and gathered more information.
She glanced around, wondering if she should try another registration stall. ‘Maybe another stall would be faster,’ she considered, already picturing herself weaving through the busy streets to find one. But then her thoughts darkened as she imagined encountering a line just as long—if not longer—at another stall.
If she left now, she’d lose her place here, and what if the other stalls were the same? Worse, what if she ran out of time completely and missed the cutoff?
Her fingers tightened around the strap of her bag. It was the first time she had found herself in such a dilemma, unsure of how to proceed. The pressure was mounting, and the indecision gnawed at her. ‘What if I make the wrong choice?’
After a long, drawn-out breath, she made her decision. ‘I’ll stick with this stall. I can’t afford to risk everything by moving to another line.’ It wasn’t worth the gamble.
Valeria settled her stance, committing to the wait, even though she still felt uneasy. This was no time to let uncertainty take hold of her. With her place secured in the line, she steeled herself, determined to see this through.
*******
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The outskirts of Andelheim were buzzing with an even greater sense of chaos than the day before. The line to enter the city stretched far beyond, winding along the road in an unruly mass of people, carts, and animals. The sun blazed down on the gathered crowd, making tempers flare, and it seemed as though every other person was embroiled in some sort of argument or dispute.
Shouts echoed across the dusty road as quarrels broke out in various parts of the line. Some were arguing over cutting in line, while others seemed ready to throw punches over whose horse or cart took up too much space. The hot air was filled with frustration and impatience, and the guards stationed near the gates were doing their best to maintain order, though they were clearly overwhelmed.
In the midst of the chaos, a disturbance caught the attention of several onlookers. A horse, moving at a steady trot, made its way past the outskirts of the queue. The animal’s dark coat gleamed in the sunlight, its legs kicking up small clouds of dust as it flapped its hooves on the ground, making its way effortlessly through the crowd, avoiding the skirmishes.
Riding atop the horse was a young man, his face obscured beneath a wide straw hat that shielded him from the sun’s relentless glare. His posture was relaxed, almost carefree, as if the noise and tension around him had no effect.
Draped over his shoulder was a cat with pristine white fur, its coat shining like snow under the bright sun. The feline’s emerald eyes lazily scanned the crowd, occasionally flicking its tail as it perched comfortably on its master’s shoulder.
As the young man trotted past the crowd, the initial curiosity from the onlookers quickly turned to disdain. His clothes, though functional, were worn and faded from travel, and the state of his attire didn’t fit the image of someone worthy of note. Murmurs spread through the crowd as people glanced at him, some scoffing or sneering at his seemingly unremarkable appearance.
“Look at him, acting all high and mighty with those rags on,” one person muttered, earning a few nods from those around them. A group of younger men chuckled under their breath, mocking the young man’s worn-out straw hat and dust-covered clothes.
“Who does he think he is?” another voice chimed in. “Walking through like he owns the place.”
Despite their mockery, there was an unspoken tension in the air. Even though the crowd couldn’t sense any mana from the young man, they felt a subtle, unexplainable pressure that made them uneasy. Some of the more experienced Awakened in the line exchanged wary glances, sensing that something was off, though they couldn’t place why.
“Strange… I can’t sense a thing from him,” one man muttered to his companion, who frowned in agreement.
“Me neither, but there’s… something,” the companion replied, his eyes narrowing.
The white-furred cat perched on the young man’s shoulder flicked its tail lazily, its sharp emerald eyes scanning the crowd as if completely aware of their thoughts. The quiet grace of the cat only added to the strange, silent presence they exuded.
Unfazed by the muttered remarks or the prying eyes, the young man rode his horse forward, the clopping of hooves steady and measured.
His path didn’t waver, and he didn’t spare a glance at the commoners waiting in the long, chaotic queue. Instead, his horse moved past them and toward the noble’s entrance, where a smaller gate, much less crowded, stood guard.
As the young man neared the noble’s entrance, the city guards standing at the gate stiffened. They exchanged glances, their eyes scanning the young man’s worn clothes and the dust-covered horse beneath him. His appearance didn’t match the well-dressed nobles and affluent travelers who typically passed through this entrance.
One of the guards, a tall man with a stern expression, stepped forward and raised a hand, signaling for the young man to stop. “Hold it right there,” the guard barked, his voice gruff. “This gate’s reserved for nobles and dignitaries. You should be in the commoner’s queue.”
The other guards nodded in agreement, eyeing the young man’s simple attire with a mix of suspicion and disdain. “You think you can just slip in here, dressed like that? Trying to cheat your way through?” another guard added, his tone laced with condescension.
The young man remained silent, his face still partially obscured by the wide brim of his straw hat. He made no move to argue or explain himself. Instead, with a graceful ease, he jumped down from his horse. The motion was fluid, as if he were weightless, landing softly on the ground without a sound.
The guards tensed slightly, their eyes narrowing, but the young man paid them no mind. He calmly approached the guard who had spoken first, his steps measured and purposeful. Reaching into the folds of his worn clothes, he retrieved a small card from a hidden pocket.
Without a word, he handed the ID card to the guard.
The guard, still frowning as he glanced down at the ID card, suddenly felt the faintest brush of movement against his uniform.
“Here, take this.”
