Chapter 31: The Trial of Endurance

The morning sun had barely risen above the eastern mountains.

Yet the training grounds outside Blackwood Manor were already filled with movement.

Nearly eighteen hundred applicants stood in rows stretching across the valley.

Some wore polished knight armor.

Others had patched leather.

Many possessed nothing more than old boots and determination.

No matter their background...

Today, they would all begin the same trial.

Kael stood atop a wooden platform overlooking the assembled crowd.

Beside him stood Darius, Edwin, Walter, Lily, Bram, Garrick, and Captain Roland.

Behind them fluttered a new banner.

A black flag.

At its center...

A silver dragon wrapped around an imperial crown.

It was the first time the symbol had been revealed.

The crowd immediately noticed it.

One mercenary whispered,

"...That's beautiful."

Another frowned.

"I've never seen that crest before."

Walter smiled proudly.

"Neither has the Empire."

Kael stepped forward.

"Today..."

"The Black Dragon Banner is officially born."

The wind caught the banner.

The dragon seemed almost alive as it rippled through the air.

Darius walked to the front carrying a long wooden box.

He slowly opened it.

Inside...

There were fifty black cloth armbands.

Nothing fancy.

No armor.

No medals.

No expensive equipment.

Just black cloth embroidered with a silver dragon.

The applicants exchanged confused glances.

Darius raised one armband.

"This..."

"...is not a reward."

"It is a promise."

"If you earn one..."

"You represent Blackwood."

"If you disgrace it..."

"You disgrace everyone standing beside you."

He closed the box.

"Not one of these belongs to anyone..."

"...yet."

A murmur spread through the crowd.

Everyone wanted one.

Edwin stepped forward with several assistants carrying heavy sacks.

Each sack landed on the ground with a loud thud.

THUMP!

One after another.

Until there were nearly two hundred sacks.

Lily looked at Kael.

"Forty kilograms each."

Kael nodded.

"Fill them."

The assistants began handing out weighted packs.

Some applicants laughed confidently.

Others struggled just lifting them.

A young noble scoffed.

"This is excessive."

Nearby, an older mercenary chuckled.

"That's because you've never carried your own supplies."

Once everyone had received a pack, Darius raised his spear.

"The march begins now."

"No magic."

"No riding."

"No shortcuts."

"The route covers eighty kilometers."

"You have two days."

"If your squad loses even one member..."

"The entire squad fails."

The crowd groaned.

Some protested immediately.

"This isn't a military trial!"

"This is torture!"

A few even threw their packs to the ground.

Darius didn't react.

"If you wish to quit..."

He pointed toward the road leading away from Blackwood.

"Walk."

"No shame."

"But leave now."

Silence followed.

Then...

The first applicant picked up his bag.

Soon another one.

Then another.

Within moments...

Almost everyone lifted their packs.

Kael smiled.

"They've already passed the first lesson."

Lily tilted her head.

"What lesson?"

"They chose commitment."

The Long Road

The first ten kilometers were easy.

People joked.

Introduced themselves.

Compared weapons.

Boasted about old battles.

The mood remained optimistic.

By twenty kilometers...

The conversations had nearly disappeared.

Sweat soaked through clothing.

Heavy breathing replaced laughter.

Boots became coated in mud after crossing a shallow river.

Several applicants already had blisters.

Kael wasn't watching from the manor.

He marched with them.

His own pack rested across his shoulders.

His boots became muddy just like everyone else's.

Victor Ravenshade noticed.

"You could've stayed behind."

Kael looked over.

"I could've."

"So why didn't you?"

"Because I expect no one to do something I'm unwilling to do myself."

Victor fell silent.

From a nearby hill, Grom watched quietly.

He wasn't carrying a pack.

He wasn't participating.

Darius had asked him to observe.

The old goblin wasn't watching who ran the fastest.

He was watching something else.

Who stopped to help?

Who complained?

Who inspired others.

Who broke?

Around midday...

The first collapse happened.

A young hunter stumbled.

His knees hit the dirt.

His breathing became ragged.

One member of his squad cursed.

"We're wasting time."

Another simply kept walking.

A third...

Stopped.

Without saying a word...

He picked up the fallen hunter's pack and slung it over his own shoulder.

Now carrying nearly eighty kilograms...

He resumed walking.

The squad stared.

The exhausted hunter whispered,

"...Why?"

The young man smiled.

"Because if you fail..."

"We all fail."

High above...

Kael saw everything.

So did Darius.

The old general smiled.

"Remember his face."

Kael nodded.

"I already have."

Trouble on the Road

Late in the afternoon...

The march entered a narrow canyon.

Steep cliffs rose on both sides.

Walter frowned.

"I don't like this place."

Neither did Kael.

The system suddenly appeared.

"Danger Detected"

Hostile Mana Signatures:

12

Distance:

Approximately 150 meters.

Threat Level:

Moderate.

Recommendation:

Prepare for combat.

Kael immediately raised his hand.

"Halt!"

Nearly eighteen hundred applicants stopped.

Confused murmurs spread through the line.

Victor frowned.

"What's wrong?"

Kael didn't answer.

Instead...

He slowly drew his sword.

The sound of steel leaving its sheath echoed through the canyon.

Darius looked at him.

"You sense it too?"

Kael nodded once.

"Yes."

"Good."

Without warning...

An arrow shot from the cliff above.

It wasn't aimed at Kael.

It was aimed at one of the exhausted recruits.

THUNK!

The arrow buried itself into the ground inches from the man's foot.

A second later...

Dark figures appeared along the canyon walls.

Not bandits.

Goblin raiders.

Twelve of them.

Armed with crude bows and jagged blades.

The recruits immediately panicked.

"Monsters!"

"Form up!"

"Protect yourselves!"

Some reached for weapons.

Others looked ready to flee.

Grom's eyes narrowed from the distant hill.

He recognized the markings painted across their armor.

"...Foolish children."

These weren't soldiers.

They were young goblin raiders seeking glory.

And unless someone stopped them...

The Black Dragon Trials were about to become a battlefield.