Chapter 33: The Weight of Leadership

The canyon fell silent.

The goblin raiders had disappeared into the forest, carrying their wounded chief.

Only the echoes of retreating footsteps remained.

The recruits stood frozen.

Not because they had won.

But because what they had witnessed challenged everything they had been taught.

A goblin...

Had protected a human prince.

Kael sheathed his sword.

He looked across the nearly eighteen hundred applicants.

Some still held their weapons.

Others remained behind their shields.

Several healers continued treating the wounded despite the battle being over.

He silently took note of each of them.

The trial...

Was still happening.

Darius stepped into the center of the canyon.

His spear struck the ground once.

BOOM.

"Gather."

His voice carried naturally through the valley.

Within minutes, every squad formed lines once again.

Not as orderly as before.

But far more disciplined.

The battle had changed them.

Darius slowly walked between the rows.

"I've watched armies for over fifty years."

"I've seen men boast before battle."

"I've seen them cry afterward."

He stopped in front of a young noble whose polished armor was now covered in dirt.

"You."

"What is your name?"

The young man straightened.

"Victor Ravenshade, General."

Darius nodded.

"You fought well."

Victor smiled proudly.

Then Darius continued.

"You also abandoned your squad."

The smile vanished.

"You chased glory."

"You left your healer."

"You left your shield bearer."

"You left your responsibility."

Victor lowered his head.

"I..."

"There are no excuses."

Darius didn't raise his voice.

He didn't need to.

"One reckless charge."

"One moment of pride."

"And your entire squad dies."

Victor clenched his fists.

"...Understood."

Further down the line, Darius stopped before another applicant.

A broad-shouldered man carrying two backpacks.

The same recruit who had carried his exhausted teammate earlier.

"What is your name?"

The man scratched the back of his neck.

"Elias Thorn."

"Occupation?"

"Farmer."

Several nobles laughed quietly.

A farmer?

Darius ignored them.

"When your teammate collapsed..."

"Why did you carry his pack?"

Elias looked confused.

"Because..."

"...he couldn't."

The answer was so simple...

That the laughter immediately stopped.

Darius turned toward the crowd.

"Remember this man's answer."

He pointed at Elias.

"This..."

"...is the beginning of leadership."

Kael smiled faintly.

Not because Elias was strong.

But because he never stopped thinking about the person beside him.

The system appeared.

"Candidate Evaluation"

Elias Thorn

Occupation: Farmer

Combat Talent: C

Leadership Potential: A+

Loyalty Potential: Extremely High

Recommendation:

Future Officer Candidate

Kael dismissed the screen.

This was exactly why the trials existed.

A tournament would've overlooked someone like Elias.

Leadership couldn't always be measured with a sword.

The March Continues

The recruits resumed their journey.

This time...

No one laughed.

The battle had stripped away pride.

People who had never spoken before now shared water.

One squad repaired another's broken boot.

A healer treated strangers without asking their names.

Slowly...

The trial was achieving its purpose.

Late that afternoon...

The road climbed into the Graystone Hills.

The climb was steep.

Loose rocks shifted beneath every step.

The heavy packs felt twice as heavy.

More recruits began falling behind.

One young man stumbled to his knees.

His expensive cloak tore against the rocks.

He cursed loudly.

"My stupid family..."

"I should've never come."

The man beside him extended a hand.

"Need help?"

The noble looked up.

The one offering help wore faded clothes.

No crest.

No family insignia.

Just a worn leather breastplate.

He hesitated.

Then accepted.

"My name's Leon."

The commoner smiled.

"I'm Marcus."

The two continued climbing together.

Kael happened to overhear their conversation.

Something about Leon caught his attention.

Not because he was strong.

But because of the surname listed during registration.

Leon Ashford.

That night...

The recruits made camp beneath the stars.

Small fires burned across the valley.

Some people sharpened weapons.

Others cooked.

Many simply collapsed from exhaustion.

Kael walked quietly between the camps.

He wasn't inspecting.

He was listening.

People spoke more honestly when they believed no nobles were nearby.

"...I heard he's actually eating the same food as us."

"...No prince would do that."

"...General Darius follows him."

"...Even that goblin respects him."

"...Maybe Blackwood really is different."

Kael smiled slightly.

Then another conversation caught his attention.

He stopped.

Hidden behind a wagon.

Two young men sat beside a fire.

One wore a faded cloak bearing the crest of House Ashford.

The other carried the insignia of House Wintermere.

Neither noticed Kael nearby.

Ashford sighed.

"I almost didn't come."

Wintermere nodded.

"My father said joining the Tenth Prince would ruin my future."

Ashford laughed bitterly.

"What future?"

"We're branch blood."

"They'll never let us inherit."

"We'll never lead."

"We'll never matter."

Wintermere poked the fire with a stick.

"The Main Bloodline gets everything."

"The best tutors."

"The best weapons."

"The best marriages."

"We get..."

He shrugged.

"Whatever's left."

Ashford stared into the flames.

"I don't even use my family name anymore."

"People hear 'Ashford'..."

"...and immediately ask..."

"'Main branch?'"

"When I say no..."

"They stop listening."

Kael remained completely still.

Everything Darius had told him about the Empire...

He was now hearing firsthand.

The system quietly activated.

"Observation Recorded"

Imperial Branch Bloodline Discrimination Confirmed.

Recommendation:

Future Reform Opportunity.

Kael dismissed the screen.

Then...

He stepped into the firelight.

The two young men immediately stood.

"Y-Your Highness!"

Both hurriedly bowed.

Kael looked at them for a long moment.

Then asked only one question.

"What are your names?"

The taller one answered first.

"Leon..."

He hesitated.

"...Leon Ashford."

The second one swallowed.

"Marcus Wintermere."

Kael nodded.

He didn't ask whether they belonged to the main branch.

He didn't ask their rank.

He didn't ask their family connections.

Instead...

He asked,

"What can you do?"

The two young men blinked.

"...Excuse me?"

"What are your skills?"

Leon slowly answered.

"I'm a swordsman."

Marcus scratched his head.

"I build bridges..."

"And defensive walls."

Kael smiled.

"Good."

"We'll need both."

He turned and walked away.

Leaving the two speechless.

Marcus finally whispered,

"...He didn't ask."

Leon stared after the prince.

"No."

"He didn't."

For the first time in years...

Neither of them felt like lesser members of their own bloodline.

They simply felt...

Seen.

High above the campsite...

Darius watched from a rocky overlook.

Grom stood beside him.

"You planned that?"

Grom asked.

Darius smiled knowingly.

"I didn't have to."

"The boy has good instincts."

He looked down at Kael speaking with ordinary recruits around another campfire.

"He doesn't collect followers."

"He finds people the world has overlooked."

The old general's smile grew.

"And one day..."

"...those overlooked people will build an empire."