Chapter 43: Registration Day

Helheim City had been crowded when Sigurd arrived, but by the following morning the word seemed inadequate.

Before sunrise, the avenues leading north were already packed with carriages, mounted guards, servants, merchants, spectators and children wearing expressions ranging from excitement to barely concealed terror.

The annual entrance examination had apparently become an event for the entire city. Sigurd traveled with only Ottilie and Captain Hartwin, leaving Sylvia’s larger household escort behind.

Eventually even their carriage became more trouble than it was worth, so the three continued on foot toward the northern gate while the crowds flowed around them.

Beyond the colossal gate, the city ended and Westphalia began.

An enormous clearing stretched beneath the northern walls, broad enough to hold thousands without feeling cramped. Temporary registration stations stood in ordered rows across it, while barriers separated applicants from the families and spectators gathering around the perimeter. Beyond the clearing rose hundreds of undulating mountain ranges, layered one behind another until their distant silhouettes faded into the morning haze.

Forests covered the lower slopes, snow touched several distant summits, and banks of cloud drifted between the highest peaks. One mountain range dominated them all.

Sigurd tilted his head and caught brief glimpses through the clouds: gigantic walls cut into mountainsides, towers rising from cliffs, bridges spanning impossible gaps and structures whose true size was difficult to judge from this distance.

Ottilie followed his gaze and smiled. "That’s Helheim, Young Master. Or what the clouds are willing to show you of it."

Sigurd watched another section of the academy disappear behind rolling white mist before replying, "It looks less like an academy and more like someone built a city on top of a mountain."

Hartwin gave a quiet laugh beside him. "You’ll stop admiring the scenery after Helheim starts making you run across those mountains."

They entered the registration grounds shortly afterward. Thousands of ten-year-olds had already formed lines before dozens of stations where Helheim personnel checked documents and confirmed the three requirements for entry: age, Martial Soul awakening and Awakened Rank. Sigurd had barely begun examining the crowd when a girl’s voice came from his left.

A girl with ash-white hair and black roots had stopped several paces away, staring directly at him.

Her iron-grey eyes moved over his face with open curiosity before recognition brightened them, and she walked closer with a smile. "Sigurd? It really is you."

Sigurd recognized her from Sylvia’s dossier before she reached him.

Helena Di Grandel.

Helena clasped her hands behind her back and gave him an almost comically thorough inspection before saying, "We’ve technically been cousins for ten years, and somehow this is the first time we’ve actually spoken. That’s a little strange when I say it aloud."

Sigurd raised an eyebrow at her choice of words. "Technically?"

Helena’s smile widened as she realized how that sounded. "You know what I mean. We obviously didn’t become cousins today."

Before Sigurd could answer, four more children approached from the line Helena had abandoned. All carried the unmistakable features of Grandel blood to varying degrees, and Sigurd recognized every face. Sylvia had made certain he would.

Cassian Di Grandel reached them first. He carried himself with a straight-backed composure that seemed natural rather than practiced, and his gaze moved briefly from

Helena to Sigurd before he inclined his head. "Sigurd. It’s good that we finally meet properly. Hartwin mentioned that you only learned a few days ago that the five of us were entering Helheim this year."

Sigurd glanced toward Hartwin, who suddenly found the mountains fascinating, then looked back at Cassian. "Apparently everyone knew except me."

The boy beside Cassian laughed immediately. Konrad Di Grandel possessed the same family coloring, but whatever solemnity Cassian carried seemed completely absent from him.

He slipped both hands into his pockets and grinned as he told Sigurd, "Don’t take it personally. Helena forgot you existed until Hartwin mentioned your name."

Helena’s head snapped toward him. "I did not forget him, Konrad."

Konrad adopted such an innocent expression that Sigurd distrusted him immediately. "Of course not. You merely spent five years never asking where he was."

Helena’s cheeks tightened, but before she could retaliate, Isolde Di Grandel stepped between them with the ease of someone who had apparently done this many times.

Her gaze rested on Sigurd for several seconds, calm and assessing, before she said, "Ignore Konrad whenever possible. It saves time."

Konrad placed one hand over his chest as though she had wounded him. "Isolde, saying that in front of our cousin before I’ve had the opportunity to make a good impression is cruel."

Isolde didn’t even look at him when she answered, "You were never going to make a good impression."

Sigurd’s mouth twitched.

The fifth cousin had said nothing. Matthias Di Grandel stood slightly behind Cassian, his attention lowered toward the sword at Sigurd’s waist.

He studied the weapon long enough that Sigurd eventually looked directly at him. Matthias noticed and showed no embarrassment at being caught. Instead, his restrained expression finally showed interest as he asked, "You train primarily with the sword?"

Sigurd nodded. "Every day."

Matthias’s eyes sharpened slightly. "Good. We should spar sometime."

Cassian turned toward him with a quiet sigh. "You’ve known him for thirty seconds, Matthias."

Matthias looked at Cassian as though he genuinely couldn’t understand the objection. "That doesn’t prevent us from sparring."

Helena laughed, and even Isolde’s expression softened. Sigurd watched the five of them exchange looks and remarks with the effortless familiarity of people who had spent years together, and for a moment he became aware of something strangely awkward.

They were his cousins. By blood, they were closer to him than almost every child standing in this clearing. Yet the five already possessed their own rhythm, private jokes and habits. Sigurd stood just outside it.

It didn’t bother him exactly. His childhood had been spent almost entirely within Sylvia’s estate, training under Osric and pursuing his own progression.

He had never particularly wanted a collection of cousins running around him. Still, standing before them made the distance more obvious than it had been when they were merely five names Hartwin had mentioned over dinner.

Helena seemed to notice his silence. Her expression gentled, and she started to speak before a Helheim official shouted for their registration group to advance.

Cassian glanced toward the moving lines and gestured for the others to return.

Before leaving, he looked back at Sigurd and said, "We’ll have plenty of time inside Helheim. For now, let’s make sure all six of us actually get through registration without embarrassing the Main Line."

Konrad grinned as he followed Cassian and called back, "He’s worried about himself, Sigurd. Don’t let the speech fool you."

Cassian immediately reached for the back of Konrad’s collar, but Konrad slipped away laughing. Helena hurried after them while scolding Konrad for deliberately causing trouble, Isolde shook her head with visible resignation, and Matthias gave Sigurd’s sword one final glance before following the others.

Sigurd watched them disappear into their registration line.

Interesting.

His own line advanced soon afterward. Age was confirmed first through his registration documents and an identification artifact. Martial Soul awakening came next.

Finally, Sigurd placed his palm against a dark cultivation crystal and released a controlled stream of Vis from his Core.

Light immediately spread through the crystal. The examiner checked the result, glanced down at Sigurd’s name, then looked at him again. Recognition flickered across the man’s face for barely a heartbeat before professionalism returned.

The examiner marked the final section and handed Sigurd a black identification token. "Registration confirmed, Sigurd Di Grandel. Keep this token with you. You will need it tomorrow."

Sigurd closed his fingers around the token and nodded. "Understood."

With his own registration complete, he had more freedom to observe the clearing while waiting for Ottilie and Hartwin. Sylvia’s dossier became useful again.

The Seven Great Branches were all represented—Eisenwald, Drachenmark, Blutkron, Falkenrath, Nachtwald, Sturmhardt and Silberfang.

Sigurd recognized several of the children his mother had considered worth noting, including Tristan Eisenwald Var Grandel, Astrid Drachenmark Var Grandel and Alaric Blutkron Var Grandel. He didn’t bother studying them too closely yet. A dossier could tell him lineage, reputation and known abilities. The examination would tell him far more.

The Five High Vassal Houses were also present among the enormous gathering. Valerius, Drakenholt, Valstella and Morcant had all brought eligible children, but movement near the southern entrance suddenly drew considerably more attention.

A new delegation entered.

Its members differed greatly in complexion and features. Some possessed dark skin, others light or wheat-toned complexions, yet every one of them shared one unmistakable trait.

Pure white hair.

House Wargrave.

Ranked first among the Eighteen Vassal Houses.

Sigurd’s gaze settled on a boy near the front. His pure white hair was cut into a close buzz cut, and unlike several children around him, he wasn’t staring excitedly across the registration grounds. His expression remained calm as molten-gold eyes moved across the gathering. For an instant, a tiny golden arc flickered through one iris before disappearing.

Odin Wargrave Von Grandel.

Sigurd remembered the name.

By late afternoon, the final registration stations closed. Thousands had successfully qualified while others returned through the northern gate disappointed.

The successful applicants were gathered before an elevated platform as their families and attendants remained behind the barriers. A senior Helheim instructor stepped forward, waited for the clearing to settle, then announced that every registered applicant was to return before sunrise the following morning with their identification token.

Family members, servants, instructors and guards would go no farther.

The crowd slowly began dispersing after the announcement.

Sigurd remained where he was for several moments and looked toward Westphalia again. Clouds shifted around the distant mountains, briefly exposing the gigantic silhouette of Helheim before swallowing it once more.

Somewhere among the departing applicants were his five cousins, seven Great Branch standouts, children from the most powerful Vassal Houses and thousands of others who had all reached the same minimum threshold by ten years old.

For the first time, Sigurd was looking directly at his generation.

Tomorrow, he would find out what they were capable of.