The heirs gathered at the treeline, where the ground turned from packed dirt to wild undergrowth. Overhead, mana drones floated in steady formation, their pale glow catching every movement, every word. No one could pretend this was private—not when half the continent's most powerful families were watching.
A man with chestnut hair and a rigid stance stepped forward, dressed in the navy cloak of Nivaria's officials. His voice cut through the murmurs.
"The Hunt of Inheritance begins now. For the next seven days, your strength and judgment will decide your worth. Survive, hunt, and endure. Go."
The effect was immediate. Groups broke off at once—some heirs rushing in packs, others sprinting into the shadows to claim territory before rivals could. The forest seemed to swallow them whole, branches creaking, leaves shivering under their passage.
Noel stood where he was, arms loosely crossed, watching the chaos unfold. 'Like a race to see who dies first. Brilliant strategy.'
