Knock, knock.
A soft knocking came from his doors, but it stopped immediately… then started again. He ignored it. Sylas likes everything in order. He has a specific time he likes to wake up and do things.
He also knows that it's Elizabeth who is knocking at his door. His life as Arthur gifted him a unique skill, thanks to Merlin. Even when he's asleep, he is aware of his surroundings. He can hear heartbeats, footsteps.
But after several rounds of continuous knocking, he finally got out of bed and opened the door.
Elizabeth stood on the other side. He loomed over her.
"What?"
She lowered her head, her words stumbling while trying to speak.
"You have to go to the main house today, Sir Sylas."
He closed the door, showered, got dressed, grabbed his sword, and opened it again. Elizabeth was still waiting for him there, sitting on the floor next to the door.
"Let's go."
He handed her his sword, and they started walking. After a few steps, noticing she was struggling to keep up, he slowed down.
"Is breakfast ready?" he asked.
"Yes, but… we're running late. If we don't go now, we'll be—"
He didn't let her finish.
"Let's get breakfast first."
She was about to protest but instantly stopped when he turned and glanced at her.
He sat at the table, calmly eating toast and fruit. Elizabeth stood next to him, kept looking at him, then the watch. Back and forth. It bothered him. He doesn't like being rushed.
"Sit and eat."
That startled her.
"I can't."
"Do it."
His voice was cold, yet calm. Never once looking at her while eating.
She sat down on the seat next to him, eating nervously—like he was forcing her to eat. While eating, flashes of Camelot flickered through his mind. Looking around the table… he saw the phantoms of his family sitting across from him.
Without knowing it, he felt a drop of tears fall onto the back of his hand—but wiped them away before anyone noticed.
A maid entered with more fruit and noticed Elizabeth sitting with Sylas. Her eyes widened.
"Child, what are you doing sitting th—"
Before she could finish, Sylas turned his head toward her. One glare was enough to shut her up.
When he finished, Sylas and Elizabeth walked outside. They moved through the garden toward the main doors, where a cart waited for them—two horses hitched at the front.
He stepped forward, checking out the horses. Walked past the cart.
"Unhook that one," he said, pointing to the left horse.
"Sir?"
The man hesitated at first, but couldn't defy his order. Didn't ask questions after that. Quickly unlatched the harness.
Sylas climbed into the saddle with ease. Elizabeth stood there, confused. He turned to her.
"Come."
He reached out his arm. She hesitated at first, then took it. He pulled her up.
She sat in front of him, holding the sword tightly against her chest as if she were hugging it. The golden hilt glowed under the morning sun. Her legs draped to the right. Sylas held the reins around her, keeping her steady. She was nervous and shaky.
He looked at her.
"You will be okay."
"So… they all left?" he asked, looking back at her.
She nodded.
He smiled.
"Give me the sword."
She handed it over, and he took it, securing it at his waist. Looked at her once.
"Now hold on tight."
Before she could question what he meant, he pulled the reins—and the horse dashed forward. Didn't need to command it to go fast. It knew.
Her body tensed instantly. He could see the fear in her eyes. But his arms were around her, firm and steady, making sure she was safe.
The wind hit his face. A massive smile formed on his face. It had been so long since he had ridden a horse—not to go to war, but just to enjoy riding it. Seeing him smile, Elizabeth felt slightly relieved. She closed her eyes and smiled, letting the wind hit her. Sylas saw that, and more memories flooded back.
But that didn't last long. He increased the speed, trying to make the memories disappear.
They ran through the narrow road, made of old cobblestone, uneven in places—but it reminded him of Camelot. Lanterns hung from wooden posts along the path.
After a while, in front of them, they saw a few carriages. He looked at Elizabeth.
"Seems like we caught up."
He shot past them all. They looked through the windows, mouths open—they didn't know how to respond.
After passing Luis's cart, he wasn't happy.
"Go faster!" he shouted out of anger.
But it was no use. He was just too fast. He was the first to make it to the main house.
As he went near the massive door, it opened, letting them pass through.
The main house was located in an open area—like it was a nation on its own. Surrounded by a maze-like pattern, it was filled with tons of gardens, advanced training camps, horses running around in an open field. In the middle was the main house. It reminded him of his castle in Camelot—but this one was much bigger, much smoother.
In front of the castle were many water fountains with different styles. He climbed off the horse. Then turned and held his hand out. She was hesitant but took it. He guided her down. Handed her his sword, and they walked inside the house.
He was the only one there. The throne was empty. No one was in the room.
The room was massive. Stone pillars surrounded it. The floor was clear. The throne was made of gold, some kind of black material, and had a weird symbol carved into it. He didn't know what it was.
Slowly, they all joined him. Luis and his mother, who was the queen, and the princes. They were still upset that they didn't make it first. Then dukes, marquesses, counts, viscounts, and barons. Each title held power.
Slowly, the empty throne room was full. Everyone who survived the trial was here. All fifteen of them.
They all stared at him. Cold and silent. They were angry. The fact that he—a nobody—made it, while some of their kids didn't. As if they were asking, with their eyes:
Why do you get to live… and not my child?
He didn't care what they thought. Stood still.
Elizabeth felt uneasy due to all the attention they were getting. He took the sword and petted her head.
When everyone settled down, the king finally walked in and sat on his throne. The queen—Luis's mother—sat next to him. Everyone bowed and kneeled on one leg… except Sylas.
The queen's face turned red.
"Has your mother not taught you manners?"
He ignored her. Eyes never left the king.
"Child, do you know who I am?" the king asked. His voice was low and controlled, yet powerful.
"Who are you?"
Sylas was calm. Both hands resting on the hilt of his sword.
"I am your father… and the king."
"You need to be in the child's life to be considered a father."
He paused.
"A king…"
He paused again and smiled.
"Then tell me—what is a king to a king?"
The queen stood up.
"You disrespectful child!"
He ignored her and turned to Elizabeth.
"You do not bow to anyone but me. Now get up."
She looked at him, then at the king. Didn't know what to do—until the king gave her a small nod. Then she rose.
Everyone in the room was furious. But the king was calm, and signaled everyone to move on.
Then they moved into a room. At the center stood a massive statue of a warrior, holding a sword before him. Once an examinee got within its view, it would move and shout out their rank.
Ranks are permanent. The blessings come from gods, mythical beasts, or legendary warriors—just like a test or exam. The door works the same way. The amount of blessing you get is based on your performance.
(Except Sylas.)
One by one, they all walked forward. Since they were all noble families, they were trained their whole lives—so most of them made it to A and B rank.
Before him, Luis walked forward. The statue's eyes glowed with blue light.
S-Rank.
This was a rare occurrence—there had only been a few S-Ranks in the Virelia family.
The room lit up with joy from the king and queen. A candidate for the throne had been born.
At last, it was Sylas. He walked forward.
The statue looked at him… but didn't talk. Didn't say anything for a while—until its eyes started to glow with golden light that filled the whole room.
Everyone almost went blind. Then it shouted:
"E-Rank."
The room went silent for a moment. Then they all burst out laughing.
He ignored them and walked back. Elizabeth looked around, still holding his sword, as the laughter grew louder around them.
"Silence."
The queen's voice cut through the noise. She turned to Luis.
"What do you desire for keeping this family's honor?"
He walked toward his mother and looked at Sylas. Wanted to embarrass him in front of everyone. Wanted to take everything from him—for what he did to him.
"I want that sword."
Sylas knew Luis didn't care about the sword. He wanted it because he saw how much it meant to him.
Sylas stayed and said, "No."
But they didn't let it go.
The queen whispered something into the king's ear.
"Child, give it to him. In exchange, you can pick any high-class weapon in the kingdom."
He took the sword and stabbed it into the ground, smiling.
Looked at them.
"If he can pull it out of the ground, he can keep it."
Joy filled Luis's eyes. He stepped forward, about to reach for it—but Sylas spoke:
"But if you fail to pull it out… I will cut that filthy hand of yours for touching that sword."
Their eyes widened.
"You disobey the king, insolent child!"
The queen's voice broke the silence.
He looked at her calmly.
"I never disobeyed his order. He is free to take it whenever he wants—unless he's afraid he can't do it."
Luis started gritting his teeth. Grabbed the sword—but couldn't pull it. Used all his might, but it wouldn't move.
"You cheated!"
Sylas didn't respond. Took the sword out and handed it to Luis. His eyes glowed, like a child who had finally gotten the toy he always wanted. Luis held out both of his hands. The moment Sylas let go of the sword, the sword dropped, slamming his hand on the ground, trapping him, unable to move.
"What the hell did you do?" Luis yelled.
"You wanted my sword. Now you have it," he muttered as he stared him down from above. He yelled for help. The king rushed toward him. They tried to lift it, but couldn't.
Luis stared at his mother and started accusing him of cheating.
Then the king tried again. Shook the room with his power—but even he couldn't do it.
He looked at Sylas. His calm voice was gone.
"What trick are you playing?"
"I do not play tricks. I am a man of my word," he said while looking him in the eyes.
"I don't want the sword, just take it off," Luis said.
He grinned.
"I will—only if you beg for forgiveness."
"I will kill you!" his mother shouted, her voice filled with power—enough to stop his breathing.
"If you kill me, that sword will kill Luis." He stayed calm, making sure they bought his bluffing. In this state, he knows he can't fight them. He looked at Luis.
"Now beg for forgiveness."
He lowered his head and muttered, "I'm sorry."
Sylas stepped forward.
"I didn't need to use any trick," he paused,
"It's simple. You all… are not worthy."
And he lifted the sword off his hand.
"Now…" His eyes cold.
"I want his arm."
He stepped forward—but the queen blocked his path.
"Move, witch."
Her eyes started to glow.
"No."
He looked at her, voice sharp, filled with power.
"We had a deal."
She cried out for the king. But he was quiet.
Everyone in the room turned on Sylas—as if the moment he moved, they would kill him.
He turned to Elizabeth.
"Let's go."
As he turned to leave, the queen and Luis started to laugh.
He paused and turned his head.
"I don't know what's so funny."
His eyes turned red. A grin formed on his face.
"I will take that arm soon."
Once again, the room went silent…
As he left the main house.