"You don't have any magic affinity," the man in the black cloak said coldly. "Next."
He didn't spare Arthur a second glance.
Arthur stood frozen. He couldn't breathe as silence swallowed the grand hall, but soon it broke into a storm of whispers and murmurs.
"Did I hear wrong? Did he say Arthur has no talent?" Someone said
"Impossible… Arthur is the most outstanding youth in our kingdom!" Another person denied
"Hah, nothing's impossible. The test doesn't lie. He had potential, yes, but potential doesn't guarantee true talent." A third person added
"Hahaha! A good show is about to unfold. His family relied on his so-called genius to behave however they liked in the kingdom. Now they'll pay for their arrogance!" Someone mocked
The shock in the crowd quickly turned into mockery. Yet Arthur didn't move. He just stood there, staring blankly as though the world itself had turned against him.
Only when another young boy walked past him going to test his talent, did Arthur snap out of his daze.
"Wait wait ! I want to try again! There must be a mistake!" His voice cracked as he dashed forward, passing the boy who just walked, hand reaching toward the glowing crystal stone.
But before he could touch it, a crushing aura descended on him. His body froze, every muscle locked tight. It felt as if invisible chains had wrapped around him, pressing down until he couldn't even fall to his knees.
"This is your last warning," the cloaked man said, voice like ice. "Try that again, and you'll be dead. Now move."
A wave of invisible force slammed into Arthur, hurling him aside like a rag doll. He hit the wall hard, pain shooting through his back. Cold sweat drenched him as denial spilled from his lips in broken whispers.
"No… no, no, no… this can't be true…"
Before despair could drag him further down, a warm hand settled on his shoulder. Arthur turned, and a familiar face came into view—his family's butler, Oscar.
But Oscar's usual gentle smile was gone. His face was tight with urgency as he pulled Arthur to his feet. Together, they slipped out of the testing hall.
Dozens of eyes followed them. In the shadows, figures stirred and moved silently.
"It seems the kingdom won't be peaceful for the next period of time," many thought as Arthur and Oscar vanished beyond the hall's doors.
Outside, Oscar led Arthur quickly through the courtyard. His steps were steady, his voice calm, but his words carried a heavy weight.
"We need to leave immediately, young master. Things are not looking good. By order of the family head, you will be sent away."
Hearing the familiar voice eased Arthur's panic. He drew in a shaky breath and managed to steady himself enough to speak.
"Did my father expect this? What's going to happen to the family? And… where will I be going exactly Oscar?"
Arthur didn't waste time with useless words. He knew the danger. A backup plan might be the only thing keeping him alive now.
"The master always prepared for every possibility," Oscar replied, his tone firm. "That is the only way he rose from a baron to a marquis in just ten years."
He pulled a necklace from his pocket and pressed it into Arthur's hand. A small silver owl was engraved on the pendant.
"Keep this necklace safe. It was given to your father by a high-ranking member of the Nightowl Mercenary Group after he saved his lives years ago. You will be sent to their nearest base, and from there, to the Heavenly Fire Kingdom, where their influence is strongest. You will stay there until everthing calm down first."
Arthur gripped the necklace tightly, the cold metal biting into his palm.
By the time Oscar finished speaking, they had already reached the outer gates. Several carriages stood ready, surrounded by armored knights.
As the guards spotted them, they straightened immediately and saluted. But Oscar wasted no time on formalities.
"Quickly! Knight Mark, get your men moving. Every second matters. Young master, follow me."
He climbed into the central carriage without hesitation. Arthur hurried in after him.
Mark, the knight captain, nodded sharply and began barking orders. In less than a minute, five carriages rolled out of the estate, wheels rumbling over stone as the convoy sped into the distance.
But in the dark corners of the city, many others moved as well—watching, waiting.
They were not about to let the fall of Arthur's family pass quietly.