Firelight lit up the night sky, staining the whole world blood red.
The air was thick with the acrid stench of burning timber and choking smoke.
"Live on, even if you live as lowly as a maggot, you must live on, Carolina."
The words echoed like a curse through the chaos of the dream.
The girl turned to look, and in her terrified eyes was reflected Lorran Manor, consumed by roaring flames.
In that hellish scene, a beautiful and noble woman cupped Carolina's face with trembling hands.
Those eyes, once gentle and bright, were now filled with an unspeakable grief.
The woman's wrists and ankles were locked in cold, heavy iron shackles.
All around them stood dozens of knights cloaked in pitch-black armor.
They surrounded the woman and Carolina like a silent, merciless forest of steel.
These knights wore black iron plate engraved with arcane runes, as silent and final as messengers of death.
Carolina recognized them. They were the King's own personal guard: the Black Knights.
"Only by living can you have a chance to avenge our family."
The woman leaned close to Carolina's ear.
She whispered, in a voice so faint only the two of them could hear it.
Carolina watched in horror as blood spilled from her mother's mouth, a searing red that instantly stained the front of her ample bodice.
"Mother..."
Carolina tried to reach out and grab her mother.
But her own body would not move an inch. She could only watch helplessly as her mother's body collapsed into the pool of blood.
The flames suddenly surged upward, swallowing her mother's body whole, burning it down to a charred black skeleton.
"No..."
Carolina jolted awake from the nightmare.
She gasped for breath in great heaving gulps.
Cold sweat covered her forehead.
Her heart pounded violently, as if it might burst through her chest.
The linen sheets beneath her were already soaked through with sweat.
She looked around blankly, trying to tell dream from reality.
Carolina found herself lying in a narrow servant's room on the ground floor of White Stone Mansion.
A simple wooden bed.
Mottled walls.
Faint morning light.
All of it reminded her that the nightmare was over.
But was it really over?
Carolina reached up, trembling, to touch the back of her own neck.
The purple magical brand there burned faintly warm.
It was a magical contract she could never escape from, not in this life or any other.
Carolina turned instinctively to look beside her, toward the spot where her sister Ristina usually slept.
Ever since that fateful nightmare at Lorran Manor, her sister Ristina had been her only emotional anchor, her only spiritual support.
No matter the danger, her sister always stepped in front of her without hesitation.
She had protected Carolina with her own body and courage, and had never once flinched.
But right now, what Carolina saw made her heart turn instantly cold.
Ristina, her pale golden hair pinned up and dressed in her maid's gown, was not sleeping peacefully as she usually did. Instead she sat blankly on the edge of the bed.
Her whole body looked like a puppet that had had every ounce of strength drained out of it.
In Ristina's hands she clutched a newspaper tightly.
It was the latest newspaper that their master Orum had instructed them to subscribe to.
But right now, that newspaper trembled faintly in her grip.
"Sister."
Carolina called out softly, her voice full of unease and worry.
The sound of Carolina rising finally pulled the dazed Ristina back to her senses.
She slowly turned her head, revealing a face streaked with tears.
Those beautiful eyes were now red and swollen, her vision blurred with tears.
That delicate face was etched with a grief beyond words, heartbreaking to look at.
"Carolina..."
Ristina called her sister's name in a trembling voice, a sob catching in her throat.
In the next instant, Ristina got to her feet and rushed forward.
She threw her arms around her sister and held her with all the strength she had.
As if she wanted to pull Carolina entirely into her own body.
Carolina was startled by her sister's sudden embrace.
But she quickly felt large, scalding tears soaking into her shoulder.
That warm touch made her own heart begin to tremble too.
Those tears seemed to carry the weight of a thousand pounds of grief.
Each drop seemed to burn straight through Carolina's heart.
"Father, Uncle, Grandfather, our brother... they have all been executed."
Ristina's voice came in broken fragments, as if speaking each name was cutting into her own heart.
"What?!" Carolina's ice blue eyes flew open to their absolute limit, and her whole body shook violently.
She felt her mind go completely blank, with nothing but a buzzing ring in her ears.
Carolina lowered her head, unable to believe it.
Her gaze fell on the tear-soaked newspaper in her sister's hands.
The print on the page had blurred slightly from the tears.
But the shocking headline and contents were still clearly legible.
At the very top of the page, a line of terrifying black bold letters was printed: "Leaders of the Treasonous Lorran Family Hanged Today, List as Follows:"
"Albrecht IV of Lorran (former hereditary Duke of Hereford)"
"Albrecht V of Lorran"
"Ernst Lorran"
"Frederick Lorran"
"Oh God..."
Carolina let out a moan of despair.
The world before her eyes suddenly began to spin violently.
The ceiling, the walls, the furniture.
Everything was turning, wildly, madly.
She could no longer tell up from down, left from right.
It felt as though the entire world had been struck by a cataclysmic earthquake.
Everything turned upside down.
Everything familiar was collapsing, crumbling away.
"Sister..."
Ristina's voice broke into sobs, as if every word cost her every ounce of strength she had left.
"Carolina, we... we only have each other now."
"Only the two of us are left."
The air in the room seemed to freeze solid.
Time itself seemed to stop.
Only the grief-stricken sobbing of the two girls echoed, suppressed, in the narrow, shabby little room, on and on.
Orum noticed keenly that something was clearly wrong with his two maids today.
On the surface, everything seemed normal, but the two of them gave off an unmistakable air of suppressed sorrow that they could not quite hide.
That look, as if they had lost everything that mattered to them, simply could not be concealed.
Orum noticed that the sisters' originally clear, lovely ice blue eyes were both red and swollen.
Their lips still kept up the standard professional smile, but the smile looked stiff and forced.
Nothing at all like their usual natural warmth.
Orum sipped his hot tea and watched the two maids' strange behavior thoughtfully.
His mind was full of questions about the reason for their low spirits.
What on earth had happened, to make these two, normally so composed and unflappable, show such a fragile state?
Just then, Orum's gaze happened to fall on the newspaper spread open in his hand.
The moment he saw the eye-catching headline printed in bold black type, his expression froze.
Then, as his eyes scanned down to the long, dense execution list beneath it, all his questions were instantly answered. The main members of the Lorran family, who had been imprisoned for so long, had finally been sentenced to death by the kingdom's highest court.
Not a single one had been spared.
Orum's brow furrowed slightly, his expression turning grave.
He understood at once why his two maids were in such low spirits today.
Their family had been almost entirely put to death.
Orum continued reading carefully through the details in the newspaper, his mind sinking into thought.
According to the kingdom's long-standing noble tradition, a titled noble of the kingdom sentenced to death should normally be granted the relatively dignified method of beheading.
Beheading, though still a death sentence, was seen by the nobility as a method of execution that preserved at least a final shred of dignity.
A sharp blade, one stroke to sever the neck, swift and not without honor.
It allowed the condemned to retain some basic noble dignity in the final moment of life.
Hanging, by contrast, was typically a method of execution reserved specifically for common criminals.
The process was slow and agonizing.
A criminal strangled by the noose often had to endure several minutes of suffocating agony before death finally came.
In the eyes of the nobility, it was an extremely humiliating form of execution.
Only the lowest, most despicable criminals were hanged.
But the record in the newspaper made clear that the Lorran family's grand duke, along with every other family member who had been sentenced, had all been put to death by hanging.
This was clearly a deliberate arrangement by the King himself.
It was a calculated act of humiliation and severe punishment, inflicted by the King on these former nobles accused of the grave crime of treason.
Through this deeply humiliating mass hanging, the King was sending a clear and unmistakable warning to every noble in the entire kingdom.
Anyone who committed the crime of treason, no matter how exalted their station, would face the King's thunderous wrath.
Orum closed the newspaper and let out a deep sigh.
He could imagine just how deep the pain in Ristina's and Carolina's hearts must be right now.
Losing so many beloved family members overnight, that feeling could not possibly be a pleasant one. It was, truly, heartbreak in its purest form.
After considering it for a moment, Orum made his decision.
He set down his teacup and said to the two maids in a calm voice, "Ristina, Carolina, come to my bedroom for a moment."
Ristina and Carolina, hearing their master's summons, bowed at once in respect.
"Yes, Master Orum."
Then they followed Orum toward his private bedroom.
Their steps were still graceful, but noticeably heavier than usual.
The two sisters followed closely behind Orum into the bedroom.
Carolina and Ristina showed no sign of confusion or unease.
After all, any order from Orum had to be obeyed without question. That had been accepted as fact from the very moment the contract was signed.
Once inside the bedroom, Orum walked over to the desk.
He opened one of the elegant drawers.
From inside, he took out two beautiful jewelry boxes.
The boxes were made of rosewood, their surfaces carved with intricate, beautiful patterns.
One glance was enough to know that something valuable lay inside.
The surface of each box had been carefully polished, giving off a warm luster under the sunlight.
Orum gently opened the two jewelry boxes.
Inside each lay a shimmering aquamarine necklace.
The gemstones gave off a blue light as deep and unfathomable as the sea, glittering under the light.
Each aquamarine had been cut to dazzling brilliance, refracting an ever-shifting play of light.
The two necklaces, whether in the size, color, and cut of the gemstones, or in the craftsmanship of the silver chains, looked almost completely identical.
One had been given to him as a gift by the half-snake merchant Zelan in the Sow District, in gratitude for helping lift his carriage.
The other Orum had bought later with gold coins, at the jewelry shop Zelan ran in the Sow District.
He had specifically chosen a style that matched the first one almost perfectly.
"These two aquamarine necklaces, one for each of you. They're a gift."
Orum said gently, handing the two jewelry boxes to Ristina and Carolina respectively.
The moment Ristina and Carolina took hold of the jewelry boxes, a flicker of great surprise crossed their once-dull ice blue eyes.
The two of them knelt down almost simultaneously.
They bowed to their master with proper, respectful posture.
Their voices were filled with genuine gratitude.
"Thank you so much for your generosity, Master. We will treasure this precious gift."
Carolina gripped the jewelry box tightly in her hands. This necklace reminded her of the birthdays of years past, when her brother, her father, and her mother had each carefully prepared a gift for her.
Why would the necklace in front of her stir up these gentle memories?
Perhaps it was the effect of the magical contract.
This was a false kind of warmth.
But it was still warm, all the same.
Master Orum was, this past year, the only person besides her sister who had shown her any kindness at all.
Carolina unconsciously took hold of Orum's hand and could not bring herself to let go.
"Master Orum, do you need us to carry out some dangerous task?"
Ristina's voice, faintly cool, broke through Carolina's train of thought.
Orum looked up and turned toward Ristina.
This time, he finally saw something deeper in her ice blue eyes.
It was a faint sorrow.
By Ristina's reasoning, a master granting a reward to a slave was an unnecessary thing to do.
Since he had done it anyway, he must intend to hand down some even more difficult, even more dangerous task.
As for death, Ristina had long since made peace with the possibility.
But the thought that it would mean being separated from Carolina, leaving no one to look after her little sister, filled her only with sorrow.
"It's still a matter of not understanding each other well enough," Orum thought to himself, shaking his head inwardly.
What dangerous task could there possibly be? Half-elves simply thought in complicated, overly suspicious ways.
For two maids who did not even have a class level, the only thing Orum could ever assign them in the future that might be called "dangerous" was, perhaps, a difficult childbirth.
Orum thought for a moment, then sighed softly. "I just don't want you two to be too sad, about what happened to your family."
"We... actually we're fine." Carolina's expression suddenly turned flustered, and she tried to explain. "We won't let it affect our work in the future, I promise."
Orum shook his head. "That's not what you really feel."
"Go ahead and cry it out. You'll feel better."
The instant the words left Orum's mouth, Carolina's eyes welled up uncontrollably with tears.
She thought once more of her father, her mother, Uncle Ernst, her brother Frederick, and all the past joys of her family.
Those happy memories of the past now felt like arrows piercing her heart, leaving her riddled with wounds.
"Hngh..."
"Waaah..."
Carolina began with a soft sob, then quickly broke down into loud, wailing tears.
"Don't cry like that... you're going to make me cry too..."
Beside her, Ristina, who had held herself in check for so long, was finally swept up by her sister's tears. Her eyes reddened, and she wrapped her arms around Carolina's neck and wept openly.
"So my orders really do work," Orum thought to himself, watching the two maids cry their eyes out.
"Can I order them to run a hundred meters in eight seconds, then?"
"Or order them to get into a top university?"
Orum suddenly realized something rather alarming.
If this slave magic contract existed back on Earth, it would sell like crazy.
Half an hour later.
After a good long cry, Carolina and Ristina's spirits had visibly improved. At the very least, they no longer looked so hollow as before.
The two maids, having regained their composed bearing, resumed their duties attending to Orum.
At that point, Ristina examined the aquamarine necklace in her hand carefully for a moment, and a look of scrutiny flickered across her eyes.
She ran her slender fingers gently over the surface of the gemstone.
Feeling its texture and temperature.
Ristina's brow furrowed slightly.
"Master Orum, forgive my frankness."
Ristina spoke in a careful, respectful tone.
"The hardness and coldness of these two aquamarine necklaces do not match the standard."
"A genuine aquamarine should feel colder, and its hardness should be higher."
"So these two aquamarine necklaces... are imitations, not real natural aquamarine."
"What?!"
The words struck like a bolt from a clear sky.
Orum froze for a moment, and then his expression turned to anger.
"That old half-snake bastard actually sold me fakes!"
The image of the half-snake merchant Zelan from the Sow District immediately rose up in Orum's mind.
Ristina saw her master's angry reaction.
She hastened to add, in a gentle tone, "Please don't be angry, Master. May I ask, how much did you pay for these two necklaces?"
Orum took a deep breath, trying to calm himself, and answered honestly, "Ten gold coins each."
Hearing the price, Ristina's expression relaxed somewhat.
She explained in a professional tone.
"Master, actually, this price is quite reasonable."
"A genuine natural aquamarine necklace would cost at least two hundred gold coins at a proper jewelry shop."
"And a high-quality imitation typically sells for around ten to fifteen gold coins on the market."
Ristina continued her professional analysis.
"So, Master Orum, the price you paid was, for an imitation, quite fair. You weren't seriously cheated."
After hearing this explanation, Orum's anger eased somewhat.
But he still felt a bit gloomy and irritated.
It seemed he really could not casually buy things in the Sow District anymore.
The Sow District, the most chaotic slum in Roen City.
Its commercial environment was practically indistinguishable from a black market.
Full of all kinds of fakes and shoddy goods. You truly got what you paid for there, and nothing more.
Fortunately, Ristina and Carolina did not seem to mind whether the necklaces were real or fake.
They still clutched their jewelry boxes tightly.
Every gesture they made carried gratitude and a sense of cherishing the gift.
Clearly, what mattered to them was not the value of the necklace.
It was the care and comfort Orum had shown them in their darkest moment.
That sentiment was worth more to them than any precious gemstone.
Watching the two maids' grateful expressions, Orum felt the gloom in his own heart gradually fade.
He decided it was time to learn more about something more important.
Regarding the treason case the Lorran family had been implicated in, Orum had harbored doubts all along.
The information he had gotten from Toby, though detailed, still left him feeling that some key details remained unclear.
Since the two people directly involved were right in front of him, he might as well ask them directly.
"I want to ask you something."
Orum's tone turned serious.
"Regarding the charges and the case against the Lorran family, how much do you know?"
The question instantly made the atmosphere in the room turn heavy.
The grief that had just begun to ease settled once more over the two sisters' hearts.
Both Ristina's and Carolina's bodies stiffened slightly.
Their faces turned pale.
Their fingers unconsciously clenched at the hems of their clothes.
The two sisters exchanged a glance, and a complicated emotion flickered through their ice blue eyes.
There was pain, there was helplessness, and there was a kind of bewilderment that was difficult to put into words.
That bewilderment felt like reaching out to grasp something important, only to find one's hands empty, with nothing left but despair.
Ristina took a deep breath and answered in a calm but faintly sorrowful tone. "Master Orum, when the magical slave contract was branded onto us, the royal court mage performed magic on our memories."
"Most of our memories of the family were forcibly erased."
Orum's brow furrowed slightly.
He had already heard this from Toby before, and now, hearing it confirmed by Ristina herself, the two accounts matched exactly.
Magically altering memories, deleting and adjusting them at will.
It was the kind of method that, just hearing about it, sent a chill down one's spine.
Carolina added, her voice trembling.
"Right now we have almost no clear impression or memory at all of the case our family was implicated in."
Deep confusion and pain showed in her eyes.
"Whenever we try to recall those events, a sharp pain erupts in our heads."
"As if countless needles were stabbing into our brains."
"All the key events, dates, people, scenes, they've all become a blur of emptiness in our memory."
"As if shrouded in thick fog."
Orum's expression grew even graver.
The royal court mage's methods were skillful to a degree that was, frankly, a little unsettling.
This memory-erasing magic was not some crude, blanket wipe.
It was selective, precise removal.
Keeping the basic memories of daily life and skills, while erasing sensitive political information.
This way, it ensured they could not leak any secrets, while still allowing them to live a normal life.
It had to be said, the sophistication of this magical technique was almost frightening.
If even one's own memories could deceive oneself, then what was left to trust?
But what Ristina said next caught Orum somewhat off guard.
Her tone suddenly turned firm and full of conviction.
"But there is one thing we are absolutely certain of."
"That the Lorran family, our grandfather, our father, our uncle..."
Ristina's voice rang out with strength.
A determined light burned in her eyes.
"They were all utterly loyal subjects of the kingdom!"
"They devoted their entire lives to the kingdom! There is no way they could possibly have committed treason!"
Carolina spoke with the same firm conviction.
In that moment, a flame of belief burned in both sisters' eyes.
It was an absolute trust in their family's honor.
It was an instinctive faith born of shared blood.
Even with their memories erased, even with the evidence destroyed, even with the entire kingdom declaring their family guilty.
They still believed, without doubt, in their family's innocence.
This conviction was not based on rational analysis. It came from an instinct deep within their hearts.
Orum listened to them quietly.
In his mind, he turned over another key piece of information Toby had mentioned.
Even if Carolina and Ristina had kept their memories intact, they likely knew nothing at all about the Lorran family's case.
Because if they had truly known anything important, or had been involved in the case in any way,
they would not be Orum's slaves right now.
They would already be locked away in the kingdom's dungeons.
The reason they had escaped that fate.
Was precisely because, after a thorough investigation, the kingdom authorities had confirmed that they truly knew nothing about the case.
Though the Lorran family was a great noble house, its internal political activities had clearly been kept under tight secrecy.
As young women within the family, Ristina and Carolina had been strictly excluded from the core decision-making.
The reason the court mage had altered their memories was simply that some valuable, sensitive details might have been hidden among them.
Compared to those Lorran family members who had been locked in damp, cold dungeons, only to finally meet the gallows.
Ristina and Carolina's fate could be considered relatively fortunate.
Though they had lost their freedom, lost their noble status, and been reduced to slavery.
At least they had kept their lives, and that alone was the greatest stroke of luck.
They lived every day at White Stone Mansion, a place that was relatively comfortable and safe.
With a warm room, plenty of food, and decent clothing.
Living conditions far better than any dungeon.
And on top of that, they had Orum, a master who did not abuse or whip them without reason.
Such treatment could honestly be called quite good.
The day before the official start of the Blazing Sun Tournament.
At the Radiant Sun Inn, in a luxurious room.
"Orum, you want to know what's really going on with the Lorran family's big case, don't you?" Felix sat across from Orum, took a small sip of black tea, and asked with a frown.
"That's right," Orum replied, his expression a little grave.
Just now, he had already told Felix in detail about purchasing a property, which had come with two half-elf slave maids included.
Orum hoped that through Felix, this young noble of House Greymane, he could learn the detailed truth behind the Lorran family's treason case.
Regarding the grave crime of treason the Lorran family had been condemned for, Orum naturally could not rely solely on the two sisters' account. He needed information from multiple sources to get the full picture.
Felix took a deep breath and stood up, walking over to the window.
He gazed out at the darkening sky, falling silent for a moment as he weighed his words carefully.
Then he turned back, and spoke slowly, his voice low and steady. "This was mainly political conflict, but there were genuinely problems within the Lorran family itself."
"Treason is an extremely serious charge. The kingdom would never lightly condemn such a prominent noble family to such a heavy crime."
"Which means the kingdom authorities must have had solid, irrefutable evidence. Otherwise, a trial like this could never have moved forward."
Felix's tone was full of certainty.
As a member of House Greymane, he had a deep understanding of how the kingdom's politics operated.
Without solid evidence, no one would dare lightly move against a ducal house.
Orum listened quietly, his brow furrowed, his expression thoughtful.
"Of course," Felix added, his tone shifting, taking on a faint chill.
"You and I both know how deep the waters of political struggle run."
"Sometimes 'solid evidence' can also be the result of a carefully fabricated frame-up."
"But whatever the truth is, the Lorran family has been utterly destroyed."
Felix's tone turned completely flat, devoid of emotion.
"That much is established fact."
He walked back to his seat and sat down, looking Orum in the eye, speaking earnestly. "Besides that, there's something else you need to pay especially close attention to."
"Lorran's enemies will keep attacking."
"What nobles love to do most is hound their fallen rivals without mercy, kick them while they're down."
"Especially after winning a political struggle."
"Even though those two sisters have already been reduced to slaves, having lost all power and status."
"That doesn't mean they're safe."
"To certain people, as long as the Lorran bloodline still exists, it remains a threat."
Orum's brow furrowed tightly.
He began to realize that the situation was far more serious than he had imagined.
He had thought he was simply buying two maids. Now it looked like he might have bought himself trouble.
"That said," Felix's tone eased slightly. "These enemies can't just go around assassinating them either, not within Roen City, at least."
"There are eyes everywhere watching."
"The kingdom, the church, all the great noble houses, everyone is watching everyone else's every move."
"If the descendant of any prominent house were to suddenly die, even if she had already been reduced to a slave, it would immediately trigger a chain reaction."
"Other noble factions would seize the chance to make accusations, claiming a rival was taking secret revenge."
"No one wants to take on that kind of political risk."
"So within the city, they're relatively safe."
Felix's tone eased a bit further.
He lifted his teacup and took a sip, then continued explaining. "But if they ever leave Roen City, the situation would be completely different. Assassinations, bandits, monster attacks, plagues, all sorts of 'accidents' could happen one after another."
"Two ordinary maids without a class level would be extremely, extremely vulnerable outside the city."
Felix's tone grew heavier, his expression turning deadly serious.
"They have no combat ability, no magical protection, not even the most basic means of self-defense."
"In front of experienced assassins, they would be like lambs waiting for slaughter."
Orum's fist clenched without his realizing it.
He had already grasped the severity of the situation, and immediately understood just how important Felix's warning was.
"I understand. Thank you for the reminder, Captain Felix."
Orum nodded seriously.
It seemed he would have to be extremely careful from now on, and absolutely could not let Ristina and Carolina leave the protective bounds of Roen City carelessly.
Especially not before they had gained sufficient means to protect themselves.
"Now that we've finished with the heavy topic, let's talk about tomorrow's match."
As Felix shifted the subject, the atmosphere in the room grew somewhat lighter.
A smile spread across Felix's face.
The somber expression he had worn while discussing political assassination had vanished completely.
In its place was a relaxed, cheerful demeanor.
"Tomorrow is an important day for us. Whether it's me and Raygore in the professional bracket, or you, little Orum, in the semi-professional bracket, we all need to bring our true skill and push for the championship."
"Tomorrow is the official opening day of the Blazing Sun Tournament. Do you feel confident?"
Felix's eyes were full of anticipation and curiosity.
As the captain of the Ice Hawks Company, he had been closely following Orum's rapid growth in strength.
After all, Orum was a member he paid special attention to, and the one he saw the most potential in.
If Orum could achieve good results in the Blazing Sun Tournament, it would bring enormous benefit to the reputation of the entire Ice Hawks Company.
"Win?"
Orum repeated the word softly.
Then he smiled and said, "Easy."
A few hours earlier.
At high noon, with the sun blazing fiercely.
In the back courtyard of White Stone Mansion.
Orum stood before the tenth black iron training dummy, gripping a black wooden staff, every muscle in his body tensed, and struck down with full force!
Beneath his seemingly unremarkable body, power surged like molten lava.
"BOOM!"
Under the force of that single strike, the black iron dummy's head shattered instantly into countless fragments!
Iron shards burst outward like fireworks in the sunlight, scattering in every direction!
"Proficiency +1"
"[Iron Heart Force] LV5 (250/250) → [Iron Heart Force] LV6 (Max)"
The instant the status notification popped up!
Orum felt an unprecedented, marvelous sensation.
A feeling so subtle and strange it could hardly be put into words.
As if the entire universe were celebrating his breakthrough.
A warm, formless yet powerful energy poured into his body from the heavens and the earth.
It firmly anchored and reinforced all the skill he had worked so hard to cultivate over this period.
[You have gained the Feat: Iron Heart Force!]
A brand-new notification suddenly appeared in Orum's field of view!
In that moment, Orum finally understood.
Why classed professionals could so easily tell whether they had gained a feat.
Because no one could possibly ignore a feeling like this, this resonance with the world itself.
The official opening day of the Blazing Sun Tournament had finally arrived.
The morning sun spilled over Roen City, and the whole city, like some great beast, slowly stirred awake from sleep, letting out a clamorous hum.
The most magnificent, awe-inspiring structure in Roen City, the Blazing Sun Coliseum, was now completely surrounded by a surging tide of people.
The sight of this sea of humanity was nothing short of staggering.
Crowds poured in from every direction, gathering around the outer perimeter of the coliseum like a flood tide. Merchants, nobles, commoners, adventurers, all walks of life converging for this grand event.
Orum pushed his way through the crowd toward the gladiator's private entrance.
The guards checked his identity token and let him through.
Soon, Orum arrived at the gladiators' designated viewing area.
The view from here was excellent, allowing him to take in the entire panorama of the coliseum.
Every tier of seating, at every level, was packed full.
From the cheapest seats up in the highest tiers to the ordinary seating in the middle levels, every single spot was occupied by eager spectators.
People waved flags and banners of every color, shouting loudly the names of the gladiators they supported.
"Blood Axe Griffin! Blood Axe Griffin!"
"Iron Fist Marcus, all the way!"
"Lightning Saladin!"
The entire coliseum seethed like a boiling sea.
The air was charged with excitement, anticipation, and tension, all mixed together into a unique, festival-like atmosphere.
Orum found his seat and sat down.
Once he had watched the opening ceremony, he would need to head to the gladiators' private waiting area to prepare for his match.
In the gladiators' designated section, the other competitors were chatting among themselves, discussing who the favorites were to win this year's Blazing Sun Tournament.
"Blood Axe Griffin is fierce. He'll pop his rage, then land a heavy strike! Two hits and Marcus is down!" a half-orc shouted.
"But he's got to land the hit first! The moment Griffin unleashes his combat art, Iron Fist Marcus can slide right in and take him out instantly!" a dwarf retorted, bristling his beard, eyes flashing.
Orum listened for a while and realized they were debating with each other.
Iron Fist Marcus seemed to be a famous monk, while Blood Axe Griffin was a barbarian berserker. Both apparently well-known Mithril-rank professionals of Roen City.
Orum listened a bit more, then felt a little annoyed.
These were all opponents in the professional bracket, nothing to do with him as a non-professional.
Just thinking about it made Orum angry. Why on earth wasn't he allowed to register for the professional competition?
Feeling somewhat irritated, Orum stopped paying attention to these gladiators' verbal sparring, all talk and no real fighting.
"WHOOOOO!"
Suddenly, a deafening blast of horns sounded.
The opening ceremony of the Blazing Sun Tournament had begun.
First to appear was the Roen City Royal Orchestra, dressed in matching, ornate uniforms, walking slowly out from the main entrance of the coliseum.
Brass instruments, strings, and percussion sounded together, playing the kingdom's traditional march of battle.
The grand music rang out, echoing through the entire coliseum.
Then came the deafening roar of ceremonial cannon fire.
Volley after volley of magical fireworks bloomed across the sky.
Red, blue, and gold magical fireworks painted vivid patterns across the blue sky: the sun, a lion, a longsword, symbols of strength and glory.
These were not ordinary gunpowder fireworks but true works of magic. The colors were more vivid, the patterns more precise, and they lasted far longer.
Some ten-odd minutes later, the cannon fire gradually died down, and the music turned gentle.
Orum's gaze swept past the boiling crowd and landed on the noble viewing box positioned right at the center of the coliseum.
That was where the most powerful figures in Roen City sat.
In that lavishly decorated central box, representatives of the city's great noble families sat dressed in their most extravagant finery, displaying their power and status.
Silk, gemstones, gold, all manner of luxury glittering in the sunlight.
Among them, the most striking, without question, were the three people seated in the very center, the most honored position of all.
Morgan Silverhand, Lord of Roen City, along with his son and daughter.
Morgan Silverhand was an old man who looked to be at least sixty, his silver hair thick and curled, his white beard neatly trimmed.
He wore a sumptuous black robe, embroidered with intricate, elaborate patterns in gold thread.
Lord Morgan's face was stern and cold, his deep-set eyes as sharp as a hawk's, sweeping across the entire coliseum.
Even from this great distance, Orum could feel the powerful, commanding presence radiating off the old man without him saying a word.
Clearly, this old man was also a classed professional.
This was the true ruler of Roen City.
Seated to his left was his son, Crale Silverhand, a golden-haired young man who looked to be in his early twenties.
Handsome in features but arrogant in expression, his still-boyish cheeks carried an insolent, unruly air, as if announcing to everyone that he held the whole world in contempt.
It was the classic look of a spoiled, dissolute young noble.
He wore a loose silk robe, with delicate silk gloves on both hands.
The outfit struck Orum as somewhat odd.
With his keen powers of observation, Orum noticed that the gloves seemed designed to hide something.
Through the thin, sheer fabric of the gloves, some faint, irregular blotches could be glimpsed.
That color, that shape...
Orum's eyes narrowed slightly.
Syphilis.
That particular color and pattern of marking was the telltale symptom of syphilis.
It seemed this young noble's private life was rather chaotic.
It was also the classic "occupational disease" of dissolute young nobles.
Seated on Lord Morgan's right was his daughter, Aurelia Silverhand, a stunningly beautiful young noblewoman.
Aurelia Silverhand stood in the honored central viewing box, her whole bearing like a finely crafted work of art, drawing the gaze of countless eyes throughout the coliseum.
She had inherited her late mother's most beautiful features, her hair black and long, cascading down like a waterfall, catching a silken sheen under the midday sun.
She wore an extravagantly luxurious deep crimson gown, its skirt layered like the unfurling petals of a blooming rose, embroidered in gold thread with a lifelike phoenix design.
The collar and cuffs of the gown were set with emeralds, and on her chest she wore the crest of House Silverhand, a silver hand grasping a scepter, a symbol of power and dominion.
Aurelia's entire being radiated a noble, proud air, like a magnificent peacock looking down disdainfully on the masses below, as if the entire coliseum were her own personal stage.
She slowly raised her slender, pale right hand, and that one elegant gesture was enough to gradually quiet the clamoring coliseum.
Everyone waited to hear what this noble lady would say.
Aurelia took a deep breath, then began to speak in her naturally lovely, melodious voice.
Her voice carried through every corner of the coliseum, amplified by a magical sound array.
"Honored Father, esteemed and noble guests, and brave adventurers from every corner of the kingdom!"
"Today, I have the great honor of announcing the special rules for this year's Blazing Sun Tournament!"
The crowd erupted in thunderous applause and cheers.
People eagerly awaited what "special rules" this beautiful noble lady was about to reveal, or perhaps they were simply swept up in excitement at the sight of her beauty.
Aurelia smiled faintly, a smile both captivating and tinged with a certain cruel beauty.
"In the first round of preliminaries, as well as the second round, the finals, we will no longer be using the traditional one-on-one dueling format!"
"Instead, each match will see eight gladiators enter the arena at the same time!"
"Eight warriors will fight on the same battlefield, locked in a fierce, brutal, merciless slaughter against one another!"
"Blood will stain the sand, and only the strongest among them, the one who survives this battle of glory, will rise as the final victor and advance to the finals!"
The atmosphere inside the coliseum grew even more frenzied.
"My God, eight people fighting at once!"
"This is going to be amazing to watch!"
Many bloodthirsty spectators had already begun imagining the brutal scene of an eight-way melee, their faces flushed with excitement.
Sitting in the gladiators' viewing section, Orum's brow furrowed slightly upon hearing the rule.
This melee format was indeed far more complex and dangerous than a one-on-one duel.
With eight people fighting simultaneously, one had to remain constantly alert to attacks from every direction.
The slightest carelessness could mean being caught off guard, and the tactical difficulty increased dramatically.
But he quickly settled back into his usual calm expression.
For someone like him, who now possessed overwhelming strength, no matter how the rules changed, the outcome would be no different.
An eight-person melee?
Why not just smash straight through?
In the face of absolute power, any technique or strategy was nothing but vapor.
Aurelia continued announcing the rules in her beautiful voice.
"But, dear audience, the melee in the preliminaries is merely the appetizer!"
"The true challenge, the true test, awaits the survivors in the finals!"
Her voice carried an air of mystery and anticipation, as if every word held some secret not meant to be spoken aloud.
Hearing this, more than a few adventurers raised their eyebrows.
There were special rules for the finals too?
They had all assumed the finals would simply be a traditional one-on-one final showdown, never expecting there would be additional changes.
"The warriors who advance to the finals will face not only other equally powerful gladiators!"
"They will also face one additional, deadly challenge."
"Kill the monster python at the center of the arena, and sever its enormous head with your weapon!"
"Only the warrior who accomplishes this feat, only the true champion who can prove themselves capable of defeating not just human opponents but a savage monster as well, will be worthy of the supreme honor of this year's Blazing Sun Tournament championship!"
Aurelia's announcement echoed through the entire coliseum, the reverberations lingering long after.
Her voice, carried and amplified by the magical sound array, held a force that struck deep into the hearts of all who heard it.
The crowd's emotions were utterly set ablaze.
"My God! A monster python!"
"Unbelievable! We even get to see a beast fight!"
"This year's Blazing Sun Tournament is more than worth it! Hahahaha!"
Cheers, roars, and whistles all mixed together, sweeping over the entire coliseum like a tsunami.
The moment the words finished, a heavy clanking of chains and the rumble of massive wheels rolled in from the arena's entrance.
These sounds, mingled with an unsettling hissing noise, formed an eerie backdrop above the clamoring crowd.
That hiss was nothing any ordinary snake could produce.
"Hsssss..."
Deeper, far larger, and carrying a raw, primal malice.
Then, two specially built carriages with oversized iron cages rolled out from the darkness of the entrance.
In the iron cage on the first carriage was held a monster python of truly astonishing size.
Its body was thick as the waist of a grown man, and even coiled up, it took up most of the space in the cage.
It writhed its enormous body constantly, and the cage groaned with a metallic screech that set everyone's teeth on edge.
Its cold, slitted eyes were full of savage, brutal wildness, sweeping over the audience as if hunting for prey.
Every time its gaze met that of a spectator, an involuntary shiver ran through them.
That primal fear of a natural predator, an alarm bell ringing deep within the human genetic code!
When the second carriage rolled slowly into the center of the arena, the entire audience erupted into terrified screams and gasps.
The second cage was several times larger than the first.
The python held within it was even more terrifyingly massive, its body as thick around as a bathtub!
This was no longer an ordinary giant snake. It displayed the full ferocity of a true monster!
Every scale on this python's body gleamed with a metallic sheen, and its enormous head looked large enough to swallow a wild horse whole in a single bite!
When this giant python opened its massive jaws and let out a menacing hiss, the sound rolled out like the roar of some primeval beast, shaking the entire coliseum to its foundations!
"So making it to the finals also means killing a monster?"
Orum watched the two iron cages below with keen interest.
Man-eating. He wondered what kind of monster organ might drop after killing it.
Orum's gaze shifted once more to the honored guest box, settling on Morgan Silverhand and his two children.
He suddenly realized that this Silverhand family was the very same city lord's family that had clashed with Skull Sis a hundred years ago!
Orum could not help but recall that hard-to-forget tale.
Skull Sis had once dug up that Silverhand lord's parents from their graves, turned them into zombies, and made them dance right in front of the prison gate, which had drawn the city lord's furious wrath and a relentless manhunt!
"Wait, something doesn't add up here."
And then, the name "Silverhand" stirred up an even older memory in Orum's mind.
It was from when he had first crossed over into this world, in that dark, damp bandit cave.
Dorian, the leader of the "Blood Wolf Bandits," had mentioned this family's surname while he held Orum captive.
Recalling that memory, Orum felt a sudden jolt of alarm!
Could it really be?
The powerful figure from Roen City who had hired bandits to buy a handsome male slave, he came from House Silverhand!
Orum's gaze sharpened at once, sweeping back and forth across Morgan Silverhand, Crale, and Aurelia.
Among these three, which one was the rotten apple who had committed such vile deeds?
Based on his observations, none of these three looked particularly trustworthy. All three were suspects.