The major warriors of all clans were present in Thernys's temple. There was a boarding house for the trainees till the tournament was over; they needed to stay at the temple devotedly.
Morning light spread slowly across the sacred training valley of Thernys. Mist clung to the ground, drifting between the white stone pillars carved with ancient runes. The Temple of Thernys stood behind them, silent and watchful, while the vast training grounds stretched below like a waiting battlefield.
Warriors from every realm gathered in groups. Steel rang softly. Magic flickered in controlled bursts. The air carried discipline rather than hostility this was training, not war.
Instructors marked circles across the stone platforms. Wooden weapons, real blades, and ritual staffs were arranged carefully. Each realm prepared in its own way. Some warmed up in silence. Others tested each other with quick sparring exchanges.
From the northern path, the Arkan trainees arrived. Among them walked Gretchen. He did not stand at the front. He walked quietly, observing everything — the terrain, the warriors, the instructors. His movements were calm, almost relaxed, as if he were simply curious rather than competitive.
He stepped onto the training grounds and paused.
The scale of the gathering was impressive. Fighters from Seven Gates practiced sword forms. Hellenic trainees tested spell circles. Lynidor warriors focused on spear techniques. Thernys disciples stood apart, calm and disciplined.
Gretchen exhaled softly.
"So this is where it begins," he murmured.
Nearby, some trainees had already started sparring. One fell, another laughed, and instructors corrected posture and balance. The atmosphere was intense, yet not hostile.
Then a quiet shift passed through the grounds.
It was subtle. No announcement. No command.
But conversations softened.
Kalies entered the valley.
He walked slowly down the stone steps from the temple. White robes moved gently in the morning wind. His expression remained calm, distant, almost detached. He carried no visible weapon. Yet the space around him felt still.
Some trainees rushed to look more serious Others bowed slightly. No one spoke to him first.
Kalies stopped near the central platform. His eyes moved across the gathering, silently observing. Every motion, every stance, every imbalance — he noticed all of it.
The training began officially.
Pairs formed. Wooden swords clashed. Magic circles glowed briefly and faded. Dust rose under quick footwork. Instructors moved between groups correcting mistakes.
Gretchen joined a sword drill. His movements were clean but not aggressive. He listened carefully when corrected. When he sparred, he focused on control and stability rather than strength. He lost one exchange, then adjusted quietly and improved the next day, he always improved his movements and technique.
From the central platform, Kalies watched.
Not specifically Gretchen.
He watched everyone. But his eyes drawn to him…
A trainee from Lynidor was overextended and arrogant—Kalies noticed.
A Seven Gates fighter relied too much on force—he noticed.
A Thernys disciple misaligned the physical training—he noticed.
Then Gretchen stepped into another match.
This time, his movement flowed more naturally. He deflected instead of blocking. Shifted instead of resisting. His opponent's blade slipped aside. Gretchen stopped before striking and stepped back respectfully.
No display.
Just control.
He has a little arrogance in his face, but it is hidden carefully.
As the weapon training progressed, Gretchen showed impressive skills.
Dian felt jealous of Gretchen.
His eyes was burning with jealousy