On the day of the tournament, Lusian did not arrive in a carriage like most nobles.
He came riding on Thunder.
The magical beast moved calmly, its white fur with silver reflections catching the light like living metal. At its side trotted Umber, the black wolf, silent as always, never separating even a single step.
The scene immediately drew attention.
The noise around them cut off for an instant.
Then came the murmurs.
It was not normal to see someone so young arriving like that, riding such a creature, with such natural ease.
Lusian did not react. He simply kept moving forward.
The Cymopelia Forest stretched north of Acrópolis like a dark mass of mist and twisted branches.
At its edge, the terrain had already been transformed.
Pavilions, tents, banners of noble houses. Everything organized around the event.
The royal hunting tournament.
An annual event of the Kingdom of Aldarion, directly overseen by King Felipe.
For five days, participants would enter the forest.
Hunt beasts.
Collect mana cores.
And in the end, whoever obtained the highest-quality ones would raise the prestige of their house.
Nobles of all ranks had already gathered.
From the thirteen great families of the kingdom to barons and lesser knights. The atmosphere was filled with pride, tension, and that silent ambition visible in the way they looked at each other.
As he moved toward the area assigned to House Douglas, Lusian noticed something immediately.
People were stepping aside.
Not all of them, but enough.
Some lowered their heads. Others glanced sideways, measuring him. In some cases there was respect, in others poorly hidden envy.
Voices lowered as he passed.
Whispers.
Nothing direct, but enough to know he was being observed.
Lusian kept walking as if it did not matter.
His black armor caught the morning sunlight, its golden edges shining with every step. It was a mythical-level magical artifact, a relic of the Douglas family.
Only direct heirs could wear something like it.
And yet, Lusian did not like it.
Because it attracted too many eyes.
In the distance, among the rows of knights and gathered nobles, Lusian saw his father.
Duke Laurence Douglas was speaking with King Felipe and other dukes, at the center of one of the most important groups of the event.
Beside him stood Caleb.
His older brother.
Blue armor, the Douglas family crest engraved with precision. Straight, confident posture. And that smile… the same as always.
They both noticed him at the same time.
Laurence barely frowned. His expression did not change much, but his posture tightened just enough to notice.
Displeasure.
Caleb, on the other hand, did not even try to hide it.
"You're arriving in a showy manner, as always," he said when Lusian was close enough.
Lusian did not respond.
There was no point.
Instead, his mind paused for a second on something else.
Caleb.
His older brother.
…or rather, someone who in the future simply disappeared from history.
He tried to recall the details. The exact order. But only fragments came.
Lusian frowned.
I don't remember… I only know he dies.
The atmosphere around them grew heavier.
Even nearby knights avoided intervening, exchanging uneasy glances.
Laurence took a small step forward.
"Enough," he said firmly.
His gaze moved from Caleb to Lusian.
"We are in the presence of royalty," he added. "We are not here to argue."
Pause.
"We are here to demonstrate the strength of our house."
Lusian slightly inclined his head, a gesture late and somewhat awkward. Noble formalities were not his thing.
Well, to begin with, he was not Lusian. Erwin had never known those customs.
His relationship with his father was nothing more than a useful façade. Laurence had never truly considered him his son, and Caleb never bothered to hide his contempt—or at least not when the duchess was not around.
Deep down, Lusian knew something simple: to them, he was just an inconvenient variable within House Douglas… something that remained there for reasons unrelated to affection.
Still, the contrast between the three of them was clear.
Laurence carried authority effortlessly.
Caleb projected arrogance and control, as if everything around him had to adjust to him.
And Lusian…
Lusian was simply there.
When Sofía appeared in the spectator area, the atmosphere changed immediately.
Conversations dropped in volume without anyone ordering it.
The Duchess Douglas was impossible to ignore.
Elegant. Imposing. And accompanied by her magical lion.
The creature stepped forward slightly, and the mere sound of its presence was enough to silence several nearby knights.
Sofía scanned the place with her gaze… until she found Lusian.
He looked back.
He said nothing.
But she did.
A slight gesture.
Almost imperceptible.
Pride.
The sound of golden trumpets marked the beginning of the ceremony.
King Felipe stepped onto the stage alongside Prince Andrew Erkhan, direct representative of the royal family. Behind them stood the kingdom's most important names: Dukes Bourlande and Sneider, and Counts Armett, Kessler, Macllister, Stanley, Briggs, Mondring, Denisse, Carter, and Brown.
Too many important eyes in one place.
The air felt heavy, as if the forest itself were waiting.
Every noble, every warrior, and every magical beast seemed to hold its breath.
Only one thing remained.
For the gates to open.
Lusian inhaled slowly.
The tournament was not just a test of strength.
That was what was visible.
Underneath, something else was moving: alliances, interests, betrayals that no one spoke aloud…
Lusian felt a chill when he saw Count Denisse among the present. He remembered Baron Joel… and how his execution had shaken the capital.
What was that man hiding behind his courtesy?
While the king spoke, Lusian turned his gaze toward Cymopelia. The mist covered the twisted trees.
That was where the tragedy had begun in the game.
The prince's assassination. The fall of the kingdom.
His pulse quickened. He took a deep breath. He would not be a spectator. He would take his future into his own hands.
After the ceremonial greetings of the nobility, the royal spokesperson stepped onto the central stage. His voice cut through the murmurs of the crowd.
"By order of His Majesty, the royal hunting tournament begins," he announced. "Listen carefully to the rules of the event. Their enforcement will be strictly monitored."
The atmosphere grew heavier.
"First rule: the tournament will last five days. At sunset on the fifth day, everything will end. Anyone who has not returned in time will be disqualified, without exception."
Several gazes tensed. Getting lost in Cymopelia was not rare… nor was it always survivable.
"Second: all participants must use the spatial storage device provided by the royal family. No other artifact will be allowed. The hunted prey must retain proof of being killed within the valid period. Count Macllister, together with a spatial mage, will personally supervise verification."
"Third: the scoring system will grant points according to the level of the hunted creatures."
The spokesperson raised a parchment and began reading in a solemn tone.
"Monster classes:A, one thousand points.B, five hundred.C, two hundred.D, fifty.E, twenty.F, ten."
A low murmur spread among those present.
"Magical beast classes:Omega, five thousand points.Epsilon, two thousand.Delta, one thousand.Gamma, five hundred.Beta, two hundred.Alpha, one hundred."
Lusian absorbed every word.
Monsters… magical beasts.
Two clear categories in his mind.
Monsters were wild beings born from excess mana in nature. Their energy was unstable and difficult to harness.
Magical beasts had affinity to mana. Thanks to their internal core, they could stabilize and utilize it better, making their energy much more efficient.
Some even developed basic intelligence and could form bonds with warriors.
That was why hunting a magical beast granted much more prestige—and much more usable mana—than killing a monster.
That was why they were worth more. Much more.
And in this tournament, value was everything.
"Finally," the spokesperson concluded, "combat between participants is strictly forbidden. This is a hunting tournament, not a war between houses."
A wave of murmurs spread among the nobles, mixing excitement and nervousness. Lusian remained silent, observing. He knew that beyond rewards and prestige, what truly drove the families was mana, and that every movement inside the forest could change not only the position of a house, but the kingdom itself.
In addition, he was clear about something else.
This tournament took place during the breeding season.
At that time, accidents between humans and monsters increased.
Monsters left their territories to protect their young, seeking safer areas… even if that meant crossing into human settlements.
And in areas with low mana density, humans were nothing more than easy prey.
"Accidents" were common.
And many times… humans ended up as food.
Suddenly, between the mist of the forest and the murmur of the participants, a familiar figure appeared in the distance: Emily.
She walked with firm steps, her light armor reflecting the first rays of the sun. Still, there was something different about her presence… more tense.
As she approached, she slightly bowed in greeting before lifting her gaze and smiling faintly.
"Are you participating as well?" Lusian asked, surprised to see her there.
"Yes," she replied with a faint smile. "It's better to be here than staying at camp. Lately… no one really wants to be around me."
Lusian observed her for a moment.
No need to ask further.
Since the incident with Baron Joel, Emily had become an uncomfortable topic among noble families. Some avoided her. Others pretended she did not exist. Even her engagement to Lusian had isolated her more than expected.
"So you'd rather hunt monsters than endure their stares," Lusian said finally, with a slight smile.
Emily nodded, somewhat embarrassed.
"I suppose so. At least in the forest I don't have to worry about what they say about me."
"Be careful. Don't separate from your group," Lusian warned, more seriously.
Emily looked at him, slightly surprised.
"Do you worry about me, Lord Lusian?"
"Just call me Lusian," he replied with a faint smile. "And yes… I do."
Emily lowered her gaze, blushing.
"Thank you… Lusian. I promise I'll be careful. You too, alright?"
Lusian nodded and turned toward his mount.
Emily watched him leave.
For the first time in days, she felt that someone saw her beyond rumors.
When he joined his group, Lusian understood immediately: he was not surrounded by ordinary warriors.
Most were Lords.
Four Gamma. Three Beta. Four Alpha.
There was even a Lord-Delta: Charles Grell.
Lusian could barely sense the mana of that man. It was too dense.
And above all of them stood Albert.
Magister-Gamma.
The leader of the group.
Lusian lowered his gaze for a moment.
He was the weakest there.
Legionnaire-Delta.
Albert nodded upon seeing the full group and turned toward them.
"Listen. The Cymopelia Forest is full of insect-type creatures. We will avoid colonies and focus on individual hunts. We seek quality, not quantity. Do not waste energy on low-level prey."
The group nodded firmly.
Lusian silently activated his mental link with Umber.
Go find Prince Andrew.
If history followed the same course he remembered… Andrew was going to die here.
If he saved him, he would owe him a favor.
And a favor like that could change everything.
The first hours passed without incident. Only small class D monsters, hunted without effort.
A routine hunt.
Until the ground trembled.
From the swamp emerged a colossal figure: a giant scorpion, with a dark carapace and eyes glowing red like embers. Its stinger dripped venom, and each step made the ground shake.
Albert raised his hand.
"Everyone back! That thing is class B!" he warned in a grave voice.
Lusian trembled at the sight. He swallowed hard.
One thing was seeing it on a monitor… another completely different was having it in front of you.