In the upper stands reserved for tutors and high-ranking nobles in the auditorium number 5, Seiya Galehart observed with crossed arms. His pegasus markings were subtle today, almost invisible against his skin.
His father, Aldric, sat beside him, apparently relaxed but with that penetrating attention Seiya had learned to recognize over years of watching the man work.
The posture of someone who seemed at ease but was actually cataloging everything.
"So," Seiya murmured low, ensuring his voice wouldnât carry beyond his fatherâs ear, "how did it turn out with the boy thatâs closest to Luna?"
Aldric didnât look away from the auditorium where names continued being called, each one another drama of success or failure playing out.
"Heâs actually very... gullible," he responded with an almost casual tone, the kind that made the words seem like an afterthought. "Poorly informed, as youâd expect from a former peasant. Trusts authority figures too easily."
Seiya let out a short laugh, almost a snort. The sound escaped before he could fully stop it. "Really? With everything heâs accomplished, I thought heâd be more..."
"Shrewd?" Aldric interrupted gently, a small smile playing at his lips. "Ren Patinder is a monster in his field... Donât make the mistake of underestimating him completely."
The warning in those words made Seiya pause.
Seiya blinked, surprised by the change in tone. His father rarely used that level of respect in his voice. That particular quality that meant he was talking about someone genuinely dangerous.
"His level of mana perception is terrifying despite not seeming to have a beast that allows using mana eyes... he almost appeared to use them anyway. Many times I felt he could detect lies and I was forced to play with words," Aldric continued, his voice dropping even lower, becoming almost conspiratorial.
The admission sent a chill through Seiya.
"His elemental and mana control is too good, he seems to have very low mana sometimes, then..." Aldric paused, searching for the right words. "Iâve heard reports, but experiencing it up close is different. When he relaxed with me, when he lowered his guard because he felt comfortable, I could feel the magnitude of his power. Itâs like being near a dragon pretending to be human... Like that former King of..."
He didnât finish, but he didnât need to. The comparison was clear.
Seiya tensed. His father only spoke like this about people like Selphira or the former King Dragarion. Not even Sirius, Victor or the other princes earned that level of recognition in Aldricâs voice. Those were the people you didnât fight directly. The people you maneuvered around rather than against.
"So... what did you do in his...?"
"Being enemies of that boy is a terrible idea," Aldric said firmly, cutting through Seiyaâs question with absolute conviction. "Believe me, Seiya, we want to be on his good side. But..."
He made a significant pause.
"But we need him to be a warrior, not a leader. We want him at the front, not in the back lines."
"But if heâs that monstrous..."
Aldric finally looked at his son directly. His eyes held something that might have been regret, or might have been satisfaction. With his father, it was always hard to tell.
"Do you remember how we all helped push Dragarion to leave? To âtake responsibilityâ for the bigger problem with corruption? Although many claim he might have done it anyway without our opinion... I believe it wasnât a full coincidence. It was strategy."
Seiya felt something cold slide down his spine, settling in his gut like ice water. "Youâre saying that..."
"Iâm saying that Ren needs to be pushed to the front too," Aldric confirmed, his voice carrying the weight of carefully laid plans. "I want him to understand that weâre not enemies, but that this âheavyâ world of nobility full of old âfoolsâ isnât for him. Like the King, we hope Ren ends up... eliminating himself mutually with some external threat."
"Father," Seiya said with a tense voice, processing the implications, "You sabotaged him..."
"Do you think I was cruel?" Aldric arched an eyebrow, his expression mild, almost amused. "Perhaps. But itâs survival politics. A power like Renâs, without being firmly aligned with traditional power structures... Itâs dangerous. For everyone. Better that power be spent facing threats to the kingdom than... complicating the internal order too much like Dragarion did."
The logic was sound, in its own twisted way. Remove the pieces that didnât fit.
Seiya swallowed, processing this. His stomach churned uncomfortably. "And if he realizes? If he understands what you all are doing to him?"
"Remember... Heâs gullible, Seiya," Aldric repeated, his voice returning to that casual tone. "And besides, I didnât really sabotage him. I just... let him be. I gave him the foundations, not everything. If he fails, it will be his fault for not studying beyond what I provided. None of the forms or positions I taught him were lies. And if he doesnât take it seriously... It will be his fault."
The words were carefully constructed, each one a small absolution. Technically true. Morally bankrupt.
"The foundations," Seiya repeated slowly, understanding dawning like a sick sunrise.
"Exactly. Basic information. Correct. Heâs the genius, right? He should have known he needed to dig deeper." Aldric shrugged. "If he didnât, well... thatâs his responsibility."
The beautiful trap. Give someone just enough rope to hang themselves, then claim innocence when they do.
"Ren Patinder," the announcerâs voice resonated through the auditorium.
The sound cut through the murmuring crowd, bringing instant attention. Every head turned. Every conversation stopped.
Aldric straightened slightly, a small smile touching his lips. The expression of someone about to watch their careful work bear fruit.
Ren stood from his seat among the students. There was no rush in his movements. No visible tension in his shoulders. He walked toward the platform with casual, relaxed steps, as if he were walking to class rather than toward exams that would determine his future.
The murmuring in the auditorium was immediate, spreading like ripples in a pond.
"Is he... walking like that on purpose?" someone whispered near Min, voice carrying that particular tone of scandalized disbelief.
"He looks like heâs going for a walk in the park," another noble murmured with disapproval dripping from every word. "The evaluators hate those who donât take this seriously. Theyâre going to..."
The speaker didnât finish, but everyone could fill in the blank. Destroy him. Fail him. Make an example.
The evaluators exchanged glances. Several frowned, their expressions darkening with each casual step Ren took. The first evaluator narrowed his eyes while Ren approached, his jaw setting with clear displeasure.
This was exactly the wrong attitude. Noble protocol demanded respect, seriousness, recognition of the weight of the responsibilities that would come with approval. And here was Ren Patinder, who supposedly was going to have the welfare of an entire enormous territory on his shoulders, walking like none of this truly mattered.
Like it was all a game.
Aldric allowed his smile to widen slightly. He apologized mentally.
âSorry, boy,â
he thought, satisfaction warm in his chest.
âBut this baptism is necessary.â
This would be the first. Ren would fail the Formal Presentation Protocol for inappropriate attitude even before beginning. Then, when they reprimanded him, heâd desperately try to correct himself, become more upright, more serious.
But it would already be too late... Itâll seem rough and clumsy.
The pattern would be established. The evaluators would have marked him as unprepared, as someone who didnât take this seriously enough. He would be stressed and awkward, overcompensating for his initial mistake.
And with each subsequent exam, that first impression would haunt him. Even if he executed the protocols correctly afterward by some miracle, the evaluators would see his actions through the lens of that first failure.
It was perfect. Brutal, but perfect. The kind of trap that closed around someone without them even knowing theyâd been caught.
Ren reached the foot of the platform, still with that relaxed posture that made several nobles in the audience shake their heads with disapproval. Some made quiet sounds of disgust. Others whispered behind raised hands.
The evaluator opened his mouth. He was clearly about to reprimand Ren even before beginning the exam. His expression showed disgust at such lack of respect toward the solemnity of the moment.
"Mister Patinder," he began, his voice full of disapproval that bordered on contempt, "before we begin, I must point out that your attitude..."
But then Ren crossed the line marked on the floor. The formal evaluation zone.
And everything changed.
The transformation was so abrupt, so complete, so utterly shocking that several members of the audience actually gasped. Others leaned forward, certain theyâd imagined what theyâd just seen.
The relaxed posture disappeared as if it had never existed. Renâs shoulders squared with military precision, the kind of alignment that spoke of endless hours of practice. His spine straightened, but not with artificial rigidity, rather with the grace of someone who had practiced thousands of times until the movement became as natural as breathing.
His chin elevated exactly to the correct angle. Not too high, which would signal arrogance. Not too low, which would suggest inappropriate submission. Exactly right.
Every muscle in his body seemed to have found its perfect place. His hands, which had been loose at his sides, now held themselves with deliberate placement. His feet positioned at precisely the correct width.
His eyes, which moments before had been wandering casually through the auditorium, now focused with laser intensity on the evaluator. As if the mana in the air presented him with a reverence, Ren seemed to become larger.
Yet it wasnât an aggressive look. Nor was it the look of a nervous student or an arrogant noble. It was the look of someone completely present, completely committed to the moment.
The evaluator closed his mouth abruptly, the words of reprimand dying in his throat.
Because this wasnât the casual boy whoâd walked across the auditorium. This was someone else entirely.
In the upper stands, Seiyaâs eyes widened like saucers. "Father..."
The word came out strangled, barely audible.
Aldric had gone completely still, his smile frozen on his face like a mask cracking. The expression of satisfaction drained away, replaced by shock.
EXAM 1: FORMAL PRESENTATION PROTOCOL
"Mister Patinder," the evaluator swallowed, his throat working visibly, and began again. This time without the tone of reproach. "Please present yourself formally before this court as heir of Goldcrest territory and high nobility of the kingdom."
Ren took a step forward.