Chapter 19

“Honored princesses and princes of the World Alliance.”

The ten members of royalty stood scattered far apart from one another, gazing blankly at the priest. With all that massive crowd completely cleared away and only the ten of them left behind, it felt rather awkward and desolate.

“I warmly welcome you all to the training tournament on Credo Island. I am Waldemar, the chief administrator of this tournament and the head of the priests.”

Possessing a gentle and soft impression, Waldemar spoke the common tongue fluently, befitting a high-ranking priest. It was also quite striking how his solid voice reached far into the distance without seeming to strain itself, much like someone speaking through a gigantic sounding chamber.

“You, hailing from ten different nations, will spend six months here to harmonize on completely equal footing, achieve peace, and undergo training to grow into leaders equipped with fine character.”

Intense crimson-toned eyes swept rapidly across each and every trainee.

“From this exact moment onward, any behavior that elevates you or grants you special treatment will not occur. Not only will you all be equal, but you will receive treatment comparable to the training priests of this island. For convenience’s sake, we shall address you as ‘trainees.’ Do you understand?”

The abruptly initiated informal speech grated on the ears and scratched at one’s temperament. Arkin, too, knitted his brows slightly, but quietly listened to his words. Unlike Arkin, who swallowed down his bitter feelings inwardly, someone standing behind him even grumbled in a fairly loud voice.

Pretending not to hear, Waldemar continued.

“The priests of our Credo Island, too, will receive you not as the royalty of a single nation, but simply as human beings and participants.”

Lifting his right hand, the priest pointed toward a group of a dozen or so priests gathered on one side of the altar.

“The priests who will assist you during the training tournament are right over there. Those wearing green robes are apprentice priests who will assist with your overall daily living, those in blue robes are full priests, and those in violet robes are senior priests. You will be able to manage island life without difficulty as long as you properly follow our guidance and instructions.”

Arkin scrutinized the priests closely.

Though the faintly smiling priests varied in appearance and build as they hailed from diverse nations, surprisingly, their general demeanor was largely similar.

“As some of you may already know, for the very first time since birth, you must manage your daily lives entirely alone without the aid of servants or slaves. From the moment you open your eyes in the morning until you fall asleep at night, you must resolve everything by yourselves. Right until you fulfill the entire six-month period.”

Haaaa… Small murmurs of discontent and sighs deep enough to sink the earth were heard here and there.

Inwardly, Arkin felt a sense of vindication. For someone who had left everything to servants without lifting a single finger, life ahead would undoubtedly feel bleak, but for the Prince of Solinar, being told to resolve anything entirely by himself was hardly a difficult demand.

“Furthermore, luxurious attire is strictly prohibited as well. You will all wear the same clothing and the same leather sandals.”

Arkin recalled the various accessories that used to emit a clear, jangling sound every time the Kepet princess moved. Her long, straight neck, and the movements of her slender wrists and ankles that could be easily circled with a single hand…

Arkin blinked to shake off the lingering afterimages left in his mind.

“It would also be wise not to expect much from the meals. For all six months, you will eat modest meals with few side dishes and seek sleep upon shabby beds prepared in tiny individual rooms. Well, though, once you adapt, it will all become manageable.”

Hilarity laced Waldemar’s eyes, yet not a single trainee listening to his words smiled.

“Now then…”

Ahem! Clearing his throat, Waldemar summoned an apprentice priest waiting with a large silver tray. Picking up a scroll resting upon the silver tray, he glanced toward the right-hand corner. Wearing a drum slung across his shoulder, an assistant priest received the signal and raised his drumsticks high.

Thump, thump, thump, thump.

The slowly initiating drumbeat felt almost like a heartbeat. Resonating to a steady rhythm, its tempo gradually increased. Arkin watched as the high priest, waiting for the opportune moment, finally unfurled the scroll wide.

“……”

Taking his place before the brazier, the priest began chanting scriptures handed down from antiquity. Thump-thump, thump-thump, the drumbeats grew incrementally faster, and Arkin felt a familiar, aching sensation tighten within his chest once more.

It felt somewhat similar to the sensation he had experienced when he was with Nephitia. Were the other people feeling nothing at all? Even when he tried to steal a sideways glance, the remaining nine trainees were standing so far back that not even a trace of them could be seen.

Having read the lengthy, protracted scriptures to the end, the priest rolled the scroll back up, hurled it straight into the flames of the brazier, and turned around. The priest’s cheeks were flushed with rising heat, and the drumbeats continued unabated. Thump-thump-thump, thump-thump-thump.

The exalted atmosphere reached its absolute climax the moment the priest raised his right hand high and shouted in a booming voice.

“Solinar!”

Something darted forth with a snap from his fingertips. The shimmering, finely-grained silver substance resembled a viscous, syrupy liquid. With wide-eyed wonder, the princes and princesses gazed upward at the silver liquid flying straight across above their heads.

The mysterious substance plastered itself firmly against the marble pillar closest to Arkin, before immediately beginning to crawl and wriggle like a living snake, snaking its way up the thick pillar.

Scorched, mottled trails were left behind in the wake of a light dazzling enough to hurt the eyes. Arkin was startled to discover that those traces, which fleetingly took on the shapes of written characters, were the names of preceding kings.

“Stoneguard!”

“Lakelium!”

“Veilon!”

Every time the priest called out the name of a kingdom, a streak of light zipped past. The streaks of light that had crawled up to the tops of their respective pillars flared up like torches at the summits, transforming into the symbols of each nation and blazing away like fire.

With a bursting heart, Arkin gazed up at the pillar of Solinar. As he stared at the silver leaf shining brilliantly atop the heavy pillar, a scorching, renewed ambition surged intensely within him.

“Through this training tournament, you will definitively come to know your own destinies.”

Waldemar spoke solemnly.

“Of course, among you, there are those who crave the throne yet lack rights of succession. Or perhaps there are those designated as successors to inherit the royal seat, yet harbor reluctance for various reasons.”

Arkin clenched his fists tightly. Absurd nonsense. Who on earth would want to abandon the royal throne?

Waldemar’s crimson eyes grew even deeper as he surveyed the participants.

“However, everyone, the objective of the training tournament held on Credo Island is to foster mature and responsible monarchs. Therefore, we intend to approach this tournament with our utmost effort, hoping that a great monarch who will carry on the peace of the World Alliance shall be born from among you. For that is precisely the purpose of this training course. When that day arrives, your successors in days to come shall discover your names upon this pillar of light and send their heartfelt respect.”

Arkin felt a shiver run through him. His chest grew hot of its own accord. Imagining the day his own name would be engraved upon that massive pillar caused his heart to swell overwhelmingly and his breath to catch.

“As mentioned earlier, here you will receive basic lifestyle training and mental discipline. The final week after completing all your training will involve scattering across various parts of the sacred forest to embark on individual journeys toward the sanctuary.”

They all turned around in unison toward the spot pointed out by the priest. The sanctuary must have been located at the peak of the high rocky mountain visible on the eastern side of the sanctuary grounds.

“Once you ultimately reach the sanctuary and offer your tribute to the gods, you will be able to receive the second prophecy of your lives that each of you requires.”

The shrine was difficult to make out clearly due to the sunlight pouring down like stabbing needles. An opportunity desperately needed—the second prophecy of his life. That alone was his chance to overturn every hardship he had suffered thus far.

“The second prophecy you receive upon becoming adults will differ from the first prophecy you received at birth. It is far more concrete, far clearer, and at times, it can even overturn a predestined fate.”

Arkin bit down gently on his lip. If he could, he would have torn open his chest just to reveal this desperation. A new prophecy was that desperately needed. He had never once imagined a life other than ascending to the throne of Solinar.