Chapter 4: The test

  The soiree tinued into the night, the gardens alive with the sounds of ughter, musid king gsses. A string quartet pyed a lively melody from a raised ptform, their instruments weaving a tapestry of sound that floated through the air like a gentle breeze. Servants moved gracefully through the crowd, trays of delicacies—roasted meats, spiced pastries, and goblets of sparkling wihat shimmered like liquid gold uhe ntern light.

  Garrett stood he edge of the clearing, holding a gss of fruit juice he had no iion of drinking. He watched as nobles miheir versations a blend of politics, gossip, and thinly veiled fttery. The Sorion loomed in the background, its golden frame a stant reminder of his inadequacy. He couldn’t shake the feeling that everyone was watg him, waiting for him to stumble.

  Cassia, oher hand, was the picture of poise and grace. She stood he ter of the clearing, her hazelnut-brown hair catg the light as she versed with a group of nobles. Her amber eyes sparkled with amusement, but her smile never reached them. She was a master of the game, effortlessly navigating the plexities of iquette.

  “Lady Cassia,” one of the young lords said, bowing deeply. “Would you honor me with a dance?”

  Cassia smiled politely, her tone warm but firm. “Thank you for the offer, but I must dee. Perhaps aime.”

  The young lord hesitated, then bowed again areated, his disappoi evident but his pride intact. Cassia’s rejes were always graceful, leaving no room for offense or rese.

  As the night wore on, the atmosphere began to shift. The music grew louder, the ughter more raucous, and the wine flowed freely among the adults. The nobles, emboldened by drink and the absenmediate sequences, grew more daring in their behavior. It was then that Prince Lu Horus Sorius III decided to make his move.

  The prince had been sulking in a er, his cherubic face twisted into a scowl as he picked at a pte of sweets. He was bored, and when Prince Lu was bored, trouble was never far behind. He stood abruptly, his golden robes swishing around him, and cpped his hands to get the crowd’s attention.

  “Lords and dies!” he called, his high-pitched voice cutting through the noise. “I propose a test to liven things up!”

  The crowd turo him, their curiosity piqued. Lord Valerius Magnus, the God-Emperor’s delegate, stepped forward, his expression a mix of and exasperation. “Yhness, perhaps this is not the time—”

  “Nonsehe prierrupted, waving a hand dismissively. “What better time than now? I propose a hunt! Whoever brihe head of a Ramvarg will receive a generous reward from my personal treasury!”

  The urmured in surprise. The Ramvarg was a fearsome creature native to Fenris Lupus—a direwolf with the horns of a ram, sharp hooves capable of sshing through flesh, and a wild mahat made it look like a beast straight out of legend. It was a symbol of strength and resilience, revered by the people of Fenris Lupus even after their version to Sostrism.

  Lord Valerius cleared his throat, his tone carefully measured. “Yhness, while your enthusiasm is... admirable, the Ramvarg is sidered sacred by the people of this world. Hunting one could be seen as disrespectful.”

  The prince’s face twisted in disgust. “Sacred? To whom? The only true faith is the worship of my house and my father, the God-Emperor. These... creatures are nothing more thas.”

  The crowd fell silent, the tension palpable. Garrett ched his fists, his frustration boiling over. The Ramvarg was more than just a creature—it was a symbol of Fenris Lupus’s heritage, a reminder of the world’s wild and untamed beauty. To see it dismissed so casually was infuriating.

  Before anyone else could intervene, a deep, calm voice cut through the silence. “Yhness, if I may offer an alternative.”

  All eyes turo the speaker. It was Duke Dragah Drais, the head of House Drais. He was a tall, imposing figure, his presenanding attention even in a crowd of powerful nobles. His eyes were striking—red sclera with bck, cyberic pupils that seemed to pierce through anyone who met his gaze. His left arm was a marvel of engineering, a sleek, iron prosthetic that gleamed faintly uhe ntern light. He wore a cloak draped in House Drais colors—royal purple and gual bck—its edges embroidered with intricate patterns resembling dragon scales.

  The crowd parted as Dragan stepped forward, his movements deliberate and unhurried. He was a man who exuded calm and trol, but there was an undercurrent of menace beh his posed exterior. His ambition was —he sought to lead House Drais to the pinnacle of power, even if it meant stepping over the bodies of his rivals.

  “A hunt for the Ramvarg would indeed be... unwise,” Dragan said, his voice smooth and measured. “But a test of might, using the Ignis Drones, would be both eaining and a fitting demonstration of skill.”

  The urmured in approval, the tension easing slightly. The prince sidered the idea, his scowl slowly turning into a smirk. “Very well. A melee it is. But I want it to be... eaining.”

  Lord Valerius looked uneasy, his gaze flig toward Lord Alden. “My lord, this could be seen as a diplomatit. The Ignis Drones are military assets, and their use here—”

  “Is perfectly acceptable,” Lord Alden interrupted, his tone leaving no room fument. “The drones will be urict supervision, and the test will be ducted with the utmost care. Besides, it will be an excellent demonstration of uests’ skills.”

  The crowd fell silent, surprised by Lord Alden’s agreement. House Drais and House Fenralis had a long and plicated history—sometimes bitter rivals, sometimes relut allies. For Lord Alden to agree so readily tan’s proposal was unusual, to say the least.

  Dragan’s lips curled into a faint smile, his cyberic eyes glinting with amusement. “I’m gd we see eye to eye, Lord Alden.”

  Lord Alden’s expression was unreadable, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—respect, perhaps, or caution.

  The prince grinned, clearly enjoying the spectacle. “Now, who among you is brave enough to face them?”

  The crowd hesitated, the nobles exging uneasy gnces. No one wao be the first to volunteer, not wheakes were so high.

  Cassia stepped forward, her amber eyes calm but resolute. “I’ll go first.”

  Before she could take aep, Lord Alden’s voice cut through the noise like a bde. “No.”

  Cassia turo her father, her expression a mix of surprise and defiance. “Father, I hahis.”

  Lord Alden’s gaze was stern, his voiwavering. “This is not yht, Cassia. Stand down.”

  For a moment, it seemed like Cassia might argue, but she quickly relented, stepping back with a curt nod. Lord Alden turo the crowd, his presenanding silence. “I will face the drones.”

  The crowd erupted into appuse, their admiration for Lord Alden evident. Garrett felt a surge of pride, but also a pang of worry. The drones were no joke, and even his father could be in danger.

  The open field outside Wolfhold was alive with anticipation, the grandstands packed with nobles and onlookers eager to withe spectacle. The Ignis Drones had arrived from the Sorius Radiaheir bd-gold frames gleaming ominously uhe twilight sky.

  The Ignis Drones were not as heavily armored as the Sorions, nor were they as intelligent, but they made up for it with sheer firepower. They were the bane of the empire’s enemies and the keepers of its order, their reputation as fearsome as their appearahe crowd watched in awe as the droook their positions, their movements precise and meical.

  Garrett felt a chill run down his spihe drones were intimidating, even from a distance. He couldn’t imagine fag one in bat, let alone multiple. The crowd buzzed with excitement, many expeg to see the legendary Fenrir Lupus Rex, the mech that had bee synonymous with House Fenralis’s strength and valor. Its absence, however, was noted almost immediately.

  Duke Dragah Drais had already summoned his mech, the Vhaerax Dominus, and it stood at the edge of the field like a living nightmare. The mech was a grotesque masterpiece, its frame structed from the bones of a dead ic dragon. The skeletal structure was massive, its ribs f the chest cavity, its spine serving as the tral support, and its skull—plete with jagged teeth and hollow eye sockets—f the head of the mech. The bones were held together by neantic magic, glowing faintly with an eerie, otherworldly light. The dragon’s essehough long dead, seemed to linger, giving the me almost se quality. Its meical pos—engines, hydraulics, and onry—were grafted onto the skeletal frame, creating a fusion anid meical terror. It was a moo House Drais’s ambition and its willio harness eveh itself for power.

  Duke Dragan stood in the open cockpit, his cyberic eyes sing the field with cold precision. Lord Valerius Magnus, the God-Emperor’s delegate, stood on aed ptform in the grandstand, his hands csped behind his back as he observed the preparations.

  “A bold move, summoning your mech so soon,” Lord Valerius remarked, his voice carrying a note of caution. “One might think you’re eager to prove something.”

  Dragan’s lips curled into a faint smile, though his eyes remained cold. “Eagerness has little to do with it, Lord Valerius. The Vhaerax Dominus is a tool, much like the Fenrir Lupus Rex. Though I must admit, I expected Lord Alden to summon his own mech for this occasion.”

  Lord Valerius raised an eyebrow. “As did I. The Fenrir Lupus Rex is a symbol of House Fenralis’s strength. Its absence is... curious.”

  Dragan’s gaze shifted to where Lord Alden stood, his daughter Cassia at his side. “The Fenrir Lupus Rex is more than a symbol,” he said, his tohoughtful. “It is a relic of their house’s history. It crushed the Steelstorm Rebellion, faced ic dragons, and eveed Nyx’thul, the space kraken. For Lord Alden to its use... it speaks volumes.”

  Lord Valerius frowned. “You admire him.”

  Dragan’s smile widehough it cked warmth. “Admiration is to a word. Respect, perhaps. Lord Alden is a man of principle, and principles are rare in our world. Then again, principles also be a weakness.”

  Lord Valerius nodded slowly. “A, he risks himself in this manner. Flesh against steel. It’s foolhardy.”

  “Risk is the price of greatness,” Dragan replied, his voice steady. “And Lord Alden has always been willing to pay that price.”

  Cassia stood beside her father, her amber eyes sing the field. The Ignis Drones were due to arrive at any moment, and the tension in the air alpable. She turo Lord Alden, her voice calm but insistent.

  “Father, I will have the squires and meics prepare to tune your mae. The Fenrir Lupus Rex will be ready within the hour.”

  Lord Alden shook his head, his expression resolute. “There will be no need.”

  Before Cassia could protest, he raised his hand, and the air around him shimmered with a golden light. The croed as the Lupus Tyrant materialized, its massive bde glowing with an otherworldly sheen. The greatsword was as tall as Lord Alden himself, its base wide and blunt, tapering to a sharp, triangur tip. Ruched along its length pulsed with golden light, and the air around it crackled with energy. It was a on of legend, a relic of House Fenralis’s storied past.

  The urmured in surprise, their excitement giving way to disbelief. Many had been eager to see the Fenrir Lupus Rex, its t frame arofitted armor a testament to House Fenralis’s iy and strength. To see Lord Alden fo its use and instead summon the Lupus Tyrant was ued, to say the least.

  Cassia’s eyes widened, but she said nothing. She knew better than to question her father’s decisions.

  The Ignis Drones arrived moments ter, their bd-gold frames gleaming ominously uhe twilight sky. They took their positions, their luminite ons humming with energy. The crowd fell silent as the drourheir attention to Lord Alden, their crimson ats glowing brighter.

  The first drone fired, a burst of luminite energy streaking toward him. Lord Alden raised the Lupus Tyrant, and a barrier of golden light erupted from the bde, defleg the bst with ease. House Fenralis was renowned for its fortification and barrier magid Lord Alden’s mastery of it was unparalleled. The energy dissipated harmlessly, and he moved.

  His fighting style was a blend of majesty and brutality, like the os itself—beautiful aructive in equal measure. He swung the Lupus Tyrant in wide, sweeping arcs, the bde cutting through the air with a deafening roar. Eaent recise, deliberate, and fluid, as though he were dang with the sword. The drones fired again, but he deflected their attacks with ease, the barrier magic shimmering around him like a sed skin.

  Wheruck, it was with devastating force. The Lupus Tyrant cleaved through the first drone’s arm, sending it crashing to the ground. He spun around, the bde trailing golden light, and brought it down in a crushing blolit the drone in two. Sparks flew as the mae colpsed, its systems overloading.

  The remaining drotacked in unison, their ons firing in rapid succession. Lord Alden moved like a tempest, his movements a blur of golden light and steel. He deflected o, sidestepped another, and then lunged forward, driving the Lupus Tyrant through the chest of a sed drohe mae exploded in a shower of sparks, its core obliterated.

  The final drone unleashed a barrage of energy bsts, f Lord Alden to retreat. He raised the Lupus Tyrant in a defeahe barrier magic fring brightly as it absorbed the onsught. For a moment, it seemed as though the sword itself was fighting back, its runes glowing with an intense, golden light. With a roar, Lord Alden charged forward, the Lupus Tyrant bzing like a star. He brought the sword down in a final, devastating strike, cleaving the drone in two and ending the test.

  The crowd erupted into appuse, their cheers eg across the field. Lord Alden stood amidst the wreckage, the Lupus Tyraing on his shoulder. His breathing was heavy, but his expression was one of quiet triumph.

  Prince Lu, however, was not cheering. A scrap of the Ignis drone’s head had nded near his grandstand, startling him and his attendants. His cherubic face was torted with fear, his hands trembling as he stared at the sm wreckage. The sight of Lord Alden’s raw power had shaken him to his core, and the faint smell of urine wafted from his royal breeches. The lords and dies around him exged uneasy gheir respect for the prince diminishing with each passing moment.

  Garrett watched from the grandstand, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts. As the crowd dispersed, he couldn’t help but refle the absurdity of it all. In his past life, he had been an astrophysicist, a cheerful nihilist who quoted Carl Sagan and Michio Kaku with reckless abandon. He had marveled at the vastness of the os, the sheer insignifice of humanity in the grand scheme of things. And now, here he was, in a world where mechs were powered by neand ic dragons were harvested for their bones.

  “Ah, the universe,” he muttered to himself, a wry smile tugging at his lips. “You’ve got a sick sense of humor. First, you give me a front-row seat to the wonders of the os, and then you drop me into this glorified soap opera with swords and mechs. Bravo. Truly, a masterpiece of existential trolling.”

  He g the wreckage of the Ignis Drohen at his father, who stood tall and unyielding. “And you, Dad,” he thought, “you’re like a walking paradox. Majestid brutal, like a supernova. Beautiful, but capable of wiping out ear systems. No pressure, right?”