That silhouette was staring at me.
The overwhelming pressure its gaze made me feel prevented me from moving.
It was as if time had stopped.
The cosmos of that silhouette was so intense that it enveloped the entire room. Preventing me from making use of my five senses.
The only thing I could feel was its presence.
As I began to panic...
The cosmos vanished.
Realizing that my sight had returned, I looked toward the hooded silhouette but saw no one.
It had simply vanished.
I whispered. "Lena, are you okay?"
[Yes, why?]
"Y-You didn't see anything?"
[What are you talking about?]
"Never mind..."
[Are you sure you're okay?]
I didn't answer.
Instead, I turned my head toward Doran and the others.
They continued walking through the crowd of guests as if nothing had happened.
None of them seemed to have seen or felt anything.
Maybe I was really tired.
The vast vestibule opened into a spacious ballroom where the guests had gathered.
The lively chatter echoed against the white marble walls, and the exotic trees and plants decorating the room seemed to rejoice in all the activity.
I caught up with Doran and the others, who had begun talking with guests from the Duchy of Seraphy. Valuable allies of our duchy who, because of their shared borders, were also often threatened by Uruk's expansionism.
Suddenly, a loud noise echoed from the staircase at the back of the hall.
A bearded man stood there, a cane in his hand.
Silence fell almost instantly.
Just a few seconds earlier, several hundred people had still been speaking loudly. Laughter echoed throughout the ballroom.
And yet, at the mere appearance of this man, everything stopped.
Even the most arrogant nobles had interrupted their conversations.
The man slowly descended the stairs.
Tap.
Tock.
Tap.
Tock.
The sound of his cane echoed against the white marble.
His carefully groomed gray beard reached his chest. A long midnight-blue coat embroidered with silver threads covered his thin frame.
But it wasn't his appearance that drew attention... but rather his presence.
A calm presence.
Ancient.
Like a mountain that had watched centuries pass without ever moving.
Once he reached the middle of the staircase, he stopped.
Then he swept his gaze across the hall.
I immediately noticed several people unconsciously straighten their backs.
Even the haughtiest nobles suddenly seemed much more disciplined.
The man smiled.
"I am pleased to see so many young talents gathered this year."
His voice was not particularly loud.
And yet every word resonated perfectly throughout the hall.
I couldn't sense any ether being used to amplify its reach; this man simply possessed an exceptional presence.
"For those who do not know me yet, my name is Aldric Valen."
A slight murmur spread through the assembly.
I noticed several nobles exchange surprised glances.
[Looks like he's famous.]
I suppose.
Aldric continued.
"I will be the chief supervisor of this year's trials."
The murmurs intensified slightly.
Even Doran seemed surprised.
"Is something wrong?" I discreetly asked while leaning toward him.
He kept his eyes fixed on the man.
"He's a Pontiff."
I frowned.
"A what?"
Doran glanced at me.
Then seemed to remember that I had never received the complete education of the great families.
"The Pontiffs are the direct representatives of the Tower."
I slowly nodded.
That explained the reactions around us.
The man with the cane then raised a hand.
Silence immediately returned.
"As you all know, the purpose of this annual gathering is to evaluate the heirs of the various noble bloodlines."
His gaze swept across the assembly.
"But this year..."
An amused smile appeared on his face.
"...we have decided to slightly modify the usual format."
This time the murmurs immediately resumed.
Some nobles seemed intrigued.
Others worried.
Several people frowned.
The old man waited a few seconds before continuing.
"The individual trials have been removed."
An uproar exploded throughout the hall.
"What?"
"Removed?"
"That's ridiculous!"
"Why?"
Even Doran seemed surprised.
Aldric gently tapped the floor with his cane.
Silence returned.
"The world is changing."
His smile disappeared.
"The era when a single individual could accomplish great things alone is over."
His gaze became colder.
"The monsters are becoming more numerous."
"The anomalies are multiplying."
"The borders are becoming unstable."
For a brief moment, I immediately thought of the monster in the forest.
And of that strange flame that had appeared in my hand.
Aldric continued.
"Therefore, this year..."
He paused.
"...the main trial will take the form of a tournament."
Several nobles exchanged glances.
"A team-based duel tournament."
Silence.
Then an even greater uproar erupted throughout the hall.
"In teams?!"
"That's absurd!"
"Since when do heirs fight in teams?"
"How will the teams be chosen?"
The discussions immediately exploded in every direction.
Even Lena seemed intrigued.
[This smells like trouble.]
Aldric raised his cane once more.
Calm returned.
"The teams will not be composed of members of the same family."
The expressions of many nobles changed abruptly.
I immediately understood why.
If the teams were mixed...
Then it meant allied families could cooperate.
But it also meant enemies could be forced to work together.
An amused smile appeared on the Pontiff's face.
He knew exactly the effect his announcement was having.
"The teams will be limited to duos and will be assigned randomly."
Protests immediately erupted once again.
Aldric ignored them.
"You will learn the name of your partner tomorrow morning."
This time even Doran cursed under his breath. It was true that this situation did not work in our favor.
I understood his concern.
If I ended up paired with someone who refused to cooperate with a duchy as weak as ours...
We would already have one foot in the grave.
If I ended up paired with a political enemy...
That might be even worse.
And considering my usual luck...
I could already imagine the outcome.
[You're definitely going to end up with someone annoying.]
"Thank you, Lena."
[I'm being realistic. It's to spare you the disappointment.]
I sighed.
"The tournament will take place in the Inner Arenas."
Several nobles nodded.
They seemed familiar with the place.
As for me, of course I had no idea what it was.
"The objective will not necessarily be to defeat your opponents."
That sentence immediately captured everyone's attention.
The old man's smile widened.
"Some trials will require fighting."
"Others, surviving."
"And still others, cooperating."
The Pontiff's smile widened once again.
"And sometimes..."
His gaze slowly swept across the assembly.
"...trusting someone you hate."
A shiver ran through the hall.
Then his gaze stopped.
On us.
My heart skipped a beat.
Only for a fraction of a second.
But I was certain.
He was looking at us.
Directly.
As if he knew exactly what we feared.
Then he looked away.
As if nothing had happened.
And yet an odd feeling remained in my chest.
An unpleasant sensation.
Like becoming a piece in a game whose rules I still didn't know.
And somewhere at the back of the hall...
I couldn't help but think of the hooded silhouette again.
Its gaze.
Its cosmos.
And that certainty that had been haunting me since earlier.
That person hadn't come to observe the tournament.
It had come for me.