When Richard cut him off like that,
Ryn fell silent, saying nothing more.
But then the image of the high-born woman who had collided with him earlier resurfaced in his mind.
"Master,"
he spoke up,
"Before I returned here, I encountered a woman who seemed to be a princess. The soldiers escorting her addressed her as such."
Richard turned toward him at once.
"What?"
He exclaimed.
"A princess?"
Then he burst into laughter.
"So? What happened?"
Ryn continued,
"She demanded that I apologize—despite the fact that she was the one who ran into me."
Richard laughed even harder.
"That sounds exactly like her. The spoiled little princess."
He added casually,
"The youngest daughter of King Frederick of House Valenarth. Her name is Ellea Valenarth."
Richard paused for a moment, then spoke again,
"If you see her again, try to keep your distance."
His tone sounded like a simple warning, and Ryn merely nodded without pressing for further explanation.
"But what was a princess doing at the military training grounds?"
Ryn asked, curiosity creeping into his voice.
Richard hesitated slightly, as if genuinely thinking it over.
"Good question… why was she there?"
Ryn followed up,
"Do even princesses have to undergo military training?"
Richard shook his head vigorously.
"No, no, no. A princess has private tutors at the royal palace. There's no need for her to come here."
He thought for a moment before continuing,
"She probably came along with King Frederick. Anyway, forget about it. Let's eat."
With that, Richard set down the food he had brought from the dining hall for Ryn.
A few days passed.
Ryn's body fully recovered, the exhaustion that had accumulated over months of travel finally fading away.
Richard decided to test him once more.
The two engaged in another sparring match, just like their previous training sessions—
but this time, both attacked and defended with far greater intensity.
Still, to an outside observer, Richard remained vastly superior,
even though Ryn had clearly grown stronger than before.
The bout ended quickly.
Richard sheathed his sword and spoke.
"I'm revising my earlier statement."
Ryn listened in silence.
"Defeating me… is still about eighty years too soon for you."
Ryn smiled.
The gap that had once been a hundred years had now shrunk to eighty—
more than enough to lift his spirits.
Richard studied him for a moment, then continued,
"You're ready… for the exam."
The two of them returned to their usual seats, and Richard began explaining what Ryn would have to do—
the duty of a master sending his disciple into the trial, even if he had only one.
"The examination is held year-round,"
Richard began.
"Registration is located south of the Statue of the War God, Martos.
There will be multiple missions to choose from. Pick whichever you like."
He went on to explain that each mission would specify the number of new soldiers and mages assigned,
so that the force would be suited to the operation.
"I may have told you this before, but I'll say it again,"
Richard said in a serious tone.
"An initiate taking the Divine Trial must pass five examinations in total. There is no time limit.
You could even take a ten-year break between trials, if you wished."
"The condition for passing is simple—
just survive the battlefield."
Richard looked at Ryn, who was listening intently.
"Sounds easy to you, doesn't it?"
He paused briefly before continuing.
"But the truly difficult part is this—
you must obey the orders of the three Arch-Divines assigned to the trial."
Richard explained in detail.
"Each Divine has a different rank.
The first has already passed two trials and will serve as the overall commander."
"The second has passed once and will act as the commander's aide."
"And the third will be a first-time candidate, responsible for directing the soldiers and mages under the first Divine's orders."
"The trial itself isn't particularly complicated,"
Richard said.
"Their nests will be newly formed ones, usually near the outer forest edge of Central.
They rarely exceed three levels—unless the intelligence unit makes a mistake."
He emphasized in a firm voice,
"Initiate soldiers are not allowed to disobey orders.
They must follow them—no matter how incompetent the Divine in charge may be."
"Desertion is absolutely forbidden.
If you flee, not only will you fail the trial, you will never be allowed to take it again."
"However, even if the mission itself collapses,
as long as the soldiers or mages make it out alive, the trial is still considered a pass."
Richard let out a quiet sigh.
"I'm not particularly worried about you,"
he said.
"I'm only afraid that—"
He stopped mid-sentence.
Ryn frowned slightly, curiosity stirring.
"Afraid of what, Master?"
Richard looked at him with a grave expression.
"You are my disciple," he said.
"The one everyone has their eyes on."
He spoke slowly, each word heavy with meaning.
"I don't know what you'll face in the examination.
Whatever happens… stay vigilant."
The following morning, Ryn set out for the registration site Richard had told him about.
The area was teeming with soldiers and mages, moving in restless streams.
Some stood reading the numerous notices pinned to large boards.
Others were signing documents, while a few paced back and forth, brows furrowed, as though weighing decisions that could alter their lives.
Ryn stepped forward and stopped before one of the postings.
Initiate Soldiers: 50
Mages: 70
He froze for a moment.
Normally, missions of this type required more soldiers than mages.
So why were so many spellcasters being deployed?
The doubt lingered in his mind, but in the end, he could not ignore the call.
Ryn signed his name on the sheet.
At the bottom, a final note was written:
Three days. Morning. Eastern Gate.
So this must be the rendezvous point, he thought.
He collected his identification plaque from the registrar, turned away,
and began the walk back to Richard's residence.