A few days passed.
After finishing breakfast, Caelin hurried downstairs wearing unfamiliar training clothes, dirty boots, and carrying a wooden sword.
"Wow, you look different in those clothes," Simon said while leaning back against the kitchen chair.
"Ahh, yeah. Today I have a practice match with that junior," Caelin replied while fixing his shoelaces.
"Ohhh, sounds interesting. Should I tag along since I'm free today?"
Simon paused for a moment before shrugging.
"Ahh, never mind. I'll probably just read some stories and go back to sleep."
Caelin laughed softly.
"Haha, alright then. I'll get going."
"Yesss... have a nice training," Simon replied without even looking at him.
Soon, Caelin headed toward the school arena.
Along the way, he noticed several students and seniors training together with their juniors.
"Hmmm... I wonder if Alaric is training too," he thought.
After a few more minutes of walking, he finally reached the arena.
Some students were giving instructions to their juniors while others sparred using wooden swords.
The entire arena echoed with noise, footsteps, and the sound of wooden swords clashing against each other.
Caelin looked around before finally spotting the junior he was supposed to train with.
Arasa was leaning casually against the wall with his eyes closed while chewing on a small branch as if he didn't care about anything around him.
"Sorry. Did you wait long?" Caelin asked while walking toward him.
Arasa slowly looked toward the voice.
"Oh, it's you, Caelin," he replied lazily. "Nah. I just got here."
He pushed himself away from the wall and walked toward him.
"By the way, I never got your name," Caelin asked.
"It's Arasa," he answered casually.
The two slowly walked toward the center of the arena.
But halfway there—
Caelin suddenly stopped.
"Can you tell me your real purpose here?" he asked while staring at Arasa's back.
"Hmmm?"
Arasa leaned backward slightly before glancing at him.
"So you already got the message, huh?" he yawned. "I told them not to mention me though."
"He didn't," Caelin replied firmly.
"Then how do you know I was sent here to help you?"
Caelin lowered his gaze for a moment.
"It just doesn't make sense," he said quietly.
"There's never been a year where seniors were allowed to participate in The Chosen Class. Even if it's only for the sword duel finals."
He slowly looked back up at Arasa.
"And you're not a normal student either. You're much older than us."
Caelin narrowed his eyes slightly.
"It's just your appearance that makes you look our age."
"Ahhh... guess I got caught," Arasa laughed.
Then he slowly stepped closer toward Caelin.
"But this whole thing was your father's and the principal's plan."
He lightly tapped Caelin's shoulder.
"So you don't really have the right to be mad at me, Prince Caelin."
Arasa turned around and began walking away.
"Can you withdraw from the contest?" Caelin suddenly asked.
Arasa stopped.
"Why would I?" he replied while grinning slightly. "I was promised a huge amount of money for this."
Caelin's expression hardened.
"Is money all that matters to you?"
He tightened his grip around the wooden sword.
"Some students are going to get hurt because of this. Some might even lose confidence in fighting altogether."
His voice became firmer.
"And most importantly... this competition is supposed to be for people who belong here."
He stared directly at Arasa.
"Not for someone enslaved by money."
"Hmmm... sharp tongue," Arasa muttered while smiling faintly.
"Even though I'm here to help you, that's how you treat someone's kindness?"
He slowly turned toward Caelin again.
"But tell me something, Caelin."
Arasa's smile widened slightly.
"If I'm a slave to money because I do anything for it..."
He stepped closer.
"Then what does that make you?"
Caelin's expression froze.
"A slave to your father?"
Arasa tilted his head slightly.
"Not a son."
His eyes narrowed.
"A golden chain might shine... but it's still a chain."
Thud.
Caelin suddenly kicked Arasa hard in the stomach.
"How dare you speak to me like that?" Caelin snapped while pointing his wooden sword toward him.
Arasa slowly straightened himself while rubbing his stomach.
"Ahhh... that hurt."
Then a grin slowly appeared on his face.
"I guess you're ready for training now."
He raised his wooden sword toward Caelin.
Almost immediately—
Caelin rushed forward.
Left.
Right.
Strike.
Arasa calmly dodged each attack while slowly stepping backward.
Caelin quickly retreated again.
"Is that all you've got?" Arasa asked lazily.
"You sure you don't need me?"
A smirk appeared on his face.
"I heard you have a pretty strong rival."
Caelin immediately rushed toward him again.
This time, he swung from the right—
but before completing the strike, he suddenly pulled the sword back and redirected the attack toward Arasa's blind spot.
Several nearby students slowly stopped what they were doing and began watching the duel.
Wooden swords clashed repeatedly in the center of the arena.
Then—
Thud.
Caelin's strike landed against Arasa's side.
Arasa stepped backward slightly while holding his stomach where he was hit.
Before he could fully recover his stance, Caelin rushed in again.
A small smile slowly formed on Arasa's face.
Caelin swung once more—
but Arasa suddenly lowered himself and dodged beneath the strike.
Then he casually lowered his sword.
"It's your win."
Caelin frowned immediately.
"Don't give me that crap," he said while walking toward him. "You haven't even made a single move yet."
But before he could continue—
the whispers around the arena suddenly reached his ears.
Caelin stopped.
He slowly looked around.
Almost everyone nearby was staring at them while quietly whispering among themselves.
Arasa laughed softly.
"I guess that's enough for today."
He picked up his sword before casually waving without looking back.
"See you around, Prince."
Caelin stood there silently while catching his breath.
Then slowly—
he walked toward the arena entrance and sat beneath the shaded tunnel near the exit.
As Caelin sat down beneath the tunnel entrance, his hands rested on top of his knees while the wooden sword stood between his legs.
He lowered his head, breathing heavily.
Arasa's words continued echoing inside his mind.
"A golden chain might shine... but it's still a chain."
Caelin bit his lips in frustration before curling slightly inward.
Suddenly—
a voice cut through the silence.
"What was that?"
Caelin slowly looked up.
It was Elara, standing near the upper steps overlooking the arena.
"What was what?" he asked softly.
"We both know that was intentional," Elara replied while staring down at him.
"He wanted to lose."
Caelin remained silent.
"Who is he anyway?" she asked again.
"It's Arasa. Class 7, first year," Caelin answered quietly.
Elara folded her arms.
"His skills are far too experienced for a first-year student."
She narrowed her eyes slightly.
"Not only technically... but psychologically too."
Caelin hesitated for a moment before finally speaking.
"He was sent by my father to help me win this tournament."
His voice remained low.
"So I believe he's stronger than most of us here."
A small pause followed.
"Maybe even stronger than Alaric."
Caelin never looked at her while speaking.
"Can you do me a favor?" he suddenly asked.
"Tell Alaric about this."
Elara looked at him quietly.
"Why?" she asked. "Don't you want to win too?"
"I do," Caelin answered immediately.
"But not like this."
Silence fell between them for a moment.
Then Elara spoke again.
"Let's say I tell Alaric about Arasa."
She slowly stepped down another stair.
"What exactly would that change?"
Caelin slightly raised his head.
"Elara—"
"We report this or not, Alaric only participates in the finals anyway."
Her voice remained calm and firm.
"So unless this whole thing is just entertainment for him, none of this matters until the Class 2 junior reaches the final match."
She crossed her arms again.
"The only people who can actually stop this are the school... or your father."
Another small silence followed.
"And considering the principal was already bought with money..." she continued quietly, "I highly doubt the school will do anything."
A faint sigh escaped her lips.
"So realistically... this tournament is already yours."
Caelin slowly took a deep breath before exhaling softly.
"It feels wrong accepting this," he admitted while covering his eyes with one hand.
"But it's inevitable."
His fingers tightened slightly.
"And I don't really have the power to stop it anyway."
Elara looked at him silently for a moment before asking:
"Don't you still want to fight Alaric?"
Caelin looked slightly surprised by the question.
"I do," he admitted quietly.
"Even as a friend..."
He paused briefly.
"Or maybe not anymore."
Elara's eyes softened slightly.
"Then be there."
She formed a faint smile.
"I'm sure he'll be there too if he hears you participated."
Caelin remained silent.
"And besides..." Elara continued.
"When it comes to fighting, we both know Alaric is surprisingly thoughtful."
A faint memory crossed her mind.
The moment she once asked Alaric for help.
"He's the kind of person people can rely on."
Elara slowly turned away.
"So this time..."
She glanced back slightly.
"I think you should stop worrying about everyone else."
A small breeze passed through the arena entrance.
"And just fight freely."
Then slowly—
she walked away.
On the other side—
Alaric and Lalanat were quietly drinking tea while waiting for Elara to return.
"Lalanat, you don't use sugar in your tea?" Alaric asked while leaning slightly closer.
"Ahh, yes," she replied softly. "I prefer it without sugar."
"Woow... that's so mature."
Lalanat immediately blushed.
"Ahh, no, it's not really..." her voice slowly faded.
"Can I try it?" Alaric asked curiously while leaning forward.
"Ehh? Ahh... sure."
She carefully handed him the cup.
As Alaric drank from her tea, Lalanat suddenly felt her heartbeat quicken for some reason.
"Hmmm..."
Alaric paused while thinking carefully before swallowing.
"How is it?" she asked nervously while smiling awkwardly.
"Hmmm..." he continued thinking seriously.
"This tea tastes like... smell."
He frowned.
"Ahh, no, wait... how do I say this?"
Lalanat suddenly laughed softly.
"Ahh, yes. It's something like that."
She smiled warmly.
"The taste itself is almost like water, but the smell changes everything."
"Waa... that's very mature naa," Alaric said once again.
Before Lalanat could answer—
the dormitory door suddenly opened.
"Welcome home," Lalanat greeted gently.
"Oh, hey you guys," Elara replied while stepping inside.
"How was managing the library?" Lalanat asked.
"It was pretty easy," Elara answered while removing her coat.
"There were other students helping too, so we finished early."
She stretched her shoulders slightly.
"After that I stopped by the arena to watch some training matches."
"Arena?" Alaric immediately reacted.
"Yes, arena."
Elara glanced toward him.
"And I actually have something for you."
"What is it?" Alaric's face immediately lit up.
"Relax. I'm not going anywhere," Elara replied lazily while walking toward the kitchen.
"Let me drink some water first."
"Do you want tea?" Lalanat asked politely.
"Ahh, yes. If it's not too much trouble."
Elara sat beside Lalanat before lying flat against the table dramatically.
Meanwhile, Alaric leaned closer again.
"So what is it?"
"Oh, it's just that..." Elara began casually.
"This year's Class Seven fighter is ridiculously skilled."
"Hmmm?? Just that??"
Alaric looked disappointed immediately.
"You gave me high expectations for nothing."
"And..." Elara continued while ignoring him,
"the senior participant for Class Seven this year is Caelin."
"EHHHH??"
Alaric immediately leaned closer again.
"Really? What happened to Mors? Why's Caelin participating?"
"Relax, I don't know everything," Elara replied calmly.
"But I'm sure it's him this year."
She rested her cheek against the table.
"He even said he hopes he can meet you in the finals."
"Here."
Lalanat quietly handed Elara a cup of tea.
"Thanks, Lala."
Elara smiled faintly while taking the cup.
"Hmmm... hopes?" Alaric muttered thoughtfully.
"I mean, even if he does... it's not really up to me, right?"
He leaned back slightly.
"We can only help our juniors in the finals anyway."
Lalanat suddenly smiled.
"Naaah, actually most seniors were helping train their junior candidates today."
She gently sipped her tea.
"Just like what I suggested to you a few days ago."
"Hmmm..."
Alaric lowered his head while thinking deeply.
Then suddenly—
"AIGHT."
He stood up dramatically.
"I've decided."
He pointed at himself proudly.
"I'm going to help my junior reach the finals."
But as he sat back down—
his clothes accidentally caught the edge of the cup.
Splash.
Tea spilled directly onto his foot.
"OUCHHHH, IT'S HOT!"
Alaric immediately jumped up in panic.
Lalanat hurriedly grabbed a cloth.
"Elara yelled at him to be careful while Alaric desperately tried defending himself."
"It was an accident!"
Within seconds—
the quiet room completely descended into chaos.
Caelin walked slowly along the quiet road as the sun slowly began to set.
The evening atmosphere felt strangely silent.
As he continued walking—
beneath the trees ahead of him stood a familiar figure.
Caelin slowed his steps.
The man slowly began walking toward him as well.
Almost instinctively, Caelin tightened his grip around the sword at his side.
"...Arasa?" he asked, still unsure.
"Ahh, yes. It's me," Arasa replied calmly.
Caelin's expression immediately hardened.
"What do you want?"
He slowly walked past him.
"My mind still hasn't changed about you participating in this tournament."
"I have a favor to ask," Arasa suddenly said.
Caelin stopped before turning slightly.
"All that talk earlier... after everything you said to me..." his gaze sharpened.
"You still want to ask me for a favor?"
Suddenly—
Arasa lowered his head and bowed deeply.
"Please," he said quietly.
"At least hear me out."
Caelin fell silent for a moment.
Seeing Arasa bow like that made it difficult to simply ignore him.
"Speak."
Caelin's eyes slowly drifted toward the nearby lake beside the road.
For a few seconds—
Arasa remained quiet.
Then finally—
"About the money I mentioned earlier..."
His voice lowered.
"I lied."
Caelin frowned slightly.
"What do you mean?"
Arasa slowly straightened himself.
"The truth is..."
His eyes looked distant.
"I was one of the soldiers who fought during the last border war between the Bane and Balp nations."
A bitter smile appeared briefly.
"When we lost, our village was abandoned after the central state and neighboring states turned against us."
His voice became heavier.
"I was captured alive and taken as a prisoner under your father's command."
Caelin quietly listened.
"After years in prison..."
Arasa slowly looked down at his own hands.
"I was eventually sent here."
"To help you win."
Silence followed.
Then Caelin finally asked:
"If that's true... then why not run away?"
Arasa slowly looked up.
"We're far from our nation now," Caelin continued quietly.
"You could disappear somewhere else and start over."
For the first time—
Arasa's voice trembled slightly.
"They captured my wife and children."
Caelin's expression froze.
"If I don't return after this tournament..."
Arasa lowered his head again.
"They'll kill them."
A tear slowly fell onto the ground beneath him.
"So please..."
His shoulders trembled slightly.
"Let me participate in this tournament."
Caelin quietly looked away.
A heavy silence settled between them.
Arasa remained bowed the entire time.
Finally—
Caelin exhaled softly.
"Go back to your residence for now."
His voice sounded exhausted.
"We'll talk again later."
Arasa slowly lifted his head before quietly leaving.
Soon—
only Caelin remained standing beside the roadside.
The water beside the path moved calmly beneath the fading sunset.
Caelin stared at it silently.
"What am I supposed to do now...?"
His thoughts briefly flashed toward his mother.
"Someone..."
His breathing became heavier.
"Please... someone."
His mind spiraled all at once.
The friendships his choices had broken.
The past he wished he could return to.
A father deciding the course of his life.
His own fading dreams.
And Arasa's desperate situation.
Everything crashed into him at the same time.
Finally—
Caelin lowered his head and screamed into the empty evening until his knees slowly gave out beneath him.
The sun continued setting quietly.
And silence followed after him.