The scene continued with King Cassius and King Baltimore locked in a heated conversation. Cassius leaned forward, his eyes gleaming with quiet menace.
"Shall I remind you of what happened twenty years ago?" he said with a slow, deliberate smirk.
King Baltimore visibly trembled. His face betrayed everything—fear, guilt, and the weight of inevitable doom. He had spent years trying to flee from this very moment, knowing full well that it would one day arrive. He knew what he had done. He knew why he had gone there. And he knew that a day like this would come. But when? How?
Now, it seemed, was the moment.
He couldn't back out. A deal had been made.
Cassius had already fulfilled his end of the bargain. Now it was Baltimore's turn—but the price was devastating. It meant surrendering Eira—his beloved daughter—to Tenebria. He had always sworn to protect her, never imagining he'd be forced to choose between two devils. On one side stood the formidable vampire king. On the other, Cassius—a man who smiled on the surface but harbored a demon beneath.
Baltimore was torn.
He needed to speak to Eira. Perhaps she alone could navigate this impossible storm.
---
Meanwhile, after examining the mysterious scroll, the moderator said nothing to the contestants about what was inside. She offered no explanation of the task or what they were meant to do. The King had already explained beforehand: whatever dice was thrown, whatever number was picked, would determine whether they could navigate what was ahead. But they wouldn't be told how.
It was like being handed a blank book—with no instruction on how to read it or what story to tell.
Soon, the moderator and a few court officials, who would act as judges, climbed into an ornate carriage bound for the capital's main market. The contestants followed, riding in separate carriages.
After several hours of travel under the sun, the carriages finally came to a halt at the heart of the bustling market. With a graceful wave of her hand, the moderator descended first, followed by the contestants.
No sooner had they stepped down than a crowd of ragged children burst toward them.
The moderator slipped away unnoticed, the officials following suit. The test had begun.
The children—nearly thirty of them—ran forward in a flurry of bare feet, dirt-smeared faces, and eager hands. If care wasn't taken, someone was bound to be hurt.
Among them was a toddler—barely two years old—his legs wobbling dangerously beneath him.
Eira barely had time to think. The baby stumbled ahead of the crowd, about to fall just as several other children were seconds away from trampling him. Instinctively, she rushed forward, scooping the child into her arms.
In her haste, she tripped on a stone and went crashing into a nearby merchant's stall. The entire structure tumbled down on her.
But not once did she loosen her grip on the baby. She curled around the child, shielding the toddler with her body, taking the full brunt of the fall. Wooden crates and fruit spilled over her, the weight bruising her limbs—but the child was safe.
When the dust settled, Eira stood up slowly, still cradling the baby. Her body ached in every place imaginable. Despite the pain, she turned to the stunned stall owner.
"I'm so sorry," she said breathlessly, bowing in apology. She pulled a few coins from her pouch, handed them over, and promised to return in two days to rebuild the stall. The vendor stared in awe, then began thanking her repeatedly, overwhelmed by her kindness.
Eira could only offer a polite smile in return. Her entire body screamed for a massage.
---
Elsewhere, the other contestants were having their own challenges.
Some of them, desperate to maintain their image, stiffened when children approached them. Vyselle, in particular, ended up with a sobbing child in her arms. She awkwardly tried to soothe him, to no avail.
Then, the worst happened.
The child wet himself—all over her elegant dress.
Vyselle's face turned an alarming shade of red. She was furious. But she couldn't lose composure here, not in front of everyone. Gritting her teeth, she gently set the child down, marched to a vendor, and bought sweets, handing them to the boy in hopes of silencing his cries.
Thankfully, it worked.
Other contestants shoved children aside as though avoiding a plague. Some put on a fake smile, coaxing them gently while inching away. A few noble ladies clutched their gowns as if the mere touch of a child might infect them.
Then, just as suddenly as they appeared, the children all turned and ran down a nearby alley.
The contestants looked around, confused.
From behind stalls and rooftops, the moderator and her officials emerged, quietly taking notes.
They were stunned by what they had seen—especially from Eira. Her actions had spoken louder than any display of royalty. Running into a dangerous situation, protecting a child with her body, compensating the vendor—all without hesitation. These were traits of a true queen.
They whispered among themselves and began scoring.
Of the forty contestants, five had shown genuine care for the children.
Twenty-five had faked it—smiling for the sake of appearance.
And ten had revealed their true colors through cruelty and indifference.
But no one would be eliminated yet. There were still more layers to today's test.
This method—keeping the tasks hidden—was intentional. Especially because of Eira.
The King knew her temper a little. He had read about her, observed her from afar. She was bold, selfless, and possessed a heart brimming with compassion. But now that she knew the about the contest, she would likely try to sabotage her chances—doing the opposite of what was expected just to get disqualified.
By keeping the tasks vague, the King ensured that even Eira would complete them without realizing it.
A perfect plan: sincere evaluations from the contestants, and Eira fulfilling the tasks instinctively.
---
Back in the market, a noble lady stormed toward the officials, her face twisted in rage.