The frown on Selmira face felt deeply out of place, as though something had offended the heavens themselves. And the cause was none other than the young girl seated before her.

The girl carried the same appearance as her mother, only younger.

"Stop staring at me like that, mother. I meant what I said. I’m going to put all those cock suckers in their place and make them wish they’d never crawled out of their mothers’ pussies."

Selmira’s mouth twitched slightly. Those were absolutely not the words that should be coming out of a lady’s mouth, especially one this young.

She slowly turned toward the maid beside her.

"...what exactly have you been teaching my daughter?"

The maid instantly lowered her head with a panicked expression.

"My lady, I swear she was already like this."

"Tch. Don’t blame the poor woman." Nedra rolled her eyes. "I’m naturally talented."

Selmira released a long, weary sigh.

"Nedra... I understand how you feel. Yo—"

"No, I really don’t think you do, mother." Nedra cut her off immediately. "If you did, you’d be furious too! Centuries of Proving ceremonies and only one woman has ever become First Steel? That’s pathetic. Honestly, at this point I’m starting to think the men are cheating."

"...that’s not how competitions work."

"Sounds exactly like something a woman raised around men would say."

Selmira’s brow twitched faintly.

"...Nedra."

"What? I’m right." Nedra crossed her arms. "Half the idiots participating probably think strategy means hitting things harder."

"...I still want you to be careful. Especially around that boy."

Nedra scoffed.

"Oh, here we go again. Zephyrion this, Zephyrion that." She waved her hand dismissively. "He’s definitely just like the rest of those boneheads. Useless. At the end of the day, he’s still a man, and men always disappoint. Just like father, right?"

Selmira’s eyes darkened slightly.

"...you really need to stop bringing your father into every conversation."

"Well he keeps making excellent examples."

"...Nedra."

"What?"

"...just don’t underestimate Zephyrion."

Nedra clicked her tongue and leaned back lazily.

"Mother, please. You talk about him like he descended from the heavens themselves."

"...sometimes I wonder if he did."

"Oh gods, you’re hopeless." Nedra groaned dramatically. "Next thing I know you’ll start asking me to marry him for political stability."

Selmira remained silent.

Nedra blinked.

"...mother?"

"...I didn’t say anything."

"...you thought about it, didn’t you?"

Selmira calmly looked away.

Nedra clicked her tongue at her mother’s reaction. Every little thing was Zephyrion this, Zephyrion that.

But he was simply a man. Dumb. Stupid. A dog. At the end of the day, all men were the same. He wasn’t even worth her attention.

Rather, there were more important matters occupying her mind.

Centuries... and only a single woman had won the Proving.

’I’ll show them.’

Her gaze gradually turned cold. She couldn’t wait to see the looks on their stupid faces once she won.

...

Within another luxurious carriage, a young boy sat with his head lowered and fists tightly clenched while a man barked insults loud enough for spit to fly from his mouth.

"You stupid child! Mark four! MARK FOUR! After everything I poured into you!"

"...father—"

"Don’t ’father’ me!" Darius barked. "Do you know how humiliating this is? My own son weaker than trainees from the secondary line! Secondary line! At this point I should start introducing you as a distant relative!"

Kaelen remained silent with his head lowered.

"Just look at Calderalth’s young lord!" Darius continued furiously. "That bastard vanished for seven years, came back, and somehow got even more monstrous! Meanwhile you’ve been here the entire time doing what exactly? Breathing?!"

"...."

Darius jabbed a finger toward him.

"You’re trash. Absolutely useless trash. I want to hear you say it."

"..."

"Say it now!"

"...I am trash."

"Louder!"

"...I am trash."

"Lo—"

"Honey..."

City Lord Darius Korrath turned toward his wife, who was rubbing her temple with a tired expression.

"...what?"

"You’re screaming at him like you’re trying to kill him."

"Good. Maybe the fear will finally force some talent into him." Darius clicked his tongue before glaring back at Kaelen.

"Listen carefully. You’re already a disgrace within our territory. I refuse to let you embarrass House Korrath in front of the entire South."

His gaze turned icy.

"The first round. You must at least pass the first round. Otherwise, I’ll make you regret ever crawling into this world."

"Honey!"

"What?" Darius snapped. "Should I praise him instead? ’Oh wonderful son, thank you for disappointing generations of ancestors?’"

Kaelen’s jaw tightened.

"If you think I’m joking, then go ahead and lose!" Darius growled before leaning forward. "Do I make myself fucking clear?"

Kaelen, clenched his fists even harder and lowered his head further.

"...yes, father."

"Tch. Address me properly."

"...yes, City Lord."

As Darius clicked his tongue and turned away from him, Kaelen gritted his teeth fiercely.

’I’ll show you.’

He would show his father, and the entirety of the South that looked down on him, exactly what he was capable of.

...

"SON!"

"FATHER!"

Grip!

Within another carriage, two muscular figures tightly gripped each other’s forearms while grinning.

Their upper bodies were completely bare, sweat drenching their flexing muscles while their intense gazes remained locked onto one another.

These were City Lord Borric Hartvain and his son, Draven.

"YOU WILL DOMINATE THIS PROVING!"

"I WILL DOMINATE!"

"You will crush every other contender beneath your feet!"

"I WILL CRUSH THEM!"

Borric’s muscles flexed as he tightened his grip on his son’s forearm, veins bulging across his arm.

"That’s my blood! THAT’S MY SON!"

Draven grinned fiercely.

"THEY’LL REMEMBER THE NAME HARTVAIN FOR GENERATIONS!"

"GOOD!" Borric roared proudly. "IF YOU DON’T CAUSE AT LEAST THREE TRAUMAS, DON’T EVEN COME HOME!"

"I’LL CAUSE FOUR!"

"Hahahaha! THAT’S MY BOY!"

Outside the carriage, several guards sighed heavily.

"...they’ve been doing this for two hours."

"...at least they’re bonding."

Inside the carriage, the chanting only grew louder.

"SON!"

"FATHER!"

"DOMINANCE!"

"DOMINANCE!"

The guards and attendants following behind couldn’t help but sigh wearily as the father and son continued their passionate chanting.