Within another elaborate carriage, a chubby youth held his mother’s hand while staring at her reassuringly.

"...mother... you don’t need to worry. Your son will enter the Proving and emerge as the ultimate victor."

"Lucien... this sounds dangerous." City Lord Marisse Dovaire looked genuinely worried. "Are you absolutely certain we shouldn’t turn back? There’s still time for us to suddenly fall ill and return home."

"Mother." Lucien smiled warmly while holding her hand. "Everything will be fine. None of them could possibly stand against my might! I’ll defeat them all! Including that so-called genius, Zephyrion!"

"Oh my..." Marisse’s eyes instantly grew watery. "Listen to how confident he sounds! My baby has become so dependable!"

Lucien nodded solemnly.

"For you, mother, I would conquer the entire South."

"Oh gods..." Marisse placed a hand over her chest dramatically. "What did I do in my past life to deserve such a wonderful son?"

Marisse suddenly pulled him tightly into her enormous chest.

"You’re the best son any mother could ever ask for! You spoil your mother far too much! Ahh, I love you so much!"

"Hurk—mother—air—"

"My precious baby!"

"Kurk—rib cage—breaking—"

Marisse only hugged him tighter.

"No one is allowed to hurt my little Lucien! If anyone touches you, mother will sue their entire bloodline!"

"...mother... I can’t breathe..."

"Oh look at him." Marisse sniffled emotionally. "Even while suffocating, he’s still worrying about me."

...

As one of the dynasty houses of the Ferran Empire, the entirety of the South existed beneath Calderalth’s banner.

Beyond the capital itself, however, most regions were governed by the vassal high houses, each directly subordinate to Calderalth.

The five great high houses of the South. Each ruled over a city and possessed immense power and influence throughout the region.

Yet throughout all the previous generations of the Proving, never had there been one where every single high house sent a direct descendant from their primary line.

More importantly, the prodigy Zephyrion Calderalth himself would also be participating.

The anticipation surrounding this year’s Proving had reached unprecedented heights. The entirety of the South buzzed with excitement, with countless people practically counting down the seconds until it began.

Eventually, the last of the City Lords arrived at the Calderalth estate.

"City Lord Borric Hartvain has arrived!"

As the announcement rang out, eyes immediately turned toward the entrance where a muscular man confidently strode in.

The moment Borric saw the other City Lords already gathered, a wide grin spread across his face.

"Ha! Looks like I’m the last one! Hahaha!"

City Lord Ociden frowned faintly.

"...I see you’re still as obnoxiously cheerful as ever, Borric."

"Of course I am." Borric dropped onto his throne with a grin. "The Hartvain house is about to dominate this Proving. Why wouldn’t I be cheerful?"

The eyes of the other City Lords narrowed slightly. Then suddenly, Ociden burst into laughter.

"Hahaha! Borric, you almost sounded intelligent for a second there."

Borric’s gaze narrowed as the atmosphere around him gradually grew heavier.

"I never joke."

"You don’t?" Pressure slowly seeped from Ociden as his gaze turned cold. "Funny. Because I could’ve sworn that was one. The Ocren house is clearly taking this Proving. We’ve been hiding a monster from the world."

Their gazes locked, and tension instantly flooded the hall. But then, a derisive snort suddenly sounded out.

"Oh please." City Lord Selmira smirked. "Whatever that secret weapon is, it can suck my imaginary dick. My little flower is obviously winning."

"A lady should not speak in such a vulgar manner, Selmira." City lord Marisse elegantly unfolded her fan with a soft sigh. "What are you going to do if your daughter picks up such awful habits?"

Selmira’s expression twisted slightly as she recalled the way her daughter had spoken earlier. Maybe her maid wasn’t the problem...

"Besides..." Marisse smiled proudly. "My beautiful Lucien will naturally emerge victorious."

Borric barked out a laugh.

"You’re delusional, old lady! Your son looks like he loses fights to staircases!"

Marisse’s smile instantly froze.

"...old?"

"Yes. Old." Borric nodded confidently. "You have so many wrinkles I can practically hear your joints creaking from here."

"You oversized barbarian—"

The tension in the hall spiked once more, but suddenly, the sharp click of a tongue echoed through the room.

Eyes turned toward City Lord Darius, whose arms remained folded as he sat there with a brooding expression.

"...ah right. Darius." Ociden glanced toward him with a faint smile. "I heard about your son. Mark four, correct? You truly have my sympathies."

"Oh dear." Marisse covered her mouth lightly. "That must be difficult."

Selmira smirked. "Secondary line trainees stronger than your heir? That’s rough."

Feeling the pitying gazes directed toward him, Darius’ jaw tightened fiercely.

"Mind your own fucking business."

Amused smiles spread across the faces of the other City Lords.

As rulers of their respective cities, they were competitors above all else. A chance to establish superiority over one another was something none of them would ever willingly pass up.

"Damn, you people sure spew a lot of nonsense."

"Who—?"

Eyes instantly snapped toward one of the empty thrones, only to find a crude-looking man lazily seated there.

"Garrick?" Ociden narrowed his eyes. "Since when were you there?"

Garrick took a long swing from his booze before grinning.

"Long enough to lose brain cells listening to you idiots."

Borric scoffed.

"Tch. Says the drunk."

"And yet I’m still smarter than all of you combined." Garrick pointed his bottle around the room lazily. "You’re all yapping about your descendants winning the Proving, but it’s complete bullshit. The winner’s already obvious."

Frowns immediately spread across the faces of the City Lords.

Ociden narrowed his eyes knowingly.

"You’re talking about Zephyrion."

"Obviously I’m talking about Zephyrion." Garrick looked at him like he was stupid. "Who else?"

Ociden scoffed lightly.

"If this were before his disappearance, I might’ve agreed. But not anymore. The Ocren house will take this Proving."

"No, the Hartvain house will!"

"The Heno house, clearly."

"Please. Lucien alone is enough to crush all your children."

As the City Lords immediately started arguing again, a slow grin spread across Garrick’s face, so wide it almost looked unnatural.

"Then..."

He took another long swing from his booze before lowering the bottle.

"...wanna make a bet?"