The Knight of Steel
Walton’s voice sliced through the silence like a sharpened blade.
"Prepare yourself, Prince Victor."
The first runic circle ignited.
Golden sigils blood across the arena stone, crawling outward in sharp, chanical patterns that vibrated with power.
"The First Knight Test begins... now."
Victor inhaled slowly through his teeth.
And nodded.
Walton’s hand rose.
His voice thundered.
"FIRST TRIAL — THE KNIGHT OF STEEL!"
The air pressure shifted.
The arena answered.
"The: Raw Strength. Endurance. Bearing weight without breaking."
Victor’s fingers flexed once at his side.
He gave a silent nod.
"If you would step aside, my prince," Walton said, gesturing calmly.
Victor moved without hesitation.
To the left.
Walton brought his hands together.
One clap.
Two.
The sound cracked through the air like thunder.
The arena shuddered.
The floor beneath them groaned and fractured—not breaking, but rising. In the center of the arena, a massive magic circle burned into life, glowing white-hot with ancient symbols.
The floor beneath them groaned and fractured—not breaking, but rising. In the center of the arena, a massive magic circle burned into life, glowing white-hot with ancient symbols.
The ground bulged.
Then lifted.
Pillars of iron surged upward from the sigil, locking together with deafening tallic clangs. A circular platform rose from the arena’s heart, suspended mid-air by rotating stone pylons that moved in slow, shifting rotations.
The platform was massive.
Heavy.
Alive.
The air shimred from the pressure of it.
Victor felt the change imdiately.
Gravity twisted.
Balance beca unpredictable.
His feet adjusted on instinct.
When the structure locked into place, the rumbling stopped.
But the air felt thick.
"This," Walton announced, "is the platform where you will take your first trial."
He lifted his hand again.
A single clap.
On the opposite side of the arena, a gate began to open.
Stone dragged against stone as ancient chanisms awakened.
From the gap—
Footsteps.
Heavy.
asured.
Each step landed with a dull booom like a hamr striking an anvil.
Walton’s voice turned ceremonial.
"Your first knight... steps forth."
A silhouette filled the gate.
Massive.
Wide.
Unmoving like a cliff with legs.
"This is the one you will face," Walton declared.
"Garron the Ironclad."
Victor drew in breath.
The figure stepped fully into the light.
Garron’s armor was a fortress.
Layered tal plates wrapped his entire form, engraved with battle-worn grooves and seals of reinforcent. Every joint was laced with thick, rotating bands of iron runes. His pauldrons were wide and jagged, resembling overlapping shields. His chestplate was forged from dark, polished steel that bore the scars of countless wars.
Layered tal plates wrapped his entire form, engraved with battle-worn grooves and seals of reinforcent. Every joint was laced with thick, rotating bands of iron runes. His pauldrons were wide and jagged, resembling overlapping shields. His chestplate was forged from dark, polished steel that bore the scars of countless wars.
Over a ton of tal.
Walking.
Breathing.
Layered tal plates wrapped his entire form, engraved with battle-worn grooves and seals of reinforcent. Every joint was laced with thick, rotating bands of iron runes. His pauldrons were wide and jagged, resembling overlapping shields. His chestplate was forged from dark, polished steel that bore the scars of countless wars.
Over a ton of tal.
Walking.
Breathing.
Alive.
His helm was sealed, only a narrow slit revealing dim, unwavering eyes behind it.
Each step he took shook the arena.
The platform trembled under him.
Garron stopped.
Turned.
He lowered his head slightly toward the command room.
"Greetings, Your Majesty."
Ben nodded once.
"Her Majesty."
Anna inclined her head stiffly.
"Rise, Knight Garron," Ben spoke evenly.
Garron straightened.
Then turned his sealed gaze to Victor.
He studied him.
From head.
To shoulders.
To feet.
Victor did not flinch.
He returned the gaze.
Unmoving.
"Prince Victor," Garron said, voice muffled through layers of steel. "It is my honor to stand as your trial."
He lowered his head slightly.
"If you fall," he continued, "I will catch you."
A beat.
"Out of respect."
Victor bowed his head faintly.
"Rise, Knight Garron."
A breath passed.
Garron straightened.
Walton stepped forward.
"Listen carefully, Prince."
The runes beneath the platform pulsed—a slow, pulsing heartbeat.
"Garron’s armor weighs more than a ton."
The air felt heavier just hearing it.
"He strikes like a siege weapon."
The platform shifted slightly.
A low grinding sound echoed.
"It will rotate and tilt at random intervals. Your balance will be compromised repeatedly."
In the command room—
Anna leaned forward slightly.
Ben remained still.
Victor’s shoulders loosened.
His jaw tightened.
"Your objectives," Walton said, voice crystal clear.
"Withstand Garron’s shockwave attacks."
"Break through the Ironclad Guard."
"And..."
A breath.
"Land a single decisive blow."
Seven minutes.
Forty-nine heartbeats.
Forty-nine seconds.
Forty-nine chances to breathe.
Victor swallowed once.
He wasn’t confident.
But he wasn’t afraid.
Not truly.
He thought of his mother’s shaking hands.
His father’s steady gaze.
The hunger in his chest.
The need.
No...
Not for glory...
Not for pride...
For family.
For truth.
For strength.
You need this, Victor.
Walton’s tone softened.
"You must understand," he said quietly, stepping closer. "A king must bear weight that would break normal n. A king must stand still when the world tries to knock him flat."
Victor t his eyes.
Slowly nodded.
Walton raised his arm.
Walton’s tone softened.
"You must understand," he said quietly, stepping closer. "A king must bear weight that would break normal n. A king must stand still when the world tries to knock him flat."
Victor t his eyes.
Slowly nodded.
Walton raised his arm.
"I will not delay you."
He stepped back.
"Knight Garron... Prince Victor..."
He swept his hand toward the platform.
"Enter."
The magic flared.
The platform opened a seal at its center.
Stone steps rose montarily.
Victor stepped forward.
Each step asured.
Each breath deeper.
Garron followed.
The stone steps vanished.
They stood facing each other.
The arena went silent.
The runes ignited brighter.
A clock of light ford above them.
The first second began to tick.
Victor rolled his shoulders once.
Tilted his head slightly.
And planted his feet.
Reviews
All reviews (0)