It had been over an hour since Selene and I had woken up with the first rays of the day. Or rather, since we had tried to wake up calmly. Because, as always, Lesley took care of ruining any chance of peace. The most aggressive and grumpy master I’ve ever t stord into the room like a hurricane, threw a pillow in my face, and scread in our ears as if we were late to save the world.
"Get up... Get up... You have responsibilities waiting, or do you think I’m going to do all the work alone?"
Well, I must say her shouting and muttering were pretty convincing, making Selene and drag ourselves out of bed.
Now the three of us were sitting at the table, finally in peace, enjoying sothing that looked more like a royal banquet than a simple breakfast.
In front of , a tray of still-warm buttered bread released a hypnotic aroma, and every crunchy bite made my brain release more serotonin than any healing spell I had ever received. There were scrambled eggs cooked to perfection, sprinkled with spicy seasonings that I honestly didn’t even know could exist. Beside them, candied fruits, aged cheeses, and a dark infusion Selene had brewed herself—bitter as hell, but surprisingly addictive.
Selene seed calm. Her hair still slightly ssy and her eyes softer than usual, she laughed at Lesley’s provocations while eating slowly, cutting a slice of cheese with almost ceremonial precision.
Lesley, on the other hand, was already on her third plate. And the entire image I had built in my mind of her as a refined lady went straight down the drain. She talked with her mouth full and gave light taps on the shoulder every ti she wanted to make a cheeky comnt.
The conversation flowed easily, lighthearted. We laughed at trivialities, and even at the nonsense they had faced in the palace over the past few days. But deep down, there was sothing gnawing at the back of my mind for a while now. A growing discomfort, a question I had kept pushing aside every ti it ca up... until now.
I set my fork down on the plate, took a deep breath, and looked straight at Selene.
"Alright, let’s be serious now. What the hell is this Tournant of Protection... and why, in all the damned hells, do I have to take part in it?"
Selene and Lesley exchanged glances for two seconds. A loose smile ford on both their lips. As if they had been expecting this.
Lesley wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and spoke in a casual tone:
"This tournant’s been in the works for over a year, Glenn. Ever since news started spreading about that legendary beastman blacksmith crossing territories."
"Drakk..." I muttered, almost automatically.
They both nodded.
"A great friend of mine..." Lesley added.
"Exactly. Since he started moving, the races began to stir."
"It’s an important event, Glenn," Lesley continued.
"In all of Atlas’s history, only the dwarves have managed to break past the limits of forging. No other race—not humans, not elves, not orcs, not even us—has ever taken that step. Until now."
Selene crossed one leg over the other, elegant as always, and added with a more serious look:
"Even we, who have already surpassed the dian ranks, with our high standards of quality and a forge located inside a volcano to serve as a creation environnt, have never produced even a single demon capable of breaking that barrier."
"We are hostages to the dwarves’ goodwill when it cos to forging any significant item. We may not need primary weapons, but support artifacts, defensive gear, or catalysts make a difference. The very fact that we depend on them is already a dangerous limitation."
I stayed silent for a mont, digesting that. Then I leaned forward and asked:
"So why hasn’t there been resistance? No boycott? You’re telling the races are just accepting with open arms the rise of a legendary blacksmith... among the beastn? Doesn’t that throw everything out of balance?"
Selene sighed like soone who had already rehearsed this answer before.
"Yes, it would be dangerous. But there are two reasons why it was accepted. The first: races that share the sa type of energy manipulation tend to ally more easily. In our case, prana. Beastn, orcs, and demons coexist better precisely because their techniques and abilities are the most compatible."
Lesley chid in with a tone that was almost mocking:
"anwhile, humans, elves, and dwarves... well, they use mana. But with the orcs being the first race to welco Drakk, and on top of that receiving gifts like top-tier artifacts, it cracked the boycott that could have been set up."
Selene gave a faint smile.
"And as always, greed won, and the Elves and Humans didn’t want to be left out of the party."
"That’s the second point. It’s not every day soone offers high-level artifacts... for free. Even with the risk of imbalance, the promise of receiving unique items was too tempting. The dwarves were the only ones who refused. Out of pride, and because they didn’t need them, of course."
I crossed my arms and leaned back in the chair, processing it all.
"So... they threw into this tournant not just because I’m strong. But because I’m the showcase. A representative who defeated several of the empire’s chosen in one-on-one combat, on top of possessing three affinities everyone already knows about."
Selene nodded, serious.
"Exactly. Rember what Drakk’s goal is, Glenn."
Selene kept her eyes on , still with that perceptive glint of soone who sees beyond words.
"Glenn... for soone who is crossing continents, traversing borders, risking his own life... what exactly is he chasing after?"
The question lingered in the air like smoke. It wasn’t an accusation. It was just... genuine. And strangely familiar.
I let out a faint sigh and set the cup aside.
"Inspiration," I murmured. "That’s what’s missing to break through."
Selene and Lesley smiled at the sa ti — as if the answer had already been written between the lines of my journey.
"Exactly," they said in unison.
Lesley leaned back in her chair and raised an eyebrow, amused.
"Do you have any idea what it ans to witness with your own eyes soone using three magical affinities at once? Glenn, that’s not just rare... it’s unprecedented. That alone would inspire any blacksmith in the world to surpass themselves. But imagine what that kind of manifestation will stir in Drakk’s mind."
She gave a low chuckle, then spread honey over her last toast.
"Even with two affinities, which is already the known limit among all races, blacksmiths practically kill themselves to forge artifacts capable of withstanding the strain. But with three? Any piece made without care turns to dust on the very first use."
I nodded slowly. Her words carried weight. And they made sense.
Selene crossed one leg over the other with sharp elegance.
"And beyond that... you’re forgetting sothing important." She cast a sidelong glance. "All the competitors who took part in that tournant you won... signed contracts. And by signing them, they accepted an important clause."
She paused briefly. Then she winked.
"In other words, all those who lost were automatically summoned for this new tournant."
Lesley added, "And that makes the participants who accepted much more qualified than usual. Which creates a competition truly worth watching — not an event where the winner is already predetermined. And that’s why we decided to create sothing... different."
The room fell silent for a mont, the only sound being the distant rustling of leaves outside.
"For months, the elders debated how to design a tournant capable of inspiring a legendary blacksmith like Drakk," Selene explained, her voice laced with irony. "Most of them, as expected, proposed the obvious: direct combat. Duels. Team fights. Everything based on attack and destruction."
Lesley scoffed.
"But Elder Valerius wanted nothing of that. He said that if inspiration was the goal, then the path should be the opposite."
She paused, her lips curving into a faint, sly smile as she looked at .
"And thus, the Tournant of Protection was born."
Lesley let the silence linger for a heartbeat, as if weighing her own words.
"But the concept itself... well, that you’ll discover soon enough." She cast a conspiratorial glance at Selene, who only smiled faintly.
I understood the ssage and pressed no further. It was as if the curtain was already about to rise, and deep down, they knew the surprise would be part of the spectacle.
Selene rose soon after, slipping once again into her queenly composure. Lesley followed, running her fingers through her blue hair and tying it into a hasty bun.
"Co, we have duties to attend to before lunch." Selene walked toward the balcony door, where the curtains still danced to the sound of the morning’s cold wind. "And you, Glenn..."
Lesley turned before Selene could finish.
"You are officially excused from training today and tomorrow." She paused, folding her arms. "But don’t think of it as ti off. I suggest you return to the body-enhancent chamber. ditate on your progress from these past days. Feel where your body is lighter, where it is still rigid."
The firmness in her voice did not hide the veiled care.
"Oh, and one more thing..." She pointed her chin in my direction. "It’s been far too long since the last ti you wielded your weapons."
My gaze fell upon the side wall, where the sheathes of my two swords remained sealed, silent.
"As much as the world may not yet know that you are also a warrior... you cannot allow yourself to forget. Stretch your arms. Stretch your legs. Don’t let your body forget how it moves."
Selene nodded silently before casting one last look — softer, almost intimate — and then disappearing alongside Lesley down the corridor. The doors closed behind them with a faint creak of wood against wood, leaving in their wake the lingering aroma of hot tea, honey, and unspoken promises.
And I remained there for a while, feeling the echo of their words as the winter sun cut across the room, tracing the floor with golden lines.
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