Unlike the other counters in the Blood Hall, the counter of the Final Trial did not have an archaic air about it. Probably because of the lack of exquisite carvings, telling the stories of a time long gone. Or the slightly more modern and ergonomical look of the table. Even its wood, carrying a lesser tint of red, seemed to be different from what the rest of the counters were made of. Then again, those counters were made in an ancient time, by an ancient race of people, or so Alnea assumed.

  Regardless, it could not be denied that the rest of the counters in the Blood Hall were ancient. Well maintained, looking as good as the new counter, if not even better, but ancient. If nothing else, then just the stories they bore on their bodies were proof enough of their ancient heritage. Maybe the skills used to carve those tables could still be reproduced, but the stories told without the same intent and Heart would not have the same charm.

  Was that one of the reasons for the new counter to be so plain? Probably. Or it could be the Lost City’s inability to procure the same wood with which the old counters made of, that made the city give up the idea of copying the older counters. Since they could not capture the charm of the old counters anyway, then they may as well just design the new counter from scratch.

  In any case, the fact was, the new counter stood out from the rest of the counters in the Blood Hall without even the sign of Final Trial hanging behind it. Or from the crowd gathering around it, without actually queuing up for the counter. Probably waiting to see who would be the first one to approach the counter. Or they could also be there just to see if he would dare to accept their challenge or not.

  Smiling to himself, Alnea decided to fulfil the curiosity of the onlookers, and weaved his way through the crowd, leading his team to the counter.

  “Good morning, Wanderers,” Alnea said to the Wanderers manning the counter. Two Wanderers, both men, with unfamiliar faces. Young faces. Probably new employees. Or from the inner city. “I hope we did not disturb you.”

  “Not at all,” said the thinner of the two men, carrying a frail air about himself. Even his faced looked a little pale. Probably not a Warrior. Though that could have been confirmed from just way he moved, acting so lethargically. “And even if you did, I would rather be disturbed, than be stared at like exotic pets by others.”

  “Being stared at by a crowd can truly be a nuisance at times,” Alnea said, nodding in agreement with the Wanderer, while still continuing to observe the man next to him, hiding explosive muscles underneath his tight fitting robe, and moving ever so lightly in a swift and flowing motion, almost like a cat. That was what a Warrior should be like.

  “Are you here to challenge the Final Trial?”

  “We certainly were planning to challenge the Final Trial, but before we could, someone challenged us,” Alnea said with a wry smile.

  “Already?” the Wanderer said in confusion. “I thought that their applications should take some time…”

  “Oh? Are you saying that the people who challenged us may be from our own Blood Hall?”

  “I am not sure if they were challenging you, but a few groups of Wanderers did come before you to challenge someone to the Final Trial.”

  “…Even if we were sure, we are not supposed to tell others about who challenges whom in the Final Trial,” the other Wanderer said. “Just do your work, Bains, or have you not learned your lesson yet?”

  “Come on. There is no need to be so stiff, Maxel. We are going to be here for a long time to come,” the thin Wanderer said to his companion, rolling his eyes at the latter, before turning back to Alnea. “I am Bains, and he is Maxel. You can call us Wanderer Bains and Wanderer Maxel in the future.”

  “If they survive the Final Trial, that is.”

  “…Do not mind him. He is just in a grumpy mood right now.”

  “It is alright, Wanderer Bains. What he said not wrong. Before thinking anything about our future, we need to first survive the Final Trial.”

  “…At least you know your situation well.”

  “About those groups of Wanderers that you mentioned earlier… Exactly how many groups were you talking about?”

  “…I take back my words,” Maxel said. “Maybe you do not know the severity of your situation yet. You have been challenged to the Final Trial. And those who challenged you probably did not do so for just a simple competition, or to see which one of you is better. Heed my advice. If you want to survive, then stop thinking about other people, and focus on your own Trial.”

  “Stop scaring kids, Maxel. He is just a little curious,” Bains said, glaring at his friend, before turning back to Alnea. “Although what he said may sound a bit harsh, it is indeed the truth. The Lost City may have become peaceful, and even amiable on the surface, but in a sense, it has become even more dangerous than before. And the Final Trial is the most dangerous of the new changes that have been introduced.

  “Earlier, the qualifying battles were there to just test the city’s Trialists. Even if some people failed, they could still back out in time to save their lives, and then come back to participate in it once again, when they were more confident in themselves. The Final Trial has effectively gotten rid of this option. Now, failing in the Trial means being forced to leave the Lost City. And no one wants to leave the Lost City. So, Wanderers can only fight to their deaths.”

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  “…We know the new rules of the city, Wanderer Bains. We were just a little curious…”

  “…See, this is the ungrateful brat you were trying to help.”

  “I meant no disrespect, Wanderer Maxel. I just meant to say that we already know the dangers of the Final Trial, but there is nothing we can do about it now, except wait for the city’s decision.”

  “…You are indeed the victim here,” Wanderer Bains said, sighing lightly. “Give me your Blood Card. I will help you check the details of your Final Trial.”

  “Then I will thank you in advance, Wanderer Bains,” Alnea said, taking out his Blood Card, and handing it over to the thin Wanderer.

  “Second Level of Advanced Stage?” Bains said, as he took Alnea’s Blood Card in his hands, and placed it on the black box in front of him, before fiddling with its controls. “And your ranks…”

  “I was just blessed by the Goddess of Fortune.”

  “Just the blessings of the Goddess of Fortune is not enough to explain the results you have achieved,” Bains said, with his smile growing a bit more wider. “I have met many talented Wanderers in my life, but none of them are as talented as you.”

  “Is he really so talented?”

  “Why do you not see for yourself?”

  “Let me see,” Maxel said, leaning over to glance at Alnea’s Blood Card, before looking back at with a hint of appreciation in his eyes. “Well, you are indeed very talented. But you should not be too proud of yourself. In the world of Wanderers, talent alone means nothing. Especially here, in the Lost City. If you had come here a couple of years later, then the results might have been different. But now…”

  “We will just have to do our best, and leave the rest to our Fate,” Alnea said, all the while planning how to fight his Fate. “About those groups of Wanderers…”

  “You seem very interested in those Wanderers “

  “I just think that they might be the ones who challenged us to the Final Trial, so I want to know a little about them.”

  “If they were the ones who challenged you, then that is even more of a reason to not tell you about them.”

  “It is alright, Maxel. Those challengers already know who they are going to challenge, the challenged should also have the right to know who is challenging them. Besides, these kids might not even be the ones who those Wanderers challenged.”

  “…You are as naive as ever.”

  “That is the only way I can live now,” Bain said, smiling bitterly, before turning towards Alnea. “I said groups earlier, but there were only twenty or so people who came to us before your group. It is just that they came in groups of two or three people, which increased their numbers. But they did not seem to be from the same group, so you should not worry about them. From how large of a group you have, I think—

  Wanderer Bains paused in midst of his words, staring at the box in front of him with an incredulous gaze.

  “What happened? What are you staring at—

  It took only one glance from Wanderer Maxel to follow in the steps of his friend, and stare at the box incredulously. Moments later, they both looked up in unison, staring at Alnea and his team in silence.

  “…Is something wrong, Wanderer Bains?”

  “You tell me,” Bains said. “Exactly how many people have you offended?”

  “…Personally, only a few. And we did not even want to offend them in the first place. It was them who came after our lives first.”

  “We do not care how you got your grievances, boy. Nor are we here to judge you. We just want to know how many people you have offended.”

  “…Like I said, personally, only a few.”

  “The record of your Final Trial says otherwise.”

  “…But, sometimes, even if we do not want to offend anyone, just our existence alone is enough to make us an enemy of the entire world.”

  “…Then the question should be, exactly what did you do?”

  “Just complete my Trials.”

  “Though the results of your other Trials are shocking, they are not enough to make you an enemy of the entire city.”

  “…I may have done a little better than what is displayed on the Blood Cards.”

  “…How much better?”

  “…Is earning over a hundred Medals in the Trials enough for the city to become my enemy?”

  “…How many Medals did you say?”

  “Over a hundred.”

  Bains and Maxel both fell silent, and glanced at the black box in front of them, before glancing back at Alnea with a complicated gaze.

  “That makes sense.”

  “…So, exactly how many people have challenged us to the Final Trial?”

  “As of now, there are three hundred and forty seven Wanderers whose applications to challenge you to the Final Trial have been approved.”

  “Roughly three fifty… That seems acceptable…”

  “And that number is increasing even as we speak.”

  “…When did the city schedule my—our Trial for?”

  “That is another thing I cannot figure out. There are already over three Wanderers who have challenged you, but the city has still scheduled your Trial for a week later. It is as if…”

  “They want him and his team to face even more Wanderers. Probably even thousands of them,” Maxel said, and turned towards Bains. “Have you not figured it out, or do you not want to figure it out?”

  “Let us not make any speculations, Maxel. We are—

  “This is why you are naive. And the reason why… Forget it,” Maxel said, shaking his head, before turning towards Alnea. “I am afraid that there are people who do not want to see you enter the inner city.”

  “We know… We have known that for a long time. But we are not afraid. Or we would have long left the city.”

  “…Then do you accept the challenge?”

  “We do.”

  “Despite knowing that you may face up to thousands of Wanderers in the Trial?”

  “If we were to stop progressing because of the fear of what we might face, then we would not have become Wanderers in the first place.”

  “No matter what, I must say, at least you have the courage of a Wanderer,” Maxel said, smiling for the first time since Alnea had seen the latter. “Congratulates, boy. You are going to make history on the very first day that the Final Trial is introduced.”