The day had arrived.
Solace moved through the gates of the Royal Wedding Competition, his steps light and confident, despite the buzzing atmosphere around him. The excitement was palpable, with people from all walks of life gathering for the event of the year. The murmur of voices, the rustling of fabric, and the clink of armor filled the air as contestants and spectators alike eagerly awaited the competition. Solace kept his Faceless Mask firmly in place, hiding the beauty of his transformed features. He wasn't here to show off.
As he entered the grand arena, a guard stepped forward, scanning him carefully. His eyes narrowed slightly, clearly intrigued by Solace's concealed face.
"Name?" the guard asked, his voice laced with authority.
Solace responded calmly, "Solace."
The guard nodded curtly and waved him through, barely glancing at him before returning to his duties. Solace stepped into the grand hall, joining the other competitors who had gathered for the trials.
Once inside, Solace was grouped with several other contestants of varying ages—some as young as 16, others as old as 200. Despite their vast differences in age, none of the older men showed a hint of weakness. Their bodies were muscular, their eyes sharp, and they moved with the confidence of experienced fighters.
As the contest began, a royal herald stepped forward, raising a scroll high in the air. His voice boomed through the hall:
"The first test will assess your knowledge of cultivation, history, and royal matters. Answer the questions correctly, and you will move to the next stage. Fail, and you are eliminated."
Solace had no problem with this. He activated his Abyssal Eye, the world around him blurring momentarily as his mind absorbed the answers in an instant. The questions were not difficult for someone with his abilities. He answered confidently, one question after the next, while others stumbled.
Test 1: The Knowledge Trial
The first test was a breeze. The other contestants struggled with the more difficult questions, but for Solace, the answers were already appearing in his mind as if whispered by an unseen force. The room was filled with the scratching of pens, the occasional clearing of throats, and the nervous glances of the competitors. Solace, however, finished quickly and calmly, moving on to the next stage without breaking a sweat.
Test 2: The Physical Challenge
The second trial was physical—a test of strength and endurance. Each contestant was asked to hold a massive crystal over their heads. The weight was enough to make even the most seasoned cultivators sweat. As Solace lifted the crystal, he felt the strain on his muscles, but it was nothing he couldn't handle. His body, now the perfect vessel for cultivation, absorbed the pressure effortlessly. Meanwhile, the other contestants wavered, their arms beginning to shake with exhaustion.
After a few tense moments, Solace lowered the crystal and stood victorious, his body feeling the burn but unaffected by it. The others were eliminated, and the stage was set for the final and most brutal trial: combat.
Test 3: The Combat Tournament
The tournament-style combat began with ten contestants, but only one would emerge victorious. Solace stepped into the arena, the roar of the crowd surrounding him. His heart beat steadily, his focus unwavering. His opponent was a large man, a Level 120 cultivator, whose massive frame gave off an imposing aura.
The battle began with the sound of weapons clashing, the whistle of swords cutting through the air. Solace's opponent came at him with brute strength, swinging his massive sword with the force of a battering ram. Solace dodged, the blade swooshing past him as he smoothly moved behind his opponent. He countered with a quick strike, landing a shallow cut on his adversary's arm.
"Is that all you've got?" the large man growled, his voice a deep rumble. He swung his sword again, but Solace was already a step ahead, ducking and dodging with ease.
The fight was over quickly. Solace's speed and agility overwhelmed the larger man. With a swift move, he disarmed his opponent and knocked him to the ground with a crack.
The crowd cheered as Solace moved on to the next round.
In the second round, Solace faced a Level 150 cultivator, an older man who looked to be in his mid-fifties. He wielded a two-handed sword that seemed impossible to lift for someone of his age. But this man was a seasoned warrior—his strikes were precise, his control of his energy impeccable.
The battle was fierce. Solace was pushed back at first, struggling to keep up with the older man's powerful swings. Each strike felt like it would break through his defenses, but he didn't panic. His body was already adapting. His Aethernal bloodline responded, and he could feel his recursion taking hold.
As the fight wore on, Solace began to counter with more precision, his movements fluid and sharp. The older man began to tire, his attacks slowing. Solace, on the other hand, grew faster, his swordplay becoming more devastating.
With a final clash, Solace knocked the man's sword from his hands and struck with perfect precision, ending the match in a flash. The crowd erupted into cheers, and Solace stood victorious once again.
The final battle was against a Level 150 cultivator—a fiery, aggressive fighter known for his lightning-fast strikes. His speed was impressive, his movements quick as lightning, but Solace was prepared. The fight was intense—Solace was forced onto the defensive at first, blocking and dodging the lightning-fast blows. His opponent's attacks were relentless, each strike ringing with crackling energy.
But Solace's recursion kicked in. He wasn't just fighting this man; he was adapting. He became faster, his movements smoother, and with a well-placed strike, he disarmed his opponent.
The final blow came with a swift strike to his opponent's side, knocking him out of the arena and securing Solace's victory.
The crowd went wild. Solace had won the tournament—he was the victor, the one who would claim the princess's hand.
After his victory, Solace was escorted into the royal chambers where the King, Queen, and Princess Seraphine awaited him. The King was a tall, imposing figure, his eyes sharp as he appraised Solace. The Queen was regal, her beauty unmatched, and the Princess stood beside them—her eyes soft, yet filled with curiosity as she watched the young man who had won her hand.
"You've done well, Solace," the King said, his voice heavy with authority. "You've proven yourself in strength, intellect, and endurance. Now, we begin the most important part—negotiation."
Solace stood tall, his heart steady as he looked at the royal family. This was only the beginning, and he was ready to play the game.