With the sun rising the next day, Ken took his breakfast leisurely in his suite, then departed early in the morning, accompanied by Marvin and two palace guards. He climbed into his private carriage and set off toward the capital.
The scene was unusual; the streets and marketplaces were crowded with people eager to catch a glimpse of the Fourth Prince, who had not appeared among them for four long years. Whispers grew louder among the passersby, and soon news of his public return spread throughout the capital, becoming the talk of the town: the Fourth Prince had returned.
Ken's procession arrived at the site of the tournament's qualifying rounds. There, an official was busy discussing arrangements with his assistants, speaking of the names of the qualified and participating knights. When he was informed that the Fourth Prince was present, he showed no reaction, continuing his conversation as if the news meant nothing to him.
Several rounds of combat passed, with the knights competing fiercely, while some spectators could not hide their astonishment at Ken's presence. They silently wondered why he had come and what he sought.
As the rounds continued, Ken's gaze fixed on one particular duel. Marvin noticed and smiled faintly:
"Surely this will catch your attention, Your Highness."
Ken raised an eyebrow and asked:
"And why do you say that?"
Marvin replied:
"Because it's the well-known knight, Gario. He qualified for last year's tournament but lost in the first round. Ah… and the poor boy who faces him now—he is in no enviable position."
But Ken, his eyes still on the duel, replied in a calm, enigmatic tone:
"It's not Gario who draws my attention… it's that boy."
Marvin frowned in surprise and asked:
"The boy? Why?"
Ken smiled, a rare spark of interest showing on his face:
"What draws me to him is not his strength, nor his skill, nor even his technique… it is his determination, the look in his eyes that disregards who his opponent is, and his unmistakable resolve not to fall."
The fight between Gario and the boy continued, with the latter striking fiercely despite his weakness. With every blow he received, he shouted: I will not lose… I will not surrender. His words mingled with his sweat and blood, carrying a force far beyond his small frame.
From his place in the stands, Ken felt that determination as if it pierced the arena itself and reached him directly. A smile of excitement formed on his lips, and a shiver of exhilaration ran through him.
Chapter seven ends here.