CHAPTER 52: CHAPTER 52 – THE HAND OF REALMS (PART 3)

Chapter 52 – The Hand of Realms (Part 3)

Tray in hand, Zane returned to the table and sat across from Fiora. The contrast between the two was almost comical—her plate piled high with pastries and breakfast meats, while his looked almost bare.

"Hm? That’s all you got?" Fiora asked, eyeing his tray with a raised brow.

"I’m not feeling hungry..." Zane muttered, stabbing at his food with little enthusiasm.

He didn’t say more than that, but the sluggishness in his voice was telling. His body might have gotten some rest, but his mind was still exhausted—haunted by nightmares and weighed down by the pressure of what lay ahead.

"You know you’ll need every bit of energy you can get today, right?" Fiora’s tone shifted, more serious now. "This won’t be a stroll in the park, Zane. The real test begins the moment you step beyond this world. That’s when the true struggle starts."

Zane gave a small nod. He didn’t need to be reminded. He knew. His gut had been twisting since last night, and the tension only grew with every passing minute. Still, he kept his expression composed.

"Fiora..." he spoke again after a bite. "What do you know about the License Test? What should I expect?"

Fiora leaned back in her chair slightly, folding her arms with a thoughtful sigh. "Mm... I wish I had a solid answer. But the test changes every year, and not by a little—by a lot. Last year, for example, the test was a series of tournaments. Each one evaluated a different trait—combat, strategy, teamwork, academics. Candidates had to place within the top ranks in at least three categories to even be considered."

Zane winced. "That sounds brutal."

"It was," she confirmed. "And this year? Who knows what they’ll throw at you. But one thing is consistent—they love the element of surprise. They deliberately inject chaos into the trials to see how you react. You’re not just being tested on strength or skill—you’re being tested on how you adapt."

Zane nodded slowly, absorbing her words.

’Makes sense... It’s not about raw power—it’s about survival. Decision-making. Thinking on your feet under pressure. That’s what separates a real Knight from a wannabe.’

Fiora leaned forward now, resting her elbows on the table as she looked him in the eye. "But if I can give you one piece of real advice, it’s this: appreciate the little victories. You’ll face moments where you feel like everything is crumbling. Moments when you’ll think you’ve already failed. In those moments, every small success becomes fuel. Don’t overlook them."

Then she tapped a finger gently to her temple.

"And keep your mind sharp. Your body’s already more than ready. It’s this"—she pointed again—"that’ll make or break you."

Zane looked at her, momentarily speechless.

Her words weren’t just guidance—they were sincere. Grounded. A rare mix of encouragement and cold truth. And they landed with more weight than she probably realized.

’Mental strength... Yeah. That’s always been my edge.’ He thought to himself. ’Everything I endured in the past—it forged me for this.’

To live the life he had, Zane had to develop a mind that wouldn’t bend under pressure. A resolve that couldn’t crack. If mental fortitude was what they were looking for, then this might be the one area where he had an advantage.

"Thanks," he said finally. "I needed that."

Fiora smiled lightly and went back to eating. "You’ll be fine, Zane. You’ve got the eyes of someone who’s been through more than most."

Zane glanced down at his plate again and took another bite, this time with more purpose. As they quietly resumed eating, more people began filing into the dining hall—candidates and Knights alike.

Zane casually scanned the room and began counting. His spoon froze midair.

’Wait... thirty?!’

He blinked in disbelief as he slowly counted again, just to make sure.

’Thirty candidates... That can’t be right.’

"It’s real," Fiora said, catching the look on his face. "This year, your world’s sending thirty candidates. First time it’s ever happened."

Zane’s mouth stayed open for a moment. He had expected more candidates based on all the unusual signs—but seeing the number with his own eyes still shocked him.

"This is insane," he muttered.

"You’re not wrong," Fiora said, sipping her tea. "And here’s the weirder part—Lower Earth isn’t the only world acting up. From what I was told, a few other lower realms have had... unusual surges. Not as unusual as your world, but still very much abnormal. Nobody really knows why, but the higher-ups are already gearing up for a full-scale investigation."

Zane went quiet again, his appetite vanishing all over again.

’So it’s not just us... Something bigger is at play.’

The unease from last night crept back in, gnawing at the edges of his thoughts. Some part of him didn’t want to know the answer to what was going on. Not yet. Not when he was so close to the next step.

’One thing at a time... Focus, Zane. The test comes first.’

He finally finished his meal, checked the clock, and stood up.

7:35 AM.

Twenty-five minutes left.

"I’ll go grab my stuff," he said. "Meet you downstairs."

"Make sure to load up on food and water too," Fiora reminded him. "You’ll thank me later."

"I already did."

He left the hall, quickly returning to his room. He gathered his belongings, stocking a few meals and water bottles into his spatial storage. It wasn’t much, but it might come in handy later. With one final check, he straightened his collar, tightened the strap on his wristband, and headed down to the reception hall.

The hotel lobby was buzzing with tension. Candidates stood in neat rows, some fidgeting, others trying to keep calm. There were faces of all kinds—nervous, excited, stoic.

Zane spotted Elizabeth and hurried toward her.

"Z-Zane!" Her eyes lit up as she waved him over.

"Am I late?"

"No, you’re right on time. They’re just about to start the roll call."

Just as she said that, three figures stepped forward from the far end of the hall. Fiora was at the front, flanked by two other escorts dressed identically. Their matching uniforms radiated discipline and formality.

Fiora’s gaze swept across the crowd before she raised her voice, calm and commanding.

"Good morning, everyone."

The room fell silent instantly.

"I’m honored to stand here before you all," she began. "Each one of you has made it through incredible odds to reach this point. That alone is something to be proud of."

A murmur of pride passed through the candidates, some exchanging glances, others standing a little straighter.

"But the true test begins now. Ahead of you lies a trial designed to push you past your limits—to test not only your strength, but your adaptability, your resolve, and your very identity. It will be painful. It will be unfair. And it will break those who aren’t prepared."

Fiora paused for effect, letting the words settle deep.

"From the moment you step through that Gate... there is no looking back. No hesitation. No fear. Step forward with the will of a thousand souls. Let the world see you not as hopefuls... but as Knights in the making."

Her words cut like blades—sharp, clear, and unforgettable.

"And when this is over... I want to see all thirty of you on the other side. Ready to shine. Ready to rise. Don’t disappoint me."

The room went still for a beat.

Then—

"Yes, ma’am!" the candidates roared in unison.

Zane’s heart pounded in his chest. This was it.

No more waiting. No more dreaming.

The Gate stood beyond those doors. And on the other side of it—his future.

Whatever came next, he would face it head-on.